1926

So it's been a little bit since I've posted. A lot has gone on and I've been a little busy to post. I have done some cooking though- some successes and yes some failures too. I love both equally. I never thought I'd be the one who utilizes the science in food. I absolutely HATED my food science courses in college and thought that it took the feeling out of cooking, ultimately ruining whatever you are making. I still feel that if you cook without emotion, that you can taste the indifference. Its like eating an unsalted cracker. Sure it will give you physical sustenance but you will not find enjoyment in eating it.

Today I was reading through one of my Nana's old cookbooks that used to sit on her kitchen counter. It was a Better Homes Recipe Book by Marjorie Mills, published by Boston Herald- Traveler in 1926.

My Nana was 6 years old when this was published, making this more than likely her mother's book. Within the book were several clippings from newspapers and a couple magazines. It was pretty interesting to read the excerpts and clippings. Comparing the desires and needs of a housewife then and what is no longer expected of a woman today was pretty funny. The book at one point went into the dietary needs of children- and a staple of their diet back then was a laxative, because children don't poop enough as it is......

 

According to this book, for a child's diet, its neccessary to have a quart of milk or more- so 4 cups of milk or more a day (not horrible) but then add in whole grains, a laxative and "vitalizing" foods. Never really goes into what "vitalizing" foods are exactly but I can only imagine that with all that milk, whole grains and laxatives, kids in the 1920's were gassy little shits.

Naturally, this book was written essentially for the everyday housewife. So it goes into detail with specifics when entertaining. It also gives instructions on how to prepare the perfect cup of coffee for your deserving husband. This page is from the coffee instructions. The best "Don't" listed was "Don't blame the brand for acrid, tannin-like taste when it is the work of your own hands."  So basically, if you're failing at making coffee, don't be a douche and blame the brand of coffee for sucking, because it's your own damn fault for not being able to make a simple pot of coffee. If it were me, I'd just give my husband the 2 bucks and tell him to stop at Dunkie's on his way to work, or invest in a damn keurig because I'll be damned if Folgers is going to get a little sassy with me.

 Then I found these gems. Apparently a Hindu Salad is a basic lettuce salad with tomatoes and celery but just add some watercress- because apparently that's indian and therefore HINDU.

 

 Airy Nothings. I'm assuming these are like meringues but I couldn't tell by the recipe. Something about making a nest- not a well-, baking and then cutting in squares. Maybe something like dehydrated cookies, OH MAYBE ITS THE FIRST ASTRONAUT FOODS!

 

If this is the milkshake of the 1920's, those girls brought no boys to their yard. ITS MADE WITH EGG. Milk, egg, sugar, ice or very cold ingredients and some vanilla. Stick it all in a mason jar and shake like hell. Then top it off with cookie crumbs. Here ya go boys, some vanilla flavored salmonella. 

These were a couple of the clippings I found in the book. I didn't however, find them together in the book. So apparently my nana and mom planned to have some Gatsby ragers. These are several clippings asking for advice on how and what to serve 125 and 200 people. Apparently caned green beans, pineapple and cabbage salad and baked ham, raisin sauce, buttered carrots and peas were the trends. 

Its always a good idea to take a ride back in time. It was especially fun knowing that my Nana not only used this book, but referred to it with her mother. I can see notes left in her handwritting as well as others. Cooking with my Nana was always something I looked forward to and it is something I miss so very much. I wish she were alive to see what I've done with her influence on my culinary aspirations. I like to think she'd be proud with what I've accomplished. Not to mention, she would have been that person to give me my first dollar to hang in The Artisan Rooster. 

Party on Nana. Gastby's got nothing on you and your baked ham.

Therapy or crafting?

So its been stated that I enjoy spending my time creating things. Doesn’t matter if its food, or just something fun to look at. I find it very calming to do something extremely meticulous. It completely clears my mind if I do a daunting task that will result in something I’m proud of. Even if its something dumb as a bulletin board for a dorm hall way- Thank you ResLife. 

My very first bulletin board, unfinished however

My first bulletin board as Head Resident Assistant.

In college, I somehow managed to take up all my possible free time with any and every creative task possible. Again thanks to ResLife, I was able to manifest my greatest crafting accomplishments. Oh you have a team of 25 and you need to create original t shirts for a dodgeball tournament? Sure thing! You only have 30 dollars and you have one night. CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.  Cue one trip to walmart for black paint, red spray paint and white t shirts. Bribe a minion with pizza and jack yourself up with coffee and go at it. VIOLA! Bangin t – shirts. It totally didn’t matter if we absolutely sucked at dodgeball- we looked the best.

We were the "Village Villans"

Around 2 am, I figured spray painting was a good idea.

I spent my summers in college working as an RA for orientation and a program called “Career Explorations”- basically a glorified advertisement for the college where highschool junior and seniors get to spend the weekend in a dorm and try out a class or two. All my job was, was to assign rooms for the orientees and CX kids, occasionally sit desk, and prepare orientation packets. Yup. That’s it. In return I got a scholarship for 2 classes over the summer- which I never used due to them not offering classes for my major. And I also received free room and board.  It was a million times easier just to stay on campus rather than move home then move back to school. Mind you I moved between res halls WAY more than necessary but still, it was all part of “the experience” that was college.

Well the upside- or downside, depending on who you are- to this summer job was having an immense amount of free time. I didn’t want to get a job persay because I liked being available to my staff. I liked being the one that was reliable to cover shifts if someone wanted to go out for the night or needed to pick up another shift. I wasn’t into the clubbing scene and I was lucky enough to have majority of my tuition be covered by scholarships. So Mama Rooster took care of her flock. And crafted….alot.

I have quite a lot of movies. According to my movie inventory app- iCollect movies Pro (probably the greatest app of all time)- I currently have 464 movies. Some say I have a problem, but hey I was better than redbox in my reshall. And when hurricanes hit and we were locked in our dorms for the weekend, believe me EVERYONE loved my movie hoarding.

So when life gets a little stressful for me, I pop in a movie, and get to crafting. I might hang out on Pinterest for a little inspiration, sometimes I’ll just wing it. I’ll do a little sharpie painting here and there- stippling (painting via hundreds of small dots), because I’m OCD and need the meticulous monotony of the process of course. Maybe I’ll work on some bracelets that I’ll never wear, but just have them as an accomplishment. Oh how about some coasters? I rarely drink but when I do, my ice cold beer will NOT leave a ring on any furniture! I rarely gift my crafts though. I get so self conscious about it. Mostly I’ll gift greeting cards I’ve made. Of course I nit pick on them so much I usually have to close my eyes when choosing them. I’ve gifted a vase I made once and every time I’m in that person’s house and see it, I cringe because I want to change things about it.

Who doesn't need mini pallet coasters??

Sharpie stippling "painting"

I "kept" a dorm table and turned it into modpodge heaven

 My mister has been the brunt of my crafting gifts. I find it so hard to shop for him. I crafted an apron and a papier-mâché cowboy hat and fashioned it on a toy dinosaur as an inside joke to him- I mislead him through NYC, over the George Washington Bridge (and its astronomical toll), only to find that the Dinosaur BBQ that I promised him, just didn’t exist. I’m sure it won’t be the last laugh I get in on him involving some crafting.

Well today, I did some dollar store crafting, spending around 8 bucks. I made a fall/Halloween wreath using fake flowers and leaves, some glitter covered pumpkins and a glittered Styrofoam skull that had color changing lights in its eyes. Add in a wire coat hanger, some wire ribbon and shit ton of hot glue, blistered fingers and 1 & ½ movies and Viola! My front door is ready for the non-existent trick or treaters next month.

The dollar store loot- and the beginning of "Music and Lyrics"

Bent a wire coat hanger into a circle then wrapped that shit with masking tape

Using a shit ton of hot glue, I attached those fake flowers

Added the little pumpkins to fill some holes

The bow took me surprisingly no time at all. Hot glued the skull on

With no flash on, you can see the skull's eyes light up

If I were to claim a vice, crafting would be it. Just about everyone that knows me, knows that crafting is more than just a hobby for me, its a way of life. If I'm crafting, I am more than likely working through some sort of dilemma. I rarely drink, hate smoking and never really got into the party scene as a whole. Sure I have a lot of tattos, but I can't spend every paycheck in that tattoo chair. My fingers may blister and I may push through the most epic paper cuts. My back will hate me and my eyes will sting from focusing so long, but believe me, by the time I'm done with whatever project I've taken on, I will come out in a better state of mind, ready to face whatever reality I may have to.

Not to mention, I would totally kick ass on Craft Wars.

Passion in a waterproof cast

Being a girl born between two boys can only go two ways in my eyes: you’re either the princess type or you’re the tomboy.

To say I was the tomboy is putting it pretty lightly. I didn’t even wear girls clothes as whole until sophomore/junior year of highschool. Makeup didn’t come around till senior year. I did however have INSANELY long hair. It was kind of ridiculous. Hacking it all off- for locks for love- was probably the most rewarding thing I’ve done in my life at that point. Not to mention refreshing.

No matter what, this was how I wore my hair 90% of the time. And yes those are plaid pants. Be jealous.

I grew up just like one of the boys. I always had to outdo my brothers somehow- even if they weren’t in on the competition. I broke more bones than both my brothers combined and got more stitches than they ever dreamed of. This all took place before I turned 10. I wasn’t exactly a graceful child. But I’ll be damned if I let a silly little cast stop me from expressing myself.

Mom always likes to tell everyone that when I was given a coloring book and crayons, I was determined to use every single color of crayon I had in every single picture I colored. I can’t deny this. I have always been meticulous about things I create, even if it hinders the jobs of others. Which brings me back to my casts.

In middle school, I was determined to be an equal to the guys and I knew that I could play football just as good as any boy, even if I had absolutely no idea what was going on- I caught the ball and I ran to whatever endzone I figured was the one that lead me to score. That’s all I needed to know. Well in one particular game, I caught the ball funny, and then was tackled. I wasn’t about to drop that ball, or the guys wouldn’t let me play anymore. Well that tackle and weird catch resulted in a pretty nasty break- broke my hand in 5 places and had to have my hand reset. Mom almost fainted watching my hand specialist (I had a specialist for almost every part of my body by then…I wish I was kidding) re-break my hand and put it back together.

Around that time, it was a new thing to have a water proof and/or color cast. Think my super cool doc would give me either/both? Dr. Hanz wasn’t that cool…yes I realize the irony too...Dr. Hanz was my hand doc. SO what did I do? I dug out my box of nail polishes and painted that cast a patchwork that Joseph and his Technicolor dreamcoat would be envious of.   Dr. Hanz removed the cast 2 months later and said that I shoudn’t paint a cast like in case the paint softens the cast. My argument of having a color cast next time went unheard. Well, 2 weeks later- no lie- I was back in his office. I had tripped during a game of indoor tag and smacked my still healing hand on a door frame and broke it in 3 more places. This time I begged for a color cast. Again I was denied the absolute coolest accessory in broken bone fashion.

Since I didn’t want to be yelled at for painting a cast again and I may or may not have had a teeny tiny attitude problem, I went out and bought a shit ton of little plastic fish. All sorts of fish. Even some plastic seaweed and a tiny scuba diver. And I superglued that shit in an epic mural on my arm.

To my surprise, Dr. Hanz did not appreciate my hard work, nor did he admire my artwork. Especially when he had to maneuver his cast saw around the sealife as if he were navigating through the Labyrinth.

The next time I got a cast, it was the most beautiful teal, waterproof cast anyone has ever seen.

Found this guy in my garden yesterday and instantly thought about how he was probably taking a break from some epic battle.

Not going to lie, I had a full conversation, albiet one-sided, with this guy

My creativity didn’t cease with decoration. Mind you I still felt that my life always needed some form of decoration. I had a wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling collage that took me over a year to create in my bedroom. Some pieces were the size of my finger nail. It was quite the accomplishment. Anywho, growing up how I did, I found that self entertainment was a necessity. I read a lot, and I played outside even more. I loved being in the dirt, or in the water. I didn’t really wear shoes unless necessary. Bugs were amazing to me- even today I still flip a rock just to see what’s under it. I would create elaborate stories with the creatures I came across. I fell in love with books that had anything to do with mythical creatures. Anything that involved my imagination, I was game for. Films like the Labyrinth, the Dark Crystal and naturally anything by Disney were all staples for me. I could watch all of them on repeat and never get tired of them. Sometimes my imagination would wear off on others.

My sister Opie and I like to remind each other about the time we “saved the fishies” on Nantasket Beach. We grew up in hull and staying out past dark on the beach wasn’t unheard of. One particular day, we were playing in the muddy sand and would dig a hole, to have the water pool itself in. Well we found that there were little tiny fish swimming in the water and when the mud would settle, the fish would be taken by the mud. We were so concerned that these fish were going to die in the mud, we grabbed our buckets and started digging holes and scooping the fish from the pooled water and throwing them in the ocean. The entire time we were doing these we were singing a made up song “We’re saaaAAAAAAAVVVViing the fishies, we’re HEELLLLPING the fishes!!!!” I can still remember how it goes and everything. We did this well past sundown. We were determined to save those little guys.

Turns out they were sand fleas and they lived in the mud. But hey, who’s to stop some determined kids set out to save a life.

Today my creativity and imagination has manifested itself into a skill set that I’ve gone to college for and have found an insane passion for- the culinary arts. I have such an intimate relationship with food, its hard to describe. I fucking love food. I love how it can change your entire mood. I love how you can manipulate one piece of food into a hundred different dishes and have each dish taste completely different. And salt? Omfg salt is a miracle. Next time you’re cooking, don’t add salt. When you think your dish is finished cooking, taste it. Now add your salt. Taste it again. COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. It’s insane! The science behind food is amazing. Its crazy how components of the same makeup react to each other. Vinegar, made from vegetables like corn. Add a tsp of vinegar to the boiling water you use to blanch vegetables and it will turn certain vegetables different colors, and brighten or darken others. I could go on forever. Don’t even get me started on the flavor profiles and the infinite amount of combinations. Seriously food is amazing. Food provides tradition to take place. It brings people together. It is the centerpiece to holidays, celebration and rituals.

How can anyone not love food? Sure some may say I love food a little too much, but bitch please, I have the body of a goddess and I’ve loved every bite that got me here. 

Bread pudding from my Plated Desserts class

The effects on red and green peppers and cauliflower with different amounts of vinegar

Making vegetable lasagna

A sample platter of an in-house burger I created  at a bagel shop

I cook SOMETHING every day, and I pray that I always have that luxury. Cooking will always be my vice. If I have a shitty day, I know that putting together an elaborate braised chicken dinner will settle my nerves, at least until Mister can talk me out of whatever nonsense I’ve developed in my head.  But for god sake if the radio is on and there are pots, pans, knives, bowls, cutting boards and food everywhere in the kitchen…don’t you dare interrupt me or ask with disgust what I could possibly making. I am having a religious experience. I am communicating with my god in the way I know how to- through my passion.

Me and the Mister at graduation from JWU

So lesson learned, don’t deny a determined, passionate tomboy her teal, waterproof cast. It won’t end easy.

Self pity and peanuts

Life after college isn’t what it’s all cracked up to be. Surprisingly there aren’t a thousand jobs fighting with each other to hire you. Believe me I was just as surprised as you are to learn that people don’t look at your diploma- with high honors mind you- and just throw salary offers at you.  Its baffling.

So after a day of endless job hunting and useless self pity parties, I came to the conclusion that the only solution to my problem at that very moment was simple. I needed some comfort food. Now I’m probably one of the weirdest girls around and I hate chocolate. I think chocolate chip cookies only serve one purpose- to hold ice cream in a perfect ice cream sandwich and brownies are only worthwhile if someone decides to make them “cosmic,” and even then I still have to be bribed to devour one.

I’m pretty sure I’m more broke now than I was in college…if that’s possible. So I am limited as to what to have for some comfort food. Sorry Ben and Jerry, I have to raincheck. So what to make……

I had some peanut butter. And I had some chicken and a box of brown rice noodles I bought on one of my many useless tirades of “getting healthy.” Hmm….yup. pad thai sounds good.

Only problem was….I’ve never made it before.

So here’s my adventure with one of my favorite dishes…Here’s to hoping I don’t screw this one up because lord knows I am in desperate need of that comfort food.

Started off with marinating some chicken boobies. I made a simple peanut sauce as a marinade:

Minced Garlic                         1 tbsp

Ground Ginger                       1 tbsp (fresh would be better but gotta make due)

Peanut Butter                                    1/2 C  

Warm Water                          1/2 C

Soy Sauce                               1 ½ tbsp.

Apple Cider Vinegar                         1 tbsp

Wickles                                   2tbsp (if you don’t know what these are, you should)

Brown Sugar                          1tbsp

Toss all the ingredients in a blender and have at it till its nice and smooth. Pour into a gallon sized zip lock  and toss in 3 chicken breasts. Make sure chicken is completely covered in sauce and leave in the fridge for a few hours- 24 is best.

This stuff just smells amazing. Next, soak some bamboo/wooden skewers in some water- that way they wont burn to a useless crisp when you grill up these saucy chicken strips.

Take the chicken and cut into thin strips- you could do so before the marinade like a smart person, or you could be like me and make more messy work for yourself…..

After I so graciously sliced the already marinated chicken into strips

After you’ve cleaned up your cutting board like a dope, skewer your chicken in a zig zag fashion and leave in the fridge while you prepare the pad thai.

zig-zagged like a pro

3 Chicken boobies gave me about 18 skewers

NEXT! Here’s the cheating part. I looked up a ton of recipes and found that to make authentic pad thai sauce I needed thai fish sauce, tamarind paste and other ingredients my oh-so-empty wallet just couldn’t swing.  Amazingly I had a 5 dollar winning lottery ticket tucked in the pocket of  my wallet just screaming to be cashed in and the change in my middle console of my jeep housed another 4 bucks. 9 dollars here I come.

I managed to find 2 different pad thai sauces, and compared the ingredients, only one having tamarind paste. Figuring that was the best bet, I grabbed that, and a few other ingredients I could add to zazz it up since I knew it would automatically have that weird “I’m fake but you’re going to pretend I’m not” flavor. You know what I’m talking about.

So anywho.  I took my rice noodles, and put them in a big bowl. Poured hot water over them and in ten minutes viola! They were ready. Meanwhile I threw on my chicken skewers on the grill.

While the chicken was grilling away, in a big sauté pan, I sautéed some minced garlic and ginger root in a little olive oil. I scrambled 2 eggs and cooked them quickly in the garlic/ginger oil. Then mixed in the make-due-store-bought-sauce and added a TEENY TINY splash of sesame oil. I added a tbsp. of wickles, lime zest. I noticed the sauce was wicked  thick. So I added about ¾ cup of water and then tossed in the noodles and thoroughly combined everything together.

I don't even remember when I actually bought this...but it paid off tonight!

If there was one thing I learned in culinary school, it was that presentation is everything and every dish deserves a garnish. SO I got my fancy on and chopped up some peanuts and scallions and served up my home made padthai and chicken satay with a lime wedge.

My garnishes all organized in little bowls- all fancy like

I dug in and FUCK YEA my comfort food necessity was met. Fazsha- who is notoriously VERY picky with food, even went back for seconds. Success! 

Comfort food dinner for two!

Also, I have 3 dollars left. Maybe I’ll splurge tomorrow and buy myself a coffee. HA!

Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

We all have to start somewhere, but we don't all have to start at the same line. My beginning was a tad bit unorthodox, but as soon as I started, it went by in a snap.

When I started my journey at Johnson and Wales University, I wasn’t what you’d consider a “traditional” student. If 17 was young, and 30 was old, then at age 23 I was considered middle aged. I chose to go into it full heartedly and live the entire experience- dorm life and all. I was accepted and started off my four year journey with the intention of receiving an associates in science- culinary arts and a bachelors in business management- food service management.

September 2^nd, I packed up my 1999 jeep Cherokee, gave my dad a hug- which was just as a surprise to me as it was to him, and headed to Providence. 

 

All cute and perky in my freshman uniform

Move in day was so very chaotic and confusing. I waited in my jeep in line for 2 hours, until I made it to the front door of my dorm. I was told to unload all my things onto a spot in the parking lot and that volunteers would move all my things to my room- since I was told prior to move in to label everything. I promptly unpacked my jeep, got back in a found a parking spot in Guam and made it back to my dorm about 45 minutes later…only to find out that all my things were sitting in the parking lot still. Great way to start off my year..with a workout. lovely. I mean culinary kids don't eat for a living or anything......

After lugging everything myself to my dorm- which was at the very end of the hall mind you, I learned that I was the first one to move in. I took dibs on the only bed not bunked and started to unpack.

My roomates arrived and I was so ready to be instant friends and share tons of inside jokes and have girly slumber parties everynight and all that jazz. Hahaha man was I sorely disappointed.

I had 2 roommates- one from Brooklyn, one from Jersey. Neither of which spoke much- which was the case literally all year. Somehow I managed to get the room for Hermits. The Brooklyn girl literally never made friends. She ate every meal in the room, and never went out. I invited her to everything I did for the first month but gave up eventually. The jersey girl eventually made friends but not really until 2^nd trimester. Both girls were pastry students- so I really had nothing in common with them, as their programs of study were completely different than mine- including levels of discipline. 

If their personal demeanor wasn’t enough, neither one of them decorated their part of the room. Nothing about their space said that anyone even lived there. It looked like they were there to spend one night and that was it. It was as if they wanted to create their own personal hell.  Meanwhile here I am, 23 years old, covered in tattoos, hanging up posters of pinup girls and Moulin rouge. Ewan McGregor everywhere. I wasn’t about to let their lack of enthusiasm rain on my parade.  

 

We weren't allowed to paint, so posters were mainly our source of decoration....looking back now, I have a million ideas of what I should have done.

I had the luxury of living only 45 minutes from campus, so I was able to unpack then bring home all the empty boxes and containers, giving me space under my bed for a hideaway clubhouse

pushing my desk and dresser together gave me ample space to load even more shit on top. Including my extremely necessary fish tank- something I've always had in my life.

My pin up girls and need to always have Ewan McGregor around has never changed since I was a teenager.

In response, I threw myself into my classes and made friends quickly. It was a little difficult being so much older than most of the students- especially being over 21 and living on a dry campus. But I was never much of a partier so I didn’t suffer that much haha however the constant nagging to buy for people was extremely annoying. 

I hated my academic classes- thought they were a waste of time. But absolutely loved my labs/kitchen courses. I learned so much in such a small amount of time. I couldn’t get enough. I took workshops and attended every extra opportunity to learn something new.

Meatcutting with the dreaded Mr. Fuchs. It was such a stressful course that my best friend made a shirt for me that reads " I survived meatcutting with Mr. Fuchs" and to this day has been one of my greatest accomplishments.

Beer tasting with Mr. Choice. Hands down one of my favorite instructors- one of which fully embraced my lack of grace and took my "bull-in-china-shop" demeanor with such great patience.

Nutrition lab. The course that changed my entire prospective on food and how to utilize its components. Bread pudding and tiramisu duo utilizing the natural sugars of vegetables to sweeten the dish vs cane sugar.

Again, nutrition lab. this was my practical dish. Duck two ways, a saffron infused wild rice, raspberry reduction and an herb greek yogurt sauce.

packing up again...including my classroom hubby.

packed up and ready to move...again.

Spring tri of freshman year I found myself involved in ResLife and became an RA. I stayed on campus over the summer and worked as an RA for orientation- which I did every summer following.

The most amazing staff I had the honor of being a part of.

My experience in ResLife is a whole other story-one of which will be quite the novel to compose.  I built several relationships that mean the world to me, but most of all, my experience at Johnson and Wales not only educated my mind but greatly assisted me in truly finding myself and my passion. Continue to follow along as I share my passion with the world, through The Artisan Rooster.