cocobunga

chocolate or cheese...

Chocolate or cheese.  If you were told you had to go through life with one, but not the other, which one would you choose?

The other night, I had a discussion with some friends about which one would reign supreme.  I was torn on so many different levels.  Given it was Easter, I was positive chocolate would be the easy answer to that question.  However, given there was wine involved during this debate, I was equally as positive that cheese would be the correct response.

Scientists discovered that chocolate was invented at least 3,100 years ago in Central America and not as the sweet treat people now crave, but as a celebratory beer-like beverage and status symbol.  Wow.  Chocolate beer?  I've had chocolate martinis and green beer but never chocolate beer.   Well, not that I remember anyway.

Regardless of its exact origin, cheese is more than a simple dairy product, it is often the work of skilled artisans and has been, at certain times in history, a status symbol.  So, should I be eating cheese while wearing my Rolex watch, talking on my new iPhone, and driving down the Santa Monica Boulevard in my Lamborghini?  Not that I have any of those things although I do have a Dolce&Gabbana purse (sshhh...does anyone really need to know I bought it a flea market for twenty bucks?)  And, oh, that's right...don't talk on the cell phone while driving, don't talk on the cell phone while driving.  Okay. 

In addition, there are health benefits to both.  Evidence has shown that cocoa and other chocolates may keep high blood pressure down, your blood flowing and your heart healthy.  Albeit, benefits of cheese include relief from hypertension and osteoporosis, while maintaining bone health and dental care.  Hmm...weighing my options here folks.

So, which would you choose?  Chocolate or Cheese?  Chocolate cheesecake - not an option although it sounds to me that it quite possibly may be the perfect food.

meatballs...

Three hundred and eighty five meatballs. Do you think that will be enough?

I am hosting a bridal shower for my sister's daughter tonight.  Okay, Mimi is not my biologically sister but since neither of us have real sisters, we became a sisterhood unto ourselves many, many moons ago.  So, I guess that makes Mia my niece.  Love that!

So, back to the meatballs.  I'm an overcooker.  Not to say I overcook and burn things.  Okay, okay, I can see my five kids reading this thinking really mom?  True confessions - I do burn biscuits every time I cook them because I totally forget about them until I sit down to eat and think what is that burning?  There, happy kids?

Anyway, it's just that the Italian in me always cooks way, way too much food.  Hence, overcooker.  I think it stems from growing up in a house with my Italian grandmother.  Gram always had something cooking on the stove no matter what time of day.  Mmmm.  I can recall the smell her spaghetti sauce right now.  There were times I came home from school to find...uh...the mailman (oops...I mean, letter carrier) sitting at the kitchen table eating a plate of pasta.  It's true.

If anyone sitting at Gram's dinner table didn't have seconds, she would indignantly ask, "What's the matter?  You don't like my cooking?"  Needless to say, when I brought boyfriends home for the first time to eat dinner, Gram would base her opinion of them on whether or not they had seconds...and thirds...and so on.  The more they ate, the better she liked them.  No seconds...that guy was out the door never to be heard of again.  Obviously, Gary made the cut.

So, for tonight, three hundred and eighty five meatballs will hopefully be enough?  I don't know why I always doubt the amount.  I'm pretty sure we'll be eating leftover meatballs for the next week or so.

Yep.  Gram would be so proud. 

saint patrick and the colonel...

Before I tell you what we had for dinner tonight, let me tell you what we didn't have.  We didn't have corned beef and cabbage, bacon and cabbage, ham and cabbage, or irish stew.  How did that happen? 

I guess I could use the excuse that I was raised by Mother Mary and Grandmother Mary, both 100% Italian.  Good excuse?  Nada.  Gram lived to cook.  And clean.  And take care of everyone around her...which by the way is why my roomie in college had to teach me how to do laundry.  Well...that's a whole nother story.

Anyway, Gram looked for any excuse to cook anything and she wanted everybody to eat everything.  During my childhood it was a tradition in our loud kooky Italian family to have corned beef and cabbage for the feast day of Saint Patrick.  Lest us not forget Saint Patrick is in fact a saint and by gosh if the catholic church recognizes him, we will too.  So, how did I forget about this tradition today?

Traditionally I make corned beef and cabbage for Saint Patrick's Day and this year I totally missed the green boat.  Truth is I didn't even realize it until about 4:oo or so when I was sitting at my son's baseball game and another mom mentioned that she hoped her ham and cabbage wasn't overcooked when she gets home.  Oopsy!  Loser again.

Needless to say, it was too late to run to the market, buy a corned beef (assuming there were any still left because everyone else in the world remembered this tradition), buy cabbage, and bring it home to put in the crockpot or even a microwave at that point.  Let's see, there's over 42 billion pounds of beef and about 3 billion pounds of cabbage sold each year and I didn't remember to buy 4 pounds and one head?   Obviously I was missing two heads today.  Could it be that ginkgo thing again?  It wasn't like I didn't have a tip off this morning when everyone I ran into was wearing various shades of green.  Saint Patrick, next year could you just dance a little jig for me and maybe I'll get the hint?

Well, here is what my poor Irish husband and half Irish children ate for dinner tonight...

 

Are you noticing the empty unplugged crockpot in the background?  Yikes!  Oh, yeah, and my husband thought it would be best if the Colonel celebrated the holiday with his authentic Irish jeff cap...

Very funny Gary.  Maybe the crockpot of gold will come tomorrow.  ;) 

fisheye...

Oenophile: a lover or connoisseur of wine.  Hmm...can you be an oenophile without the connoisseur part?  No one would ever describe me as a wine connoisseur and somehow I'm okay with that.  Hubby, please note: I'm not saying I wouldn't be delighted to visit Napa Valley, Andalucía, Loire Valley, or Tuscany during harvest season.  I could pretend I was, in fact, a fine wine cognoscenti while savoring the free wine samplings.  Lord knows I can swirl and sip - I'll keep the quaffing to a minimum - with the best of them and that's definitely on my bucket list.  Okay?

However...I love my box wine.  There I said it.  Yep, call me cheap, call me cheesy.  I don't care.  Now, understand that doesn't mean I love (or even like) all box wines.  Although there may be many brands on the market which are probably (in the words of Larry David from Curb Your Enthusiasm) prett-ay, prett-ay, prett-ay good, there's really just one for me and you can always find it in my fridge.

Ahhh...FishEye Pinot Grigio, made in Soledad, California.  Here in Pennsylvania, you can buy a 3 liter cask for...dun da daaaa...$19.99!  Yes, 3 liters, that's four standard bottles or two magnums of bottled wine!  Love it!  Fortunately, it's what my pocketbook likes as well.  Thank you God.

FishEye makes a very nice Cabernet, Merlot, Shiraz, Chardonnay, Reisling and Sauvignon Blanc as well.  My favorite though is the Pinot Grigio - a spirited and fresh infusion of ripe melon, apricot and white ginger.  Why does this description make me want to go to the beach...like now?

So, there's my tip to you my friends.  Try it, you'll like it!  Another plus to FishEye box wine is the cask keeps air out so it stays fresh in your fridge for up to six weeks.

 

Yea...like that would ever happen. 

oh where oh where have my pistachios gone...

Pistachios.  No, my mouth is not watering yet.  But...if you say "Turkish pistachios", all of a sudden I turn into one of Pavlov's drooling dogs and it's ugly.  It all started when I was a kid and all pistachios sold in America were from Turkey.  Succulent, tender, tasty Turkish pistachios.  Yummy.  Nothing better.  I ate them like it was my job.

In 1976, when I was 16 years old, the California pistachio industry harvested its first commercial crop of pistachios.  Now, don't get me wrong.  'Made in the USA' is certainly something I think about for the benefit of our country.  But I have to draw the line in the sand when it comes to pistachios.  If pistachio growing was an Olympic sport, Turkey would win the gold, USA the silver. 

In all fairness, it's simple.  Turkey just has more experience.  Archaeological evidence in Turkey indicates the pistachio nut was being used for food as early as 7,000 B.C.!

Although California pistachios are large and easier to open, Antep Turkish pistachios are though to be more flavorful by pistachio connoisseurs around the world.  Since they are smaller and not so easy to open, you do have to work a bit harder for each fruit though.  Why is it I tend to love things I have to work for?  Hence, my love for crabs, lobster, shrimp, my children.  Yes, I worked hard to give birth to over 41 pounds of baby, thank you.

So, where have all of the Turkish pistachios gone?  They are not easy to find.  I was in heaven when I ran across them at Whole Foods.  When I went back to purchase more of these delectable beauties, there were two containers I found on the back of the shelf behind the California pistachios.  I went to the customer service counter to see if I could order more and they informed me that they were discontinued.  Ugh!  Well, at least I was happy to have the two containers in my hand.  Or at least I thought I was.  The customer service manager realized they were expired and actually confiscated them from me.  If memory serves me correctly, I think I was laying on top of them on the store floor kicking and screaming and they had to call the National Guard...who obviously sided with our country and tried to talk me into buying the California ones.  It wasn't a pretty sight.

Onward and upward to Trader Joe's.  They carried them as recently as two years ago.  I had to look back in my sent e-mails to see how long ago it actually was to find the scathing e-mail I sent to their home office when they also discontinued them.  Shit.

Sadly now I'm left without my fine flavorful pistachios.  Well, if I was really desperate I could order them on-line.  However, they aren't cheap...such a high price to pay for this prized possession makes it hard on an addict during a recession.  Darn the bad luck.