Tater tot hot pot

12 01 2009

Our zesty-for-life friend did a 180. She hung up her rave dancing shoes, put away the directions for the quick trip to Hotlanta and moved to Minnesota where she shacked up with her dear man-friend, Doug. On a recent visit to the big apple, she was relaying a popular Midwest table fare called a “hot dish,” and her new family’s ultimate favorite: the Tater Tot Hot Dish.

I couldn’t figure it out. First off, I kept calling it, incorrectly a “tater tot hot pot.” Secondly, I just couldn’t understand Doug’s criticism of my friend “doing it wrong” by getting “fancy” with all kinds of other “exotic” ingredients, … like garlic salt! (???) Third … tater tot topping?!!

So on her next visit to NYC, she came with a house-warming gift. My very own hot pot dish cookbook. Look out! That same day I traveled to Fairway (our fancy grocery store) where my friend steered the grocery cart right past the oh-so-tempting fresh produce section towards the frozen goods.  “Honey, you won’t be needing any of that fresh veg for this dish” she informed me. We landed first at the organic frozen food section. “Nope, you don’t need or-ganic, you need ore-ida.”  And off we went. Frozen peas – check. Frozen green beens (french cut, not to be fancy, but because they lay better in the pan .. like, duh!) – check. And of course, tater tots (extra crispy, or original, my choice).

Later that night, as I top sauteed ground beef with cream of mushroom soup, my head is playing back every new-years-resolution, healthy-eating article I ever read; my father is salivating; my mother is shaking her head in quiet dismay … all that she taught about nutrition, I should know better.

The concoction is layered and bubbling in the oven. I won’t lie, it was fun and it looks scrumptious. How funny that I find myself, Boston-bred, Miami-educated, Europe-cultured and New York City-living .. getting in touch with the roots of my Ohio forefathers.

How will it taste? Stay tuned! My first tater tot hot pot is bubbling in the oven.





A Christmas story in a new economy

10 01 2009

Christmas decorations: packed & away – check. Blog: updated with some memories – check. It seems like only the sales and a few lingering street decorations mark the festivities so recently passed.

Yet despite the dour news of Wall Street, Conrad and I look about our streets with uplifted hearts, still on an emotional high from the year passed and ready to face the year ahead.

As Conrad and I look back upon Christmas 08, we don’t first think of our flight delays, wrapping paper or shopping lines. We think of our Christmas tree. And we think of how we posted it, for free, 7 days before Christmas, on Craig’s List. And how we were touched and surprised – not by the 5 responses that came into our email in about 10 minutes, but the story one woman told that touched our hearts and filled us with a real spirit of Christmas. This year, Jennifer (that was her name) found herself unemployed and in a new apartment in the Bronx with her 9 year old son. Unfortunately, the tree was simply one of the luxuries that had to go. “My son kind of understands, but I know he would love a tree in our new apartment,” she wrote. “I hope to be able to have a tree this year, but if not I will make the best of it.” I called her right away. We talked on the phone and her exuberance was palpable. After confirming babysitting duties with a neighbor, Jennifer was able to make a dash from the Bronx to Harlem, load up our now naked Christmas tree on her car, and return with her husband to their apartment where there son would awake, surprised, to a Christmas tree. She may not realize it, but the tree wasn’t free. Jennifer paid us in kindness, in hope, and in faith. She filled our hearts with her hopes for a better tomorrow and a reminder that we are all an active part of the communities we live in.

When she got home with her tree, she sent us an e-mail:  “In These Times I Trust In God And I Know It Will Always Be O.K.” I sure hope so, and we firmly commit to do our part to try.

Our best wishes to everyone for a happy, healthy and mindful 2009.





Recovering from early retirement

8 01 2009

Ah retirement … the good life.  You may have heard it before, but really, it’s true. We checked.

This Christmas Conrad and I spent two luxuryous weeks in South Florida. You know the weather map they show on the news every morning? We live where it’s blue in the winter … maybe even white. But my parents? They picked that little triangle at the tip of Florida that’s always orange .. maybe even red. Even better, though we had a few work days to put in at the beginning of the trip, the rest of the vacation was what we call in the biz “lids down” – which made it a real retirement experience.

What do retired people do? Exactly what you think. Only it’s not silly, it’s awesome. Hmmm I wonder if Seinfeld’s Florida episodes were an intentional deception method by the government to encourage us to work longer? Because truly, I’m ready. I’ll retire today if I must. Bring it on.

The agenda is worth sharing, just to rub it in… Sundays are Flea Market mornings. So dad, Conrad and I bunded into dad’s new, purple (or what he calls “maroon” and the dealer calls “red”) SUV and got in line with the migrant orange pickers who sell some really good stuff. Everything from collectible glass ware, to fishing poles, to fresh tomatoes, orchids and tomales. The smells and tastes are as fun to take in as the sights. From there it’s a Sunday breakfast on the porch which if we’re lucky features mom’s homemade corn pancakes. That’s right, kids. Corn. If you haven’t had it, you’re missing out.

Dad is also reusing his captain’s license with the national park service now. Which means we get to swarm the national park service boat to Boca Chita and party tropical style. Speaking of partying tropical style, our time also included a trip north to the beaches of South Beach, happy hour raw bar at Monty’s and New Year’s Eve at Morada Bay dancing the night away under a starry sky bordered by palm trees above and sandy beaches below.

Oh, and I shouldn’t forget that Monday’s are bingo night. But don’t underestimate blue-haired bingo. We are NOT talking about 5-in-a-row. Our “youth group” (median age = 31, mind you) wandered in ready to punch our 5 dots (including free space). Conrad was surprised to learn that you couldn’t have any number in any column (no, Conrad, there is no B35), Andy thought you had to get 5 in a row to win. Yikes, we were behind the times. But we were rescued by the wiser members of our table and shown the light of bingo configurations like the Picture Album and the Double Postage stamp).

There was also shuffleboard and hot tub, canoeing in the everglades, fresh strawberry shakes from the farm and Conrad’s fresh and famous guacamole … but alas, I’m no longer retired and there just isn’t time in the day to give full details of the trip. Suffice it to say, if you were there, you hopefully remember highlights of your own … and if you weren’t there, well, we missed you!

Thanks to Momma & Poppa O, the consummate Camp Leaders of Camp Osmon South.





It’s officially Christmas-season in our house

10 12 2008

On Monday, Conrad and I successfully recreated the “When Harry Met Sally” and bought, according to my specifications, the “tallest, skinnist, cheapest tree” the guy on the street could sell us, and carried it home.

Conrad wore a ratty coat and gloves to parade through the city, I dressed in my usual white coat and leather gloves. Hmm, why didn’t he TELL me he wore old clothes on purpose as trees have SAP. Argh.

But anyway, traipse across the park towards home, laden with tree and huge grins, we did.

Our tree is now nestled in his new tree stand and festooned with the fattest, tackiest lights Conrad could find, lights he procured last year when he surprise-decorated our apartment; strings of popcorn garland; the few Christmas ornaments we’ve collected on our travels; and holiday cards from friends and family.

On my walk to work this morning, I passed by 8 burley looking fireman standing outside their station. They were in a hot debate and money was on the line.  “5 dollars per man. How many ornaments do we have?” Yep. They were decorating the firehouse with what looked like antique painted wooden cut-outs – santa and his reindeer, holiday balls, and holly. Fierce.

Christmas is definitely in the air!





Dear lurker,

8 12 2008

You’ve seen me. I know you have, the Web traffic results don’t lie. Yet you’ve never pressed that little comment button to say, “hello.” Please don’t be afraid to come out of the “I read your blog” closet.

After all, if you’re going to harass us about not updating lately, then what’s the big deal about the positive reinforcement when we do?

But don’t worry, Curtis. If you’re not into it, that’s ok. We’ll let you keep lurking around in the safety of anonomity.

:-)

… Oh, and in the spirit of a little NYC news, the boxes are all empty. We had our first out-of-town guest this weekend (yay Mike!) and are hoping to deck our first full-size, live Christmas tree this week. I’ve started stringing the mice food already (I mean the popcorn).

Dave .. you asked for pics, as soon as I can figure out how to embed a video, I’ll add, but in person visits are so much better!!





The bells are singing!

13 11 2008

What *is* that sound? Radio wasn’t on. We don’t have cable. … So up to the window, he made a mad dash. Looked around and threw up the sash.

When what to our wondering ears did resound, but the tintinnabulation of bells making the most beautiful sounds.

It turns out that St Martin’s church, the church on our corner, has a carillon bell tower containing over 40 bells that can (and are) played by a carillonneur.

Thanks to blogger Sense and the City, we now know a little more about this piece of our new neighborhood.

Looking forward to learning more. If we can record the chorus of the bells and post it, we surely will!





Last but not least ..

13 11 2008

We owe you a much more detailed update of all that’s transpired – and photos of the journey – but as I wipe the sleep from my eyes this morning, I thought I would share the great news – at 12:15 am this Thursday morning (Wednesday night), Conrad and I unpacked our LAST box.

Movers coming back today to pick up the boxes (and giving us a $50 credit for getting them back, good work Conrad); Osmon ‘rents arrive closely thereafter for their first inspection of our new digs.

Progress. It’s slow-going and hard-earned, but feels to great seeing it around the bend.








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