I am witness to a wonderful miracle and it would not have happened had we not made the journey to Bethlehem to seek a star.
We were on a mission to follow the great star!
One of my favorite Christmas ornaments was lost misplaced. A small, sparkly, white Moravian Star ornament. Oona gave it to me when she was a freshman in high school. Her German class took a field trip to the Christmas markets in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.
A big part of hanging ornaments on the tree is the memories that each one brings. Every year when I hang the star that Oona gave me, I not only think of her, but I think of the great memories of the days when my children were in school and back at home. It’s nice.
When our current Christmas tree was decorated and as I admired our ever-crooked leaning Christmas Tree of Pisa, it occurred to me that the little Moravian star was not hanging from this oversized embellished bush.
The crooked tree was missing my Moravian Star. Hmmmm. Maybe the tree is crooked because it is sad!
I went downstairs and checked the large plastic bin that houses our ornaments. It wasn’t in there. I checked bags and drawers and under furniture. Nothing. It was upsetting to me because I know that it was not thrown in the trash. I also realize that I could have placed it in a random spot anywhere in the house and could possibly find it months from now. This has happened in the past with well-hidden Christmas gifts. Whatever the case, it upset me to no end.
I explained my harrowing and dramatic issue to Bonaparte. We had to make the trip to Bethlehem to find a replacement for my Moravian Star.
And that’s what we did on Saturday. With my Google Maps GPS on the iPhone, Chippy in the back seat, and Neil Diamond’s Christmas CD playing the best assortment of seasonal songs that only a nice Jewish boy from Brooklyn can do, we drove on our way to Bethlehem. Pennsylvania.
Only a nice Jewish boy from Brooklyn could get it right! One of the greatest Christmas CD’s of all time!
Bonaparte, Chippy and I were a modern-day trio of the Kings of the Magi—a modern day version of the wise men! Although I don’t know if I qualify as wise.
I had better get my lip and chin waxed soon or I WILL pass for one of the three kings!
We traveled far and wide to get to Bethlehem.
We traveled on the harrowing Schuylkill Parkway in Philadelphia. We trekked onto the toll road of 476 until it narrowed down to an annoying two-lane highway. We left suburban land for the terrain of the rural. We passed cows and horses. And farms.
And when we arrived within the limits of Bethlehem, there stood a building in the background. It looked like a bunch of organ pipes leading up to the heavens. Bonaparte explained to me that it was the old and abandoned Bethlehem Steel Mill.
It’s actually sad that the steel mill is abandoned. Sometimes progress isn’t good to the people who help it….
This little town of Bethlehem was once a thriving city of steel mills and working people. What was left was largely a city that, in spots, was left to decay and depression. Oh—and a downtown area that prided itself as being deemed “Christmas City”!
At least the city can cash in on the name of Bethlehem!
We needed to find the area of Bethlehem that would lead me to my star.
We took a few turns and lo and behold. Before us was a street of many shops. People adorned in brightly colored sweaters and unusual headgear crowded the streets.
Yes. People were dressed in sweaters like this…
..and headgear like this. I felt so out of place dressed in J. Crew from head to toe!
Like Mary and Joseph looking for a place to rest for the evening, Bonaparte and I searched for a parking spot to none avail.
Then I spotted it. The sign hanging from a shop. “The Moravian Bookstore”. Surely, this be the place of the missing star!
Books are just a tiny part of what this store sells. It’s pretty darn amazing!
Whilst Bonaparte and Chippy circled the streets to park our donkey car, I entered into this fascinating building of all things Moravian. Some Moravian History
Ornaments and Mornaments galore.
A bit too cutesy for my taste, but these were selling like condoms before a frat party!
Ceramics.
..just in case you didn’t know where you were…
Moravian Cookie Tins.
Believe me, I was tempted–but not at the price point!
The Bethlehem Star beckoned from above with other Moravian stars suspended in an animated but breathtaking sight. I did not see my Moravian star ornament.
Stars along the ceiling—but where was MY star?
I searched in vain for one who might have been able to lead me to the star that I seeked. I found her in the Teas and Coffee department. I approached and asked if any small Moravian Star ornaments could be found.
Like the stern shop keepers who turned Mary and Joseph away, she looked at me as though I was a special kind of stupid. She grunted and nodded in the direction of the wall to the east. “Over there”.
I was elated and ran to the wall. Alas, the wall did not have a twin of the ornament that my loving daughter gifted me with. Among the mass-produced decorations, I did find two ornaments that could suffice. Actually, they really needed to suffice because Bonaparte would not be too happy if our journey had been for naught.
With ornaments in hand, I paid the proprietor of the shop and went in search for Bonaparte and Chippy. My two kings awaited me around the corner. Off we went on our return journey to Chateau Bonaparte!
That night, I hung the two ornaments on the branches of our crooked tree.
This white sparkly star was pretty but could not replace the one Oona got me…
….nor could this!
I heard a voice from the heavens. It was the angel who rested atop our crooked tree (with an excellent sense of balance, I must say).
Ok. I’ll admit, I DID hear her speak to me after I sampled the base for the Martha Stewart Eggnog!
She look-ed down at me and said:
“You must go back to the bin that stores the ornaments. You must look hard and dig through all the mess that you haven’t cleaned up”.
I walked down to the closet, opened it and searched the bin.
Well, I guess the bin IS somewhat askew. I suppose it can be organized. One day!
There, under layers of tissue paper that I should have trashed and was too lazy to do so, I found it. The Moravian Star that Oona gave me years ago.
My star was damaged, one of the points had fallen off. Perhaps my ornament was hiding on me because she realized she was no longer perfect. I took her in my hand and whispered.
Oops! One of the points was gone. My star is damaged!
“Hey. Don’t worry about your missing point. We have a Great Cornholio ornament that’s missing hands and feet!”. “Imperfections just add character”. “Come with me my little star; and shine and make my tree more beautiful and spectacular than ever!!!!”
He went to war with one of our dogs. I guess he lost!
My little Moravian Star’s story now has another chapter. And the other Moravian stars that hang on our tree have a new chapter to tell.
In her imperfection, she is even more beautiful. I’m so happy I found her!
And this is my Christmas miracle!
Have a Mayer-Y Christmas!
I’m sure I’ll be posting before Santa visits, but so close to that special day and I have tons to do–so I’m wishing you well today–just in case I forget to do so later! XOXOXO
Seriously—what other Christmas carol could I give to you today? “Oh Little Town of Bethlehem”..as only Neil Diamond can sing it!
Happy Sunday everyone. With all the baking and running around and wrapping gifts and everything else that goes on as the clock to Christmas tick tocks away, I was notified of a repost of a little article I wrote for “FrenchEntree” last year at this time.
Quite honestly, I forgot about it—and when I reread it this morning, I was moved because it brought back memories…and so many beautiful ones. Here’s a copy of the link from Twitter. FrenchEntree’s site because I was unable to insert from Twitter!
Enjoy the read—it was like a little regifting from French Entrée! XOXOXO!!!
I’m in Paris. It’s evening and the snow is falling. I’m standing before the huge open window in the parlour of the apartment on the Rue des Grands Augustins. I’m gazing at the white lights twinkling on the Eiffel Tower in the distance and it’s a lovely picture. This picture is a memory of my last winter in France. In reality, the Christmas season has started and I’m sitting at home gazing out of my window at the twinkling lights on my lawn. It is the first snowfall of the season and I’m waxing nostalgic about my visits to France.
I miss my French morning routine of coffee, brioche or croissants with Vincent and Daniele to discuss daily plans. I miss the mundane: scurrying down Rue Dauphine in the early evening to grab fresh, crusty baguettes for dinner, only to immediately finish half of one because the scent and feel was too tempting to bear; mulling over which cheese to choose and having the fromagier let me sample enough for a meal. I even miss struggling in my extremely poor French to get my point across on any given topic, while earning the approval of my French neighbours because I simply tried. I miss sitting on my favourite bench in Place Dauphine, people watching for hours and scripting their life stories in my mind. I miss the spontaneous drives through Paris late at night, when traffic dies down and we have the streets to ourselves cruising aimlessly through the various arrondissements. I own that City of Lights and I miss doing everything and nothing!
In the south, I miss the cicadas, their chants and rhythmic cadence. And in the evening when that sound is blended with the deep baritone of frogs and toads, I miss the symphonic summer melody that lulls me into a deep slumber. I miss exploring the unknown little beaches scattered around the other side of Cannes and Antibes – our little secret places. I miss the boat ride from Sainte-Maxime to Saint-Tropez – the spray of salty water pinching my cheeks while the dock of St. Tropez becomes more visible and that feeling of excitement flows through me. The dry heat of the Côte d’Azur is always missed because it ensures me a great hair day! I miss the long, relaxed summer dinners on the terrace that Vincent and I treat as though each were our last, truly enjoying each other’s company.
Some may make a list for Santa or Father Christmas or Papa Noël of the gifts they wish for. I make a mental list of thanks for my memories in France, with hopes that there will continue to be more.
For most of us, the time leading up to Christmas is spent trying to deal with the crowds and mayhem at the mall. Long lines at the cashier. Pushing and shoving. Cursing the driver that snuck into the parking space that was custom made for you. Having to deal with the scent of those damned pinecones.
Those horrific scented pinecones. I just cannot escape them!
For others it’s cyber-shopping and waiting until the Target or Macy’s site that crashed is back up and running.
I’ll tell you. I was at the mall the other day to pick up stocking stuffers. It was also a great time for me to get my lazy ass into exercise mode by conducting my personal “mall speed walk”. While on this walk I stopped into Ann Taylor Loft. I was drawn by the sign that read “50% off All Sweaters”. I couldn’t resist. I spotted an adorable sweater. It was white with black snowflakes knitted into the cable knit design. Half price off $69.50 came to $34.75. I could spend money that I didn’t have Bonaparte’s well-earned money then lie about spending. It looked adorable and would be the perfect match for my black J. Crew Front Zip Pixie Pants. A nice look for Christmas Eve.
I’m still annoyed about the false advertising for this sweater. Maybe it’ll be half-off this weekend!
When I got to the register to pay, it rang up full price. I explained to the sales assistant that it was half price—just as the sign said. She looked at me as though I was a special kind of dumb and said the sign only referred to SOLID sweaters. I failed to read the small print.
And this is what bothers me about Christmas/Hanukah/Kwanza/Allotherholidaysincluded shopping. Retailers take advantage is such a sneaky way. I think the train of thought is that the consumer will be so embarrassed and intimidated by the fact they read the sign wrong that they do end up paying the full purchase price out of humiliation.
Not me!!! I just politely smile, wink my eye and nod my head with an “I’ll be back when this item goes on sale!”
I’m glad that my Christmas shopping is finished. Other than wrap more gifts, which I will proceed to do delightfully, my only concern is the Christmas baking.
Bonaparte will be dismayed to see yet, another mess that I’ve made. The wrapping mess will continue next week!
I really get all serious and intense about baking for the Christmas holidays. The Buche de Noel has become a tradition for Christmas dessert. I’m already planning a new look for this year’s Buche.
Last year’s Buche de Noel. I made marzipan mushrooms and filled the cake with home-made chestnut cream–and that’s only because I refused to pay $15.00 for the canned stuff. I did a better job making it myself!
The cookie requests have come in. Naturally, the Momofuku Milk Bar Cookies will be a staple. As will the Cranberry and Pistachio Biscotti. The internet gifted me with a great sugar cookie recipe some years ago—the dough is already in the freezer.
Cranberry and pistachio biscotti will be made again this year…..
The corn cookie dough is in the freezer just waiting to be baked!
Freshly baked Brioche and a nice Boule will be accompanying our Christmas meals.
Thank god for my Pullman loaf pan. It’s the only pan I use to make my Brioche!
But there is always the request to bake something I’ve never attempted.
Bonaparte hinted around that he loved and missed the Pain aux Raisins that he used to enjoy as a boy when growing up in Paris. He waxed sentimental about the taste and how delicious they were and if he could only have them once again.Epicurious Pain aux Raisins Recipe.
Ok buddy—I got the hint and made them on Tuesday. In my research, I found out there are two kinds. One made with croissant dough and one made with brioche dough. Since I’ve mastered the brioche—that’s what I used for the pain aux raisins.
The Pain aux Raisins is dressed with a vanilla pastry creme.
Then the dough is topped with the pastry creme and raisins.
They turned out pretty darn good if I may say so myself. In fact, Bonaparte has eaten six of them already! I’ve wrapped the remainder and froze them for future consumption.
Next time I’ll cut the dough a bit thinner–Bonaparte told me to! *eyeroll*. I also want to make them with cherries and pistachios!
Actually, I was pretty much confident to make this treat because I’ve mastered brioche.
Requests have been coming in from Bonaparte and Miss Oona for croissant. Oona has also requested Pain au Chocolat.
Out of curiosity, being nosy, wanting to see if I could do this, pure love for my family, I decided to have a go at making croissant and pain au chocolat.
There was a time when I had a “yeast infliction”. I was afraid to bake anything that called for yeast. However, living with a Frenchman and his constant badgering for home baked bread, I had no choice. It was either “merde” or get off the pot. I went with merde!
With lots of determination and practice, I finally understood the personality of yeast. I proofed my love many times in the form of rising dough!
Off I went. I didn’t climb mountains, but I climbed the stairs to our office and started researching croissant recipes on the net. I “YouTubed” techniques. Most of the recipes were daunting and the videos really weren’t that much of a help. I settled on a recipe for croissant dough and croissant from the Epicurious site. Epicurious croissant recipe
For the pain au chocolat, I improvised by using a combination of the same dough from Epicurious and the filling and instructions from Food Network Canada Foodnetwork Canada: Pain au chocolat.
Let me tell you something. This whole process “proofed” to be tedious. Folding, rolling, and chilling the dough four times. Leaving the dough in the fridge overnight then taking it out and rolling it again. The more I rolled, the more flour I needed to add to the surface and it was making me nervous.
Rolling…
Folding and chilling.
Let’s not even broach the subject of the mess I made. Listen—my kitchen is pretty big, but the actual work surface isn’t. It was almost impossible for me to roll out the dough to 44 inches lengthwise.
Still Life With Mess. A study in kitchen by me.
Bonaparte happened to be home in the late afternoon and decided to do laundry. That meant whatever “dirty” clothing I had needed to be washed. THAT meant Bonaparte hovering over me and my mess and mumbling about how my shirt was a filthy and disgusting because it had gotten full of flour and I hadn’t wiped it off and Chippy decided to lick it off. And my shirt was filled with a pasty glue-like substance of flour and dog saliva.
I later found Chippy under the tree he looked sick after licking all the flour off of my shirt. Hey, I would have let him clean the shirt. Bonaparte was not happy!
Bonaparte in front of me with the laundry basket and pointing to my shirt, I stood in the middle of the kitchen, took the shirt off, and continued rolling the dough. Dough you get the visual? Thank god the blinds were drawn!
All I’ll say is that I could have had my version of “The Topless Martha Stewart Special 2015”
The best part of the recipe was pounding the butter together to make a square!
Read below–then you will know why THIS was my favorite part of the recipe!
I have to tell you; last week I had two of the worst job interviews of my life—OK? The first was a great opportunity. Large and stable company with lots of growth. They recently moved into a building not too far from where I live. I went into that interview itching to be the best “me” that I could. I researched the company, knew everything about the entire leadership team and the goals of upper management.
The interview lasted less than 20 minutes. The woman gave a brief description of the position and every time I spoke, she ignored me and looked at her computer screen. No kidding! I never even got the chance to tell all I knew about the company. I’ve never felt so much like a non-person in my entire life. Rude is rude—and respect is respect and I only hope that it wasn’t my age that made that woman ignore me and gape at her computer. It. Was. Awful.
The next interview started out well. Then it unraveled into a disaster. I was given a skills test. And that’s fine. My skills are excellent. However, THIS Company didn’t have an IT department and everything was done on the “Cloud” system (???). They also had a brand-spanking new Word and Excel program.
I had no issue at all with the Excel portion but the Word portion was awful. Too many bells and whistles had been changed and the toolbar was nothing like I was used to. Although I managed to do what was needed, it took “too long”. Another disaster.
I cried the entire way home. I cried at home. I cried myself to sleep. Then I became full of anger……
..and the anger really helped with the pounding of the butter!All my frustrations from those horrific interviews had been beaten away with the rolling pin slammed down on those three sticks of butter! I had a beautiful square of pale yellow that would eventually be placed in the middle of my croissant dough.
To make a long story somewhat shorter, I was not entirely successful in my croissant and pain au chocolat endeavor.
I screwed up. The pastries never rose during the proofing.
To make matters worse, I rolled the pain au chocolat and should have folded them over. Arrrgh!!
All the measuring with a ruler and precise cutting just could not help my attempt! A real “pain au the ass”
The pastries never rose properly during the last proof. They did not turn out flaky. Buttery, absolutely. Tasty—actually the pain au chocolate tasted pretty darn good, but didn’t look pretty.
The croissant dough just doesn’t look right for this pain au chocolat–but the inside was actually decent. I dunno. Maybe I can use the leftover dough for pigs-in-a-blanket!
The croissants ended up to be a fail for me. Too heavy. The look atrocious. All that work and I had to throw half of them in the trash. Seriously. The oven temperature was too high as well.
The croissants were too dense and just were “meh”. I may need a lighter touch in rolling out the dough. I honestly just don’t know. Perhaps I need to enroll in a class. I do know that next time I’m using Francois Payard’s recipe. I wish I had seen this recipe first!
In the meantime, back to the drawing board for both these recipes. Oh. I will master this. I will not give up. If I have to get into my car, drive to Manhattan and stalk beg Francois Payard for his secrets I will. I may get arrested for being a stalker but it’ll be worth the prison time.
Monsieur Payard looks like a nice person (actually he and my brother Pete could pass as twins), maybe he WOULD help me!
Why? Because I love my family and I love to bake. It’s my therapy. I “dough” sincerely mean that—and baking is a way to “proof” my love for my family and friends!
Ever the optomist, I may suck at trying to become re-employed again, but I KNOW I will figure the croissant/pain au chocolat recipes out and I’ll keep trying and trying!
Successes and fails—Gerry Rafferty’s song comes to mind” Get It Right the Next Time! I will! XOXOXOX!
Shit. Yes. On Friday I stepped into shit. Dog shit. The dog shit wasn’t Chippy’s. It belonged to another neighborhood canine. Here’s what happened.
I took Chippy the Wonderdog out for a little “bathroom break” before he and I were to get into the car to run our errands. After I bent over and scooped up his solid waste, I placed it into a bag and took it over to the trash can. My little rascal wasn’t ready for the car yet so I took him he took me for a little walk.
Back in the car, I noticed a very particular and disagreeable odor while driving to Home Goods. It couldn’t possibly have been coming from Chippy—but yet, I kept smelling this shitty odor. I had an epiphany. If it wasn’t Chippy; it had to be me! Oh God—as soon as I got to the parking lot, I looked down at my little cordovan and tassled Bass Weejun. The side and the bottom of my shoe was covered in dog doo-doo!
Yes. I realize this is a disgusting image–but this is what happens when doggie parents do not pick up after their little angels. THANK GOD IT WAS NOT SUMMERTIME–I would have been barefoot…
I shan’t (um..I’m on a Dickens roll from the movie marathon the other day) tell you what words came spewing out of my mouth when I saw just how covered my shoe was. I will give you a hint though. One word was “mother”. The other word started with the letter “f” and ended with the letter “r”. I also ranted on a variation of the word that starts with the letter “f” and ends with the letter “k”.
I’m a rather classy broad when it comes to getting my best gutter mouth on—especially when I have a great excuse. Not to be off topic, but isn’t it ironic that so many people who demand the right to bear arms, which leads to violence, will love any violent act, but show them a tit or curse in front of their monstrous offspring and they will be “offended”. I’m trying to process that.
Luckily, I carry empty plastic bags in the car. For Chippy. Just in case. I wiped the shit off my shoe and proceeded into Home Goods. My mission was to find a skirt for our Crooked Christmas Tree. Every evening after dinner, Bonaparte summons me over to the tree where I hold it still whilst (Dickens!) Bonaparte fiddles around trying to straighten said tree. Almost a week later, the tree still remains crooked.
A week later and the tree is still crooked–but I have the skirt!
Anyway, keeping with my rustic theme, I found a burlapish skirt with red snowflakes. It does the job. It was the right price too–$19.99.
Here’s a better pic. Isn’t it cute? It matches my rustic theme too–I’m so happy!
I figured I could also wear it as a cape if need be. What if I go out Christmas Caroling? I can throw the tree skirt over my shoulders and have a very festive but chic look!
….I could also stand in as “OLD” Mrs. Claus! Look at my roots–they look like…..shit! Wow–this weekend IS starting off pretty shitty!
I’m telling you, this morning of errands really had to be well-planned. Since I had Chippy with me, I had to be strategic. Two food runs had to be made. One run to Wegmans for groceries and the other to the Farmer’s Market in Wayne. I couldn’t leave any food unattended while my little angel was in the car because he would eat whatever I purchased. This was some serious errand Fung Shui.
Upon leaving Home Goods, I drove over to Wegmans. The holiday baking preps needed to be started and I loaded up on all the healthy stuff—like butter and sugar and full-on gluten in the form of white flour. Chips both chocolate and white chocolate were also loaded into the cart. Sugar too. Anything else to add to the holiday weight gain was also thrown into the cart. Got the groceries and headed home. Well. Almost. I had to stop at Starbucks for my Nonfat Chai Latte—because I’m addicted.
Home again. Took Chippy for another bathroom break and put the groceries away.
Something tells me that Chippy would rather be lazing on the love seat than accompanying me in the car. My driving isn’t THAT bad!
Onto the mall. Did you know that stratagem is needed to plan your trips to the mall during Christmas season? Monday through Thursdays are good. Friday, Saturday and Sundays are bad. I braved Friday by parking way, way, way in the back area of King of Prussia Mall. The parking lot is dangerous. The added benefit was that I was able to use this far away parking as an excuse for faux-exercising. I sprinted into the mall.
Why did I go to the mall, you may wonder. I received a gift card from Sephora. $20.00 off of any purchase over $50.00. This gave me an excuse to spend $30.00 that I didn’t have. But hey, Sephora was thinking about me so how could I not reciprocate? I picked up the Urban Decay Naked Smokey Eye Shadow palette. This is normally fifty-four bucks. Imagine my holiday glee when I spent only $34.00 that I didn’t have!
Merry Christmas to me from Sephora–I am still questioning how Sephora gave me a gift and I STILL ended up spending money I don’t have! It’s a great palette though!
Next stop at the mall was DAVIDsTEA.
DAVIDsTEA is the latest addition to our mall. I will be spending much time here!
Oona was all ga-ga over the tea she had when she was in Toronto and could not wait to get back home to tell me all about this relatively new tea company. I thought it would be a great idea to pick up a package of the tea she raved about so we could enjoy some over Christmas while pushing each other’s buttons!
Oona could not stop raving about the Toasted Walnut Tea. I’m in love with the smoky flavored Lapsang Souchong Star Tea–it tastes very earthy–like dirt!
Back in the car and to the Farmer’s Market in Wayne. Bonaparte requested that I make Cornish Game Hen for Saturday night’s dinner. I was game for that (pun delightfully intended)! Going to the Farmer’s Market in Wayne by myself proves my love and admiration for Bonaparte. The place is a filthy mess. The many stands are dirty and shoddy looking. In the past, I’ve purchased fish that I couldn’t eat because it wasn’t fresh. I’ve purchased baked goods that I’ve thrown in the trash and I’ve also had dried up cous-cous salad from one of the vendors. I am not a fan of this place.
However, the saving grace to this place of filth and disgust is the wonderful Rittenhouse Farms. Their poultry is off the charts amazing. I don’t know what the Rittenhouse people are feeding their chickens, hens, rabbits and pheasants, but whatever it is—the poultry is meaty, moist and delicious. It’s the only place I can buy chicken breasts. AND their stand is the only one that is spanking clean!
Do you live near me? Might I suggest a trip to the Wayne Farmer’s Market–just for the sake of purchasing your poultry at Rittenhouse Farms!!
The cleanest vendor at the market. The staff at Rittenhouse are just as nice as their products!
Sometimes Bonaparte amazes me because he is such a clean freak and the fact he loves this pig sty of a market is a mystery to me. I mean, he practically goes into cardiac arrest when I put my feet up on the dashboard of the car because my shoes and/or my feet leave marks—but he’ll be in seventh heaven at a filthy market that sells food!!!!! Go figure.
Errands completed and onto Saturday….
Saturday had me pondering adding a second blog. I’m seriously thinking of creating a food blog. I know. I know. Who needs another food blog—right? This blog would be an extension of my imperfections. Just a blog with my recipes and successes and complete fails.
The issue is working with WordPress. Hey. I love WP, and I just renewed my plan. But trying to navigate through WP is like me being lost in a forest without a compass or a map. Actually it is more like me being lost in a forest with a compass and a map. I understand neither. Trust me, if I go through with this there will be much more cursing and unladylike behavior!
Giving up on the second blog, I had to clean out the pantry. AGAIN. I needed to get organized for my holiday baking and truth be told, I can’t bake until the mess is tidied up and organized!
Before–what a mess
After–nice and organized
Let’s see how long the pantry will stay organized!
I did manage to make a lovely dinner of Cornish hen with a sauce made of a cherry and brandy reduction, potatoes sautéed in duck fat, microwaved frozen spinach and a crème caramel for dessert.
I spatchcocked the hens. Spatchcocking is simply cutting the backbone out and flattening the bird–butterflying. It makes for a more even roast and shortens the time! Don’t the cherries and rosemary look festive?
Cubed potatoes in duck fat are the best way to make potatoes! Duck fat rules!
Dessert was Bonaparte’s favorite. Creme Caramel (it’s CAR-A-MEL. Not CARMUL!). He ate the whole thing!
At least part of my day was productive.
Sunday had me doing housework in the form of dusting. I hate dusting. But the saving grace is that I allow the dust to pile up so when I do dust, I make it worthwhile!
Dusting is the most annoying chore. I would rather spend a weekend ironing!
I also gave myself a roller set. THAT process took all day, and in the evening my hair still wasn’t completely dried. If I had the head of hair I used to have before losing half of it, my tresses would still be damp on this Monday!
The end result of my roller set. At least my gray roots are well-hidden!
A search for one of my favorite Christmas ornaments was also conducted. The Moravian Star ornament that Oona got me years ago. I searched high and low for this sparkly little beauty and it is nowhere to be found. I’m incredibly upset because of the sentimental value this gem offers.
The Moravian Star ornament that Oona gave me was one of my favorites. Watch–I’ll find it in some obscure place some time in July!
Tomorrow I will drive into Bethlehem, Pennsylvania to the Moravian Bookstore to replace it. But I’ll wait till Oona comes home on Christmas Eve to have her hang it on the tree.
Our weekend ended watching Louis Malle’s “Murmur of the Heart”. I hadn’t seen it in like thirty years and it held up well—in addition, Bonaparte’s uncle, Daniel Gelin played the dad. Something even Bonaparte forgot about. Ya know, my weekend may have started out like shit, but it ended nicely!
Louis Malle touched a taboo subject in THIS film. It was actually a good movie!
Enjoy the beginning of your week everyone. Hanukkah has begun and to my friends and family who celebrate this wonderful festival of lights, I wish you an enjoyable eight days and evenings….. Love, Lights and Peace! XOXOXOXO
It was the laziest of times. It wasn’t the worst of times though!
Holiday stress. Job interviews gone bad. My bald spot getting bigger. Mass shootings now a normal occurrence. News reporters being too politically correct. Dirty politicians. What’s a sensitive girl like me to do?
I’ll tell ya what to do!
Keep those pajamas on. Don’t bathe or shower. Stay in bed. Get that remote.
Yeah, I need a pedicure but who cares? It’s winter. I would rather laze and watch old movies on TV!
The morning started innocently and productively enough. While enjoying my morning crack, drug, cup of coffee, I grabbed the remote in order to turn the TV on and educate myself in the current events that may have occurred the evening before. You know the little things—like mass shootings, rapes, murder—it’s just a shot away. It’s just a shot away.
Yes. Merry Clayton’s voice tells it like it is with all the bad stuff that’s going on around us.
Instead, I stopped and went numb when I saw the Turner Movie Classic channel’s guide. “David Copperfield” was just about to start. Followed by “A Tale of Two Cities”. Followed by “Great Expectations”. Followed by “Oliver Twist”. It didn’t even matter that Nicolas Nickleby and A Christmas Carol were not on the roster. The movies that were being shown would have me being lazy from 6:30 in the morning until 3:30 in the afternoon!
What. A. Delightful. Day! I’m tired of the reality binging. Andy Cohen’s Bravo franchises of tacky housewives and other entertaining trollops can’t hold a candle to the trials and tribulations of any of Charles Dickens’ main characters!
The only thing I would exercise would be my right to lie in bed all day and stare entranced at my television set!
With Chippy beside me, my day was planned and started off with David Copperfield.
My Chippy is so intelligent. It was about time he learned about the works of Charles Dickens to begin with!
How did Charles Dickens do it? What an imagination! His stories are dark—and every now and then there is a sprinkling of humor and gaiety, but those moments are few and far between. The theme remains the same wealth v. poverty. Loss of loved ones. Abandonment. Dread. And there is always that optimistic glimmer of light at the end. (Well, maybe not that much light at the end of A Tale of Two Cities).
He always had a great story. Oh..and the characters! In all of his books, he managed to have colorful and flamboyant characters who were good and kind and funny—and they were a sprinkling amid the torn, sad, pathetic and mean ones who graced the books and films come to life!
There could never be a remake with an all-star cast like this one!
These are the original soap operas! David Copperfield played with such gut-wrenching drama by the adorable Freddie Bartholomew.
I wish the child actors of today were even one iota as great as Freddie Bartholomew. He was so incredibly melodramatic without being precocious! I cried at his David Copperfield. I cried!
His widowed mother Clara is such a fragile being. She ends up marrying the awful Mr. Murdstone, played by Basil Rathbone. Mr. Murdstone, along with his sister Jane, wreak havoc with abusive toward David. His only friend and confidante is the Nurse Peggotty (what a name—right???)
Baaahhh-zil Rathbone is so believable as such a nasty Mr. Murdstone. If he were MY stepfather, I would have killed him!
And when David’s poor mother dies, he decides to walk to Dover from London, your heart breaks! During his run or rather, walk away, David meets up with Mr. Wilkins Micawber, played by the great W.C. Fields—comic relief! Micawber is a pleasant con artist of sorts.
Freddie Bartholomew and W.C. Fields were quite the team!
From then, the film shows the difficult travel through visuals of city milestones and poor little David, becoming raggier and dirtier with distance. When he finally reaches Aunt Betsy’s home, she faints at the sight of him. I would too—those shoes were horrific!
Things are brighter at Aunt Betsy’s. She has a boarder at her home, a simple and daft character—Mr. Dick, and the both of them offer humor to the story. Betsy seems prim and proper but when Murdstone and his sister show up to take David away, Betsy’s compassionate side shines through. Life gets good for our little David.
More comic relief in the form of Mr. Dick and Aunt Betsy. Edna May Oliver is my new favorite actress!
David is sent to school in Canterbury and stays at the home of Mr. Whitfield, Aunt Betsy’s business manager. David and Whitfield’s daughter, Agnes, become close friends and kindred spirits.
The “humble” crook, Uriah Heep and young David
Lots more drama—Whitfield has a clerk, Uriah Heep (not the rock group), who claims humility, but in reality is a miserly cheat and scoundrel. David reunites with the wickedly funny Micawber who ends up working for Uriah Heep.
Copperfield, much to the dismay of Agnes Whitfield, ends up marrying Dora. Dora is basically a bimbo—she can’t cook or clean. She’s like a two-year old and is played by none other than Maureen O’Sullivan, Mia Farrow’s mother.
Talk about dumb–Dora was as dumb as they come. Grown up David was love struck for her! Men–they never change!
She gets sick and dies and it is discovered that Uriah Heep is a creep and Micawber saves the day and Whitfield’s money and David and Agnes get married and live happily ever after!
All’s well that ends well. David and Agnes finally end up together. Aunt Betsy is happy as a little clam! Its so filled with gaiety and wonderment!
Next up was “A Tale of Two Cities”.
I’m in love with Ronald Colman. Actually many of the cast of A Tale of Two Cities were in David Copperfield!
The story takes place between London and Paris during the beginning of the French Revolution
Forget Le Miz–THIS group from A Tale of Two Cities was much more revolutionary!
. In a nutshell, nice French doctor released from 18 years as prisoner in the Bastille.
Poor Dr. Manette. He looked awful when Lucie came to bring him to England. His daughter Lucie is supposed to be all of 17 years old. She looks about 30!
One of his workers who now owns a wine shop is “hiding” him until the doctor’s banker and daughter come to bring him to England. The doctor was imprisoned because of a bad and evil aristocrat (dastardly played by Basil Rathbone).
Rathbone rocked the evil Marquis St. Evremonde. I want that hat. I want those boots.
Wine shop owner’s wife is a revolutionary extremist. She hates everyone She wants more heads than ISIS!
Blanche Yurka was fantastic as the extremist revolutionary, Madame Defarge. She gave new meaning to the phrase “off with their heads”!
Kind nephew of evil aristocrat is on ship to England with doctor and his daughter. He wants nothing to do with evil aristocracy.
After getting a good look at Charles Darnay, the handsome aristocrat, I’m sure Madame Defarge wanted BOTH of his heads! Yes she did!
Nephew and daughter hit it off. Sparks are a flyin’.
Sydney Carton, a jaded, drunken but intelligent attorney ends up being the morale of the story.
I’m diggin’ this unkempt Ronald Colman. He’s so intense!
When aristocrat nephew is manipulated into returning to France and jailed, Carton tries to help. In the meantime, he falls in love with Lucie, the doctor’s daughter who is now married to aristocratic Charles Darnay.
The brooding Carton, still unkempt but hot, loves the angelic and very married Lucie. Isn’t Elizabeth Allan beautiful as Lucie? check out her brows and her matte lipstick!
Both men resemble each other. Charles Darnay, the aristocrat, is scheduled to lose his head. Carton devises a plan to switch himself with Darnay. The story ends happy for some but not for Carton. It’s incredibly sad.
Waiting to lose their heads, Carton helps the servant of an aristocrat come to terms with her fate.
One of the best scenes in the movie, however, was the fight scene between Miss Poss and Madame Defarge. Moss Poss is Lucie Manette’s (the doctor’s daughter) nurse servant. These two old gals are fighting it out knocking into tables, rolling on the floor—it’s greatness!
This was THE epic girl fight. It didn’t end too well for Madame Defarge!
My personal favorite Charles Dickens book-as-movie was next. The 1946 version of “Great Expectations” and don’t let anyone tell you any different. This is the best adaptation. Oh, I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that David Lean wrote the screenplay?
This poster says it all. The movie was filled with everything. It “introduced” the very young Jean Simmons. She was such a bitch too!
The movie starts out dark and eerie and young Pip who just happens to be in a grave yard, is grabbed by an escaped convict who threatens him if he tells anyone about this convict’s whereabouts. Pip promises not to rat him out and brings him food and a bottle of brandy in the wee hours of the next morning. The convict is grateful to our Pip.
The movie opens with Pip at his parents’ grave. Who does this in the early morning hours????
I would have that same look on my face, too, if I ran into a convict who looked like that!
Pip isn’t exactly the picture of happiness. He lives with his miserable and abusive sister and her husband. Her husband is a blacksmith and is incredibly kind to Pip. His sister is a real bitter piece of work. She ends up dying from being attacked. Thankfully, Biddy, the girl who is hired to help Pip’s bitchy sister after her attack, and Joe fall in love and eventually marry.
In the meantime, the loony spinster, Miss Havisham, who lives up the road *cough* requests Pip’s services to come and keep company for Havisham’s adopted and beautiful daughter, Estella.
All Miss Havisham wants out of life is to have Pip’s heart broken by Estella! I think Miss Havisham needs a good protein treatment on that head of hair of hers!
Estella is an entitled bitch in training. Miss Havisham gets off on this because she was left hanging at the altar and hates men. She wants Estella to emotionally destroy poor Pip-as if he doesn’t have enough on his plate with that nasty sister of his.
These two dolls are an emotional tag team.
Time marches on. Pip is now a blacksmith apprentice. He is still wheeling Miss Havisham around and Estella is now a grown up bitch—the original “Mean Girl”.
One day, there is a knock at the door. Pip gets news that he has a benefactor and must leave within a week for London—where he will become a gentleman. Pip thinks his benefactor is Miss Havisham. Um. Pip. Really? Havisham wants to destroy you! Wake up boy!
My favorite part of the movie. Pip in London as a gentleman. John Mills looks fabulous in his top hats, frilly shirts and slim cut Victorian suits. A real dandy I must say!
John Mills, left as Pip, with his friend and roommate. Check out the outfit on Pip. The bow. The bow. I wish I had a bow like that for Oona’s hair when she was a little girl!
Anyway, Pip goes to London, becomes a gentleman and sometime later, one night, there is a knock on the door. It’s the convict that Pip fed and didn’t rat out. He ended up in Australia, became a sheep farmer, hit the big-time and amassed a fortune. He was the benefactor who looked upon Pip as a son. It gets better. It turns out he was also Estella’s father. Is this juicy or what????
In true Dickens fashion, the convict gets caught—again, and this time ends up in prison. He gets deathly ill. Pip keeps visiting him and our dear convict dies.
Pip always did the right thing–and he stayed with his convict benefactor until the end. This was a misty-eyed scene for sure.
Pip ends up in a melancholy mood, goes to visit Havisham’s home one more time and sees it is for sale. He also notices the front gate is ajar. He enters into the gloomy, dark and eerie home. He goes to the darkened room that Havisham occupied and what does he see? Estella. Sitting in Havisham’s chair.
This is a very confrontational scene. Pip FINALLY puts his foot down and Estella remains cold and icy!
Pip rips the dark drapes off the windows. He opens the windows to allow the beams of light to shine in on the room. He shakes Estella and tells her she “shan’t” end up like Havisham. Estella starts mumbling about her not getting married—yada yada.
This is one sexy Pip scene. Thank God he took that huge bow off!!
The movie ends with Pip and Estella hand in hand walking out of the mansion and into the sunlit gardens.
Last was “Oliver Twist”. We are all familiar with the musical “Oliver”. Right? “Oliver Twist” is so much better because of its darkness and somber mood. David Lean surely knows how to write a depressing screenplay!
Last Dickens of the day. Bonaparte was very concerned that I did nothing but binge on these movies–scared the “Dickens” outta him!
Poor Oliver Twist. Nobody wanted him. And he was so cute. I know I would not be able to resist that cute face! The orphanage doesn’t want him—because he got the short straw and he asked for more gruel, he was labeled “obstinate”. He becomes boy for sale.
I would have given Oliver a steak. Rare. With a nice Madeira sauce and mushrooms, mashed potatoes, peas and for dessert, to keep it healthy and gluten-free, a slice of flourless chocolate cake!
A funeral director buys him. Oliver is treated like garbage. He runs away.
While in the slums of London, The Artful Dodger spots him and brings Oliver Twist to Fagin’s lair. The Dodger was played by Anthony “Stop The World I Want To Get Off” Newley. He was much better looking as he aged!
Newley looked much better as he got older–but he was great as The Artful Dodger
Now here’s where it gets interesting. In the past I’ve only seen bits and pieces of this version and never paid much attention to Alec Guiness’ Fagin. I couldn’t get past the fact that he sounded more like a student of the Yeshiva than a crook. It was weird. This is Victorian England for cryin’ out loud! Besides, he looked kind of ethnic to put it mildly. Turns out there was a huge controversy about that. The production was deemed anti-semetic. I have to say—I agree with that. Watch for yourself and come back and tell me what you think.
The visual of Alec Guiness as Fagin was very disturbing..and when I Googled, I found out my feelings were justified!
In the meantime, Oliver is being taught to observe the pickpocketing expertise of Artful Dodger and the other naughty boys. In a mix-up, Oliver is blamed for the crime the others carried out and taken to be tried. The man who was the victim, Mr. Brownlow, is compassionate and ends up taking Oliver Twist home to nurse and take care of.
Poor Oliver Twist finally gets the good treatment he deserves–but not for long!
When Fagin and his peer, the wicked Bill Sykes find this out they go bat shit crazy in fear of being found out. Bill Sykes, for some ungodly reason, has a girlfriend. Nancy. She’s the good bad girl.
Bill Sykes, the gun-crazed bully takes Oliver with him on his escape.
As Oliver Twist’s bad luck would have it, while running an errand, Nancy spots him and goes all “he’s my brother” in front of a crowd and Twist ends up back with Fagin.
Nancy feels like shit and decides to track down Brownlow to tell him where Oliver is. Uh Oh. Sykes finds out and murders Nancy! Bad move for Sykes and everyone else except Oliver.
Long story shortened. Sykes grabs Oliver and makes a run. Fagin tries to hide but the crowds all know the dirty deeds that have been done. Sykes accidentally hangs himself and Oliver Twist is reunited with Brownlow.
And—in true Dickens fashion, it turns out that Brownlow is really Oliver’s grandfather! This can only happen in the world of Charles Dickens!
The movie ends with Oliver and Brownlow and Brownlow’s maid walking toward the Brownlow mansion in the sunshine!
There is always a ray of optimism peeking out of the darkness of Dickens. That’s why I love the books and the movies. There are interesting characters with fantastic names. It’s just pure entertainment.
And that is how I spent my day yesterday and I am not ashamed! And I just wanted to share my laziness with you!
Just in case you may not be familiar with Anthony Newley, here’s a clip from the old TV show “Hollywood Palace”. He’s singing “What Kind of Fool Am I?”. Its awesome greatness because he is soooooooooooooooooooooooo dramatic when he sings! Enjoy! XOXOXOXO
This shit needs to stop. I’m not kidding. Once again, American Gun Terrorists strike. And, yes. Guns DO kill. And No. Politicians “pretend” to be upset but they are not. Politicians will NEVER seriously do anything to stop the issues with guns because they are afraid of losing votes…………………………………and so it goes…
Before I continue, I want to tell you how my Thanksgiving rolled. First of all, the timing of Oona’s flight couldn’t have gone better. Her flight arrived early. EARLY! So we went home to a nice dinner of my Essential Thanksgiving Sandwich and in no time we were pushing each other’s buttons as only a mother and daughter can do! I won’t elaborate. Just use your imagination!
But we hugged, kissed, and made up before retiring for the night! Holiday stress!
In the meantime, Bonaparte dropped Chippy off at the PetSmart hotel before we left for the airport. Chippy would stay through Thanksgiving Day. I’m not even going to broach the subject that he could have asked his daughter to watch our dog. God forbid! More Holiday stress.
You’re bringing me WHERE?????
Bonaparte suggested we bring Chippy into NYC and have Chippy wait in the car while we dined on our Thanksgiving dinner at Claudette. Holiday stress at best.
I kindly made the suggestion that perhaps Bonaparte could just stay home with Chippy and that I could drive into the City with Oona and have dinner with my kids by myself. He could open a pack of hot dogs and dine with Chippy. The Acme of Holiday stress!
I’m getting my Holiday Bitch on! Fugget about Christmas cheer! Thanksgiving Day arrived. At 6:30 AM we received a phone call. From PetSmart. Chippy was being taken to the vet for an emergency visit. He had bloody stools. Without going into too much detail or too much about my bitchiness (many naughty things were uttered under my breath), it appeared that Chippy suffered from severe separation anxiety. He was put on antibiotics and he is fine and well and he is now comfy and cozy.
He has not left my side since her arrived home after Thanksgiving. As my son Jake stated “Well, at least ONE of your children hates being away from you!” My dream come true!
Back to Thanksgiving—we had a nice intimate dinner and NYC was great and it was truly a pleasure to be with all three kids. Poor Roman had been up since 2:30 in the morning in preparing for the crew work he had at the parade. Needless to say, he was practically falling asleep at the dinner table. Oona and I were physically fighting with each other to sit next to Jake just so we could “pet” his luxe cashmere blazer. Jake was trying to ignore us. I was annoyed at Bonaparte because he was more worried about Chippy and he wasn’t focusing on socializing during our dinner. THIS was my version of a Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving.
I do not know if we will be welcomed back here.
At least traffic ran smoothly. OK. Well, we got stuck in a bit of gridlock when we got out of the Holland Tunnel into NYC, but it was just for a couple of blocks.
Oona and I did some shopping over the weekend—we checked out the new “Primark” store at King of Prussia Mall. Primark is an amazing “fast fashion” clothing and home goods store that is based in Ireland. Lots of fun stuff and the quality was pretty decent.
Primark–it’s “primarkable”!
I ended up getting a hat that reminded me of the one George Costanza wore in Seinfeld. Remember the fur hat episode? I got this hat for five bucks. It’s so me. Perhaps I am the female version of George!
George Costanza and I have so much in common. The hat I purchased for five bucks sheds just like George’s fake fur hat!
Yesterday Bonaparte and I purchased our 2015 Christmas tree. Much to my dismay, we purchased it at Lowe’s. I refuse to give Lowe’s any of my non-existent money because this shitty establishment supports the faux-Christian Duggar Family. Ugh. However, Lowe’s had a great selection of trees and Bonaparte paid for it—so technically, I didn’t give Lowe’s any of my money!
We ended up purchasing the second Douglas fir tree we spotted. One. Two. Three. Tree! The height may not have been as tall as in the past, but the tree was nice and full.
Our barenaked Lowe’s tree. It doesn’t look that crooked here but within 24 hours it was like the leaning Christmas Tree of Pisa!
Back home, Bonaparte devised a way to keep the carpeting from getting wet from the excess water that may have dripped out of the tree stand. He purchased one of those discs that kids sit in to ride down snowy hills. My concern is this “disc” isn’t exactly level. Bonaparte insisted it is fine.
Not only will this disc keep the carpet dry, but I’ll get to play the game “Guess How Many Times The Christmas Tree Tips Over”. Hmmmm–this could be a new drinking game!
With the tree set up and standing—it fell while Bonaparte was out with clients earlier today–he hasn’t come back yet, and the tree is now crooked as all get out, my “Holiday Bitchiness” is festering. A lot!
But enough about me—it’s time to decorate the tree!
I went out to the garage and got the lights, which were an unorganized mess clustered in bags.
Bags of lights and more stuff that is of great interest to Chippy!
The clustered lights were nothing but a mass of tangles. After untangling the mess, I started to place the lights on the tree ever-so-carefully.
I won’t even tell you how long it took me to untangle these lights!
I even turned the TV on to the Christmas music channel. Does it matter that I have over 50 Christmas CD’s I could have played? No. The Christmas music channel is custom made for lazy slobs such as myself.
This just proves how incredibly lazy I am–I cannot even bring myself to change CD’s. I have to listen to my Christmas music on TV!
So now, I’m in a happy little mood, placing the white lights on the crooked tree, singing along to Christmas songs and taking the time every now and then to threaten Chippy if he comes near my lights.
…..and even more lights. Oh yes. I managed to tangle these up as well!
When I got to the last strand of lights, I realized that I had the wrong connecter end. That last set of lights didn’t have the prongs to plug into the outlet.
In addition, I heard a “crunch”. Chippy was off the sofa and in the dining room. On the floor near his mouth, was a little chewed up light bulb. His stools had better not have as much as one drop of blood! After more holiday bitchiness, Chippy ran back on the sofa. He kept away from the lights and the tree!
SOMEONE got “time out”–on the comfy sofa!
I reached a new low. I stood there and called the lights a “bunch of assholes”. Who does that? Seriously. Am I the only person on earth who curses at her tree lights and refers to the little bulbs of illumination as assholes? I also had a few choice words to describe Bonaparte’s wonderful way of keeping the water off of the carpet.
It took me quite a while to remove all the lights from the tree without yanking them in a fit and taking the tree’s needles off as well. THIS time I plugged the lights into the outlet and started at the bottom of the tree working up. I finally figured it out.
Second time around, I plugged the lights in first then started from the bottom. Duh!
My crooked tree–all lit up. Crooked or not, it looks fine.
Next step. Burlap “ribbon” as garland. Yeah. This year’s theme is “Rustic”. I wrapped burlap ribbon on the stairway and decided to bring it over to the tree. I’m liking the way it looks on my tree that becomes more crooked as the day goes on.
Time for the ornaments!
Tree wrapped in burlap, it was time to place the ornaments on the tree. I’m being a bit “less is more” this year. Actually, that’s my excuse for being too lazy to hang every ornament I own on the tree. Here are some of my favorites:
Remember Bevis and Butthead? Remember The Great Cornholio? Well, here he is. I can’t remember which of our dogs ate his feet and hands. Most likely, it was Dorothy.
I love this Fisher-Price Tick Tock Clock ornament. The hands move! It reminds me of when the kids were younger…
…our beloved Red Sox ornament…
…this Giants ornament is a bit messed up–but I’m so happy to hang it in Eagle’s country! I love those Giants!
..this little chili pepper was purchased in San Antonio when my brother Pete got married…
…my 1959 Barbie ornament is just as beautiful as my original Barbie doll…
Santa Liberty always makes me feel good…
…and this little Irish Dancer was purchased at the 2007 Oireachtas–Oona was a senior in high school!
Whenever I hang this guitar ornament, I think of Roman and his love of music and the guitar lessons he took when he was younger…
…this baseball player always brings back memories of Jake’s baseball days!
Guess what THIS ornament reminds me of???
More memories of Irish roots…
…and one of my favorites–The Blessed Mother of Starbucks. On Christmas Eve she will give birth to a baby latte…..
Here’s my other Starbucks ornament–an homage to NYC! I have a yen for a cup of coffee right now!
This ornament isn’t on the tree, but it Does have a history. I purchased this at Frank’s, a store similar to Michael’s craft store. I got it in 1989 on Central Avenue in Yonkers. When I saw it, it reminded me of my son Jake–and every year I have him on display. It’s too bad I couldn’t get Roman and Oona look alike figures!
Honestly, if it wasn’t raining, I would put Chippy into the back seat of my car and we would venture out in search of a rustic, burlap type of tree skirt. Unfortunately, the weather today is horrific and I’m not going out. But—later on this week, I’ll be out in search of the tree skirt. There is NO WAY I am allowing my crooked tree to be naked at the bottom and have to look at that monstrous disc.
But for now, I’ll enjoy my illuminated tree and stairway!
I’ll enjoy my tree…and…
the stairway!
Happy tree trimming everyone! Enjoy this little song. I miss Karen Carpenter’s rich and smooth voice–she knew how to make a Christmas song so touching and from the heart…Will you be home for Christmas? XOXOXOXOXO!!!!
It’s no secret that I’m not a fan of turkey. Turkey has a distinct timeline. After about two to three hours sitting out in the air of a warm kitchen or dining room, the meat gets dry. I don’t care how long the turkey has been brined, basted and babysat. Eventually, the meat will dry out.
I think that’s why everyone loves the leftover turkey on the essential Thanksgiving sandwich.
You can buy the Thanksgiving Sandwich all year–but to me, it’s special and needs to be made at home..
You know the one I’m talking about. Be it on a roll, spongey white bread or homemade artisanal bread, there is nothing quite like that sandwich of leftover turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce and mayo. It is the relaxing and chill afterthought of Thanksgiving stress.
This year I won’t be cooking because we will be dining in New York City. But that isn’t stopping me from craving that “Essential Thanksgiving Sandwich”. Today, I’m making it happen…
OK—tomorrow we go to pick Oona up at the airport. Her flight is supposed to land at approximately 6:30 PM. Given the fact that tomorrow, the day before Thanksgiving, is the most travelled day of the year, I will take delays into consideration. I’m sure her flight will arrive late.
I’m sure my time on Philly’s Blue Route on the way to the airport will be spent cursing the traffic that will surround my car. I will have to give myself plenty of time to get to the airport. Actually, Bonaparte will be driving because he is a much calmer person whilst driving than I am.
When we arrive back at Chateau Bonaparte, I will have the “Essential Thanksgiving Sandwich” makings at the ready. It’ll also be fun to do the reverse—have the leftover sandwich before Thanksgiving!
I purchased a small turkey breast at Wegmans.
My little A-cup breast! I’m hoping braising it in a slow cooker will make it nice and moist! Like a milk-filled teat…..
This little A-cup won’t be roasted. Instead, I’ll slow cook it in the crock pot with some chicken broth, shallot, (onions bother my GERD—as does too much garlic); a hint of garlic, fresh thyme and Bell’s seasoning.
This stuff is freakin’ amazing. In addition, how could anyone pass this colorful packaging up?
(If you’ve never used Bell’s seasoning, I strongly suggest trying it. Not only does it smell like the incense at church, but it is so delightfully aromatic and gives a nice flavor.) Oh, naturally a bit of salt and pepper to season as well.
My ten-buck crockpot. It’s only me and Bonaparte. Actually this is the first time I’m using this–I hope it works!
The reason for the slow-cooking is to retain moisture. A slow braising if you will!
I stuffed that little titty into the crock pot with a ton of Bell’s seasoning, fresh thyme, chicken broth, shallots and a bit of garlic. Actually, I can smell it from upstairs as I write this and the scent is incredibly pleasing. I’m hungry!
Stuffing? Yeah. Only it won’t be anywhere near the crockpot. I made a quick bread stuffing, which is now officially a dressing because it won’t be cooked in the bird. My mother never added sausage or meat in her stuffing. It was a basic egg, bread, milk, salt, pepper, sautéed onion mixture and it was divine. I followed the same recipe with a few exceptions. I mixed a stale baguette in with the spongey white bread. I added Bell’s seasoning and left out the onions (remember—I have GERD).
Is it stuffing? Is it dressing? I dunno–but it’s pretty darn good! This pic was pre-bake. I took it out of the oven and the outside is nice and crispy and it’s waiting to be sliced and placed on that sandwich!
That’ll be baked for a while until it takes the consistency of a moist bread pudding. I don’t want to overbake it and it’ll firm up in the fridge.
Although I adore my canned and jellied cranberry sauce and have about four cans in the pantry to prove it.
Wegmans calls this “food you feel good about”. If I didn’t feel good about it do you honestly think I would buy it???? I’m imagining this would be great for a UTI as well as a delicious holiday meal treat!
I picked up a bag of cranberries at the grocery store. I followed the directions on the back of the bag to make a sauce/compote –cook the cranberries in water and sugar. That’s it. I did, they are in the fridge and nice and solid. I’m still debating whether to use these cranberries or my beloved canned.
Here’s my fresh cranberries. I’m buying some more because my friend, Stephanie, gave me a great cranberry sauce recipe. By the time Christmas rolls around, I may have had my share of cranberry everything!
Lastly, I’m going to make another brioche.
My brioche ingredients. I have some leftover brioche in the freezer but I’m going to use it for French Toast!
It’ll have to “rest” overnight in the fridge, then rise for a second time tomorrow—so with my time management, we should have nice fresh brioche to toast for the sandwiches.
Brioche dough–ready and placed in a warm place to rise!
It’ll be nice to have a choice of bread—spongey white bread or homemade brioche? It’ll all be good once it’s toasted.
Those sandwiches will taste fantastic on brioche because of the density–there’s no gaping holes for the cranberry sauce to ooze through. I’m getting more hungry by the second!
This Thanksgiving we won’t be seated around a table with a large amount of relatives. Even though we will be at a restaurant, it’ll still be intimate because it’ll be me, the three kids, and Bonaparte.
We will be having Thanksgiving dinner here! I’ll let you know how it was!
I am thankful that I have my children and Bonaparte.
I am thankful that I have my health.
I am thankful that I live in a country where I am free to write whatever the hell I want to.
I am thankful for the roof that is over my head.
I am thankful for our little rescue rascal Chippy.
I am thankful for my Sriracha T-shirt because I thought it was “Siracha”—ya learn something new every day!
My love of “Sriracha” is so intense that I had to get this Tee-shirt to prove it! And to help me spell it correctly!
I am thankful for all the readers of my blog. You keep me going—even when my laziness creeps in, I keep at it. Thank you so much! XOXOXOXO!
Thank you. And…”Thank You For Being A Friend”…Andrew Gold!
First of all, I’m so tired of dealing with the hair loss. Honestly, after I pulled my hair back in a ponytail, I got a side glance in the mirror and this time saw a huge chunk of scalp in an area that had hair not too long ago.
Slowly, I am coming to grips with the fact that no amount of Rogaine or Biotin is going to grow my hair. I am so ready to start wearing assistant hair. Wigs. Luckily I started ordering wigs some time ago which gives me a stack of pret-a-porter tresses.
That time has come today. Missing my bobbed hair of quite a few years ago, I opted for my off-black Scorpio wig by Revlon. Bonaparte thought it looked cute and gave me a 1960’s vibe. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll opt for a longer wig.
It’s cute–right? I’m kind of liking the shorter bob look!
Wednesday I’ll be going to Adam for a blowout. I’m saddened to say it will most likely be the last blow out for a long time. Because I’ve decided to just give the hair that I do have a rest. It’s breaking and brittle and dry and just needs some TLC right now. The wigs will do my natural hair well!
It doesn’t look too wiggy either. Well, I HOPE it doesn’t look too wiggy! Oh–who cares HOW it looks!
Now that the hair issue is out of the way, I’ll entertain you with the rest of my day.
After taking inventory of wrapping paper and embellishments, it was time to incorporate more tissue paper and boxes.
There was a time when receiving a nice, sturdy box—complete with tissue paper, was an automatic given. No more. Even though most people at present are Christmas and Holiday shopping, asking or kindly requesting gift box is mandatory or you will not have a box to place the gift into.
I did some shopping last month at Madewell for a couple of gifts for Oona. Although I did receive the boxes that I practically had to beg for, the boxes didn’t come with tissue paper. In addition, the boxes are one piece. The top is connected to the bottom and you need to fold parts of this one piece box into place.
Madewell’s boxes leave much to be desired but I see that they made sure their logo was quite spectacularly perfect!
I swear you have to be some sort of engineer to figure out just how to turn this one-piece of cardboard structure into what will eventually resemble a box. In trying to fold the corners, I ripped the box and had to tape it together.
It took me fifteen minutes to figure out how to fold this–and I STILL managed to rip the box. Ugh. It’s so damn cheap looking!
I’m glad that I can purchase plain, two-piece boxes at discount stores.
Oh…and let me mention that I prefer the white tissue paper because it won’t clash with the wrappings when the box is opened. But, the white tissue paper is actually more expensive than the cheesy and colored Christmas tissue paper. I’m cheap—so I went with the cheesy and colored paper.
I’m hoping that before opening gifts, way too much Martha Stewart Eggnog will be drunk-drank-drunken? so that nobody notices this cheesy tissue paper that will be inside the gift boxes. Can you believe that plain white was more expensive?
Did I also mention that each person in the house gets their own special wrapping paper? I call this “lazy mom” wrapping. I can’t stand name tags—they are too small and never look pretty. Instead, I’m able to tell which gift belongs to whom by their personal paper! Smart—right?? Sometimes it just pays to be lazy. Here’s how this practice strongly impacts my grown, adult kids. Two years ago, I went against the grain and did the mixed wrapping paper and name tag thing. The kids hated it. Yes. My adult children were shocked and disappointed because their gifts were not wrapped uniformly with their special paper. I learned a lesson that year….
Guess who got the Target deer head wrapping paper? I cannot wait to embellish these gifts!
Back to wrap.
I embellished one of the gifts with a bow. Thank God it was the first gift wrapped because I realized that the bow would be squished upon placing it back in the “hiding” bag. The ribbons, bows and embellishments will have to wait till just before the gifts are placed under the tree!
In keeping with my “rustic” themed Christmas decor, I carried it over to the wrappings. This STILL needs more—-perhaps some fake cranberries in the middle of the bow!
Scissors, tape, wrapping paper, bags and everything else created such a mess on the dining room table that I was so happy Bonaparte was with clients.
It IS rather messy. Bonaparte would definitely NOT approve of this mess!
Speaking of tape, I purchased a package of four rolls of Scotch Tape. One being “free”. Let me tell you something. The fourth roll is not free. The tape company makes the rolls of tape much smaller than usual. I used an entire roll of tape on about ten gifts. And I don’t use large pieces.
Free roll my ass. They make the rolls so sparsely filled with tape that you need one roll for under ten gifts!
And another thing–see the top tab on this box? You need to tape that tab down in order to get a decent wrap job on this pack of pencils. This kind of packaging drives me nuts!!
Gifts all wrapped, it was time to bring the remaining paper upstairs and out of Bonaparte’s sight.
Wrapped but not fancied up yet, the gifts will be hidden. And will await the rest of the gifts I still need to get!
I swear to God you will not believe what happened. One of the rolls of paper hit the wall going up the stairs and left a dent in the dry wall. When Bonaparte reads this the shit will hit the fan and he will blame me for not being careful.
Look what the wrapping paper did. I swear it was NOT me!
It wasn’t me. It was the paper!
Bonaparte, my Christmas elf, is a fine one to be criticizing though. He claims to “nut cahhr” about the decorations. For the past couple of weeks he’s been muttering about “zuh pip-uhl ou ahr crizee to ‘ev zuh decoratshunz up so uhlee”. (Translations: 1. Not care. 2. The people who are crazy to have the decorations up so early.)
This morning Bonaparte asked me “Casseee. Why do ou nut ‘av zuh leets and grins ‘ang-ing from zuh dick?” NOTE: In this instance “dick” is “DECK”—it’s the deck! He’s French! (Translation: Cathe, Why do out not have the lights and greens hanging from the deck?)
I’ll be adding ribbon to this mix as well–but for now, I need to apply some band-aids to my hands!
So after all the wrapping was finished, I was out on the “dick” with greens, wire, wire cutters and lights. And my hands have the cuts and scrapes that went along with it.
I thought I cleaned the table up nicely. Bonaparte pointed out that I left some of my mess in the bowl. Oops! Time for a cup of tea!
So now, as I relax, the only song that can possibly come to mind after this post is “Christmas Wrapping” by The Waitresses—quite possibly one of the greatest Christmas songs of all time! Enjoy!
I’ll tell ya, I’m so happy to be back in front of the keyboard and returning to writing. It’s more fun to just talk about everything and nothing…
Speaking of which, Friday turned out to be both a busy and reflective day.
It started out with me traveling to the Pine Barrens in NJ to attend my Aunt Catherine’s funeral. Once I got out of the Philadelphia area, the drive was incredibly relaxing and pleasant. The trees are still scattered with their multi-colored leaves and the bright reds, oranges, and yellows against the clear blue sky was beautiful. In a couple of weeks, we will be entering into that monochromatic landscape of grays and browns and overcast skies—until the rebirth of Spring.
Anyway, lately I’ve had my share of funerals. And I’m tired of wearing black, so I decided to brighten the mood by dressing in navy. Among the sea of gray and black it was a nice change.
That’s me dressed in Navy amid the sea of funeral black!
I have to be honest here and don’t want to sound morose but this funeral Mass was the nicest and sweetest one I’ve ever attended. Let me tell you why—then I’ll get to the foodie thing—ok?
First of all, there was no casket. Instead, at the foot of the altar, was a table. On the table were beautiful flowers in hues of pink and rose. Also placed in the middle of the table was a beautiful and plain marble box. In that box were the ashes of my aunt. It was moving. And to tell you the truth, it made for a more relaxed and comfortable service. Just knowing that there wasn’t a “body”—all dressed and stuffed into a wooden casket, that wouldn’t be lowered into the dirt set a vibe that just was not depressing.
This photo of my aunt Catherine was taken when she graduated from high school. She remained a beauty till she passed away!
The service was short and sweet. Her grandchildren and children spoke about her and it was lovely. In fact, I found something out about her that I never knew. I just assumed Aunt Catherine returned to work because the kids were getting older and she wanted something to do. No. She returned to work because her husband, my Uncle Johnny, was diagnosed with cancer and his time was precious. She returned to work because she knew that she would soon be the main supporter of her family. She never let on and never complained and never set herself up as a martyr. She was a good woman.
Following the service, the family hosted a luncheon. Unfortunately I was unable to attend due to the distance I had to drive. In addition, Bonaparte and I had plans to attend dinner that night…
And now, I give you the story and the reasons that I am hanging my foodie apron on the hook.
Well, realistically, I’m keeping THIS apron. It’s my favorite one because I can get it as messy as need be and bleach will always clean it!
Bonaparte and I don’t go out to dinner often. But when we do, we make sure it is to a restaurant worth spending the money on and we make sure the restaurant will offer the types of food we enjoy.
It isn’t a matter of being a “foodie” or a food “snob”. It’s a matter of being frugal and liking to cook and dine in the comfort of our own home. We save the restaurant visits for special occasions.
Yes. I love to eat! And while I love great food, I don’t consider myself a “foodie” because that word just has a negative and douchey vibe to it!
Dining at home lends itself well to relaxing and savoring and being able to take your sweet time. We are both tired of going to restaurants and being rushed. I cannot stand when the plates are taken away before the last person in the party is finished with their meal. I don’t want servers coming up to me every five minutes and asking me if everything is ok. This is NOT the fault of the server. It is the fault of the uneducated management. It’s all about the money..
Anyway, last Christmas we received a gift certificate to a restaurant in Philadelphia, Bibou. We’ve been to Bibou in the past and the food is amazing. The service is spectacular. It’s a well-run place with a menu that offers excellent dishes. The servings are just right—not too small and not loaded onto the plate like slop. It’s the kind of restaurant where you remember and talk about the meal for a long time and when friends and family are looking for a great place to dine, you tell them to make reservations at Bibou and make them well in advance.
Are you following me?
Good. Bonaparte and I decided to “save” the gift certificate and use it when we just felt we “needed” a great night out. We made reservations for October but had to cancel them because we were in Paris for Danièle’s funeral. No big deal. We tried to move the reservations to another Saturday evening, but all that was available for the rest of the year was Friday, November 20th, the Friday that just passed. We had to take that date because, unbeknownst to us, Bibou’s policy was that the gift certificate would expire at year’s end. This was a policy that both of us weren’t too fond of. Neither of us wants to be dictated as to the timeframe of the certificate. Alas, that’s the policy. So be it.
Again. Another funeral. But again, no big deal because I would be home in plenty of time for us to go to the restaurant. Besides, both of us needed a night out where we could put all of the latest life events behind us.
In the meantime, we discovered that Bibou had changed the dining format. No longer would the regular meals be offered, but the menu had changed to a tasting menu only. This should have been a red flag for me to just let the certificate go unused. Why? Because whenever I see “Tasting Menu” , I know that the small amount of food will be incredibly overpriced and we will have to deal with a room full of pretentious foodies. (Cest MOI???).
I still laugh every time I see this commercial because this guy IS so pretentious!
Anyway, here’s the menu and obnoxious dinner pics–but I took them because I had a blog post in mind!:
The menu. If only the portions just were a tad more than one bite….
We started off with this little amuse bouche. With our Kir Royales, these tasty bites were very nice!
The Curry Mussel Cream was great, but the fennel lacked a bit of flavor….
Next tasting was the pig snout and that cute little quail egg. Honestly, the pig snout was the best thing on the menu. I would have finished off a ton of these things!
The photos are getting a little fuzzy. That’s because of all the wine I started drinking. Bonaparte isn’t much of a fish eater but he loved this Mahi Mahi. And the photo looks a lot bigger than the actual portion…but it was very good.
Bibou, luckily is a BYOB restaurant. We had a nice bottle of this Margaux. I love it because it tastes like dirt!
Foie gras was next. Again, I could have finished off a lot more than this!
The one bite of lamb was perfect…..
This is the Brillat-Savarin Truffle with Warm Saint-Maure de Touraine. Don’t even ask me to explain what it really is because the wine was giving me a buzz. All I know is that this was some seriously good shit!
Dessert. Cranberry tarte. Take a guess at why the photo is completely out of focus!! *burp*
Was it spectacular? Well—yes. And no. The food that we had tasted great. I could have devoured an entire plate platter of the pig snout. It was comparable to the pig cheeks I had at “Frenchie” in Paris. (OK, WHO sounds pretentious now? I do—but I don’t mean it in a pretentious way!)
Pig cheeks from Frenchie were fantastic–but my visits back never measured up to that first one!
What bothered me was the $100.00 per tasting plate. Honestly, I didn’t think it was worth the money for the one bite. Look, I’m not one of those diners who judge on the amount of food. In fact, I cannot stand having too much food on my plate. I believe in quality over quality. However, for one bite—the price point could have been lowered to about $75.00 per person. After all, I’m a woman who needs to prioritize my spending—I have a shoe budget you know!
We did have a great time though—we had a lively conversation with the diners at the table next to us and we did slum it by stopping at Mc Donald’s on the way home!
Yes. I hadn’t had a McDonald’s burger in years (remember, though, I did sample some McDo’s fries in Cannes over the summer and they tasted just as bad as the ones sold here!) and on Friday evening after our expensive tasting menu, I had not one, but two cheeseburgers!
Last night for dinner, I made one of Bonaparte’s favorite meals. Chicken Veronique—chicken with grapes in a wine/cream-based sauce. I made my “Chez Paul” potatoes. Potatoes inspired by Restaurant Paul on Place Dauphine. For dessert, Bonaparte enjoyed a slice of my home made Brioche topped with butter and honey.
I made these potatoes sauteed in butter AND duck fat. So tasty and delicious…
The brioche always turns out great because it is Thomas Keller’s recipe!
This meal may have sounded fancy, but it wasn’t. It is just the good and comforting French home-style cooking that Bonaparte loves and that I’ve learned to cook with love and from the heart.
I yi yi! I’m tired of the foodie generation turning donuts into gourmet treats. A friggin’ donut is a donut is a donut. Just because it’s topped with bacon doesn’t mean it has been turned into a pretentious, complicated and arty form of dessert cuisine. It’s a damn donut with bacon.
Even when topped with Bacon, it’s still just a donut. It isn’t a gourmandise fancy pastry. It is a donut!
I’m keeping my fingers crossed that my beloved veal kidneys don’t become a foodie favorite because they will make the leap in pricing from dirt cheap to outrageously expensive. That would be offally awful!
Please keep veal kidneys unappetizing to many–or they will become too pricey! Hmmmm…I’m beginning to have a “kidney kraving”!!
Foodie has such a negative impact—doesn’t it? I’m just a person who loves to eat. And cook. And bake. Especially for those I love! I’m a “Cookie“!
Since the topic today is food—how’s about some “Food Glorious Food” from Oliver?
Enjoy the rest of the weekend. Try to keep out of the supermarket due to the crowds prepping for Thanksgiving! I am thankful we are going to a restaurant for Thanksgiving. After all, it is for a special occasion! XOXOXOXO!!!
