Crazies with Straws

My sister is going to change from Patti Murphy (or as I call her P. Murph) to Patti MacMillan come October (I will rename her P. Mac). I went home this weekend and collected an assortment of names and address to contact regarding bridal showers and inappropriate pre-wedding parties for brides to be.

My mom is in serious “clean out the house and prepare for bridal showers/wedding guests” mode. Her famous words as of late are “I’m going to tackle the…(fill in any closet, crawl space, window well you can think of).” I didn’t know that my mom was going to offer the wedding visitors the window wells as a place to rest their heads after the shindig.. 

So when I was home, mama murph “tackled” the upstairs, front hall closet. That is truly the name the Murphy’s give said closet. 

Ie: “mom! Where are you?” “I’m putting towels away in the front hall closet!” “How are you putting towels in the front hall closet? It’s so packed. It hasn’t been cleaned out since you built the house in ’84?!?”

Fascinating stuff. I know. 

Anyways, while mama murph was “tackling” this poor, helpless closet she discovered several buried treasures. One such one being her own wedding veil. Due to the nature of the event she decided to put it on. I found her looking like this. Crazy:

She asked my opinion on several closet treasures that were being set aside for Goodwill depending on my emotional attachments. She did not ask me how crazy she looked in her wedding veil. 

Two bed sheets given to me by my grandma ended up in the “ask Meg about these before giving to charity piles.” They instantly triggered thoughts of illness. Growing up, when I got sick I had the “fun” bed sheets laid out on the family room couch and got to drink soda out of a crazy straw- somehow making sickness more enjoyable.

But now looking at the sheets brought back not-so-enjoyable memories. I opted out on keeping the colorful sheets patterned with Raggedy Anne and Kittens playing with yarn balls. 

Just how these bed sheets were saved for “special?” occasions, crazy straws were also rare finds unless feeling sick. Once, when feeling well, I stumbled upon a crazy straw and got so excited to use it as a healthy child. I put it in my drink and began to drink and drank throw up that had not been removed by the dishwasher due to the craziness of the straw’s design. Needless to say I never drank out of a crazy straw again, healthy or sick.

 

Once done with the closet, mama murph went down to prepare dinner looking like this:

 Crazy.

I hope her next venture is to clean out the kitchen drawers and cabinets to eliminate any crazy straws that may be lurking within. She can keep the crazy. Just not the straws. Because who knows, after the inappropriate pre-wedding festivities and wedding night shindigs, visitors may feel sick…and if they reach for a soda and a crazy straw to feel better, they may feel worse. And if you give a visitor a crazy straw you’re going to have to find an old towel to clean up more messes. And mama murph donated all of those to Goodwill.

Crazy.

I'm Art-i-Choked Up About This Table Art

What is this you ask...?

 

 ...Umm

 

My new obsession. 

How            kitchen            table            appropriate.

 

I'm thinking apples with apple scented candles come fall.

Cooking with Carolyn 101

I was actually nervous. Carolyn was actually nervous too. How funny. Something we both love and want to do more of, we both were nervous to do around each other. Me, because I thought Carolyn would judge how bad I was. Carolyn, because she doubted she could teach me anything new. We were both wrong. And it proves that Carolyn’s first rule (I was wrong about the rules and order of the rules) is true. “Cooking must be fun!!!” 

The rule includes three exclamation points. It does. Really.

And it was fun. And we were both wrong. Carolyn taught me many things and I, well, I wasn’t as amateur as I thought.  Maybe I’m not very experienced, but I understand. That’s the whole thing with cooking; I just need repetition and confidence. And Carolyn was there to give that, with awesome tips along the way.

How did I know that I (somewhat) understood? Because the words that surrounded our cooking lesson without explanation were: 

Reconstitute(d).

Gelatinize.

Coagulate.

Hydrate (okay, that’s kind of self explanatory).

Mince, Chop, Dice, toast…etcetera.

We made mushroom risotto. Oh so good.

It started by toasting Arborio rice. Adding olive oil, salt, pepper, diced onion and minced garlic. Gelatinizing slowly with half cup servings of chick broth & reconstituted fluid from the sun dried tomatoes, porcini & chanterelle mushrooms. Adding those hydrated beauties. Coagulating with Parmesan cheese. Polishing off with truffle oil. And topping with parsley flakes.

It was earthy and rich and tasty.

What were some of the most important things I learned from the lesson?

That functional kitchens and multi-purposeful culinary tools are important. I was mentally making a list of items to put on my wish list. My apartment has no furniture and here I am putting “kitchen tongs” ahead of “couch.”

 

But according to Carolyn: Kitchen tongs (without plastic, possible melting tips), Kitchen scissors (only to be used for food), and wooden spoons (at least two) are invaluable. And rules like “cooking must be fun,” “cooking for friends is always better then cooking for yourself,” “you should have your beverage of choice within arm's reach,” and “follow the recipe at least once, until you make your own” are equally important. 

And I agree. 

And we had so much fun. Cooking for each other. With beers in arms reach. While following a Carolyn memorized/altered recipe. 

And I am so glad I took the nervousness over the never trying. So the rule I am adding to the list is stolen from a Bright Eyes song: “…And your eyes must do some raining if you are ever going to grow…” 

Unless of course you take into consideration another one of Carolyn’s rules-which is, throw the onion in the freezer ten minutes before chopping so the juices freeze enough to prevent the raining.

"You Can Always Order Pizza"

My friend Carolyn invited me over for dinner tonight. Then it turned into just drinks. So I brought over some leftovers and took her beer and we talked on her front porch. It was a really great night for talking and a really great night for porch sitting. Those are two of my favorite things. 

About 2 weeks ago I asked Carolyn to help me become a better cook. This future RD works at Whole Foods and has culinary skills to boot. She also has two rules when it comes to cooking: 

1. Test it out on friends first. Or was it, if you can read, you can follow a recipe? And,

2. You can always order pizza.

...She has only had to order pizza one time. 

A pretty good track record considering she has cleaned out her pantry, in preparation for her move to DC for her dietetic internship, and the items on her kitchen table waiting to be used were:
 

1. Veggiemite aka Marmite aka yeast extract,

2. Bamboo shoots,

3. Dried prunes (which I attacked!),

4. Dry wasabi peas,

5. Enough sauces to suggest she was from a foreign country,

6. Everything else that was unpronounceable or too culinary for my skill level. 

I’m signing up for a Carolyn cooking lesson this week. And I’m sure I will steal more of her beer while I’m there. And with the ingredients listed above, my skills, and my beer stealing-ness…It is very possible that Carolyn may have to repeat her second rule.
 

Becoming Extinct

It’s Saturday. I went to work. I went to work out. And when I came home, it was gone. My roommate moved out. And with her went the coffee pot and some other minor pieces like the couches and chairs and TV/DVD player.

But the coffee pot! Danger for those who surround me! Un-caffeinated Meg is a rare, unfamiliar creature. 

I believe that the microwave is hers as well. I can’t be certain. Maybe it was my sister’s from college? It’s weird having lived in a place for three years, having two different roommates, and having no clue what was mine and what was there’s. It was ours.

If Anna reclaims this microwave and it moves out, I wonder what will happen to my eating habits. I guess they really wouldn’t change all that much except for leftovers. But I’m not sure. It’s something I definitely take for granted. 

I feel like I’m living in a Michael Moore documentary right now. And it matches perfectly with my current job in the not-so-affluent part of town... I guess I can use this as a lesson in understanding and providing alternative cooking methods for my patients. 

But frigid air and an oven-That was neither mine. Nor hers. Rather the apartments. And thank goodness for that. Otherwise there would be an extinct version of Meg.

Circle of Life

It’s Monday and I’m off work. It’s like the day to get your life in order. And order is important for someone who feels transitional and out of control. It’s also important for days that happen to be the anniversary of a quarter century.

I was born 6.20.nineteen86. According to mama murph, my due date was 6.17.nineteen86. I was late-in delivery. and life. My first quarter century was beautiful. I’m jealous of my childhood, long for certain time periods, & feel nostalgic for friends who have touched my life. 

Here I am, thinking about my second quarter century.

This constant urge to live in the moment & plan for the future.To travel the world & to return home.To meet new people & to settle down.

…Late to this feeling I’m sure. Postponed by graduate school. Many of my friends have passed this stage. They’re buying real estate. Getting engaged/married. Getting promotions. I’m still wide open in uncertainty. Half really loving it and half really concerned-but not ready for their stage yet.

This is when exercising helps.

It helps you zone out & think clearly.move quickly while staying in one location.Fills you with adrenaline & exhausts you to relinquish to uncertainty.Connect with a natural force bigger than yourself & feel powerful enough to take on a bigger force.

I took a run/walk in Tower Grove Park. It has been home to runs for the past three years. It will only be home to runs for the next month. There were male and female cardinals flying around together-birds, not STL baseball players. Just got me thinking of floating through life, going wherever the wind takes you & simultaneously triggers the conditioned memory of home and my mother. A lover of cardinals.

There is only one life to explore places, love people, have the career you want and try and bottle them all up into one timespacelocation of a body. Is the word for that spirit?

Sometimes in transitions it’s easy to go from “the world is my oyster” to feeling like road kill. The ups and downs are extremely noticeable. And the job interviewers always ask where you see yourself in 5 years. And you question how much you put into the search and research of jobs. 

So in those moments, I suggest you stay where you are, have your sister & future brother-in-law visit, and go eat the best BBQ (Iron Barley) to feel like you’re living your own life, have family present, & top the food chain.

Cheers to B-Vitamins, Phytochemicals, and Fiber!

I’m almost certain St. Louis was founded on beer. Way back in 1852.

Employees, drinkers, and the beer itself course through the town. Literally. I’m pretty sure it runs underground from AB Brewery to the Busch stadium tappers.

It is clearly an enormous contributing factor to the livelihood of St. Louis. And the livelihood of transplants and visitors. I, for one, have gone to the brewery on three separate occasions. Best part? They give you free beer at the end! And coming from Chicago, it’s evident that drinking laws are much relaxed in the city that thrives on beer sales.

I started appreciating beer when I studied abroad, realizing that it was not all natural light, aka natty lite. (No offense Natty, you certainly served your purpose…when served at house parties)

When I returned home from traveling I was no longer of legal age. What a trick-like when the government played around with the drinking age and certain lucky folks went from legal to illegal back to legal again. I was unable to try craft beer but was summoned to receive a plastic cup filled of natty.

Entering St. Louis at age 22, I took to those beer paved streets.

I learned what a growler was. What craft beer meant. That craft beer represents less than 7% of total US beer sales.

And in 2008 St. Louis learned of Anheuser Busch's plans to join with InBev, making the brand one of the top 5 consumer goods companies in the world.

The St. Louis Beerfest is tomorrow in Forest Park. 21 Breweries (what an appropriate number) and over 60 beers will be available for taste testing. And it’s not even so pretentious as to leave AB/InBev out of the scene.

Beer, in moderation, actually contains a considerable amount of nutrition-even more so than red wine. Cooking up libations with hops and barley provides many B vitamins and heart healthy benefits (American Dietetics Association).  So while taste-testing my way through ‘more than a moderate’ amount of samples I will try to remember that:

1. The more malt in the brew, the more B-vitamins.

2. The more sugar in the wort, the more alcohol.

3. The more hops, the more phytochemicals.

4. “light” beers and “low carb” beers are brewed either to be lower in alcohol, carbohydrates, or both.

5. Darker beers may have more fiber!

And while beer is fat free it doesn’t usually account you from over-consuming calories (excess calories=weight gain). Especially when the good times get rolling and then the dietitians discover that drive thrus at 2am are the best invention. Ever. So although beer (in moderation) aids in improved cholesterol levels, lower incidence of gallstones, decreased risk of type 2 diabetes, and improved cognitive function in older adults (really?), the greater the alcohol intake, those health benefits turn to health hazards. And it’s one slippery slope to using dark beer as a good source of more dietary fiber or for improved cognitive function at that…