ms. victoria

I succumbed to the lure of the Swiss Miss. The coffee was late in coming, but has now arrived. Even though we are trying to swear off processed foods, the hot choclate looked better than the burnt acorn soup with non-dairy creamer (how is that not an oxymoron?) that passes for office coffee in these parts.

Thank you for all the well wishes. Pan: I haven't tried looking for sorghum, but that is a wonderful idea. JennyUptown: The floor isn't quite as yellow as it looks in the photo, that would be an improvement on the dingy peach it is in person. I think the appliances are older than the duplex. dlc: I did notice tomatoes at the farmers' market on Saturday. (We went to the smaller one in Franklin. ) I suspect they were hothouse tomatoes as they were too large to be early tomatoes. Hot house ones never taste right to me somehow. bleudauvergne: I grew up in Kingston near Knoxville, so I am not too far afield. This spring has been really lovely. The dogwoods have already bloomed and dropped their blossoms but the irises are in full swing. I did not get around to posting yesterday's early dinner. We finished watching Pride and Prejudice and the time got away from me. As I'm at work, I'll have to wait until this evening to post those. As for breakfast this morning, it was breakfast for the house oversleepers. The boychick had toast with peanut butter and strawberry jelly. I made the bread yesterday in the bread machine. We try not to buy bread very often, though we do splurge occasionally. The bread machine makes decent enough whole wheat sandwich bread. I make more exciting things when I have time to do therapeutic baking. I had a cup of homemade granola (oats, wheat germ, toasted coconut and pecans) and skim milk. I usually have it with plain yogurt, but we're out. Keifel has promised to bring me coffee by work later this morning as I didn't have time to make it or the boychick's lunch. Aside from that I have had three glasses of water and two Benedryl. I suspect I will be in a full-on antihistamine stupor by 9:00, just in time to be loopy for the staff meeting.

Thanks for the empathy on the burn. The toothpaste seems to have worked and I am none the worse for wear. Boychick is exactly as balmagowry suggests, an affectionate diminutive for our son. He's eight, going on 25 We did make it to the Pottery Barn and picked out a lovely new teapot which I will post a picture of later. I also made some pesto which we will have with gemelli for a very late lunch/early dinner when Keifel arises from his afternoon nap. Another supremely lazy day. For the most part I have been reading In the Devil's Garden. Off to go throw some pasta in the water.

And now for Porky's revenge: Breakfast started without a hitch. I am the only coffee drinker in the house, so I use a one-cup drip to make my morning caffeine dose. It works fairly well, except with the lovely cup the boychick made me for Christmas because the mouth is wider than the base on the filter holder and we lost the kettle in the move. That's why I am living dangerously using the saucepan. Sufficiently hyped up on coffee, I proceeded on with breakfast: French toast a la Doris (my mom). As we are pinching our pennies until they scream in anguish, maple syrup of any quality is off the shopping list. I put on my dad's version of homemade pancake syrup (one cup white sugar, one cup brown sugar & one cup water; bring to a boil; lower heat; boil six minutes; add 1 tsp vanilla and 1/2 tsp maple extract with a little corn syrup to keep from crystalizing). At this point, things are going well. I start the French toast, made with eggs we bought yesterday at the farmers' market. While the French toast is sizzling in the pan, Keifel begins the bacon in the microwave. I know, but it keeps the counters cleaner and our hood doesn't work very well at all (we are renting). When he checks the bacon at the first ding, we find the plate in the microwave under the bacon has messily cracked in two. I didn't want to risk another plate, so I offered to fry the bacon in the pan when the French toast was done. Still, things are going fine. Until the very last piece of bacon goes in. The one I drop which then splashes very hot bacon fat on my front. I know the rules about not frying bacon in the nude, I will also add to my new rule book not frying bacon in your very thin pajama pants. I stomp around a bit, burned by the grease (not badly) as much upset from it hurting as my own gracelessness. Keifel sends the boychick upstairs for toothpaste. Apparently, it's a Trini thing. Upon being slathered with minty fresh toothpaste the pain immediately stops and I am fine. Keifel, beautiful human he is, agrees to finish frying the bacon and we sit down to breakfast. With our early morning excitement, we forgot to take a picture of the French toast until halfway through the meal. It was quite good, despite the flying grease and broken plate. We, however, did not make it to church, but after I shower off the toothpaste we are still going to the Pottery Barn to spend the gift card we got as a housewarming present. I broke the teapot in the move as well, so we are going to look for a replacement.

Jensen, it is a little scary, the visa thing, but we did manage it. It just took two and a half years(!).

In real time, I was passed the torch by balmagowry on Thursday, I believe. But with the schedule being off due to Stinger’s truncated blog, I got to ruminate on my fate for a few days. One would think this would give me plenty of time to think of a schedule of events and write a beautiful, sweeping introduction to my food life. One would be wrong. Mr. Victoria, hereafter known as Keifel, and I have been supremely lazy this weekend so far, aside from dragging the boychick, our son, off to the farmer’s market entirely too early for his liking yesterday. However, I will try to give a little background, since I haven’t gotten around to doing a bio post either. I will try to shorten what could be a long story. My husband and I have been married two and half years, but we have only been living together for about two months. We met online four years ago, fell in love, decided to be rational creatures… oh, wait. Did I mention my husband is from Trinidad? And that he didn’t have a resident visa? Well, we fell in love. He got a work visa. He went to London on business. On his return, he discovered his papers were not in order. He was summarily deported in July 2001. Then September 11th happened. His employer withdrew her support of his work visa. We got married in January 2002 and started jumping through all the necessary hoops to get him here and lo and behold, he landed in Nashville in March and we have been disgustingly happy since. How does this apply to the foodblog? Keifel doesn’t have a work permit yet, that hoop is still flaming. So, currently, I have the good fortune to have an amazingly devoted house husband, who drives me to work and the boychick to school and cleans and does a great deal of the cooking. So what goes on at ms. victoria’s over our week together with the foodblog will involve him and he has been kind enough to be both a good sport and help with pictures. I have only been in Nashville since last November and am still learning the lay of the land. I quit my old job as an associate television producer to find my fortune (or at least follow my bliss) as a personal chef and a writer. I’ve applied to the culinary arts program at the local state school and am working as a temp at another university in the area. Until a month ago, I was also waiting tables but the current temp gig pays fairly well and I wanted my weekends back. Generally, things are in flux, but the good kind. We are still kind of hitting our groove in the kitchen. I tend to be a haphazard cook as far as menu planning at home. I cook what I feel like eating or decide at 8 PM to make bread. We are getting more into a routine of sorts and I am learning meat cookery from my dedicated carnivore of a husband. (Until he got here I was either hardcore vegetarian or maybe eating fish, I have fallen off the veggie wagon and into the omnivore sidecar.) For this week, I do have a little bit of a plan. We are going to have a Trini dinner at least one night and a Mexican dinner on Wednesday to honor Cinco de Mayo. Aside from that it will be catch as catch can and I will only be able to post photos from home in the evening. I am now off to the kitchen to make French toast for breakfast before we go to church (UU if anyone is interested) and the Pottery Barn thereafter to shop for a teapot. Our kitchen (a little messy, right after we moved in):

That was a lovely passing of the torch, I am off to go start the new thread. Thank you, Lisa.

I am stuffed with omelette and strawberries but reading your version of the stuffed portobellos made me hungry all over again.

Majra, I have subbed natural peanut butter in all my recipes with no problems. The texture may change a little, but it has never changed it enough to make anything an unqualified disaster. I use Arrowhead Mills organic, but I have used the "grind your own" at the healthfood store. I did find that a little dry, if that makes sense.

Re: giving up hydrogenated oil, it was difficult at the beginning, especially considering we gave up high-fructose corn syrup as well. EVERYTHING has one or the other or both, even tomato sauce But we've got it down pretty well and I seem to have lost the taste for it. As much as I thought I would miss extra-crunchy Jif, it tastes "off" to me now.

What kind of peanut butter are you using? I've always used my Mom's recipe, but when we decided to eschew all things partially hydrogenated we switched to all natural peanut butter. The cookies are more peanut-y and a little crisper. Though it is rare that they live to see morning.

Reading that about your mom and others in your life dying so closely together hit very near to home. Not so many, but my father, my great uncle and my aunt all died within in a year of each other then my mom had to have heart surgery. It's an alien terrain when you feel like death is doing a sun dance around you. I think your prime directive sums up the best coping strategy I found as well. I know the only way my sibs and I got through the day of my mother's surgery was (occasionally dark) humor. Thanks for sharing the potentially embarrassing personal stuff, too; it is making this a rich and varied account and seriously good read.

Victoria has a big red DUH truck moment. THAT Murphy Road. I scare me sometimes. Yes, I do know where that is... we even looked at an apartment over there! I will definitely have to check that out we are maybe four minutes from there.

I too will sing the praises of the stick blender, but the thing in my kitchen that seems like it is always dirty from use are my tongs.

Toliver, I've seen those bottles of vinegar and oil for sale at TJMaxx so often I don't really think of them as a food item so much as a decorative thing.

Monica, again, thank you for sharing this with us and for inspiring those of us just starting on a similar journey. I recently quite my telelvision production job and applied to a culinary program for the fall. After I complete my certificate (most likely next summer), I am hoping to do in-home cooking instruction and food writing full time. I already had people asking about lessons but I felt I needed some credentials before I could take anyone's money.

One of my former coworkers made the same mistake of putting one of those mugs in the microwave. Those of us chatting about the water cooler got a lovely show of blue sparks and flames licking the window on the oven. I am fully convinced older microwaves will last on into the next century. When my father bought the one my mother has, he called her from the appliance place down the road to tell her she could either have a turn table or a digital readout because the ones with both were too expensive. Twenty years later it is still going strong but you have to time anything under two minutes with your watch.

Oh, what I would give for my father's now mother's Galloping Gourmet spurtle from the 1970s. It is a thing of beauty. Dark, dark with use and still going strong. None of my newish wooden spoons and spatulas ever make it to having that patina before they break. I broke the last olive wood spatula I had and have yet to find its equal.

Again, thanks for all the suggestions. I have no idea where Murphy Rd is though... Mapquest to the rescue. I was shocked to learn that Nashville-Davidson is the 21st largest city in the US, and is bigger geographically and population-wise than Atlanta! I will investigate the CSA. I wanted to join the one in Knoxville when we were there but the up front cost was too high and I couldn't find anyone to share it with me (and as it was just my son and I at the time, it was hard to believe we could eat our way through the amount of produce in each box before the next one arrived).

I indirectly worked for/with Brooke Johnson in my last incarnation as an associate producer for an independent production house who did programming for A&E and History. Johnson is a smart and, from what I gather, a well-connected woman. But what Chad says is right, advertisers rule in television. Networks can't afford to produce programs that won't sell to advertisers and are forced to walk a thin line between what gets the network eyeballs and what advertisers think will get enough eyeballs to move their product. It saddens me (and somewhat contributed to me changing my career trajectory) but reality type programming and Top Five kinds of show sell to both advertisers and Nielsen families. It isn't really aimed at people that are passionate about a subject. The History Channel fought hard to move away from its "The Black and White, World War II Channel" image to bring in that target market of 18 to 35 year old males who like to watch things catch fire. Scripps/The Food Network is going after that market, too. That makes me think that the only way you are going to get advertisers to believe that 18-35 year old males would watch serious cooking in prime time is if it's being done by attractive women in the nude, giving The Naked Chef a whole new audience.

I too get miffed if I ruin an expensive meal, but the real hurts come when something in my kitchen gets broken. My knife is a not very expensive one that was a gift from my father when I moved out. I have my father's cutting board that he used to clean fish and that my husband uses for meat and tends lovingly. I also have my father's bar glasses, tumblers embossed with a faux leather and gold design. One of them was a casualty in our last move and I found myself cradling it in the wrapping tissue and wishing fervently there was someway to salvage the shards. Obviously, I agree that it is as much, if not more, sentiment and attachment than expense. If I had untold millions, I still couldn't replace that glass any more than I can replace my dad.

The pictures are coming through fine for me, fine except for the fact that I am insanely jealous of the lovely stores. And your picture of your boat with the dogwood in the foreground was a stark reminder how early spring comes here (Tennessee) compared to locales farther north. The dogwoods are nearly gone already and the irises will most likely be bloomed out by Mother's Day.

Aha. I have been to the farmer's market. I saw K&M. My son goes to school on Nolensville; I just never had time to stop in on the commute and now my husband is taking him. We live near Vandy, off Fairfax. Harris Teeter is quite nice (thanks for the suggestion) and I see signs for Publix but I have no idea where one is. Chef Sean, I had no idea that was even an option. Would I still be a total stranger if I called you? And I have an OT question to ask regarding the culinary program at NSCC. Would it be okay for me to send you a PM?

Yay, Lisa! I am very much looking forward to this week. Your book got me through an awful winter (and not just the weather) in Washington State. I saw it at the library and kept renewing it for weeks.

The little miniature pancakes from drips off the ladle as you bring it from bowl to pan. My son hovers over me when we have pancakes and nearly burns himself trying to get those off the griddle.