I am a Machine

Life's not fair.

How many times have we heard that?
Well, life may not fucking have to be but should we humans should try to be fair. Especially to those we care about: our family, our friends.





I do almost all of the house work.

The husband is supposed to do his laundry, our sheets and the bath towels. He also has a list of chores, for lack of a better term.

I made this list per his request over a year ago. It is laid out day by day with about 20 minutes worth of work assigned to each of 5 days with Friday and Saturday free, in case he has to do any cathcing up.
Again, he REQUESTED that I make this list.

Why? Because, I would get annoyed that he would walk by things in the house that needed to be done like 14, 000 times and never notice them. I got tired of having to ask for his help and we thought this would be a helpful way for him to contribute.
Once again, let me reiterate that each days assigned tasks amount to approximately 20 minutes worth of work, at most 30 if you're hung over.

The husband has NEVER once completed the whole list in one week.

Never.

Thus, in addition to doing ALL of the cooking, dishes, all my laundry, the kitchen laundry, the baby's laundry and dog laundry, all the hard cleaning like: ceiling fans, the fridge, vents, the floors, picking up child carnage and sometimes dog carnage, I have to often do shit from his list too.

Why?

Because I'm not white trash and don't want to live in a shit hole.

I do almost all of the grocery shopping.

I make a list, I plan meals, I check for maintanence goods, like toilet paper, filters and the like. I try to do this on a bi-weekly basis. I like going to the grocery store and so does the kid.

The husband goes when he is bored, or wants to distract the child, or desperately needs somehting. And he always overspends by buying some bullshit we don't need, like a $8 guitar magazine.


I make the budget and pay all of the bills.
Except his student loan and I have my doubts that he is getting that paid.

I work less these days so I don't bring in as much money. The promise to me when I got pregnant was that I could spend more time with the baby and work less and that the husband was going to get a raise. It's been 3 years, he just got that raise today.

Thus, I've been scraping and scrimping and stressing over how to pay for stuff and we haven't been able to save a dime because jackass never could find the right moment to press the issue of his raise.



I make sure the dogs' needs are met.
I walk them.
I bathe them.
I take them to the vet. (and budget for that)
I give them all their preventatives.

I run a brick and mortar hospitaltiy business. I do all the ordering, all the scheduling, all the books, and special events. I do all the social media marketing and maintain the website.

I run a pop-up restaruant, we have dinners once a month.

I teach a class at a Culinary school.

I teach my child, I play with her, I feed her and change her and take her to playdates. I got her into the best private school I could (and budgeted for that) did all the visiting, interviewing and paperwork. I take her to the doctor. I cancel MY appointments when something comes up with her.

The husband works 5 days a week plus 1 morning for an hour at his job. He takes over with the child in the evenings when I often have to go to my brick and mortar business. He gives me grief about this.

"That's not like work, that's like hanging out with friends!"

No shit Sherlock, I purposely made my career in something I love. Not my fault that you did not.

I do bitch at him for being lazy, not holding up his end. It does no good. I've begged and pleaded, no good. I've shut up and just been morose, no good.

I ask my female friends about it.
The answer: "Men are just that way and we have to accept that we do more and can multi-task."

Fuck.    That.

I don't HAVE to accept shit.

The fact is, that I am commited to giving this marriage my best. But there will come a day of reckoning. A day when I will be utterly fed up. If it continues this way, there will come a day when I realize that my best is just not good enough for this kind of bullshit.

He whines about how I'm not very affectionate and he wants more closeness.
Well Sunshine, slavery is exhausting and there just isn't much left at the end of a day of picking up your fucking slack.

I hear other bitches who's husbands make a ton more money and have NO out of the home commitments moaning over all the "work they do."

Shut the fuck up.



Yes, children and the house ARE work but until you add an 8 day a week career on top of it with a budget so tight it squeaks, you may not moan.



So, back to fair. Is my life with my husband fair?
Hell no.
But you know what they say about life?
I guess it's a good thing machines don't have feelings.

Having a Kid has made me a better Chef

I never really thought about what having a kid was like. 

I never thought I was going to have one. 

I remember contemplating things like child birth but not the actual raising of another human. I felt I was making the responsible choice to not have a kid. I was a workaholic. I was extra spontaneous. I like to drink and curse and travel when ever I wanted. My own family was pretty fucking dysfunctional. I didn't have a lot of stable relationships.

These were all great reasons to not have a child.

Then, while barely married to my husband, we had had massive problems over the last year and were technically separated, I made the oh-so-Chardonnay-influenced dumb ass decision to NOT be protected one night. Fact was, he HAD been better lately, and we WERE getting along. Though many of my belongings were at another place, I was spending 4 nights a week with him. 

And besides, you can't get pregnant ONE time, right? 

What was I like 15? 

Not exactly.

Anyway, there you have it. Decisions were made and this little person became...

I truly did not understand what this meant.

I was WRONG (take a picture, I don't say that often) about how much time, effort, emotion and energy this little human was going to require from me. 

                                     

So wrong.

In my delusion when I was pregnant, I thought I would be able to just pick up where I was before she was born and do my work. I now know why mothers back then would chuckle with a knowing smile.

Now, I am not going to use this post to whine about how tired I was, and how drained, and maybe slightly depressed and usually un-showered. 

I am going to tell you how it made me a better chef.

I have always been a whirlwind, especailly in the kitchen. I could tear up a 5 course meal for 8 in nothing flat. I could throw down tapas for 50 like it was child's play. I could crank out crepes like my name was Pierre. However, because of my shear force of energy and the fact that I was only responsible for myself and maybe one Sous Chef, I had bad habits.

With a little, delicate thing around that spends a ton of time on the floor, puts everything in its mouth, needs to be fed, changed, hugged and taught things, doesn't always nap like you want and generally picks the worst time to melt down, these habits HAD to change.

Having a kid has made me a cleaner chef.

Look, I was always careful about health concerns but I'll admit, I liked creating a mess in the kitchen. Spilled flour down the front? Sure. Splash tomato sauce on the floor, drop herbs, slop batter, oil on my shoes? You bet. You clean as you go but the floor is kind of a free for all until the end. 

Not anymore.

Now I'm conscious of the little one that will be on that gross floor. I make sure the trash lid is securely down and that ALL of my food trash makes it into the can. NO SLOPPING chicken juice on the floor.  

I wash my hands constantly, because I never know when I am going to have to grab her with her sensitive skin and change her, or keep her Fromm coloring on the walls instead ofher paper, removing her shoes...etc.

I wipe the fronts of the cabinets, the prep tables, the fridges, everything multiple times while working, rather than just at the end.

I clean behind stuff.

                               

Having a kid has made it imperative that I always plan ahead.

Like I said, bad habits. But before child, I often liked to fly by the seat of my pants on some events. I mean, hey, the shit came out mostly, really good and people usually had enough wine that they didn't care...

But now, ah hell no!

Now, I fly by the seat of HER pants.

I research.

I plan out the menu to the garnish, with back ups just in case.

I make production sheets in order of time and plan to make things that can be done ahead...well, AHEAD.

I make lists for packing the truck. I make day-of production sheets and execution sheets.

I build in time to pack things up.

It truly has taken my product from "mostly really good" to badass. 

And with no freaking out.

Having a kid has made me devoted to Mise en place.

I have my stuff so set in my kitchen, so well thought out, that I could cook int he dark.

Seriously.

Before starting anything I get all my prep down and with each dish lay out all my ingredients in the proper order and amounts.

Everything goes back to its "spot." 

It is a beautiful thing and makes cooking infinitely more pleasant and smooth.

Especially when you get your crunch time in 20 minute spurts of "Yo Gabba Gabba and coloring.

Having a child has made me a genius at improvisation in the kitchen.

Nothing is less predictible than a kid. In fact, they fuck with you by napping 2 hours at 1pm for a week only to go insane and refuse to nap the day you are prepping for a cocktail party for 40.

Not only that but the pot/spatula/plastic bowl that held her attention for an hour everyday this week is now tossed aside like milky oysters. 

Improvise. 

Between Mommy Brain fucking making you forget shit, the scramble to entertain the offspring, her jacked up nap schedule and the stove/oven/mixer, you are bound to fuck some shit up. When you do, be ready to make something else work, QUICK! 

From forgetting to thaw out the meat to not purchasing the special herb, I have screwed myself enough times to have forced myself to be a master at making shit up.

Just like cooking from a mystery basket, improvising on the fly, because life (especially with a kid) is unpredictable, makes you a more creative, more focused chef.

 Having a child has made me learn to laugh at my chef fails.

BC (before child) I used to rage, and then brood and stew over screwing up. I didn't fuck up often but when I did I was livid and often petty. Sometimes I would blame others, or the vendors, or the client. Ultimately however, I was just really terrible at admitting when I was wrong or when I had fucked up.

Now AC (after child) I find I can take a step back and acknowledge my failures. 

Just the other day I was making fried chicken for an event. It was a social thing, not a hired thing, but still, I am always a chef. So it's time to change the oil. I take the cast iron to the sink, dump the oil and am going to run hot water in the pan. I SHOULD remove my right hand from the pot's handle, THEN turn on water with the left. 

*Note: "SHOULD." 

Major 3rd degree steam burns on my fingers. Ouch.

And STUPID STUPID STUPID.

In all this debacle, I didn't keep up with the time on that batch of chicken. Later when my husband and another guest were biting into it some pieces they weren't cooked all the way through.

Major chef fail.

Not to mention the burns made me look like I had leprosy. But there was no point in raging. It was all too absurd and all I could to do was apologize and start laughing. 

Having a child makes you realize that there are much more important things to fuck up.

Like another little human who relies on you to teach her how to be a productive, honorable, responsible member of the planet.

Throwing fucking fits and blaming others when you screw up is obviously not the best example. 

But more than that, so what? 

Even I, Queen of Perfection, screw the pooch once in a while, it's part of life. 

And, it ALWAYS works out better when you can just cop to it. 

"Yep, I royally fucked up. Haha, that was a spectacular disaster. What can I do to make up for it?"

Clients often seem to respond better when you can laugh at yourself rather than rage, friends and family ALWAYS do.

It's amazing all of the ways I've improved as a chef amid the chaos of AC life. Oh and I've got this new, ridiculously cute sous chef in a dish towel apron "assisting" me in the kitchen by banging on metal bowls with a wooden spoon and randomly handing me funnels.

                                         

Quick Fix

The other day this woman walked into a wine bar. She was wound so tight she seemed to make a "spring" sound when she walked. She asks the bartender to help her pick out a "red wine I will like because my doctor says I need to drink red wine because it is good for my heart. I just don't really like red wine."

My friend and I are seated behind this woman, we look at each other and roll our eyes.

While the bartender does a graceful job of discussing this woman's needs and tastes with her,  I am thinking of the bullshit she's been fed, the idea that one glass of red wine per night is a magical quick fix for all that ails you.

The woman is trying some wines and asks the bartender, "So what is it about red wine that is so good for me?"
To which the superbly tactful bartender replied, "Hmmm....chilling out and having a glass of wine?"

My friend and I nearly spit OUR wine all over, I love fucking funny service people!

By the way, her reply was, "Oh no, it must be something because so many people tell me that it's something that's good for your heart and such."

...because so many people tell me it must be true? Gag, god damned sheep.

Anyway, the bartender, though a tad tongue in cheek is correct.


Yes, wine may contain some anti-oxidants, ethanol is antiseptic, but really, the thing about wine drinking that is so good for you is that it promotes a certain life style.

Unlike shots that you knock back and get hammered with, or cheap beer you have to guzzle ice cold, or even good beer with its massive amount of calories, wine has a tendency to slow you down.

Each wine, especially if they aren't mass produced, has its own personality and life. It tells a story. Wine is also not very pleasant to guzzle, the chemical components don't lend themselves to that. The more you learn to appreciate wine, flavors and aromas, the more you begin to pay attention to other things you taste. This attention to details leads to a greater appreciation of the small things, a demand for higher quality food, good conversation and more satisfaction from life.
Besides, learning to chill the fuck out and not stress is one of the most healthy things you can do for yourself.






This had me start thinking about other quick fix bullshit we Americans are so quick to embrace.


Food.
I cringe every time I'm at a nice restaurant, where food is meant to be savored and I hear some ants in the pants asshole bitching that he's been waiting ten minutes for his well done steak. Chill dude, good shit takes time!(or bad stuff in the case of his poor steak)

We are so seduced by the fast food nation that the idea of actually walking in a building to get our food seems like too much trouble.  

WTF!?!

The consequence, poisonous food that is making a generation of fat, stupid Americans with no taste and no will.

Money.
I'll just put it on my card.
90 days no intrest,
no payments for one year!
0 down!

Banks make bad business moves and we throw cash at them, yee-haw!
The fact is: making and saving money and really paying for things takes time, effort and planning. There is no get rich quick scheme with any lasting potential.






Love.
Internet dating that matches your profiles for you, speed dating, Let's Do Lunch, singles groups.

What the hell happened to meeting people out at the things you like to do? 

You like cooking and food? Then you will most likely find compatible people at places like the grocery store, cooking classes, the bar of a badass restaurant. Relationships and feelings take time; there is no way to wave a magic wande and have the perfect little marriage, boyfriend, girlfriend, or whatever over night.






Health.
This one is huge. The body and mind are like a car, if you want it to run well for a long time you must maintain it and not abuse it. The more high performance the car, the more care it requires. Thus, if you are a marathon runner or basketball or soccer player, you will need high octane fuel and a tune-up more often.
The stuff you eat is your fuel. You need to keep your engine clean by not putting a ton of poison in your tank.

Exercise keeps everything balanced and moving. You've got to get out of the garage and go through ALL of your gears once in a while if you want to be a classic.

Mental strength is the computer that keeps it all together. Like muscles, the mind can be strengthened with resistance. Have converstaions with people of many different beliefs and backgrounds. Explore cultutre around the world, listen to new music, learn another language, draw.
Notice that these things take planning, effort; there is no quick fix for your health either.

So if your cholesterol is bad, your heart has issues, you are fat, your back hurts, ain't no glass of red wine a day gonna really fix you, my friend. You have to fix you, and that begins with the way you live your life.


Put yourself on a maintenance schedule and get your RPMs up once in a while, always ingesting the best fuel and, over time, I promise you will see a change, in everything.

And it never hurts to have that glass or four of wine! 

The Green MnMs

So one morning I posted something on my Facebook page about eating all the green MnMs ( Yes, I have a damn Facebook page, yes, I like having one, shut up).






Anyway, a couple of my buddies immediately got the joke. You see, those of us from a certain generation know that green MnMs make you horney. Not the yellow ones, certainly not the brown or blue ones…just the green.

Now this is of course something I think that started in junior high when we weren’t even good at recognizing horniness. I’m sure it’s the idea more than the actual green color getting us going.






But actually there are quite a few foods that actually do cause this reaction…at least for me. Now perhaps you aren’t in tune with your body, your taste buds, or your sexuality in a way that allows for this awesome outcome, but for me, there is little that’s a bigger turn-on than awesome food.






Like once, years ago, I had a friend flying in from New York. Damn JFK, the flights are always running behind and I get to the airport to find, yep, his is no exception and is delayed. At that time there was this cool seafood restaurant in the airport that had a neat bar and good specials. On this lucky day raw oysters were on special. That fucking plane was so late that I managed to eat five dozen gorgeous, glistening little bastards and drink an entire pitcher of Fat Tire ( which was also on special). Oysters make me hot, what can I say? That silky texture, the saltiness, and the beautiful insides of the shells….horseradish…..mmmm. Needless to say, by the time he got off the plane I told him, “Not only do you have to drive but we either have to find me a date or you are in serious trouble!”

Sorry, that’s all you get… don't be a perv!










So along these lines I remember when I first got a copy of Intercourses, The Aphrodisiac Cookbook. It was not only absolutely exquisite with amazing photographs and anecdotes but the recipes were cool too. If you want to delve into sexual dining, check it out.

So here’s a run down of some seriously sexy food that should work wonders on your, or your “friend’s” libido, fuck,(pun intended) I hate that word…sex drive, there you go.

Pesto


Basil, Garlic, a touch of Italian Parsley, Pine Nuts.


Now I like mine with a lot of garlic so my chosen victim…ahem…”friend,” needs to also eat the pesto/like garlic. Something about the fresh green taste of the herbs, the earthy heat of the garlic, and the buttery hint from the nuts; it makes you think of lying naked in the summer grass.






Panna Cotta with Flowers


Panna Cotta has such a silky feel, it is decadent and rich, which is always hot. But, when you add fresh flowers to the mix, the experience seems beyond decadence and is vaulted into the realm befitting royalty. The idea of eating something sort of precious like beautiful flowers just makes you feel naughty…and that’s nice.

Chocolate with Lavender and Honey


Now we all know chocolate is practically like porn, but this little concoction (no pun intended) takes it into the stratosphere. Ok, one, dark chocolate, the best you can find at least 73%, two, honey that has had crushed lavender hanging out in it for at least a week. Again, get local good-ass shit, it has more personality…and we all know what a turn on personality is! Now, melt the chocolate (double boiler, Google that shit) then throw in a pinch of cayenne. Yep, I said cayenne pepper. Now warm the honey so it’s slightly thin. Take anything…a marshmallow, a strawberry, a spoon of peanut butter, dip it in one then the other, enjoy. Feel the tingle on your lips from the pepper, the bitterness of chocolate soothed by the perfumed honey. Now I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that other things can be used for dipping…so use your imagination….warm chocolate and honey. Oh yeah.

Foie Gras, Sweetbreads and/or Bone Marrow


Guts are good, my friends. Rich, fatty, very savory, some say umami. Add a little vintage Champagne or heavy sweet wine, some fruit reductions, balsamic reductions and bitter greens; it’s a sensation explosion. Explosions are good. *wink*










So, the moral is, get started paying attention to your food AND your body; there is a big pay-off to be had.






Somebody turn on the air, will you? It’s hot in here.

In the beginning...

What is a blog? 
It's an imaginary place where you write shit.
Some people use it to make money. Some people use it to soapbox 'cause everyone in their REAL life is fucking tired of listening to their shit.
Some people have no one in their REAL life that they can say everything to.
Some think the crap they think is REALLY important and that you might give a shit about their self important, over indulgent ramblings.
Some are pathetic losers who insist on complaining at all times rather than actually FIXING shit.
And some people write blogs because they actually have funny, informative and/ or insightful things to say.


Me?




I'm all of those things. Except the money part... I do that well enough with other pursuits.


Yep, I admit to all of the above and I'm ok with it.
The good news? If you don't want to read my tumultuous, foul-mouthed spewing on life, cooking, booze, fucking, motherhood, marriage and whatever the fuck else I feel like talking about, you are only one small click away from sending this page to oblivion. Gotta love the Interweb.


So, who am I?
I am, fortunately, one of those rare people who knows. I know who I am. I'm not always pretty, nor good, nor nice but I'm always me.
And NO ONE can make mistakes like me, buddy, no one.


I am a Sommelier. That's supposed to mean I'm an expert about wine and shit. Yeah, I have a bunch of those fancy certificates. But that's not what makes me an expert nor well versed in wine. It's my love of it. From ground to glass. I understand and revel in the details of variety, terroir and viticulture. I am excited by the minutiae of wine making. I am obsessed with the journey of aging. I drink a ton of it and travel to the best places where it is made to play in the dirt and the barrels. I also am probably a total alcoholic but I function well and don't drive fucked up.


I am a chef. Actually, probably better be called a "cook," I don't have any formal training but I can tear a kitchen a new one. I get paid good money to do Underground Dinners about once a month as well as other catering gigs. I love cooking like I love wine. In an organic, all consuming way. To me cooking and wine aren't that different from sex except they often last longer and have less annoying side effects.


I am a mother. (Side effect of sex) I didn't plan to be a mother, in fact for many years and through many partners (and I mean many) I successfully and purposefully remained unpregnant. Which is good because especially since I was married twice before and that would have been awkward. 
This husband and I had decided not to have children either but then a good (couple) bottle(s) of Chardonnay and a desire to not ruin the moment running across the hall for a condom, and BAM! knocked up. Yes folks, it really DOES only take once.


Well, I had a decision to make. I mean, my husband and I had had 2 really fucked up years of separation due mostly to he being an insecure, passive aggressive prick. Did I really want to have a kid with this man. Did I really want to have a kid at all?
I am an ABSOLUTE total 100% full on supporter of abortion. Hardcore. I truly believe it is WAY more humane to terminate a pregnancy (kill a fetus, baby whatever you want to call it) than it is to bring them into a life unwanted and kicked around. Hell, in some situations I think it would have been more merciful to euthanize many babies instead of allowing them to live.  Yeah, yeah, this could be one of those times where you exercise the almighty Click.
Anyway, so abortion wasn't out of the question but if you are a real human, who really understands the value of life, you would give a decision like that a LOT of thought. 
Basically, I couldn't think of any dire reasons to have an abortion. The husband and I talked it over, discussed the options and the circumstances and decided to go ahead.
More on this later.


Either way, I am a mother.


So, these pages will be filled with observations about life, all of it, from my perspective.
Fair warning, I hate religion, especially christianity. I hate politics. I hate homogenized corporate crap (especially food.) And I think the use of profanity is a high art form to be practiced often and with massive concentration.


I am also often a fucking hypocrite....enjoy.