In less than a month I will be bidding farewell to my 50’s and entering a new decade—60 years old, 60 years young, whatever you chose to say, I will be 60. When I look in the mirror, I see an older version of myself.
My once smooth skin is now spotty from the sun damage of baby-oil and iodine; lest I forget to add the double-album record cover opened up with a sheet of aluminum foil, shiny side up to get more of those ultra violet rays!
Baby Oil, Iodine, A double-record album cover–or two covers taped together, covered with aluminum foil was the best old-school, DIY sun reflector. If I only knew now what I didn’t know then!!
We all sat out in the sun and baked–just like this!
There’s a couple of scars too, to keep me in check and give me reminders: The scar over my right brow from my Mohs surgery for Squamous Cell tells me to keep using that sunscreen, wear a hat in the sun and always sit under an umbrella at the beach. Fake tan is a BFF!
See those scars that look like slices–they keep me in check these days. The only baking I do these days is dessert baking!
A scar underneath my bottom lip reminds me of my bathtub accident—the one where I fell and bit through my lip, causing it to be sewn back together. THAT scar reminds me to stop, take a step back and to not be in such a hurry or take shortcuts. In case you are wondering—I was in our master bath—this is back in 1995, and I noticed that one of the shades was not pulled down to the exact spot I had marked (Yes. I was OCD about where the window shades needed to be pulled down. I wanted them all evenly set so I marked, with a pencil, on the side of the window where the shades needed to be pulled). Picture, if you will, three windows overlooking the tub. Rather than step into the tub to adjust the shade, I had a brainstorm. It would be quicker if I “jumped” over the tub. Well, I had socks on. The dry tub was slippery. I lost my footing. I fell. My head bounced from one side of the tub to another, and my forehead hit the faucet. The force from the fall caused me to “bite” through my bottom lip. Only I didn’t realize this because I was in a state of shock. My ex-husband came running upstairs and his reaction was “Holy shit—it’s The Shining”—there was that much blood.
When the ambulance crew came to bring me to Princeton Medical Center, all I could do was beg them “Hey, please don’t get blood on my carpeting. I just shampooed them”. Waaaa. Wahhhh!!!!!
The good doctor at Princeton Medical Center upon seeing my blood strewn face said “Somebody up there likes you. You should have broken your neck. You are lucky”!
With 30 stitches to the scalp and my bottom lip sewn together, I learned a valuable lesson. Nothing is worth killing yourself over. Take your time! That mouth scar is barely visible these days—the doctor who sewed me up was a military field surgeon and he did a great job. However, when the weather gets cold or damp, that “scarred” area gets taut, and serves as an omen! Surprisingly, hair grew back to cover the scarring from the stitches on my scalp. Horray!
My eyes will also remind me when to take a break—the get really, really crossed—and I can feel the strain.
All these imperfections are ME. Some of them, like my eyes, have been a part of who I am since I was born. The others—well, even though I may have acquired them later on in my lifetime, they are still a part of who I am and I wouldn’t change a thing. Seriously. I would never get rid of my scars. Scars are great reminders!!!!
As a child, I guess I was pretty goofy looking, but I never gave my looks much of a thought until I hit the awful age of pre-teen. Where so many girls were growing long and luxurious locks, my mane had turned from wavy to absolutely thick, frizzy unmanageable mop. So much so that my mother had my air cut into a “pixie”. Add to that, my brows, which at one point were twins, now melded together to form a uni-brow. No. It doesn’t end there. I grew fine hair above my upper lip. In certain light you could really notice my “mustache”. It was awful. I could be over-reacting, but in my mind, I was the ugliest duckling and black sheep of all time. When you’re a kid–you think these things!
In my mind–THIS is what I looked like as a pre-teen and a teenager. My last name should have been Leigh–and my first name “Ugh”..get it? Miss Ugh Leigh!
But hey, one of my favorite actresses, Cloris Leachman was a mustachioed lady in “High Anxiety”. You rock that ‘stache Cloris!
And why do the antagonists of children’s stories HAVE to be labeled as “ugly”????
Yeah…why is it that if you are ugly on the inside–movies automatically make characters ugly on the outside??? Personally, I like their long eyelashes–even if they only have three lashes on each eye–plus, their hair isn’t frizzy!
Two incidents scarred me. Not physically, but my self-esteem was shattered. One day, I was walking home from school—I lived within that perimeter of St. Patrick’s where I could either walk or take the bus. One of the busses passed by and Tim Schmidt, a classmate yelled out the window “Hey. Wynne. You are the UGLIEST girl I’ve ever seen”. Rather than be a good Catholic girl, I just held back my tears, gathered up all my strength and yelled back “You suck!” (My wit hadn’t been developed yet).
Another incident. 8th Grade. Religion class. Bill Weigand turned around to ask me for a pen or something. Instead he looked and said really loudly so the rest of the class could hear “You have a mustache. You are a mustachioed girl”. As I write this, I can still feel the humiliation and embarrassment of his words.
Isn’t it amazing how mere words can dig deeper wounds than any physical ones? Having to deal with brothers and sisters who were very good looking didn’t make me feel any better. Honest to god, my mother didn’t know what to do because she never had any of those issues—like a hairy face. She never even got sunburnt. She had that perfect blend of skin that only tanned. Arrrrghhhh!
I was The Black Sheep of the family.
The motto of Black Sheeps everywhere!!!!
I was the ugly duckling. If only I had my 8th grade graduation photograph you would be able to see the similarities between “Pat” and me! I was “Pat’s” thinner sibling!
We could be sibs!
But hey, it’s all cool. Looking back, I wouldn’t have been able to make fun of myself had I been flawless! There would be nothing to work with for cryin’ out loud! Like Alfalfa’s cowlick being his personality, my imperfections are a huge part of my personality!
I could have been his mom–there IS a resemblance!
…and so I go on to transform myself into a swan-perhaps an old and ancient swan, but nevertheless more swanny than not.
Well, not a complete swan, but closing in on 60 years, not an ugly duckling anymore!
Here’s to the special group—the ugly ducklings and black sheep. We may not be conventional beauties, but we sure as hell have great character and a great sense of humor with the ability to laugh at ourselves!
Remember this great movie about Hans Christian Anderson? Here’s Danny Kaye singing about “The Ugly Duckling”! To all the people out there who have ever felt like an ugly duckling or black sheep. This song’s for you! XOXOXOXOXO!
Oh boy. Can I just tell you how bad my day was yesterday? It started out in theory, pretty darn good but as the day progressed…it turned into a three-ring disaster of sorts. Kind of like the main character in Judith Viorst’s iconic children’s book “Alexander and The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day”! Move over Alexander–it’s Cathe’s turn now!
Yesterday, I was Alexander. BTW–the BOOK is far better than the horrific Disney movie version!
Let’s go back a couple of days—remember how I posted about making an Omelette Norvegienne for Monsieur Bonaparte? I Googled, and researched and discovered that it was basically a French version of Baked Alaska. Genoise cake with a thin layer of melted chocolate to coat so the cake wouldn’t get all mushy when the ice cream is set upon the cake then an Italian Meringue to cover and popped into the oven for a few minutes. I got as far as the genoise–but more about that later……
So—yesterday while running errands, I stopped at Sur-La-Table to see if I could find a long rectangular mold for the cake layer and the ice cream. What I ended up with was a Pullman loaf pan. *NOTE: These pans are used for making sandwich loafs as the bread bakes into a square shape. I figured this would work for the dessert, AND, when I make pates and terrines, it would be perfect for a nice even loaf.
I also ended up with vanilla paste and a silicone pastry brush. Honestly, I just cannot get enough vanilla. I love using it in all my baking—but like Ina Garten, The Barefoot Contessa, I like to use good vanilla. I love my new baking toys!
My new toys. Pullman loaf pan, silicone basting brush that will be used as a pastry brush, some disposable pastry bags and vanilla paste!
I love the Neilsen-Massey brand vanilla. Other than Mexican vanilla, it’s the next best thing. The paste (right pic) is more of a thick liquid–like molasses. A small amount goes a long way!
When I arrived home, Monsieur Bonaparte mentioned in passing that he was concerned with the “recipes” I found for the Omelette Norvegienne. He further explained that when he was in Switzerland and France experiencing this wonderful dessert, the covering was not meringue, but it was more like a soufflé or a crepe. I, ever the sweet and caring person that I am, mentioned his age and told him he must’ve been thinking of a different dessert.
The ice cream desserts I experienced as a child were Good Humor Toasted Almond bars vs. Chocolate Chip Candy bars. I experienced these delicate desserts not in France or Switzerland, but on the street corners in Queens, NY and in Bay Shore, NY. We are worlds apart!
This is where MY fancy ice cream desserts came from….
Here’s where it starts to go downhill.
Since I couldn’t translate the French version that was found on the net, I went with a Martha Stewart genoise for the bottom layer. Martha Stewart Genoise cake. I followed directions to a “t”, but thought something was just slightly “off”—the batter seemed heavy and a genoise is much lighter. Cake cooled, cut into rectangles to fit into the mold, I brought the extra cake to Bonaparte, who had since come home.
Genoise. Looks good, full of flavor (thanks to the extra vanilla) but way too heavy. Fail!
In his nicest way, he told me the cake had a great flavor but was way too heavy for a genoise. Epic fail! I knew he was right; and my anxious obsessiveness took over.I would have to start from scratch! Remembering an old school French cookbook that hadn’t been unpacked since our move, I went downstairs and went through the unopened boxes of books until I found it– (we really have to unpack –we’ve been here almost a year already), aptly titled, complete with French attitude “I Know How to Cook”.
It would have been far better had I checked this book first! It IS the French equivalent to “Joy of Cooking”. If you want old-school French basics–this is the book!
Sonofabitch! Bonaparte was correct! This old school cookbook—the French equivalent to our “Joy of Cooking” had the “Omelette Norvegienne” recipe that Vincent remembered. The recipe included the three parts: Savoy Gateau, ice cream, and a sweet soufflé covering.
I could not believe that the actual recipe was found-the recipe, as well as Bonaparte, are both “old-school”!
Even though I was starting over, I would do a comparison. I would make both the Baked Alaska based recipe AND the old school Omelette Norvegienne!!
My bad day started with a failed cake—it would soon continue in other forms.
While whipping the egg whites for the Gateau Savoy, I noticed that my Kitchen Aid was making a loud noise. When I turned around to see what was happening, I saw that the motor was separating from the base! By the end of the mixing process, my Kitchen Aid broken in two–the motor separated from the base!!!
Note the pliers in the background by the eggs. After he gained some sense of calmness, Bonaparte thought he could put the Kitchen Aid back together with pliers! It did not work. HOW does this happen to a two year old Kitchen Aid?????
I had my old Kitchen Aid for over 30 years. And—after 30 some years my machine just faded—the motor died. I used that mixer almost every day. The kids got me the new Kitchen Aid as a Christmas gift two years ago. What goes on?
Not even a minute later, I opened the “plastic wrap parchment paper and foil drawer”. The drawer fell apart.
I swear I had NOTHING to do with this drawer falling apart….
The sight of this broken drawer will fester on me until it is fixed. My entire kitchen looks awful now! (remember–I am an anxiety-ridden individual !)
While I realize there are far worse occurrences, I started thinking about my last job interview—and obviously NOT getting the job—even though the interview went very well, in this very moment, the tears started filling up. A perfect day gone awry.
The icing on the cake—Bonaparte entering the kitchen, spotting the Kitchen Aid in half, the drawer broken, and the mess in front of me. He had the nerve. The absolute nerve to say to me:
“Oh mah got. Wut deed ou doooo to zis ples? Cassie. Ou ahr so messy—eezz a war zun!
The remaining conversation can be left to your imagination.
The end result was a phone call to Kitchen Aid customer service. They are sending out a replacement mixer that should be arriving within 7 to 10 business days.
A phone call was also made to, Paul, the contractor who installed the backsplash and chair rail. He’s coming over on Monday to fix the drawer.
One last thing—before I went to sleep last night, and after Bonaparte took Chippy out and shut off the lights, he handed me a little piece of a steel and asked if I broke anything else. I could not recall.
Things are now back to normal. There are two desserts awaiting the final steps for comparision. ( You know I’ll be sharing the results on Sunday).
Gateau Savoy–see the sugary “crust” on the top? (far right slice). This is much, much lighter….
The Omelette Norvegienne will be I the Pullman pan, the Baked Alaska in the regular loaf pan. All layers have been brushed with chocolate so that the cake won’t get mushy from the ice cream. (right pic).
Both desserts are in the freezer awaiting their coverings. Which will be the better?
And..I’m wishing this snow would just go away!
Mother Nature is being rather bitchy today!
XOXOXOXO.
In remembrance of my terrible, horrible, very bad day. Here’s a an exerpt from the cartoon version based on Judith Viorst’s great book—it was one of the kids’ favorite books AND the VCR cartoon version was played over and over and over and over….enjoy! Keep watching—Alexander sings about his very bad day! *Shhhhh* I still sing the song that Alexander sings! After 25 years, it still brings back great memories of my kids!
Ouch…Day after St. Patrick’s Day. My memory goes back to those fun times of waking up on March 18th in desperate need for the perfect hangover breakfast. A greasy fried egg, bacon and cheese on a sesame bagel only too be washed down with a chocolate malted. Yeah.
Yeah..that’s how I woke up on past “Day After St. Pats'”–not a pretty sight, but I would feel close to human after a disgustingly greasy fried egg, cheese and bacon on a sesame bagel and a chocolate malt or shake. Screw the points!
Now I’m old and on Weight Watchers (which is a total joke because I have no willpower). Breakfast on this non-hangover March 18th was coffee and a banana.
Already planning for Saturday evening’s dessert, I’ve got my list in hand and will head to Wegman’s later on. Bonaparte asked me if I could attempt to make an “Omelette Norvegienne”—basically, it’s a fancier version of Baked Alaska. I’ll make the genoise layer tomorrow to be one step ahead in the prep work! I’ll be posting step-by-steps later in the week!
Omelette Norvegienne covered in Italian Meringue
Cut into it and it’s ice cream and a genoise! It’s going to be fun to make.
My skin is an absolute mess. I didn’t even put foundation on today. I just did the eyes, swiped blush over my cheeks and shined the lips up. I need a facial in the worst way. It’s so disgusting–look at all those spots. Ugh! I’ll tell ya, I’ve seen better days!
I purposely made this large because I wanted to give a better look at how red/ruddy/uneven/spotty my skin is. Also, five minutes after lip gloss–it’s all gone! Why bother? Right??? Oh well, a face mask purchase in in order!
Wanting to do something a bit different with my hair, I decided on an off-to-the-side-messy-clippy-thing. I used a smaller claw to keep my hair up rather than a twirly-do hair tie.
A smaller claw instead of a twirly-do would be fine for today!
I gathered my hair loosely to the side, being careful to make sure my “thinning” spots in the back were hidden. Then I just gathered the hair, twisted it loosely, and held it up with the claw. The looser-slightly “off” look, was more casual than a severe, pulled back bun. What do you think?
I was very careful to hide the “thinning” and “baldy” spots!
A new take on the “messy bun”–the “messy clip”–look. I like it a lot because it isn’t so “done”. Easy peasy!
The clothes look today is just all black. The pants are from Gap—1969 legging jeans—I love them because they stretch with my body. I gained some weight but they still fit. When I lose the added-on weight, they’ll go back to their original shape. I also have on a GREAT turtleneck I purchased for $5.00 from Old Navy. I purchased it around Christmas time, I believe. Topped it off with a black and white checked scarf and wore my “nun” boots. Black Pea Coat and Jacrew Bromley bag and the look was complete. I love monochromatic dressing when I’m running around. It looks neat—plus all the fabric I have on is stretchy, which makes it super-comfy.
OOTD-Black “Nun” Boots, Black Gap 1969 Legging Jeans, Black Stretchy Old Navy Turtleneck, inexpensive black and white checked scarf. J. Crew Bromley bag and my $13.00 pea coat “find” at Target!
Bonaparte has a hole in his schedule so we ran a few errands together. He’s on the hunt for battery-operated lights that he can “stick” under the kitchen cabinets. I have NO idea why he wants this because I am the one who is in the kitchen more than anyone else. The lighting is fine. But—since I’m a giver, if he wants to keep searching—so be it!
He did find these lights at Lowe’s the other day. He did not buy them because he still wanted to look around. He’s famous for this sort of shopping pattern. He’ll search for what he needs, find it, and then continue the search in about 10 other stores. He will finally decide to go with the item he spotted in the first store he went to. The item will no longer be in the store. He will become all pissed off and start mumbling and complaining in French. He gets more pissed when I laugh and remind him that I always buy what I’m looking for when I first spot it. Then he starts mumbling in more French. What can I say?
Today’s search for these lights was in “Bed, Bath and Beyond”. Hey. Have you been to BB&B lately? I’m sorry to say this, but it has turned into a junk store! Seriously. The store is nothing but infomercial items and—well, cheaply made goods.
What goes on with “Bed, Bath and Beyond” these days? Look at this stuff! The luggage tray WAS intriguing though–with airport delays occurring on a regular basis, that tray may be of interest. Product like these have taken away from great bedding and table linens. Too bad! I really used to like this store.
What a disappointment—I remember when BB&B was a great place to find table linens, kitchen wares, bedding—now it’s just awful.
Next stop was one of my faves—”Home Goods!” I knew those little lights would not be had at Home Goods but I had an agenda. Remember the other day when I almost purchased that round little table? The one that was $39.99? Well, I wanted to see if it was still there. It was.
Remember this? I was on the fence since it was a bit wobbly, but the price was right.
Bonaparte wasn’t crazy about it—so he “found” another table for $99.99. It actually was a better choice because it was well-made and was perfect for the family room. He purchased it—and reminded me for the next two hours about his “great eye” for decorating.
Out of “Home Goods” and home with me!
Since I’m blind in one eye, I reminded him that I literally, have A great eye for decorating as well! Who’s in charge here anyway???
Bonaparte placed it too far from the sofa. But I like it better MY way. My good eye made me move it!
Final stop was Costco. It never ceases to amaze me at what Costco has to offer! Who needs this “floating” thing? Is it a room? Is it a bed? Just how big is the pool that can handle this thing? We spotted a beach cart that I thought was well-needed for the summer trips to the shore, but didn’t make the purchase.
I’m still trying to figure out just who is going to spend the $99.99 on this floating “thing”. Beaches won’t allow it–so you HAVE to have a huge pool! Weird!
With 6-points worth of samples, I had to get out of the food area quickly! Do you like the flowers we got? Costco has the best flowers and the price to match. A huge bouquet for $14.99 is quite the bargain.
Costco flowers–can’t beat the price or the assortment!
Well, Bonaparte’s hole has been filled—so I’m finally off to Wegman’s for my ingreeds!
If you have a hangover, don’t forget to eat lots of carbs and eggs and drinks that are chocolate. XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO!
Since I’m all in black today, I thought I would post “Baby’s in Black” –an oldie but goodies from Beatles ’65!
March 17th brings many celebrations of all things Irish for those who are Irish born, Irish Americans and all others around the world with Irish blood!
St. Patrick–our patron Saint. I even attended St. Patrick’s grammar school in Bay Shore, NY!
When I was younger, and at the age of pre-celebrations, St. Patrick’s Day meant sitting in front of the TV watching the parade and trying to spot my dad marching among a sea of blue televised in black and white. Each year I swore I spotted him—but all those handsome police officers looked too much alike.
Spotting my dad on a black and white TV in the midst of blue uniforms was almost impossible–aren’t my parents the cutest couple?
It was much easier just being at the parade and spotting my cousins. Left to right–Patrick Boylan (R.I.P.) NYFD, Wayne Lynch, NYPD, Tommy Gorman, I can’t remember what state he was a cop–but he traveled here for the NYC parade.
Then came the years of participating in the fun and parties when I was young, single and living in New York City. I won’t even go there right now! MEANING–I’m not going to broach the subject of my naughty behavior on St. Paddy’s days past!
I won’t elaborate, but in my younger days, my St. Pat’s celebrations had something to do with the above images!
When the kids were young—really young, I would take them, stroller in tow, to the parade. My favored spot being across St. Patrick’s Cathedral—I figured it would be the safest and holiest place along the parade route—plus if the kids got too cold, we could go into church, light a candle and say a few prayers.
My grandmother eye rolled the “corned beef and cabbage” train of thought because she said slab bacon and a full breakfast was more trad. But she still made the corned beef anyway.
A great start to coat your stomach before the celebrations:Sausage, Blood Pudding, eggs, Irish Bacon, various toasted breads and cooked tomato.,
My fondest St. Pat’s memories were when Oona was dancing. There was always a dance-off or a performance to be had and for us “March Madness” wasn’t about basketball. It was about the dancing, the jigs, the hornpipes, slip jigs and reels. The dancing made people happy—and it was a pleasure to be distracted from competition and take a step back to think about the reason Oona did dance—to never forget her Irish Roots.
Oona back in her DeNogla School of Irish Dance Days. With Meghan Simmons at the Oireachtas and their team medals. With Megan DiBiase, now an Irish Dance teacher and co-director of McGough Academy, at an early feis (competition).
Two of my favorite dresses–Oona at All Irelands in Belfast, 2005 and at a local feis 2007. I still have the gold and black “serpent” dress. It’s nice to have a keepsake!
A nice end to Oona’s dance career. Oona and Megan at the Mid-Atlantic Oireachtas awards ceremony, 2010. It’s been a fun journey!
On St. Paddy’s, I always take a moment to reflect on just how bad the Irish had it when they emigrated here from Ireland. Doors slammed on them. They were treated like animals—living in filthy tenements and looked down upon by those who had “made it”.
The signs were real. The newspaper ads even worse. Read the ad for the Grocery Cart and harness. “No Irish Need Apply”–it was so pathetic!
My own grandmother worked as a domestic when she came here from Ireland, continuing to work hard for her family after my grandfather lost his grocery store during the depression. She was the epitome of a strong Irish woman and I thank her for instilling a pride and wonderful values to the members of our family!
Margaret Crowley Wynne–the coolest lady to rock the boat from Ireland!
Thomas and Margaret Wynne–official wedding portrait. Her head dress is to-die-for! So chic!
The Irish in America have climbed a long way up that ladder to success—and on this day we celebrate you! Sláinte agus táinte! Health and Wealth to you!
On this St. Pat’s, I want to share with you a song my father absolutely loved—he played it over. And over.” Shall My Soul Pass Through Old Ireland”. It tells the story of Terance Mc Swiney who died in prison in 1920 after days of a hunger strike. This is actually a beautiful version of the song–
Earlier today, my girlfriend Cheryl got in touch with me to tell me about a new “French” Bakery in nearby West Chester. La Baguette Magique. Cheryl is well-aware of Monsieur Bonaparte’s search for theperfect a halfway decent baguette in this country. She told me that the bakery was French-owned and seemed like the real deal.
Real French Bread? Right here in Pennsylvania? Oh lalalalalalalala!
I was a bit more than intrigued. I Googled and found some information on their website, but the information was rather vague: La Baguette Magique
Vague information or not, Bonaparte’s love obsession for his beloved baguettes is epic. I’m not kidding. When we are in Paris, he has the bread purchase timed down to the minute. At approximately 5:15 PM he heads out of the apartment, turns left on Rue des Grands Augustins, makes another left on Rue Dauphine and heads up to Rue Bucci to his favorite pâtisserie, Carton.
Bonaparte runs, not walks,down Rue Bucci to seek out his daily bread. He takes the words from “The Lord’s Prayer”, “Give us this day our daily bread” to heart–and to mouth!
The bread is crusty on the outside, chewy on the inside and the subtle saltiness makes it heavenly.
Check the two loaves on the left hand side of the table. Bonaparte already dug into one of the baguettes. He guards that bread like a dog guarding a bone!
And when we are in the South of France, he puts in his order for the evening’s baguette at a small, local epicerie early in the morning. He’s bread-OCD! He even made friends with the proprieters of this little shop who get the bread for him!
Bonaparte’s favorite bread “dealers” in the South of France!
Oh—and because Bonaparte’s accent is heavy, he has me complaining and expressing concern to any local baker who “states” to have genuine French baguettes, but really doesn’t. The bakers at Wegman’s run the other way when they see us!
So you can just imagine how happy and excited I was when Cheryl gave me this news! When I checked the Facebook Page of La Baguette Magique, it was also noted as a *Food & Grocery*Sandwich shop* Bakery*. Bonaparte would be so overcome with joy when I present him with pâté, saucisson, maybe some good cheese, a pissaladière and, of course a Baguette Tradition! This seemed too good to be true!
My idea of French food and groceries include cheeses like this……
Nougat like this (which I can attest was completely delicious!) and….
Breton chips, more cheese, wine, rillettes, pates and other goodies!
I’m not kidding; I was so excited about this that I actually didn’t mind the 35 minute drive into West Chester in search of a decent baguette! With Chippy in tow, and a handful of quarters we were off—we listened to the songs of Serge Gainsbourg on the way—I felt as though I was driving on A-6 through the French countryside as I hugged the twists and turns of Route 29!
Upon arrival into downtown West Chester, it never dawned on me that this shop was so very new that its sign was not even in place! After driving around the block for a while in search of the place, I realized the storefront with Mylar balloons and a menu stand by the door was, in fact, La Baguette Magique!
Why was there not Croque Monsieur and Frites on this menu–after all this IS a French-owned place?
Croque Monseiur, Frites and Salade–a bit of lunch I enjoyed on the outskirts of Paris–THIS is the kind of sandwich I’m talking ’bout!
Now—the USA isn’t France. We are not the dog-friendly people that the Europeans are. Yet. So I left Chippy in the car with windows slightly opened and the promise I would be back shortly.
La Baguette Magique is spacious—in its baking/work area. The seating area wasn’t that large and I’m wondering as the place draws more customers—it’s across the courthouse and in a pretty active part of town, how they will be able to handle the breakfast and/or lunch crowd. To me, the space just didn’t seem well-utilized. For a place that seemingly touts itself for having great breads, groceries, sandwiches, etc., there was hardly any product. I did see cannelles and gâteau au citron, and a couple of jambons. There were a few almond croissants, but no baguettes. I’m not kidding. No baguettes at all.
Little tarts, Cannelles, and tiny gateau au citron–all looking delicious and tempting.
These looked like small flatbreads with ham and maybe onion, but there was no sign. Still, they looked appetizing!
Not. One. Baguette. My first thought was “Wow—this place must have GREAT baguettes if they ran out”. I asked a cute and very pleasant young woman who was commanding the register if there were any baguettes to be had. She explained that the bread would be ready in about 45 minutes. When I asked if there was any saucisson or pâté I received a look as though I was speaking another language. Then I explained how I thought it was also a “Food & Grocery” as shown on their Facebook page. It wasn’t—and that needs to be addressed. Whoever created the page surely needs to take the “grocery” word out of there! No pates. No saucisson. No French specialties.
This is a nice display of artisan breads–but there’s no baguettes! All I wanted was a Baguette Tradition for Bonaparte!
In the meantime, I purchased a Sucre brioche (they didn’t have the regular kind of brioche) and a pain au chocolat. These were purchased for research purpose by the way. I can tell you that both the brioche and pain au chocolat were buttery because my gerd has been with me for the past hour and a half. The brioche was decent, but it was just too sweet for my liking. The pain au chocolat was fine too, but it was just slightly more buttery than Wegman’s supermarket’s same little pastry.
Sweet buttery goodness, the brioche was too sweet. The pain au chocolat was fine. They were both decent, but certainly not earth-shatteringly amazing!
While waiting for the baguette, I decided to do have a little training session with my Chippy. He’s awful on leash. He drags, he barks at men running and men in uniform—and at most men. He sniffs everything in sight. He’s a handful.
Our training session went pretty well. He started dragging so I shortened the leash. He started barking at a couple of runners so I made him “sit”—and “stay”. He ended up with the “Sit” and “Stay” command every three steps.
THAT over with, I went back for the elusive baguette. I’m telling you, I was really, really excited. I was able to overlook the lack of “grocery” and other products because I just knew that a beautifully crusted, chewy, perfectly salted baguette was going to be coming home with me for Bonaparte to enjoy. Who says I’m not a giver!!!
Upon reentering the shop, I didn’t catch the aroma of freshly baked baguettes. When I inquired if the baguettes were ready, I was told that the “ciabattas” would be ready in 5 minutes. No baguettes. NO BAGUETTES!!!
This was not a great first impression. No baguettes. No proprietor—and shouldn’t the proprietor be hanging around when the shop first opens? This is deeply disappointing. When a new business opens the doors, a lot of preparation goes into every detail. I’m sorry, but detail seems to be missing on so many levels here. I’m also surprised because the owner is from France—I’ve never been in a shop throughout my travels in France where every detail was checked and rechecked and made perfect. What gives?
Will I give La Baguette Magique another chance? Yes. I will give it another chance. Saturday would be the perfect day to take a drive into West Chester and reserve a warm baguette—but they are closed on Saturday. Closed on Saturday—who does that??? Maybe on Sunday I’ll call in advance to see if they are selling baguettes go for visit number two. I cannot tell you just how disappointed I am. And it isn’t for me–it’s for Bonaparte. It would be so great to have a store where I can get his rillettes, his favorite pates, his Breton chips and his nougat. Looks like he’ll just have to wait!
Listen, I realize I’m a bit critical in my writing but it’s more constructive criticism. I wanted so much to be able to walk into La Baguette Magique and feel as though I was back in France. I wanted so very much to surprise Bonaparte with goodies that would make him feel as though he was back in his Paris apartment. I wanted him to have a decent baguette in this country instead of having to wait until our annual trip to France. Many bakeries tout their horns to be “genuine” French pâtisseries when they aren’t. There is no reason for this French owned bakery to be anything less. Plus–don’t state that you sell “groceries” when it is obvious you don’t. It’s so frustrating—I just suppose I’ll have to keep baking those goodies myself and keep practicing with the bread! I’ve already promised Bonaparte that I’ll make a nice Omelette Norvegienne for Saturday night–and I’ll post my recipe!
Other goings-on today. Paul Mc Brearty, Contractor extraordinaire, finished the backsplash and chair rail today! If you are in the Philly area and need his contact information, drop me a line! He’s incredible!
Look at that perfect job–and the grout looks fantastic too!
We received a cute letter from Bonaparte’s dad . He mailed it to us from St. Tropez on February 13th. It arrived today–can you believe that????
Even Chippy couldn’t believe the letter took that long to arrive!
Here’s a pick of the downstairs family room with both bookcases. All that’s needed is a small table on the side of the sofa by that blank space!
XOXOXOXOXOX!
In honor of my baguette anxiety–here’s a fun dance song by Tyler Touche “Baguette”!!!!
My dear readers. I’ve welcomed you into my world of imperfection and so it’s only fair for me to be open about all my imperfections! I suffer from anxiety and have from the time I was a child. I’ve had tics and coughs and other little glitches like OCD and they’ve all surfaced from worries and doomed thoughts.
Well, that could be my middle name!
Have I deliberately chosen to have anxiety be a part of my life? Nope! But, anxiety has chosen to snatch onto me like ivy on a stately old home. I’ve learned to live with it. Overall, I’m a happy person and I take things in stride. But there are times when my worries overtake and imprison my body and soul—and even though on the outside, everything seems very well—my spirit aches and becomes broken; all of this due to thoughts that I sometimes have no control over.
Oy! The worry and the stress–it ends–but always comes back to visit!
Here are some examples of the anxiety army that invades me:
I’m a failure and I will never be successful: This is a worry that has recently been festering because I’m still unemployed. In reality—I’m NOT a failure (well, I don’t think I am). I have raised three wonderful children who have grown up to be empathetic, caring, intelligent and successful adults. They are fiercely independent and strong and good people. I have been successful in raising them. What I AM worried about is my track record with work—the past two jobs have left me unemployed because the companies closed the locations. It is not my fault. My work ethic still remains stellar. I’ve been fortunate enough to be asked back on second and third interviews. Why didn’t I get the job? Most likely due to my age or the fact that someone else was a better fit for the position—that is still not my fault. What I love to do is write—and I wish that could be my life’s career. I may not be paid for any of my writings but it is what I love—so therefore I AM a success.
I will lose my home: This is a thought and a worry that keeps me awake at night. When going through my divorce, I did lose my home. It is a life event that I would not wish on my worst enemy. Almost overnight I was forced to find a place to live—not just for me but for the two children who were home with me at the time. The cocoon of comfort and warmth was gone. No more nights filled with the happy noise of teens and music and TV sets and laughing. No more days of friends or neighbors popping in to say hi. Over—with the snap of a finger. When you lose a home and have to find another place to live in an instant—it’s usually not a great place to be in. My children had to deal with that and I can only hope they do not despise me for what they had to suffer in the aftermath.
My present home is my castle. I love it. Monsieur Bonaparte and I made it a warm and welcoming place for family and friends—but I fear that Bonaparte will get sick—or I will get sick—or I will NEVER become employed again and will lose home number 2. Try as I may, I suppress this house anxiety, but every now and then it surfaces and it surfaces in the form of constant worry. The worry is stifling and makes me close up emotionally to those I love. It’s awful and I need to overcome it. If I lose another home, I’ll just move on to home number three!
I am the WORST Parent. EVER: This ties into losing the house. When we lived in the apartment, I had nothing for a while—not even a job. Then I became employed at a job that paid less than minimum wage. I sought the help of Catholic Charities. They turned me down. I sought the help of the government to acquire food stamps to feed my children. Even though I made less than minimum wage, I still made too much money to qualify for food stamps. Sometimes the water was shut off because I was unable to pay my bills. The people at Trenton Water Works knew me by name—how bad is it when the people who shut your water off become your friends? The electricity would be turned off from time to time and we would have pioneer nights of living by candlelight. How could my kids look up to me when I was unable to take care of them?
I cannot pay my daughter’s student loans. I cannot say to my kids—”Hey, I’m paying to take us all on a big family vacation”—lots of my friends do that with their adult kids—and they are able to pay. I feel like a failure because I am unable to do so.
I cannot foot some of the bill for any of my kid’s rents. Living in NYC is expensive. I do know of parents who help out with their kids’ rent bills and/or groceries and other living expenses. I fear my kids hold it against me because I am unable to do so. My fears may be unfounded, but my fears and worries are still with me. I worry about the future because I will be unable to pay for their weddings. Will they hate me for that? Will the person they marry hate me for that? Will that person’s family hate me for that? Honest to god, I’m not lying—these thoughts feed on me like a malignancy. These worries—they suck because they stop me from momentarily being happy. I really have to slap myself upside the head and, like Cher said in “Moonstruck” “Snap out of it!!!!”
Will my Pap, Skin, Mammo be OK? I’ve always been worried about my health. After Mohs surgery for a skin cancer, I’ve been out of control. Not a day goes by when I’m not checking my skin with a magnifying glass or playing around with my breasts. When I get a clean bill of health, I’m fine. For about three days—then the worries start all over again. I had a colonoscopy this past August and polyps were removed. Every time I get an ache in my stomach, I think something went wrong when the polyps were removed and the worry gets worse. I need to stop worrying about things I have no control over but I cannot help it!
Do my sons not call me because they hate me? This is a good one. My daughter Oona and I speak almost every day—to the point if I don’t hear from her I think something awful happened to her then I text her. The mother/daughter relationship is much more open than the son/mother relationship. I need to accept that. My sons just have nothing to say to me. They are busy with their lives. I gave them independence and they use it well. My sons do not hate me. Get over it. (I HOPE they don’t hate me)
I need to know where everyone is at all times because if they don’t let me know I will think the worst: This is another great trigger of angst and anxiety. I need to know what Bonaparte’s schedule is because if he is out with a client and doesn’t make it home because of traffic or other problems I think he is somewhere in the emergency room with a heart attack or someone with road rage shot him and he is slumped over on 422 with a bullet to the head. When my kids go away for the weekend or if they are on their way to visit and they are late, I fear the worst. Did the Bolt bus break down? Did Amtrak derail? WTF is going on with the airlines? (And this is probably why my sons do not call me all the time—I’m a pain in the ass!)
Sometimes people laugh at my worries. That’s fine—it’s far better than being impatient or angry. But the thing is, I’m not alone. There are hundreds of thousands and more people who share these same fears and thoughts that I do. Some go into a deep depression about it. I’m lucky that I’m able to function and still remain pretty much a happy person. Although I despise these anxious thoughts and the palpations and tics that go along with it—I’ve accepted that it’s a part of who I am. Years of therapy haven’t cured this anxiety but have given me a better understanding of it and have given me tools to help get a grip on this issue.
My all-time favorite cartoon by the fantastic Natalie Dee. Does she know me???? She sure does have me pegged! I AM able to jump to the worst conclusion in a single bound–and I’m an optimist as well!
My only request is that others be patient. Please readers; please be patient with your loved ones who suffer from any form of anxiety or depression. Understanding counts. Don’t be short or curt with them. Don’t judge. Don’t feed into their fears by telling them they are “crazy” or “sick” or use any other words that may make them feel worse. My relationship with some of my siblings is non-existent. And it is purely because they just don’t “get” it! And that’s fine—it is what it is. I’m lucky to have Monsieur Bonaparte to come to my emotional rescue when I get all “anxietied out” and by my fears and worries. He is my rock and helps me through my darkness. He’s my 100 watt lightbulb!
So if you know of anyone with anxiety—be nice to them. We, of the anxieties, still love you. We just have a hard time opening up when our worries and fears overtake our being!
Chippy always seems to understand me too! His look says it all!
I have two great recipes for you. Last night I made chicken with morels and chanterelles and dessert was a fantastic Grand Marnier Soufflé recipe. Just for you!!!!! READ ON FOR TWO GREAT RECIPES!
Chicken with Morels and Chanterelles (my version adapted from a recipe from “French, The Secrets of Classing Cooking Made Easy by Carole Clements & Elizabeth Wolf-Cohen)
I purchased this book years ago at the now defunct “Borders” bookstore in New Jersey. it was $6.99 and has proved to be an invaluable book–every recipe I’ve made is excellent. I did adapt this recipe to my own tastes. If you see this book–grab it!
Ingreeds: Dried Morels, Dried Chanterelles (you can get these in packages at the supermarket), 1 cup chicken broth, 1 stick butter, 3 large shallots, peeled and diced, fresh thyme, 1/4 cup cognac, 1 cup heavy cream, 4 skinless boneless chicken breasts, 1 tsp grapeseed oil or any mild oil, 3/4 sparkling wine, rice flour, salt and pepper for seasoning.
Put the dried morels and the chanterelles in a small bowl and cover with water to reconstitute, strain the mushrooms then put them in a saucepan with the chicken broth and bring to a boil. Remove from the heat and set aside to cool.
In the meantime, get a mallet and pound the chicken breasts flat. Cover with cling and refrigerate.
Pound the chicken nice and flat.
Melt half the butter in a skillet over medium heat. Add the shallots and cook till softened, stirring frequently. It’ll take about three minutes. Add the morels and chanterelles and season with salt and pepper.
Add the thyme, cognac and 1/2 of the cream. Reduce heat and simmer until any liquid is evaporated—don’t forget to stir occasionally.
Morels, Chanterelles, cream, thyme, butter, cognac–not only looks great but smells fantastic!
Remove the mushrooms from the pan and set aside. Take the chicken from the fridge and dredge on ONE side in the rice flour.
Spoon a small amount on the unfloured side of the chicken breast and fold the chicken over so that the mushrooms are almost in a pocket.
Melt the remaining butter with the oil in the skillet you used for the morels and chanterelles. Add the chicken and cook on one side for about 5 minutes until the bottom has a crust. Then turn the chicken over with a spatula. Do this carefully so that the mushrooms stay intact. Cook the chicken about two or three more minutes then transfer to a plate.
Morel and Chanterelle-stuffed chicken cooking in the skillet.
Add the remaining cream and cook until the sauce thickens. Add the chicken back to the skillet and simmer for about 3 to 4 minutes.
Plate the chicken with the sauce over it. Serve with rice or pasta. Enjoy!
Chicken topped with Morel and Chanterelle sauce–Jasmine rice on the side is a great dinner.
This is my Weight Watchers version. I didn’t have as much sauce! Maybe I saved–like 5 points!
Grand Marnier Soufflé (Recipe adapted from “My French Kitchen” by Joanne Harris & Fran Warde)
NOTE: This was originally a Kirsch Soufflé but I substituted Grand Marnier and I also added the zest of one orange.
Ingreeds: 2 tablespoons unsalted butter. Plus additional butter for the soufflé dish, 9 tablespoons of sugar, 1/3 cup of all-purpose flour, 2/3 cup milk plus 1/4 cup milk (whole milk), 4 large egg yolks, 1/2 cup Grand Marnier, 7 large egg whites—at room temperature, cream of tartar, confectioner’s sugar.
Preheat the oven to 375
Rub the additional butter inside an 8 inch soufflé dish. Make sure you get the bottom and all the sides coated really well! Add two tablespoons of the sugar and tap it round the inside of the dish, getting the surface covered with the sugar. Set the dish aside.
Souffle dish–all rubbed with butter and sprinkled with sugar sets the tone for the goodness!
Place the flour in a bowl and add 1/4 cup of the milk whisk really well to make a smooth paste—it’ll take a few minutes of elbow grease because you don’t want any lumps.
Whisking really well will ensure a smooth, lump-free paste!
Heat the remaining milk and 7 tablespoons of sugar and two tablespoons of butter in a saucepan. Zest the orange and add the zest to the milk/sugar/butter mixture.
Milk, sugar, butter and zest ready to be heated!
When this comes to a boil, take it off the heat and slowly whisk the flour paste into the mixture. Whisk till complete smooth, return to the heat, and stirring constantly, bring to a boil. When it comes to the boil, take off the heat and add the Grand Marnier and the egg yolks whisk the hell out of it until smooth and set aside.
If you want, you can add a bit more Grand Marnier!
Beat the egg whites—make sure the mixing bowl is clean and clear of any oils so that the eggs whip up nicely. Once the whites are foamy add a couple of pinches of the cream of tartar. Continue beating until the whites become voluminous and form stiff peaks.
Souffle ready for the oven!
Add the Grand Marnier mixture to the whites by folding in until all ingredients are evenly blended. Keep folding—it’s all in the wrist action. And while you are folding, turn the bowl around—I find it makes for more even blending.
On the cookie sheet–as the soufflé bakes, it gets puffier and puffier! It’s fun to see!
Put a cookie sheet into the oven and place the soufflé onto the cookie sheet. Bake for ten minutes then very carefully, open the oven door and sprinkle the confectioner’s sugar onto the top of the soufflé. Close the door gently and bake for another 20 to 25 minutes. Sift some more confectioners’ sugar on top of the soufflé and serve immediately.
The top gets more sweetness with confectioners’ suger!
AS A SIDE NOTE: I also made a crème Anglaise to serve on the side and I sliced oranges very thin. Here’s the crème anglaise recipe:
1 Cup heavy cream, Vanilla extract (to taste), 4 egg yolks (you can use the left over yolks from the soufflé plus another yolk) 1/3 cup granulated sugar.
Heat cream and vanilla in a small heavy saucepan until it gets bubbly at the edges.
While cream is heating, whisk the egg yolks and sugar together until smooth. Then slowly pour a small amount of the hot cream into the yolks whisking constantly, gradually add the yolks into the cream whisking constantly. Continue to cook until thickened. Pour into a bowl and spoon the crème onto the plates in which you will spoon the soufflé onto.
A light, flavorful and wonderfully easy dessert!
Listen to me. I realize this looks like a lot of work—but honestly, it isn’t. Take your time, have all ingreeds at the ready, put on some good music, have a glass of wine and have fun!!!
XOXOXOXOXO!
Anxious? Here’s a great one by Ol’ Blue Eyes Himself! That’s Life! Basically-stuff happens and this is a great song to make you feel good again!
Hope you still read and follow my posts despite my anxiety!
We Bonaparte worked so hard on Thursday night to take everything off the counters and to move the dining room furniture to make way for the installation of the backsplash in the kitchen and the chair rail in the dining room.
Some could see this as a mess–I like to see it as a “Kitchen and Dining Still Life”!
It was actually a pleasure to see the counters so bare, but those bare walls-with my cooking and baking prep, we definitely needed a backsplash that would clean easily.
Prepped for the backsplash!
Yesterday we had the tiles for the backsplash installed and the chair rail in the dining room installed. On Monday, Paul, the contractor will return to grout the tiles and to paint the chair rail. We are both so excited to see the finished project—so far, even without the grout; the backsplash is such a great improvement to the kitchen. Those tiles just give everything depth and give off a more high end vibe.
Subway tiles installed and ready to be grouted. Can you see the slight marbled detail?
Adds so much depth to the kitchen area!
The chair rail also gives the dining are a more “defined” look and seems to separate it more from the living room.
The chair rail will look fantastic painted an enameled white, but I may want to paint the bottom wall red!
It’s certainly going to be a challenge to decide on a paint color for the bottom of the dining area. Although I love neutrals, I think a nice red would look great. Somebody does not agree with me. Can you guess who that is? I would also love nice red Dutch enamel in the kitchen, with white crown molding, but our dark cabinets just make me think that it might not look that great.
Paul Brearly, contractor extarodinaire, was so quick and efficient. What I thought would be an all-day job to install the tiles, was a half day! I was amazed at how clean he left everything too. It was great!!!
Bonaparte is still on the fence, though about having the extra bathroom done. I really want to wait till I get another job. But he really wants to have the job done soon. I guess it’s a 50/50 thing. If we get it done now, at least I’m home and won’t have to take a day or so off from work. Right???? I don’t know. …
Anyway, we went to the Ferguson showroom in King of Prussia. Whoa! Can I just say that this showroom was overwhelming and fed into any delusions I may have had about winning the lottery! I now realize that one can have a million-dollar bathroom retreat. I also realize the importance of hiring an interior designer when if I ever do win a huge lottery! Monsieur Pragmatic led me over to the more—affordable bathroom fixtures. Paul, the contractor, gave us good advice. He said not to get a sink that comes out more than 24 inches from the wall as the room is very small. Bonaparte liked this best. However, I don’t like those shiny chrome faucets or knobs. I like the more funky kind of fixtures—but the ones I saw were ridiculously expensive—and for a guest bathroom that’s small and won’t be used but maybe three or four times a year-it’s crazy to spend a fortune.
The more affordable is what we are looking for! These were what came closest to what we need.
The rest of the afternoon was spent running mundane errands and picking Chippy from his day care. Since he tried to eat the contractor’s leg when he came to give us an estimate, we thought it better that our little “angel” spend the day with his peers. He’ll be at the groomer on Monday afternoon when Paul returns!
Hard to imagine his face wanting to eat people!
Sleep came to me early because I drank wine after our aperitifs. I’m a disgrace to my Irish roots. Seriously. I have no tolerance for any sort of alcoholic beverages. It’s fine if I just have an aperitif or two. It’s fine if I just have wine with dinner and not the aperitif. But if I indulge in both, it’s “lights out” for me.
Lights out came at about 9PM.
Saturday morning! Rainy. Dreary. Bonaparte is with clients this morning till this afternoon. As much as I despise Disney, I was thinking of catching the new “Cinderella” film. (Bonaparte would never see it so I will go by myself.)
Yes. I am NOT a Disney Fan. Can Frozen PLEASE melt into oblivion?
I mean, come on now, Helena Bonham Carter as the Fairy Godmother and Cate Blanchett as the wicked stepmom—this is cinematic greatness! Disney or now, I need to see this.
I realize I’m a Disney hypocrate, but this is Cinderella–it’s all about the shoes!!!!!
But not today. I’m giving myself a completely (and yet another) lazy day!
No makeup whatsoever will touch my face. Today will be my fanaked (face naked) day for the week.
….and the same sweats…but Adam’s blow out is still looking mighty fine!
I decided to gather the makeup brushes and clean them. I fill the bathroom sink with soapy water—the suds coming from shampoo, let them soak for a few minutes (not long as the wooden brushes can rot), scrub the bristles clean then rinse and place on a towel to dry. I’m pretty decent about doing this on regular basis.
Dirty little brushes…………that need a good soak and scrub…..all clean and drying and waiting to get full of makeup again!
Next I decided to clean out my purse. Presently I’m carrying around a Jacrew Bromley bag. Oona got it for me as a Christmas gift a few years back. I love this bag because it has a ton of room to carry my junk around—and I’m not one of those women who changes my bag regularly. For the amount of bags I own, most of them sit on the closet shelf. I’ll carry the same bag around for months at a time!
Jacrew “Bromley”..note the hair claw on the strap. This bag carries a ton of stuff!
Anyway….here’s what I cleaned out. Only to put practically everything back in!
Wide toothed comb. I have one in every purse. A Weight Watchers calculator that I should use all the time. Two packs of tissues because my post nasal drip is so bad.
Three packs of chopsticks. Chapstick, pens, gum, white out tape, clear gloss. MORE gum and the pieces of unwrapped gum–well, I was so lazy, I just popped them in my mouth and started chewing, a stylus change, metal hair clip, satin twirly-do (that is the family name for hair ties.)
What I thought was a pen is a screwdriver–how convenient. A portable magnifier so I can check my skin at any time! A picture of my niece, Isis, that Oona was carrying around for me in HER purse since Thanksgiving. She gave it to me last week. Some members of my family have stopped speaking to me because I suggested my brother change my niece’s name. Why are they angry with me?
My completely disorganized organizer. It takes me five minutes alone just to take it out of my purse to get credit cards, my license………..It looks like George Costanza’s fat wallet!
Notebook from Wythe Hotel in Brooklyn. I love the toile cover! Plastic thingy from a tag. I can assure you I had that on a sweater for years, it started bothering me and I tugged it off–why I put it in my purse I’ll never know!
Lastly, an old Coach wristlet that has been repurposed to use as a change purse–and to hold additional twirly-dos and a camera to use as backup when my phone camera goes on the blink!
Tonight I’ll be making chicken breasts with morels and chanterelle’s and for dessert a Grand Marnier soufflé.
Two mushrooms are better than one!
I have the soufflé recipe from this book. I received it in the mail a few days ago—a gift from my friend Marykay Abblett, a fellow France fanatic AND a chef!
Thanks to Marykay–there are wonderful recipes in this book!
Well, I’m off to binge watch some TV. Maybe “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt” or some Anthony Bourdain. I’ll figure it out!
Should I watch a great sitcom on Netflix–or my favorite bad boy? Tough decision!
In the meantime, here’s a song to describe my day “Lazy Bones”. And oldie my mother used to sing to me when I was younger. She had me pegged! Jonathan King sings! XOXOXOXOXOXOXO!
Today was the day our backsplash was to be installed in the kitchen. “WAS.” We received word late yesterday afternoon that it would have to be pushed back until tomorrow. Why was I so upset? I’ll tell you why. My blow out was scheduled for tomorrow. THANK GOD I found out early enough to re-schedule my hair appointment for this afternoon.
Deep in the bowels of my beauty products, I uncovered my large bottle of Genifique serum by Lancôme. It was a go-to when I was working. But—in order to be more frugal, I’ve stopped using it. Waste not what not. I missed you my friend. I’m thinking that perhaps I need to have my Geni back to revive my face. Besides—it’s actually a good experiment to see if my skin will improve while rediscovering this.
I’ve missed you my friend..we need to hang out again!
I am beginning to show a lot of love for the “It” cosmetics under eye corrector.
It’s turning into a great purchase!
I brush it under my eyes only—but I had an epiphany! If it gets rid of redness and makes my under eyes bright, why not try it on this big age spot I have on my cheek. I did. It worked. Pretty happy with this stuff!
See that nasty age spot above? Ugh. It’s so annoying! Now it’s covered! Good stuff that “It” cosmetics!
When I apply my eye shadow, I like to “stipple” the shadow very lightly in the crease. I think it is a more gentle way of applying the product on “aging” eyes—and works well to layer. Wait! I decided to try filming this-you have to see this video I attempted to make. I tried. I’m not techie savvy enough to figure it out! Anyway, it’s a good laugh.
I forgot to mention, I’m very happy with the brow brush I purchased from It. The brush is so thin and makes applying the brow powder easier than ever!
As soon as I put myself together, I ran Sephora to seek out new liquid foundation. I did mention over the weekend that my MUFE HD foundation has been drying on me lately and looks cakey. I’ve got to find something that smooths, evens out, and does not oxidize. It’s a challenge. Seriously, my skin is looking like crapola. I don’t know whether it’s the stress of my anxiety, or the weather or………or………..or….the actual *Gasp* “AGING” process! (Please God; please let me win the lottery so I can get some face-lift action—Amen!)
With my blow out at 2PM, I left early enough to run some errands and take a look at Home Goods in St. David’s. First stop—Sephora at King of Prussia Mall. Finding a decent and new foundation was going to take a while—or so I thought. Lucky Me—Dina, one of Sephora’s finest make-up artists was on hand today!
If you are ever at Sephora in KOP Mall, I suggest you stop by to see if Dina is working. Makeup expert and artist fantastique! Check out her perfect brows and that great lipstick!
She had helped me in the past and she knows her beauty! I explained about the cakeyness, dryness..blah, blah, blah. She also realized that I have “unusual” skin because my coloring is just so—uneven! Dina picked out two foundations: Hourglass Veil in “1.Ivory” and Givenchy Teint Couture in “3 Elegant Sand”.
Givenchy Teint Couture in “Elegant Sand” and Hourglass Veil makeup in “1 Ivory”. Both were very similar and both went on smoothly!
After cleaning my face, she applied Hourglass Veil Primer with a brush!!
This primer was applied with a brush!!! A BRUSH!!
I was floored because I had never even thought of applying primer with a brush at all! It’s like a light bulb went off! She explained that the primer goes on much more evenly with a brush. Also, Dina has such a light touch; I knew I was in great hands. She applied the Veil foundation on one side of my face and the Givenchy on the other. It was such a close, close call—I let her make the decision. After all, Dina is a pro and I’m not by any means. I ended up purchasing the Givenchy. Not wanting me to go without an application of blush, she applied Tarte Cheek Stain in “Natural Beauty”.
This is a great color–it looks dark but is so light and pink and sheer!
It looks so dark but goes on so nicely—just a flush of pink. I used to have a Tarte Cheek Stain quite some time ago. I swear it lasted almost 5 years—now I think it’s time to revisit and make a future purchase! I forgot how much I liked it!
Dina finished by glossing my lips with Dior’s Crème de Rose Lip Balm. I didn’t make this purchase, but I definitely know it is in my future! It really hydrates and smells so good!
Crème de Rose by Dior. A balm that I’ll definitely be purchasing!
I want to give a shout-out to Sephora and to Dina. Dina went far and above the call of girly-beautyness today. I wasn’t expecting a full-on application of two foundations and to top it off, that pretty blush. But it is so much fun when you need a product and the makeup artist gets it! Dina knew exactly what I needed. She understands the needs of mature skin–she used to do her mom’s makeup all the time! We need more makeup artists like Dina..oh yes, we do! Sephora must really be very selective in hiring artists because, I’ll tell you, Dina could be a makeup artist for a Hollywood movie set! I could have used her to accompany me to make my purchases too! Instead of grabbing the primer, I grabbed the Veil foundation. I ended up going home with the Givenchy and the Hourglass foundations rather than the one foundation and the primer!
Oops! Gotta go back to exchange the Veil Liquid makeup for the primer! That’ll be a fun errand!
The exchange will be just another excuse to get to sit here! The magic spot in Sephora!
Now I get to go back to make an exchange! Thank you Dina for giving me some happy today!
See the Tarte Blush? It really is so nice and soft looking. Here’s an over exposed (sorry) pic of my fact with the foundation–trust me, it looks so great and not cakey AND it did not oxidize!
Next stop was TJ Maxx, and the TJ’s in St. David’s is the best of the lot. I’m on the hunt for a decent cross-body bag. I’m getting tired of carrying around a ton of stuff in a big bag when I’m on vacation. I need to lighten my load, but I’m very particular. Although there was a ton of cross-body’s, I just couldn’t find anything. I almost went with a metallic bag from Nine West. But it went back on the rack because I’m so tired of brand names on items. I’m not doing their advertising. Every stinking bag had a “name”. Jessica Simpson, DKNY, Michael Kors infamous MK logo, Tommy Hilfiger, Ralph Lauren, Nine West. Hey. You guys. You are making millions—the bags should sell themselves without your name on them. Whatever happened to discretion?
Tons of cross-body bags and all with brand names and logos displayed. That’s the only reason I put this really nice metallic bag back on the rack. I like Nine West, but I don’t want a name displayed on my bag!
With a bit more time to kill, Home Goods was next. I love that store. We need a small table for the downstairs family room. Nothing big, just something to basically take up a bit of space while being functional. I found these two tables. I actually had the round table in my cart, but the top was a bit wobbly so I put it back. Monsieur Bonaparte doesn’t like the rectangular one at all, but I really, really like it.
I had this round table ready to purchase but the top was wobbly. I love the rectangular table–Bonaparte doesn’t like it at all. Should I buy it and “sneak” it into the house???
Oh well, we’ll find something. Home Goods also had tons of seasonal items, like Easter-themed table linens, dinner ware, and other table wares. Those items are the sorts of things I would get when the kids were young—but these days, those items just come off as too cutesy for me.
Saving the best for last, that wonderful blow out! It was so relaxing to have my hair washed and blown. If your hair looks great, you feel great.
Clean hair. Nice and fluffy–what a concept!
Oh. And I almost passed out when Adam said “It looks like you are growing hair on the back of your head. What have you been doing?” My heart almost stopped! Dare I tell him that I’m such a lazy slob that I hadn’t washed my hair in two weeks, and not working, my hair is up in a loose bun whenever I’m at home so I cannot touch it? Eh…I sorta told him. I just said I wasn’t putting any miracle products, just what I always use.
The only product I have on to cover my “spot” is the Toppik Adam sprinkled-and it wasn’t a lot either!
As soon as I went home, I grabbed the mirror to look at the back of my head. It may be true; all he did was apply a small sprinkling of Toppik—look! In case you haven’t read it, here’s my post about my hair loss journey: My Hair Lady. The Bald and the Beautiful
Bonaparte saw me looking at my head and noticed the magnifying glass I have sitting on the bathroom’s vanity. He inquired why I would have a magnifying glass in the bathroom as it doesn’t look “right”. I confess-it probably isn’t right, but I do a skin check every day—and I use a magnifying glass to check any tiny spot on my legs. I KNOW. It’s obsessive but I can’t help it.
I only use this to check the “things” on my skin!
It is now in his office.
That’s my day! A lot of nothing and a lot of something! Glad you joined me!
XOXOXO!
Nothing from Nothing does make something—Remember this from Billy Preston? It’s a happy one! And..Preston’s hair is true 70’s greatness!
Oh boy. And a Happy Hump Day to you! Late in the afternoon, the sun is kind of starting to peek out from beneath a ceiling of clouds. It is so great to not have to be bundled up like a swaddled infant for once!
This morning was a busy one—I had another job interview. Moving forward, I will refer to all interview days as “Judgment Day”. Ohhhhhh, I was so “entranced” with watching the Beverly Hills Housewives last night that I forgot to fake tan my legs. You know my aversion to panty hose, but luckily I had an unopened pair of Navy tights. Anyway, I wore a navy pencil skirt, a raspberry Jacrew Tippi Sweater, a great Lilly Pulitzer Murfee infinity scarf –raspberry with little navy frogs; I got it at the warehouse sale for a bargain, my navy Jacrew Schoolboy blazer and finished the look with those pesky navy tights and navy kitten heels.
I’m so sick of wearing black to interviews. I would rather be judged in navy and a bright colored sweater!
I love this Jacrew Tippi, Lilly Pulitzer scarf combo. It’s very bright and happy!
I wore little faux pearl stud earrings. Since my hair is filthy, I was able to manage a nice pulled back hair look. One of my faux nails broke last night, but I remedied that situation by applying a band aid over the finger, making it look like I damaged myself!
The interview went well. Just about two hours of well, so we’ll see what the outcome is. Either way, it’s always good practice for future interviews! I was judged by three very nice and pleasant people—actually, they seemed like the type of people I like to work with and for. Concise and to the point—I love that! So, we’ll see. If nothing comes of it, it was a great experience. It got me out of the house. I had the opportunity to get dressed in office attire. It’s all good! I’m blessed.
Honestly, I don’t know if I was “blessed” because I had another interview or “blessed” because the pencil skirt fit me. Since I’ve been hanging out the past three months in various form of slob attire—i.e. sweats and Old Navy Pajama bottoms, the weight has been slowly creeping up on me.
For the millionth time, I got out my Weight Watchers tracker and Complete Food Companion. No. Really. THIS time it’s happening.
Again. And Again. And Again!
When Bonaparte and I were in Wegman’s he mentioned getting snails to start our upcoming Saturday Night Feast, I put my foot down and gave him a firm “No. I can’t. Do you want me to pull my pants down in the middle of the frozen food aisle to give everyone a peek at why I should not keep gorging?” We did not purchase the snails!
Bonaparte’s schedule was light today, so afterwards we went on a couple of errands.
Can I just say something vent for a minute? We have this little bare “spot” on our lawn near the entrance to our home. In its place was a dead bush so we had it removed. Now, with the snow all but melted, that spot is muddy and swishy. Not a good thing when Chippy traipses through because there is no way he is stepping on my carpeting with that mud. We went to Lowe’s to get some stones or tiny rocks to cover the “spot” (lol—kind of like covering the bald spot on my head. In addition, I have been told that I do have rocks in my head!)
Dear Lowe’s. Please hire more people. Thank you.
We arrived at Lowe’s. There was nobody on the floor—I mean no sales assistants. We walked around, figuring the little stones must be near the outdoor furniture. Nothing—but we did see some nice deck furniture! Now—picture this: their nursery area isn’t completely set up for the spring yet. I get that. However, we decided to venture out into that particular area. We’ve been in the store for about 6 or 7 minutes and could not find even ONE person to assist us.
We’re now out in the nursery. I heard some noise and mentioned to Bonaparte that someone must be around. We walked around until we did, in fact, finally see a Lowe’s employee. He was organizing some planting pots. I approached him and very nicely asked if there was an aisle in which we could find little stones or tiny garden rocks. You would have thought I asked this man for a loan of $50,000.00. The tone of his voice was that “WTF-ee”. Without looking up, and not too pleased, he said “Aisle 6 right side” then continued on.
Granted, I was extremely thankful and said my “thank you”. It was fortunate that he knew where the product was. However, every now and then it is a good gesture to just smile or be a tad more pleasant. Well, I guess coming from his side, he’s probably frustrated because Lowe’s seemingly must not have a large staff. Trust me there was nobody working in that store except a couple of cashiers. That’s sad—especially since so many people are out of work! We did find the little stones, but there were so many to choose from that we couldn’t make our minds up. No purchase!
Next stop was Wegman’s. I’m making soda bread. The contractor who is supposed to come and start our backsplash tomorrow is Irish. I cannot allow someone to work in my home without feeding them. The only thing is that I cannot have caraway seeds. My diverticulitis will act up, so I can only have the soda bread with raisins. I hope he is not disappointed!
Speaking of ailments—my post nasal drip is more like a post nasal tap today. I think I was extremely relaxed during my interview judgment because I was focusing on not having to take out a pile of tissues. Thank you nose!
Since I can’t find my “Joy of Cooking” (I still haven’t unpacked some of my books since the move here), and I use that recipe for my soda bread, so I used Ina Garten’s. Here it is:
I used it because it doesn’t require caraway seeds, BUT, I replaced the currants with raisins because that is what I’ve always used. Plus—she uses orange zest. No. Just No. If you use this recipe, omit the zest.
Soda Bread. Use raisins instead.
Chilled butter into the dry ingredients; beaten egg with buttermilk; mix it all up!
From this, and with a little kneading, to this, and then when the oven is ready–this!
It turned out beautiful, but since its 8 WW points plus for 1/12th of a slice (my size slice is more like 1/6 or 1/4!), I’m passing on this one!
Yum! Isn’t it pretty? Slathered in butter and with a cuppa tea–this is heaven. Too bad it’s too many points!
I was going to clean out my dirty car. Monsieur Bonaparte was being very judgy with me and the state of my car—but then I paused and said to myself “Nah”…I’ll clean it some other time (Shhhhh—what that means is that Bonaparte will get angry beyond judgment and clean my car for me!)
Despite the hat on the floor–and the sign–I haven’t moved it since my last post about my car. Remember that? The music is organized though–see the CD holders? I need to keep my hat in there–what if it rains? The back seat is kind of hairy from Chippy’s shedding..and his shedding lands in that little side thingy for “stuff”. See? I’m just glad someone else besides me is shedding so much!
Well, Chippy deserves a treat for being a good boy. He’ll be good company for the Mob Wives reunion tonight! I can’t wait. I live to judge those women!
He always has that same look when he wants something from me–and I cannot resist! (NOTE: moments after this pic was taken, he went into the garbage. I CAN resist)
Oh. My camera is fixed! I have no idea how it got fixed either but I’m so happy that dopey filter is gone. Now you can see me wrinkles and all-it warms my heart!
XOXOXOXO! Speaking of being judged..Here’s the only fun song about judgment day. I wanna get up and dance whenever I hear it. I hope you do to! NORMAN GREENBAUM! Remember “Spirit in the Sky”?
My mother would be celebrating her 83rd birthday today.
This is still your day!
Alzheimer’s took her. The twisted beauty of this disease is that my mother had no idea her mind and body was deteriorating. She was able to live her last years in a state of eternal bliss and happiness within the confines of her own being. Even though we all knew what the final outcome of this disease would be, the news of her passing still came as a shock.
My mother certainly didn’t have an easy life either. Orphaned at the age of 13, she was passed around to the families of older siblings, and when she talked about this, it always left her very sad and almost always emotionally drained.
She married at 22 and had me, her oldest, at 23 years of age.
At 27 years, pregnant again, this time with one of my brothers. Easter photo with me, my dad, my mom and my sister. I still remember her hat–but look how pretty she is! She and my dad made quite the striking couple–I must say!
Over the span of 13 years, there were five kids to raise-and would have been seven.(My sister Beth Ann died as a newborn and my mother lost a baby in her seventh month). I cannot imagine going through what she suffered—and suffer she did. Our youngest brother, Pete was a definite godsend to the family! She was the main disciplinarian—my dad’s schedule as a NYC Police officer oftentimes left her alone to manage our homework, activities, meals and bedtime rituals. She ran a tight ship and ran it well.
My mother always made sure we were well-taken care of. Our school uniforms were always pleated and creased to perfection. Our shirts always brightly white and freshly pressed (thus my love for ironing to a Zen-like level—ironing is not a chore but a pleasure). Our home was always immaculate—in fact so much so that we were not allowed to enter the house via the front door! To this day, I’ve never had a roast of any kind that could compare to my moms. Seriously—I still dream about her perfectly rare roast beef coming out of the oven with that layer of crispy onions that I couldn’t wait to savor!
One of the earliest memories I have of my mom was in the late 1950’s. I was watching my mother get ready to go out and was absolutely mesmerized by her thick black hair and the way she would take those pin curls out; her locks would fall into a perfect “page boy” with a beautiful wave. Her olive complexion against her white crisp sleeveless blouse made her skin look slightly tanned and the skirt’s fullness showcased a waist that was far smaller before additional pregnancies. She applied her lipstick so carefully and when she was finished she was absolutely beautiful. That early memory is my fondest memory of her.
My worst memory—I must’ve been around nine or ten. And we all have our worst memories! Bitter cold afternoon during the end of January. Homework was completed and I wanted to go outside for a while. My mother said no, it was too cold. I did not let up on wanting to go outside. My mother, in all her festering anger, threw a pair of sneakers at me and told me to put them on—then she grabbed my jacket—and I’ll never forget—the jacket was a white ski jacket. Nylon with red and blue stitching and the hood of the jacket was trimmed in fake fur—she threw the jacket at me and told me to put it on. I did. She opened the side door to the house and threw me out. She told me not to come back in. Well, let me tell you—it was freezing out. I had no socks on, no gloves; the only protection for my head was the hood to the jacket. I tried to get back in the house, but my mother locked all the doors. We had a tool shed in the back of the driveway. I opened the door and entered. When the sun set, it got even colder. I tried to go back into the house. The doors were still locked.
What I did next, was probably either very stupid or very smart—years later, I’m still trying to figure it out. I went to a neighbor’s house and explained what happened. She called my mother and escorted me home. My mother was very cordial, and when that door closed, I got the bejeezus beaten out of me.
Personally it was worth it because I’d rather get the crap kicked out of me than have to remain in that bitter cold. I don’t know if my mother’s actions were just her way of disciplining me or whether I just caused her to snap—as I have always been great at annoying people. But that one incident remains as one of the great mysteries of my life. To this day I still feel bad that I made her that angry! The amazing thing is–none of my brothers or sisters every challenged her the way I did. You would think I learned my lesson–but NOOOOOO, I just kept at it. And I kept getting corporal punishment. Thank God I have a thick skull–LOL!
I also remember an incident that occurred that made me feel so sorry for her that I cried. My dad was a total meat and potatoes man. One Friday night, rather than the usual “Fish Sticks and Spaghtetti” (we Catholics did not eat meat on Fridays in those days), she made ‘”Shrimp Curry”. Now this is back in—what? 1965? 1966? I don’t think any of us had even heard of the word curry. Well, she went to the store, bought a ton of shrimp and cooked this dish. Nobody liked it. I mean nobody!!!! I felt so bad that she went through all that trouble and everyone thought it was atrocious. The look on her face as she cleared the table was heartbreaking. So I told her it wasn’t that bad—and I ate my share. It really wasn’t that bad at all! Next Friday it was back to the fish sticks.
Every child has a unique relationship with their parents—especially daughters with mothers. My relationship with my mother was complicated at times, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t love her. Her actions certainly didn’t’ say she didn’t love me. She had a lot on her plate and had a rough life when she was younger—and she did a stellar job in raising and taking care of us!
Despite our differences, and my constant need to get on her nerves, I thank my mother for giving me good values. I thank her for teaching me to be kind to others, despite any handicaps or challenges they may have. I thank her for teaching me the importance of good manners in social situations. I thank her for giving me a solid work ethic.
My mom and dad with the grandkids. Summer 1991.
With the kids in Florida. 1995
Oona and my mom decorating the tree 1993
What I also thank her for ….
Surprising us with little gifts when she won at Bingo.–
Taking us to “Cookie’s”, the local candy store on Linden Boulevard when we lived in Ozone Park—many fun afternoons were spent at the soda fountain drinking lime rickey’s and coming home with paper dolls.
These Lennon Sisters Paper Dolls a.k.a. “cut-outs, and other little gifts like coloring books were always treasured!
Keeping me in great shape as a child by walking with her to Liberty Avenue to run errands—it was much healthier than taking the bus!
Our trips to Rockaway Beach—convincing my dad, who hated the sand and the beach that we needed the fresh summer air!
Teaching me the importance of toothpick cleaning! (Something passed down from all the women in her family).
Curing an earache by warming up some olive oil on a cotton ball and placing it in your ear—IT WORKS!
Cleaning patent leather with Vaseline.
Out of suppositories? No problem! Cut off a piece of soap and………..( I believe you get the picture)!
Period cramps? A shot of blackberry brandy works wonders. (I was the luckiest girl in high school!)
Baby teething? Dip your finger into a bottle of whiskey and rub finger on the baby’s gums. It’ll sooth the pain. In my personal opinion, this is more organic than the chemicals in the OTC gum soothers.
Best way to rid your white clothing of stains? Clorox and Borax!
Never wear white after Labor Day and before Memorial Day. A rule I still almost follow-my love for white jeans is seasonless—depending on the state of the hemorrhoids.
Typing essays and other written projects for me—and on an old school, non-electric typewriter!!!!!
Never buy pearls for yourself—it’s bad luck. Thus my superstitions only have me purchasing faux pearls.
Always rub Ponds cream into your neck before going to bed. (I should have listened to her—she never suffered from turkey neck).
Iron shirts and cottons when they are damp—the wrinkles are pressed much easier!
Happy Birthday Mom!
Germaine Ursula Gorman Wynne
You were a good woman and I wish I had been less of a pain-in-the-ass!
I hope you remembered me this way–as I hope you remembered everyone in a better way!
In honor of all out mothers, whether they have passed on or if they are still with us, let’s get happy thoughts with a great Beatles song about moms: “Your Mother SHOULD Know!
