Slices Of Life...

Today my baby turns 9 years old.  In the blink of an eye.  It has always been my tradition to write a loving tribute in this forum to each of my children on their birthdays...and as much as I love to share, more and more I feel like they are getting to an age where their lives and moments and questions and dreams and hopes and assertions should be theirs to share... I think they are ready for me to let my birthday love notes over the past four years stand as is, to look back on and speak to who they are and what they have meant to me...and how they have all made me even more who I am than I could have been on my own.  They are amazing children...I cannot believe I have been blessed by their presence in my life...

Of course, he is a youngest child and I think he deserves some special props on this 9th anniversary of his touch and go birth...so.... Will is awesome in so many different ways....he totally gets and then laughs like a maniac at my sarcastic jabs, as I do his superior wit and timing...he is seriously one of the funniest people I know, big or small...and he notices every little nuance and detail in a comment, a situation, a structure...and he shares his impressions as such. I look at him and he still seems to be my little one, my baby boy...but day after day he is growing to be such a thoughtful, wise, brave and multi-faceted person with interesting opinions and points-of-view... He feels deeply and is endlessly open-hearted....he still tears up when one of his siblings is in trouble or hurt or sad. Will is resolute in his opinions and absolute in his commitment to being whatever and whomever he wants to be, and he sees no obstacles...he wants it? he's going to get it... He's is exactly the person I have always wished I could be....And I secretly think it's possible that somehow those Brit rock geniuses, The Sweet, must have known back in the 70's that this child would be upon us one day when they wrote: "Willy sends them silly with his star-shine shimmy shuffle smile..."  He does!

I am just thrilled to be able to share in his life, let alone be his mother on top of that.  Blessed and lucky.  Happy Birthday, Will! My sweet little darling...

So now...on to new business...

I walked into the kitchen/classroom my first day of culinary school this Saturday....all jazzed up in my apron, oversized white chef's coat and gigantic chef's pants that TJ had to safety-pin hem for me the evening prior...I had on my black Buster Brown-like orthopedic, professional kitchen shoes and my long locks braided and pushed up under a white skull-cap type chef's hat that is reserved for the professional kitchen's lowest men on the totem pole: cooks in training...and probably dishwashers too... That's ok...my ego is in the basement somewhere anyway after almost 20 years working in PR, so I am happy that at least in a kitchen, each worker's place is clearly defined...and if you don't know where you rank, then check out the height of your hat...

In any case...I wondered if I would be the oldest in the class and thankfully I was not...I mean, I am up there compared to the 20-somethings, a mix of cool guys and a young girl or two... And there are my two new boyfriends, both Latino guys from Queens...super sweetly offering to carry my chair and my 500 lb. bag of kitchen tools and doing all kinds of cute chivalrous boy things like holding my door, treating me just the way I hope my boys treat the women they work with someday...  Of course, maybe my two new boyfriends are actually helping me because they think I am old and fragile like a their moms or aunties or abuelitas are...but I choose to believe otherwise... There are also two girls my age, one with kids exactly the same ages as mine...and the other a career-changer with a freaking MBA that got her nothing but the desire to be her own boss...and there's the standard bad joke telling guy in his late 50's who tried to tease me for being from NJ when in fact he is too...oh, yeah...haha...good one...clearly he's not from Bergen County, ok...

Anyway...before the chef-instructor, who is like a younger, more intimidating version of my beloved Gramps -- Germanic, straightforward, precise, super neat and tidy, and no patience for BS (e.g. late 50's guy's poorly timed jokes) -- before he took the room, we had a mini orientation with the Dean of Students, who reviewed the rules of the kitchen with us, on which we had to sign-off...and I thought, no problem, I can do this...I can stay clean and be prompt and respectful and answer "yes, Chef" to every question no matter what it is...and ok, if I have to keep polish off my nails, I can make that happen too... But wait...what does it say here in rule number 5?

Cursing or aggressive language will not be tolerated. The kitchen is a serious place of business, this behavior is unprofessional and Chef will have you removed from the kitchen should your language and manner present as such. 

And all I could think was:  "Oh f**k, motherf**ker, I am totally f**ked!"

No, really...I mean, I love expressive language...not that it's appropriate in all venues, and I am a seasoned professional with manners and decorum in my forum... But let's be honest...we all get frustrated...we all let it slip when we shouldn't...I mean, truthfully, my kids don't even look up anymore when they hear it...oops...bad mom!  But back to the kitchen....what if I start a fire in the convection oven or forget to prepare a day's worth of mise en place or totally f**k up (see there I go!) an entire lesson by burning the Beef Wellington... I have to admit, remembering not to scream  "Sh**!" from the depths of my soul is going to be a tough one...or so I thought....

You see, the second day we began knife work...and I have been cooking since I was a young teenager...I know what I am doing...I know how to to chop and dice and hold my knives...well, I thought I did, because not only do I have poor knife-holding habits, my carrot slicing and onion dicing were seriously lacking as a result...and Chef had to correct me, which made me feel like a dumb girl...and then 10 seconds later, my bad habits returned and I sliced a fifth of the way through my left thumb...and that may sound like a nick, but it was a slice...and I began to gush blood.  And by some divine intervention -- from my Gramps maybe?? nah, he loved cursing... -- by the grace of whatever celestial spirit was watching over me, nary an expletive escaped my lips...I didn't even think one.  I was too scared Chef would consider me was a complete f**k up (see!)...instead, right after he had me sanitize my knives and work space, he acted like my Gramps once again and dressed the wound and covered it with one of those rubber finger covers that, sorry, look like mini-c*ndoms...and I learned my lesson.  There will be mistakes along the way, I guess...but at least I didn't chop off my entire thumb...like my Gramps did way back in the day...and I bet he didn't hold back the string of F-bombs that surely followed that debacle... See why he was my idol?

So...with sliced up thumb and complete exhaustion in tow, I think we are off to a good start...because you know, aside from sharing moments with the ones I love, I am never quite so happy as I am when I'm in the kitchen. A bloody thumb and ugly shoes and no nail polish and a bruised ego...even quelling my expressive language is worth being able to spend even just a small part of my life in the kitchen...

Oh yeah, and by the way, the next three items Chef had us chop I was certain to take caution and be super precise...and Chef said "Very good, Suzanne..." ...which might as well have been a marriage proposal coming from him...yay me!

Star pupil in the making?!  You know it, b**ches!!
... (told you...I can't help it!!)...

xoxo, Suz

PS  A Happy Birthday to the other Leo in my life, big sis Cathleen...who still considers Will her very own special birthday present...ok, we can share... Love you!

Photos:
1.  Look at that little darling at age 3 in 2006...an LBI birthday, cake by me, via Duncan Hines...
2.  Awesome, perfect, beautiful...in 2007 in Barnegat Light, NJ...
3.  How I still see him...
4.  Hot as hell, right?  Come on now, try not to lick the screen...
5.  Not my Gramps or my Chef...but he seems cool too...
6.  I think up new curses sometimes to fill the void, honestly...
7.  My pretty, butchered, and c*ndom covered thumb...photographed by Tim on the Westside Highway...
8.  Much better on the medium dice now that I am holding my knife correctly...only took me 25 years!

"You've Seen the Films, kiddo. It Ain't Over 'til It's Over..."

"I'm a star. I'm a star. I'm a star. I'm a star. I'm a big bright shining star. Yeah, that's right."
--Dirk Diggler, Boogie Nights

You know that scene...the "big reveal..." "Big" being the operative word there for dear, sweet, wounded naif, Dirk Diggler...finally back on the scene, back doing what he does best, after days, weeks, months...years, even...his future back on track. And after all he's been through...let's not even get started on the whole demo tapes standoff ("feel, feel, feel, feel, feel, feel my he-eeat...feel my he-eeat...") and "Sister Christian" shoot out and meth-fueled prostitution and brutal yet misdirected gay-bashing that brings him home... Still, after all that, at the end of the road, he can still look himself (well, part of himself...) in the mirror and believe that he is still a star. We can all learn a little about resilience and second comings from Dirk Diggler...wait, I am not sure that sounded the way I meant it...well, you know what I mean.... Dirk wisely rediscovered his true talents and he let them shine...

So...like most of us, I left college with a suitcase full of scholars to quote and literary references aplenty...but clearly, I am a simple girl at heart, because whenever I am left contemplating next steps and life decisions and planning the future, what comes to mind is the montage that closes Boogie Nights, set to the tune of "God Only Knows" by The Beach Boys...  All that redemption and hope and life moves on stuff, even for a ragtag family of pornographers and cokeheads... What an uplifting message -- everyone gets a second act -- and I always hear that song in my head when an ending approaches, and a new beginning is within reach...


It is the last week of school here in Wyckoff, which is always emotional...hopeful, yet poignant all at once... There are promotion ceremonies and "Moving Up Day" and proms and awards dinners and commencements and kindergarten plays and year-end parties and "Clap Outs..."...and I am at the end of my two year stint as PTO President. I know, I know...laugh away, high school friends, I know you are recalling my behavior in school back then and find the PTO thing all so incongruously riotous...though most of my friends from the different stages in my life saw my PTO gig as making some sort of twisted, hilarious sense. I joked often about being sure to create some scandal on the way out, just so I can crash and burn in dramatic fashion and be forever notorious. But that didn't happen...we closed our last meeting, I wore a peony pink dress and pretty, tortoise-shell high heels that I nearly broke my ankle in only days prior...I gave out gifts to my beloved Exec Board, who in turn gifted me a gorgeous turquoise and peridot necklace...we officially welcomed our new Board, and I thanked every single person I could think of. And I was proud, because I worked hard at the job, like I aim to do in all tasks and roles -- and relationships -- that I think are important... And though PTO was only one part of my life these past two years, not what elementally defined me, but important still...even so, I knew I had to wait til I was on the other side of it before I could start my real life once again...

And here I am, on the other side...

When I was in my early 20's I knew there were two things that came naturally to me -- writing and making friends. And I did both, as much as I could...I was young and I lived in New York City... I was in PR...lucky me, I got to write press materials all day long! And there were young people there alongside me...and we became fast friends...of course! I lived in a little apartment on West 10th Street, with the world's tiniest kitchen...and I guess I fancied myself a character in a Woody Allen movie, some latter-day Annie Hall, churning out three course meals and holiday celebrations with recipes from my ratty copy of The New Basics, my friends perching dinner plates on their laps while sitting on the bed. That was the most fun ever.

I had always been a foodie, long before those years on West 10th I had been introduced to delicious food and fine restaurants by my parents, who preferred raising RJ and I with midweek dinners in the City to homework sessions and early-to-bed mantras... The minute I could work a stove and grease a pan, I tried to teach myself how to create those flavors on my own... But it was as I became an adult, and in writing about food and restaurants and beverages at work, that I began to consider what part of all this really interested me...what really came naturally to me and made me happy? It was the cooking. It was making people happy with my food. So why wouldn't I just spend my life cooking then? I enrolled in the French Culinary Institute in search of a Culinary Arts degree...and I was young, I knew this training would open a million doors for me...and maybe, just maybe, someday I could fuse all my special talents and passions and become a restaurant reviewer or cookbook writer or have my own food column or run a test kitchen for one of the magazines...or something...

But a few months before classes began, I became engaged to Rob....and I began to plan my wedding and my future...and I began to realize what a different life I would be embarking on than my soon-to-be husband and our young friends who were all starting out in their normal, Wall Street/Advertising/Pharmaceutical Sales/You Name It jobs. The route I was taking, I might likely have worked in kitchens of restaurants they frequented, and catering events and parties and weddings even...weddings I wanted to be a guest at instead... I became spooked...and I turned my back on culinary school...and I felt like everyone was disappointed in me...but I made the excuse that I really only wanted to be a food writer anyway... Soon I knew I had made a mistake, though I couldn't admit it to myself until much later... There were blessings of course...that detour in life gave me my three gorgeous children, lights of my life...an exciting career, a nice home and scads of friends that I would never trade...but still, there was a twinge of regret living in my heart...

Over the past few months I have been contemplating....and I decided that I never lost that dream to become trained and credentialed and learned in the area of food and creating and giving of myself through my work...and I decided that it was time for a new beginning, time to rediscover my talents, just like Dirk Diggler, and get ready for my second act.

So...I will begin attending Institute of Culinary Education at the end of July.

Who knows what it will bring me...but I know I will be proud to have gone back and made it right...and to show my kids that it is never too late. My darling Will has appointed himself my motivator...he's been planning the menu, choosing a name and mentally designing our future restaurant, going so far as to approach the owner of our favorite local coffee shop, telling him to call us when he's ready to sell...so funny... And maybe it really will end up that way... But to be honest, I don't know what I am going to do with this degree...I have no clue...I just want to be in a position to do something I love all the time...so it's the beginning of a new chapter... And as I wrote in an email to my dear, supportive friends in town this week: "I hope you will all work in my food truck with me someday...selling tacos to construction workers...sounds good, right?"

It sounds great actually....
God Only Knows...

So while writing this here today, I remembered that another great film also ends with a montage narrated deftly by that same song...the final scene of cherished love and life lessons at the airport in Love Actually.... And I was thinking that my whole experience is not really like Dirk Diggler's...it's not really about coming from behind (sorry...ugh...you know what I mean...)...I am not all "I am a star..." like he was or anything. For me it's about existing in life and experiencing a simple epiphany -- your happy future is right there in front of you, within grasp of your own hands...go get it!...


So right now I feel less like Dirk Diggler and more like the cute, chubby aide to Hugh Grant as Prime Minister, when she runs towards him at the airport and jumps into his arms, red coat and all, not a care for who sees...

That's me. Taking a leap...

Happy Summer!
xoxo, Suz

Photos:

1. Big moment....
2. Cokehaeds and pornographers...but lovable, no?
3. Some of the beloved Exec Board, Rhonda, Kelly, Me, Joan and Suse...hot b**ches, dressed for our final PTO meeting...a little blurry, pretty sure the photographer was wasted...(not pictured but still beloved, TJ, Robyn, JVC and Jen...)
4. There she is now, Past President, in her peony pink and gorgeous turquoise and peridot necklace...a look of silly relief all over her face....
5. The New Basics...prop for my past as a Woody Allen character....
6. Totally worth the detour...my three...
7. Forever dear friends, Amber and Nance...who have both offered to sample my homework...
8. Hugh Grant as PM along with my hero -- cute, chubby aide and her very own second act...

And for your viewing pleasure...teeny, tiny bit NSFW...just for a second...

I'm A Sprinkler, I'm A Drizzler, I'm A Midnight Nibbler...

I have always loved throwing dinner parties...the real deal...sit down, plated, three course meals for adults. I love selecting the guest list...choosing the menu...concocting a signature cocktail and wine pairings...planning the table settings and linens and centerpiece... Mostly I love how it all comes together and becomes about creating an experience that ultimately, will make the guests feel happy and cared for. You know...life gets busy though, and the year passes by in a flurry of seasons...every weekend is taken up...and you have to focus your energies and pocketbook beyond your obsessive need to entertain...so it had been a while that I hosted a full-on dinner party myself....

Last year when planning the Spring Dinner -- the biggest PTO fundraiser of the year --

somehow it came to me to donate a dinner party for 10, to be served in the home of the highest bidder. Some of my friends offered to take part as clean-up/service/kitchen crew...so I went for it...donate away! Three courses, a signature cocktail, hors d'oeurves, floral arranging, full service and clean-up...really, it's a bargain for the bidder, regardless... And as it turns out, five of my girlfriends from the long-running monthly Gourmet Group teamed up and snagged the highest bid...I suspect being in my Gourmet posse, they had no reservations about my skills, so they knew the win was sweet. We agreed to wait to schedule until after summer...and then after the Holidays...and so....

I spent the last two weeks menu planning and testing concepts and asking for thoughts and advice from my foodie friends of like-minded palates and greater abilities (Jim, Nick, Heidi and SuzT...thanks guys!!). I shopped and prepped and coordinated...and then, this Saturday night I descended upon Marisa's kitchen with boxes and bags of my tools and ingredients...my team (whom I am thinking we need to call "The Midnight Nibblers," thanks to our mid-course re-working of the Steve Miller classic, "The Joker") consisted of Gwen (Head of kitchen hygiene); Lisa (Sous chef/Director of plating); Nancy (Barmaid/Server/Drizzler); Susan (Line cook/Server/Sprinkler)...and me, Exec Chef/Chef de cuisine/Expediter...dressed in our professional "all-black".... There were herbed chevre crostinis and beet-carrot fritters and the seared scallop on butternut squash puree with bacon and maple cream drizzle and Syrah-braised short ribs and truffled mac & cheese and roasted brussels and Bananas Foster bread pudding...there was an Elderflower cocktail, courtesy of ADP, mixed up by Nancy... And the meal went really well...and the guests loved everything...and though there were unexpected moments, we managed them...and when all was said and done, if I do say so myself...we were an awesome team and we put out a top notch dining experience for our "guests." And they were happy. And I was blissful.

So I have been thinking....

You know when people ask: "what would you do if you won a huge lottery jackpot?" Usually people say: "quit my job," "travel the world," "pay off all my bills," "buy my parents a house," "go back to school and become a History professor," "invest for my kids' future and live off the interest..." All good answers...respectable and practical and smart uses for an extra $180 million... My go-to answer had always been: "buy a rambling home in Nantucket with extensive, private grounds, a view and a ropewalk down the cliff to the sea...wake up every morning in the salty air and stay there forever...." (of course, I'd also need a pied a terre in New York City, let's be honest....)... Still, I would love to do that...I love the idea of being in a beautiful place year-round, even in the whipping, grey winters of New England...I love the thought of waking up every morning and seeing the water -- am a Pisces to the core, you know?...and I love the thought of being in a place that takes so much effort to get to, that your beloveds would make this special trip by boat or puddle jumper just to see you... All great reasons to spend your $180 million as such...

But I wonder now if the rambling house on the teeny, tiny, removed island would truly be my go-to plan...once the bills were paid and the kids' future was secure and my interest check was arriving... You see, a few years ago my friend, TL, told me his answer to the lottery question, and since then I have wondered if maybe he had the right idea.

He said: "I'd become a barkeep at a low key but welcoming watering hole, mix up great cocktails, chat with the customers, welcome friends..." Well, ok...I jazzed it up a little, I think he really said: "I'd become a bartender..." but he meant what I wrote...

I remember being so struck by that...and kind of jealous that TL came up with that fantastic answer before I did. I mean, if you are 100% comfortable in life...if your children are cared for and your bills are paid, you totally could keep a low key but welcoming watering hole, mix up great cocktails, chat with the customers, welcome friends...

So anyway, I was reminded of all this during the dinner party...and how much I have always loved cooking, and being around friends and giving my love to people I care about in this way...and I thought of how often I enter a restaurant or a pub and wish it were mine...or I pass a location and think how great my own little upscale greasy spoon would look on that corner... and how many times I have discussed the need for an awesome breakfast place or a better local beer and burger joint or a homemade doughnut shop with everyone from Nancy, to Rob, to Sandy, to Sam, to Kerry, to Tim H., to Scott S., to Terry from Total Concept, to my children, for goodness sakes... And I am not sure I can wait for TL or myself to win the lottery, though I think his watering hole would be much improved with me in the kitchen cranking out delicious bar bites...I am not talking greezy mozzarella sticks or soggy nachos...I am talking gastro-delciousness....fantastic little bites and super creative versions of food we all love... Served up with a delicious, frosty beer poured by TL (notice he has to tend the bar regardless of whether or not he wins a dime...thanks, Tim!...I should probably have run all this by him...but don't lie, you would ALL be regulars if he and I teamed up on our fake fantasy watering hole with the good food...)... But it would be such fun for me...even in the hell that is the restaurant business...if no one bothered me and I could get lost in thought while I made food all day long, I'd be so happy.

So ask me again -- "what would you do if you ever won a huge lottery jackpot?"

I'd keep a small, creative kitchen cranking out delicious food and seasonal treats for neighbors, friends, guests, visitors, passers-by...

I still love Nantucket...maybe my watering hole can be there...but when I snag that $180 mil, I will hold off on the extensive grounds and the ropewalk and the seaside view...because before I had ever even been to Nantucket, I had fallen in love with cooking... And more I think about it, the more I see that in general our goals and dreams in life should be to open our eyes to what it is we love...and how it is we want to live our lives...and what truly brings us joy...because I think having that love in your life everyday would be worth giving away the $180 million...

So...have I successfully convinced you to engage in a bidding war for my donation at the Spring Dinner this May???

Photos:

1. A dinner party with Pina, Colleen, Gwen, Helen and the guys... Ok, clearly this is The Brick House, but all my REAL dinner party pics are trapped on my dead laptop... Still, you get the idea, yes?

2. The Gourmet Girls enjoying a "We've Got B*lls!" dinner last season...ADP, Marisa and Robyn, all dinner party winners...and Suse, of the crackerjack catering team... Marisa is totally eyeing up the balls!

3. The Midnight Nibblers: (left to right) Lisa, Me, Suse, Gwen and Nancy...

4. The actual first course just after plating: seared scallops, butternut squash puree, a drizzle of maple cream reduction and a sprinkle of lardons and chives... Yum.

5. Ok this rambling Nantucket manse will just have to do...

6. Me, TL and Kathie...surely she'd be one of our first customers...

7. This looks like a mighty fine watering hole for me to cook out of... That might actually be TL taking up one of those stools...

8. A little summertime crostini I whipped up last June...that'll look good on my bar menu...tastes great with a Bud!