Beignets - the fantasy, the myth, the food

For 40 years I have had a fantasy about beignets with cafe au lait, made in New Orleans at Cafe du Mode. I am sure this food fantasy came from my parents because aren't parents the root of all dysfunctional behavior? I am also very sure that hearing the word "beignet" started my life-long sickness - Francophilia.

My parents went to New Orleans for their honeymoon in August 1958. That's before refrigerated air, so my parents took their honeymoon in a Louisiana swamp in the summer. (This only begins to explain some of my life choices.) In spite of that, my parents were really impressed with the food and culture of New Orleans and especially the architectural beauty of the French Quarter. So much so that my dad built a back yard patio in the red brick and wrought iron style, including a gas lamp light, that is common in the French Quarter. And Creole and French cooking was something my mother aspired to do all the while I was growing up. So there it is, ingrained in my subconscious, New Orleans has always been to me mythic, romantic and the tastiest of cities. Beignets were "food of the gods" and Cafe du Mode was a slice of heaven within that mythic and romantic city.

So I did it. I went to New Orleans with a lover in June. Creating what I imagined was the absolute perfect back drop, romantic and swamp-like, to experience beignets with cafe au lait at Cafe du Mode. I am sure there were other reasons to go to New Orleans but, eating beingnets were foremost on my mind as I planned our trip. I envisioned eating beignets for breakfast, for dessert after lunch, for dessert after dinner and then of course as a midnight snack. I was sure I would be enamored with my fantasy food and that I would need to go to bed and wake up with the taste of beignets. Normand, who had been to New Orleans, told me to be open for eggs at breakfast and maybe bread pudding, mud pie or bananas foster for dessert. Poo-pooing his suggestions I held tight to my beignet fantasy.

Anyway, for the few people in the world that might not know it (like me), beignets are fried dough, served directly out of the fryer, covered by a mound of powdered sugar and usually accompanied by scalding hot cafe au lait.... the whole bunch <$5. (3 beignets, 1 cup of coffee). That's it. But, I had no idea until they were delivered to me at my corner table in Cafe Du Mode by a sweaty Vietnamese waiter on a romantic and hot summer night that I had been obsessing for 40 years about sugared fry bread.

VOODOO - the art of setting an intention

I am nearly completed with my first full year of graduate school in a profession I artfully, mindfully and wholly embraced. Yes, there are problems on the horizon and yes, there is no perfect job - I get that. However, I didn't run to this job out of fear of "not enough" but, I moved towards this profession/career/job with the idea of helping people to heal.

I have been immersed in a clinical rotation and I have 2 full weeks left. I have learned so much, I have gained so much confidence, I realize I can and will help people overcome their physical challenges and I like being at the job. It is exhausting but, I overall enjoy the job. A great big change.

going about the whole thing all wrong

"We aren't here to make things perfect...We are here to ruin ourselves and to break our hearts and love the wrong people and die." - Cher, from the movie Moonstruck

I really like this sentiment. It perfectly embodies how I feel about my own life path: stumbling along, falling in love with the wrong people and breaking my heart at the things I attempt and fail doing. I must say that I am not sure about the ruining myself - not there yet. But, really for someone who has been caught up in the "perfection infection" it is good to read this sentiment over and over.

Opportunities Missed and then, Taken

Studying anatomy and orthopedics is mostly a solitary pursuit. The time alone gives me time to think and reflect on my life from way back when to now. I am not sure what is harder - trying to cram textbooks of information into my head and remember it or mentally reviewing my past choices and actions. Either way, they seem to happen together.

A couple of years ago I became invested into giving change a chance. Change is hard but not impossible. Seeing opportunities where I can be a better person or acknowledge where I fall down is a radical departure and a big change from the "old Suz".

It was over a candlelight dinner. I was with a man with whom I was crazy in love. That night he said that my love for him inspired him to be a better person. Which to date is the most intimate and amazing thing a man has ever said to me. However, I couldn't say the same thing back to him, not even close. In fact, I felt the exact opposite. I was with the man I considered my "true love" yet I was compromising my integrity just to be near him. So, I smiled and ate another spoonful of chocolate mousse with another sip of wine.

After that rendezvous, he returned home to his wife and kids in California and I went home to my life in New Mexico. Yeah, CRAZY in love. We had been doing this thing for over 5 years and only in that instant did I get clarity. Clarity isn't change it is just an opportunity. And mostly I never missed an opportunity to miss an opportunity.

But, that moment and what he said was seared into my brain (Even today, I remember how the candle flickered and the sea air smelled as it wafted past our dinner table.) and it wasn't going away. I knew in that instant that is exactly how I wanted to feel about my lover. It is exactly the sort of person I wanted to be - better for knowing someone, not worse.

After too much time, rationalizations, high jinx and ultimatums I finally ended things between my lover and I - badly. But, I started things changing and rolling in a good direction for me.

I chose Physical Therapy as a new career because I was tired of feeling like my life was a series of compromises and not clear choices. And I was tired of being in a life that kept asking me to let go of my personal integrity.

I want to wake up every day knowing I will have the opportunity to help someone heal. I will have the opportunity to be a person who someone really will be better for knowing. This is my new definition for "true love".

Becoming another food Blog?

Well it seems I only have a few things in my life to talk about these days: school and food. That is overstating it. Actually, I have one thing I talk about - food. Grad school is too overwhelming to talk about.

Now, I understand gluttony. Pure escape. My mind drifts off to food and cooking while I am in my orthopedics class. I find school very challenging, mostly fun and engaging but, 6 - 8 hours a day every day? Plus all the homework is just a bit too much for someone like me.

For the last 2 weeks I was day dreaming about a lamb ragu dish that I read about in an article in the travel section of the NY Times. It was written by a journalist who traveled to Italy and ate dinner in people's homes. It is part of a cultural education program the Italian government sponsors. Anyway, the photos were making me salivate and I could not get that lamb ragu dish out of my mind.

I really love dating a man who not only loves to eat good food and drink good wine but he also loves to be in the kitchen with me and help prepare it. So this past Sunday Normand and I conjured up some fresh pappardelle pasta, and topped it with a wonderful lamb ragu, some freshly grated parmesano, a dollop of ricotta and a sprinkle of herbs. It was as good or maybe better as I imagined the NY Times dish. Normand matched the meal with a loverly red wine.

Hermitage is Norman's favorite wine region. It's a 331 acre vineyard overlooking the Rhone river above the town of Tain-l'Hermitage. It was a memorable combination - lamb ragu over pappardelle noodles paired with Hermitage wine.

I must be stuck in an Italian fantasy because now I am dreaming of homemade manicotti for next Sunday dinner.....

turning 50 years old

I turned 50 in March (March 8th). It has been "the birthday month" and I have been well-celebrated and I feel much loved.

school electric

School is hard and hard on my ego. What I learn daily is a lot and it is wondrous. But, my teachers are not spectacular which is a huge disappointment. I suppose because I have had so many incredible and spectacular teachers in my yoga and ayurvedic studies that I had hoped this experience would include the same. But, my PT teachers are just "okay".

The environment is stimulating - these days the medical library and the anatomy lab are my two favorite places to be. And, it is so lovely to daily be around such gorgeous young people who are not beaten down by life and who are hopeful and optimistic about the future. These young people really see the world as their oyster. Often I feel like a crusty crone amongst all the exuberant optimism for future careers and jobs these kids have. My forward-looking job expectation is never again be on a 24x7 emergency call schedule or work in a factory. For me that is enough. Nothing like keeping those expectations low.

Last week we played with electricity in our PT lab. Electricity is used to stimulate and recruit muscle fibers - hopefully in a therapeutic way. After we used the NMES units in small groups on arms, legs, shoulders, back muscles to understand the therapeutic effects we then, set up a big circle of the entire class and let the electricity travel through all of us in a circle. It was fun, stimulating and so sweet..... I really do love my PT class of 2012.

Doppleganger

It has been "doppleganger week" on facebook. I am sure there are actresses out there who look like me but, I just couldn't get my head around that comparison. I looked up women that I admire and who inspire me for their spirit of adventure, intelligence and work in social justice and I came up with Amelia Earhardt, Marie Curie, Eleanor Roosevelt, Sojourner Truth and Susan B. Anthony.

I started thinking that I wish I was as smart as Marie or as socially justice oriented as Eleanor, Sojourner and Susan B. But, the truth is that my drive is around experiencing adventure and I just wasn't born with the brains or hearts of these women. So, I am happy resembling Amelia Earhart. Amelia definitely had a spirit of adventure that I admire and she defined herself on her own independent terms (yes!) as an aviator. An unusual profession for women then and now.

This was a really good exercise for me, thinking about women who did something significant besides look gorgeous and pretended being someone significant. I have had so many beautiful moments in my life, some last longer than others, and yet how significant were these moments?Do people remember me because I looked beautiful or because I did a beautiful thing? I hope the later.

PS> BTW people have told me I resembled Ms. Earhart before FB doppleganger week

Christmases Past and Present

Christmas in my family was always a big deal. I should say a BIG DEAL. Big dinners, lots and lots of booze, sweets (generally flaming puddings) and presents. Lots of presents.

My father, a man who was normally pretty low-key and fuss-free for 353 days of the year, whipped the entire family into a frenzy of decorating and festivities during the 12 days of Christmas. Thanksgiving weekend the outside of the house was decorated with colored lights and electric luminaries. As soon as the tree lots opened my dad would be scoping them out looking for just the right one - always getting a douglas fir that filled more than half of the family room. He painstakingly placed way too many lights and ornaments on the tree. Every year my dad managed talking my mom out of stringing garlands on the tree and instead dripping silver tinsel (which she hated) all over the already heavily decorated tree. And every year my mom cursed as the vacuum clearer got clogged with silver tinsel and pine needles promising to everyone within ear shot that next year the tree would have garlands, not this damn tinsel. My dad always made multiple trips to Walgreens to get another box or two of "unique" ornaments to add to the tree. New year's day my dad sadly packed up the Christmas decorations but, he would make sure to date the new ornament boxes and list everyone who celebrated the season with us - including the pets. So that every year the unpacking of decorations was a diary of Christmases past.

Sooooo..... it is with quite a bit of guilt that I say I had a nice quiet Christmas and really enjoyed it. My mom, my nephew and me had Christmas dinner at La Fonda restaurant in Santa Fe.

Dad died about 8 years ago. It doesn't seem that long ago and I manage to miss him more as each year passes. If dad were still around asking me to come to Walgreens and pick out a new box of ornaments or string lights and luminaries or pick out a humongous tree then, I am sure I wouldn't feel the need to have a "nice quiet Christmas".

Thanks dad (Budgie) for the great memories of Christmas past. Love you.

Duck - Three Ways

My excitement for cooking, eating and having dinner parties is shared by my good friend Normand. Over the winter holidays Normand-the-gourmand and I cooked up a memorable meal: Duck, 3 ways.

We started out deciding to making a "simple" French country dinner - something that included onion soup and potatoes but, it morphed under Normand's enthusiasm into a 5 course meal with incredible wine that accompanied the menu.....

Champagne

(the French know how to start a celebration!)

Fois Gras & truffle

~ Sauterne

(duck first way)

Salad with duck sausage and Armonac preserved cherries

~ Pinot Noir

(duck second way)

French onion soup

~ Syrah

(a break from duck)

Sliced duck served on duck fat fried potatoes

~ Burgundy

(duck the third way)

creme caramel ~ Sauterne

We shared the meal between four friends - perfect.

After course five, I passed out. Lucky for me, Normand-the-gormand has a comfortable carpeted floor and lots of water...... ahhhh, over indulgence during the holidays is such a tradition. I am sure this is where those extra 10 pounds of December fat around my belly came from.

What does a girl do with truffles?

My friend Normand called me over the winter break and said:

I am in possession of black truffles from France. Would you like to get together and cook something?

Ahhh yes, can you come over tonight with the truffles? Don't forget the truffles.

I whipped up truffle omlettes and we drank champagne with dinner. I toasted my great fortune to have such a friend as Normand who not only over-nights black truffles from Paris but shares them with me.