There is something that P. Susan always said to me that I think most people are thinking, but wouldn't say. No it wasn't that my hair was messed up or I had a poppy seed in my teeth (although I could count on her for that too). She said that if the food was free, she couldn't afford not to eat it or save it for later. I took this as incredible wisdom and we began putting ourselves on alert for free food.
P. Susan was my friend during a time where I did nothing but work- and by choice. I didn't want to get out of bed, except for work and when home, I ate ravioli out of a can, ramen noodles or a generic bag of chips while watching Seinfeld reruns. I knew P. was doing the same thing at the same time- unless she called me.
She would say something like, "come down to ____________ Gallery."
Me: "P. I can't, I'm already in my PJ's."
P: "Just come down here, it's boring, we need some fun people."
Me: "I'm not fun tonite- I'm tired and don't feel like seeing anyone."
P: "Look, there's free food."
Me: "I'm not in the mood to snack off a cheese plate that's all dried up with grape juice posing as wine."
P: "NO! A brand new Asian restaurant opened up tonight and they have appetizers all the way out the door on the patio! FREE!!!"
Me: "Getting dressed now, be right down."
I would get there and P. Susan had no problem pointing out which appetizers to skip and which ones to double up on. She would wave the waiters by or make them stop for me. I had egg rolls, sushi, salads, and even caviar! We would pig out, talk to some people, watch some people buy some art, listen to a new a band, meet a new client and still make it home in time for the second running of the earlier Seinfeld marathon.
There is definitely something about free food that tastes much better- don't kid yourself. Nothing is free. You have to get out of bed, get dressed and socialize. It's out there and it's not government cheese. Whenever I'm down and think I won't have enough to pay my grocery bill, I remember that I was able to eat free at least once a week when P. reminded me. I haven't gotten to hang out with P in several years now. I miss her and I'm determined to find a free meal soon!
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
Cranberry Juice and Penny
Mom always kept something for us to drink in the fridge other than water. Usually it was Kool Aid and Mom had her own particular way of making it for us. She did not use all of the required sugar, one cup, I think. Instead, she used only about half. I'm sure she wouldn't admit it, but I also believe that she used more than the required water. What that would do to the Kool Aid is make it almost like colored water with a bitter flavor. You got used to it and it was, in fact, better than water. The funny thing is, had you been blindfolded and forced to take a sip, you would not be able to determine which flavor you were sampling!
On Mom's days off, she would set out a glass jug of water with tea bags inside, right under the sun, starting early in the morning. We would enjoy the sun tea later that afternoon and it was a nice treat. Sometimes she made Country Time lemonade. Lots of times, she had apple juice in the refrigerator too. The point is, she very rarely provided us with soda when we were kids- she always tried to keep us hydrated and if we did ever have soda, it was a nice treat. I don't think we ever noticed that there wasn't soda around, but if we were at a birthday party or had some friends over, there would be some soda and it was fun to drink.
I'm not sure when it happened or even why it happened. Someone must have had an infection or a kidney issue or something random and the doctor said, "Get Cranberry Juice." And Mom did. She kept it in the fridge and suddenly my sister, Penny, took to the juice as if it was her lifeline. Instead of waking up and saying she had a bad dream, or had to pee, or couldn't sleep, or wanted to read a book- all of the usual excuses kids come up with- she used to say she wanted her cranberry juice. She had her own particular way of saying it too- "Cran-burrry" and usually didn't even include the "juice" at the end. My sister had very unique facial expressions that made her so cute and so precious, and her face would change as she said cranburrry and you couldn't help but get her a glass.
Eventually Mom was buying cranberry juice on every trip to the grocery. Soon, she got a little smarter and started watering it down. It can be expensive and she drank several glasses of it a day- sometimes Mom would try to convince her to have a glass of water instead and Penny would cry until she got the cranberry juice. "It's good for you, so nothing wrong with that," my parents would say. My brother and I would stare it her in disbelief with our Kool Aid, thinking it was the strangest thing. Penny drank cranberry juice for years. I bet she still does. I wonder if she calls it "Cranburrry" though.
On Mom's days off, she would set out a glass jug of water with tea bags inside, right under the sun, starting early in the morning. We would enjoy the sun tea later that afternoon and it was a nice treat. Sometimes she made Country Time lemonade. Lots of times, she had apple juice in the refrigerator too. The point is, she very rarely provided us with soda when we were kids- she always tried to keep us hydrated and if we did ever have soda, it was a nice treat. I don't think we ever noticed that there wasn't soda around, but if we were at a birthday party or had some friends over, there would be some soda and it was fun to drink.
I'm not sure when it happened or even why it happened. Someone must have had an infection or a kidney issue or something random and the doctor said, "Get Cranberry Juice." And Mom did. She kept it in the fridge and suddenly my sister, Penny, took to the juice as if it was her lifeline. Instead of waking up and saying she had a bad dream, or had to pee, or couldn't sleep, or wanted to read a book- all of the usual excuses kids come up with- she used to say she wanted her cranberry juice. She had her own particular way of saying it too- "Cran-burrry" and usually didn't even include the "juice" at the end. My sister had very unique facial expressions that made her so cute and so precious, and her face would change as she said cranburrry and you couldn't help but get her a glass.
Eventually Mom was buying cranberry juice on every trip to the grocery. Soon, she got a little smarter and started watering it down. It can be expensive and she drank several glasses of it a day- sometimes Mom would try to convince her to have a glass of water instead and Penny would cry until she got the cranberry juice. "It's good for you, so nothing wrong with that," my parents would say. My brother and I would stare it her in disbelief with our Kool Aid, thinking it was the strangest thing. Penny drank cranberry juice for years. I bet she still does. I wonder if she calls it "Cranburrry" though.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Green Chile Chicken Enchilada Stuffed Baked Potatoes and John
When I first met John, 5 years ago, he was working at a little independent restaurant in Albuquerque called Spuds. They specialized in gourmet stuffed baked potatoes that we frequently ordered for lunches at Macy's, which was not too far from Spuds. Sometimes I would take my lunch and drive over to see John and he would have a potato ready for me when I got there so I would have enough time to eat and return to work.
My favorite potato was not really on the Spuds menu, but one that John invented himself. It was the football size potato (which is truly the size of a football- I used to wonder where they got such big potatoes, but now I know their secret). He would fill the potato with butter, sour cream, green chile, chicken and cheese. He would serve this to me with a side of ranch dressing and some extra butter. Of course I could usually only finish half of the potato, so I would save the other half for dinner after driving all the way back home to Santa Fe.
It made the best dinner- I would heat it up in the microwave with my extra butter and then top it with the extra side of ranch dressing I requested. Sometimes I would talk on the phone to John while eating the potato and he couldn't believe I could stomach eating anymore of that potato since I had so much already. But it was delicious and I couldn't resist.
Once John left Spuds to move onto a better job, we kind of forgot the potatoes. Working there was not always a pleasant experience for him and I think he chose to block it out of his mind. Once we had moved to Las Vegas, we remembered how much we loved that Green Chile Chicken Enchilada Stuffed Baked Potato and John started brainstorming on how he could duplicate the secret recipe. He did the shopping while I was at work and I came home to the perfect reproduction.
Since then, he has continued to recreate the experience for me and has never failed to make it taste exactly the same. It always takes me back to when we first met and it is one of my favorite meals.
My favorite potato was not really on the Spuds menu, but one that John invented himself. It was the football size potato (which is truly the size of a football- I used to wonder where they got such big potatoes, but now I know their secret). He would fill the potato with butter, sour cream, green chile, chicken and cheese. He would serve this to me with a side of ranch dressing and some extra butter. Of course I could usually only finish half of the potato, so I would save the other half for dinner after driving all the way back home to Santa Fe.
It made the best dinner- I would heat it up in the microwave with my extra butter and then top it with the extra side of ranch dressing I requested. Sometimes I would talk on the phone to John while eating the potato and he couldn't believe I could stomach eating anymore of that potato since I had so much already. But it was delicious and I couldn't resist.
Once John left Spuds to move onto a better job, we kind of forgot the potatoes. Working there was not always a pleasant experience for him and I think he chose to block it out of his mind. Once we had moved to Las Vegas, we remembered how much we loved that Green Chile Chicken Enchilada Stuffed Baked Potato and John started brainstorming on how he could duplicate the secret recipe. He did the shopping while I was at work and I came home to the perfect reproduction.
Since then, he has continued to recreate the experience for me and has never failed to make it taste exactly the same. It always takes me back to when we first met and it is one of my favorite meals.
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