Julia Child Week: Mustard-Herb Baked Chicken

Today's Julia Child tribute is more in keeping with what most people associate with her style, thanks to a generous helping of butter. But really, not that much butter! Most of the flavor in this amazing dish actually comes from a sauce that's brushed onto the chicken, coupled with crisp, toasty bread crumbs.

Poulets Grillés à la Diable [pooh-LAY gree-YAY ah lah dee-AH-bluh] - Chicken Grilled in the Style of the Devil, with a good dose of zest - is a truly fabulous dish!  It smells so amazing while it bakes, and meets every tidbit of anticipation by tasting just as exceptional as you expect it to after you've been tormented by the tempting aroma.

This dish is sublime when it's served hot from the oven; but it's just as delicious served cold, for a light supper or a picnic ... or, in my case, a breakfast of beloved leftovers. Mustard, green onions, and herbs all work together to provide a complex, vibrant flavor while the chicken remains consummate comfort food despite its sophistication.

Gotta love Julia Child, and the French!





Poulets Grilles à la Diable (Mustard-Herb Chicken)
(slightly adapted from Julia Child's recipe in Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume I)

• 3 tablespoons butter
• 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
• 2-1/2 pounds chicken thighs
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
• pinch of freshly ground black pepper
• pinch of cayenne pepper
• 2 tablespoons minced green onion
• 2 tablespoons minced fresh herbs (I used basil and parsley; tarragon would be lovely)
• 3 cups fresh white bread crumbs

Preheat oven to 450F. Grease a 9"x13" casserole dish.

In a small saucepan, melt together butter and oil; brush onto chicken, then place chicken skin-side down into the prepared dish. Bake for 10 minutes per side, basting every 5 minutes. Sprinkle with salt.

In a small bowl, combine mustard, peppers, green onion, and herbs; mix with 2 tablespoons basting juices to make a sauce with a mayonnaise-like consistency. Schmear the mustard sauce onto the chicken skin.

Place the bread crumbs onto a plate and roll chicken in them. Place chicken back into the baking dish, skin-side up, and bake for 10 more minutes, until juices run clear when chicken is pierced.

Serves 6 ... well, really 2-3 'cause everyone will want seconds.

Sweet-Tart Grilled Strawberries and So Much More at Berry Fest

I recently received a lovely email from Whole Foods Market, inviting me to enjoy some beautiful organic berries and encouraging me to share the bounty:

"Summer means getting together with friends and loved ones to celebrate longer days, warm (sometimes too warm!) weather and relaxed schedules. At Whole Foods Market, it’s also a time that we rejoice in the fresh goodness of organic berries .... (We're) celebrating organic blueberries, blackberries, strawberries and raspberries, and we’d like to invite you to join in on the fun by hosting your own berry bash!"  (Note: To that end, Whole Foods very graciously provided me with a gift card to help purchase supplies.)

Well, how could I refuse such a charming offer?  I adore berries, and I'm always happy to feed my family and friends.  Count me in!  I've been to Baconfest, then BRU Fest ... the time had come to be the hostess with the most-est for Berry Fest!

I didn't want to just make strawberry shortcake, although I love it; I wanted to expand beyond the expected.  At the same time, though, I didn't want to make anything overly complicated or exotic; rather, I wanted to serve dishes that would let the berries shine, and dishes that are easy enough to make that you can enjoy your berry fest after a long day at work or a busy weekend full of chores and errands.  I also wanted to be sure there were treats to enjoy even on those days when it's just too hot to cook.

And so, I devised the following menu:

Appetizers:
Mini Toasts with Goat Cheese and Fresh Blackberries
Blueberry Sausage Puffs with Raspberry Honey Mustard Dipping Sauce
Antipasto Platter featuring salami, cheeses, and Pomegranate Molasses-Basted Grilled Strawberries

Entree:
Blackberry-Fig Marinated Grilled Chicken with Spiced Blueberry BBQ Sauce

Salad:
Greens 'n' Grains Salad with Fresh Blackberries

Desserts:
Strawberry-Rhubarb Streusel Bars
Pizelle S'mores with Toasted Marshmallows and Smashed Raspberries

I also served raspberry iced tea and a bottle of raspberry-lemon sparkling water - easy but delicious beverages to complement the theme du jour.  And to keep the drinks cold, I offered ice cubes that had raspberries frozen into them, for flavor and for color.

Today, I'm offering recipes for the appetizers; the rest of the week will be devoted to the other delicious dishes.  Enjoy the bounty!

Mini Toasts with Goat Cheese and Fresh Blackberries

Jeremy really enjoyed these, telling me that the flavors of the cheese and the berries complemented each other perfectly.

1 6-ounce package Chevrie Fleurie organic soft-ripened goat cheese, at room temperature
16 Whole Foods 365 brand mini toasts
16 organic blackberries

Slice the cheese into 16 pieces, placing one slice onto each piece of toast; top with a blackberry.

Makes 16 toasts.

Antipasto Platter featuring salami, cheeses, and Pomegranate Molasses-Basted Grilled Strawberries

Everyone loved the cheeses and the salami, but they raved about the strawberries - "I didn't know you could grill strawberries," "This really brings out the sweetness in the fruit," and "The glaze really brightens the flavor of the strawberries."  I had wanted to serve something other than the usual olives, and was thrilled that the skewered berries were such a hit!

favorite meats - I served Fiorucci brand all natural hard salami
favorite cheeses - I served Seaside English Cheddar, Fontina, and a blueberry-studded Wensleydale
16 organic strawberries
2 tablespoons pomegranate molasses

Arrange meats and cheese in slices or cubes on a plate, leaving room for the strawberries.

Thread 2 strawberries onto skewers (so they don't just spin on one stick).  Preheat grill to medium-low, then place skewered strawberries onto grill.  Cook for 2-3 minutes per side, basting with the pomegranate molasses, just until slightly caramelized.  Place strawberries onto antipasto platter and serve.

Serves 6-8.

Blueberry Sausage Puffs with Raspberry Honey Mustard Dipping Sauce

I used the blueberry-flavored sausage to keep with the party's theme, but any flavor of sausage could be used for these simple, elegant, and delicious hors d'oeuvres.

Puffs:
1 17.3-ounce package of Pepperidge Farm puff pastry
8 links Whole Foods uncooked blueberry country maple breakfast sausage
1 egg
1 tablespoon water

Preheat oven to 400F.  Lightly grease a baking sheet.

One at a time, roll each of the 2 sheets of dough on a lightly floured surface until it is just over 12"x12"; trim rough edges.  Cut dough into 4 quarters.

One at a time, lay a sausage link onto one piece of dough, at the closest edge to you; roll up, pinch dough to seal.  Cut into 8 pieces and place the pieces onto the prepared baking sheet, cut side up, leaving 2" space between puffs; repeat with remaining dough and sausage.

Combine egg and water; brush lightly over pastries.  Bake for 15 minutes until puffed and golden and sausage is cooked.

Raspberry Honey Mustard:
1/2 cup organic raspberries
4 tablespoons Whole Foods 365 brand organic honey mustard
2 tablespoons buckwheat honey

Place raspberries into a small bowl; mash thoroughly with a fork.  Stir in mustard and honey.

To serve:  Place sausage puffs onto a serving plate, and offer with a bowl of the dipping sauce.

Makes 64 puffs and about 1 scant cup sauce.

Mongolian Tartar-Style Steaks

At the internationally-influenced picnic I recently served, I veered from my tendency to cook foods from my favorite cuisines - Jewish and Italian.  I cooked some tremendously flavorful steaks that were so easy to make that they hardly warrant a recipe.

Marc Cramer's Imperial Mongolian Cooking: Recipes from the Kingdoms of Genghis Khan is one of the more unusual and interesting cookbooks I have in my collection.  I bought it at the late, great, and much missed The Savvy Traveller bookstore that used to reside across Michigan Avenue from The Art Institute of Chicago.

When Jeremy was younger and our family would take weekend trips to Chicago, it was simply understood that I would visit the bookstore.  And I would spend a long time there.  And if anyone wanted to meander off to grab a snack when they got bored while I perused, they were welcome to leave and then come back ... everyone knew where to find me.  I'd be looking through books about year-round trips around the world, books about volunteering in exotic locales, books about quaint towns in foreign countries, and cookbooks devoted to ethnic cuisines.

But, as you can well imagine in a day and age that can't even support the behemoth that Borders once was, a little bookstore devoted to all aspects of travel and foreign locales couldn't possibly survive.  It closed in 2007.

Thus, not only did I take a culinary trip to Mongolia in preparing the recipe I'm going to share with you, but I also travelled back to Chicago, back to my favorite bookstore, and back to the many dreams and vicarious adventures that were fostered there.

Mongolian cooking is not just about choosing proteins, vegetables, and sauces, then stir frying it all together - a la Mongolian Barbecue - on a searingly hot surface.  The Mongol Empire once stretched across land now known as Poland and Hungary, across Armenia and Iraq, as far south as Vietnam and as far north as Russia.  Therefore, it incorporates a wide variety of influences and ingredients.

But typically, Mongol cooking is very meat-oriented; vegetables did not grow readily in the cold center of the territory, so only hardy varieties (potatoes, onions) would have been available.  Yak was popular, but beef and lamb make excellent substitutes.  Dairy products, as well, are essential to the diet, and yak milk is the base for cheeses and beverages.

These steaks, then, which are grilled and then accented with Asian flavors and scallions, are very representative of Mongol cooking.  They take just a few minutes to cook and a minimum of ingredients, but they offer a maximum of flavor.

Mongolian Tartar-Style Steaks (Tatar Uhriin Mah)
(slightly adapted from Marc Cramer's Imperial Mongolian Cooking: Recipes from the Kingdoms of Genghis Khan)

1 pound, total weight, thin-cut round steaks
kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper
2 green onions, chopped
1 large garlic clove, minced
2 tablespoons teriyaki sauce
1/2 teaspoon brown mustard
1 teaspoon sesame oil
pinch of red pepper flakes

Preheat outdoor grill to medium.  Lay the steaks onto a platter and sprinkle with salt and pepper.  Grill 3 minutes per side, or to desired doneness.

While steaks are cooking, combine remaining ingredients.  Remove steaks to a serving dish and drizzle sauce over them.

Serves 4-6.

Root Beer-Basted Ham

I didn't serve ham for Easter, since my Easter plans went rather awry.  So I baked the ham a few days later for Jeremy, his buddy Mitch, and their friend Anna who's now sharing lead vocals with Jeremy in their band. (For a sample of their music, go to this site: 90 Miles From Vegas.)

Feeding the band is a long-cherished tradition here, and it had been ages since I'd had the privilege.  Band members started focusing on school, schedules conflicted, kids moved up north ... they all grew up and life went on.  Jeremy still hung out with his friends, but it was much quieter and less festive.

Most parents cringe at the noise of band practice; and I admit, it has been a few years since Jeremy and his buddies played here ... either they got louder or I got older, preferably the former!  But I'd still rather have them tinkering around with grunge pedals and screeching guitars here, at my place, even if I often wonder when the neighbors will start banging on the door. (To their credit, they've complimented Jeremy on his music!)

I've missed having hungry kids to feed when they take a break from practice.  I've missed having ready guinea pigs who happily devour whatever I prepare for them.

I've missed having kids hanging out in my basement, playing music and following their dreams.


Root Beer-Basted Ham

1 2.5-ounce honey cured ham, boneless, sliced
1/2 cup root beer
1/4 cup barbecue sauce
1 tablespoon brown mustard
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper sauce
juice of 1 small orange

Preheat oven to 400F.  Place ham into an 8"x8" baking dish.

Place remaining ingredients into a small saucepan; bring to a boil and cook for 5 minutes.  Pour sauce over ham, cover dish with foil, and bake for 20 minutes.

Uncover, then baste ham with sauce; bake for 10 more minutes.  Baste again, then bake for 10 more minutes.

Serves 8.

Honey Mustard Trout

I was in a fast food restaurant a few weeks ago, after I'd lost internet service at my condo due to some confusion over the account; it was transferred to my ex-husband's new house sooner than it was supposed to be. McDonald's had wi-fi, and Jeremy had won a free small smoothie while playing the Monopoly game. He gave me the coupon so that I could have a free treat to compensate for the inconvenience of having to move my writing operation out of my favorite comfy chair.

But normally I drive by these places with contempt and disdain. I will spare you my rant, but I assure you that it can continue for quite some time. You'd get bored and you might not get around to reading the rest of my post, which offers an excellent recipe.

In honor of today's dubious holiday - National Fast Food Day - I'm giving you a recipe that can be made in 20 minutes. Real food, nutritious food, delicious food, prepared from start-to-finish in 20 minutes. Fast food, in the truest sense of the words!

I bought some beautiful trout filets on sale recently. I considered the traditional Trout Almondine, but decided to tweak it a bit; it's usually prepared with breading and butter, and I wanted something lighter.

So I schmeared the fish with a honey mustard, and sprinkled some ground almonds over that. A quick bake, and that was it! The fish was perfectly tender, moist, and exceptionally good. The sweetness of the coating was an ideal complement to the trout.

There is no need for drive-thrus or car-side services, the usual notion of "fast food." On this day, honor the spirit of those words by serving honest, simple, quickly prepared food that you make in your very own kitchen.

Honey Mustard Trout Almondine

2 trout filets, totaling 3/4-pound
pinch each of salt and pepper
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
2 tablespoons honey
2 tablespoons ground almonds

Preheat oven to 375F. Line a 9"x13" baking pan with foil, then grease the foil.

Lay the filets side-by-side skin-side down in the prepared pan; sprinkle with the salt and pepper. In a small bowl, stir together the mustard and honey; spread over the fish. Sprinkle the almonds over the fish.

Bake for 15 minutes. Serve immediately.

"Never Out of Mustard"

My good friend Wendy and I went to Detroit recently for an adventure. First we went to the Eastern Market and bought tomato plants and gorgeous sparkly, dangly earrings; we immersed ourselves in the abundance of fruits and vegetables and baked goods and plants and colors and aromas and vendors.

Before heading off to lunch, we walked the length of the Dequindre Cut:

"The Dequindre Cut is a below-grade pathway, formerly a Grand Trunk Western Railroad line, located on the east side of Detroit, Michigan just west of St. Aubin Street. Much of the Cut has been converted to a greenway; the colorful graffiti along the pathway has been left in place." (With thanks to Wikipedia for the succinct description.)


I had been there before, in the winter, and hadn't been able to see the entire expanse. But Wendy and I can both walk for long stretches (we walked 6 miles in all that day) and it was a stellar, sunny morning that was just perfect for a leisurely stroll.

As I had the last time I walked the Cut, I took pictures of the notable graffiti lining the way. Some of it is amateurish, and some is quite exceptional.

But how could a food obsessive like me not capture and cherish this piece:


This is practically my motto in life! I love mustard, in so many of its variations: yellow, Creole, whole grain, honey, whatever.

And, truly, I am never out of mustard.

In fact, I love mustard so much that I used two different types on a grilled salami and Muenster sandwich awhile ago (pre-discovery of my blood pressure issues, of course!): both brown and Dijon. Each makes its own unique contribution to the cause, and works in unison with the rest of the ingredients to offer flavor but without overpowering any other item.

Why be boring and just settle for one mustard, when you can boost the flavor with something as simple as a second schmear?

Grilled Salami and Muenster on Rye

2 slices caraway rye
schmear of Dijon mustard
schmear of brown mustard
2 thick slices Muenster
4 thin slices salami
1 tablespoon butter

Lay the bread on the countertop. Schmear one slice with Dijon mustard and the other with brown mustard. Place one slices of cheese onto each piece of bread, and top with salami; close the sandwich. Spread the butter on the outsides of the bread slices.

Place a skillet over medium heat and cook the sandwich in it for 2-3 minutes per side, until the bread is golden brown and the cheese is melting. Let the sandwich rest for 1-2 minutes before cutting.

Serves 1-2.

Grapefruit Vinaigrette

A few weeks ago, I received an email asking me if I was interested in receiving coupons for free bottles of juice; the presumption, of course, was that I would rave about them.

I like to offer objective opinions about foods and restaurants, and don't ever want anyone to think that I've been swayed by having received a freebie. So I explained that I don't do product reviews, but that I'd be interested in trying the samples if that condition were acceptable. And it was!

So a lovely woman named Tara sent me some coupons that enabled me to try Simply Orange, Simply Apple or Simply Grapefruit juices. I adore grapefruit juice -- if I had to choose a favorite of all the many varieties, it would be grapefruit without question.

I happily took my coupon and exchanged it for a free bottle. Now, other than drinking a glass of it, what else might I do??? I would love to marinate chicken in a grapefruit-based sauce, but I can't have the chicken here in the vegetarian home I'm currently staying at. But with the warm weather of Spring having peered in for a few days, a salad sounded awfully tempting.

And so, I made a grapefruit vinaigrette. This is absolutely ridiculously easy to make, takes a whopping 45 seconds or so to mix, and is vividly bright and refreshing on a green salad. Toss in a little shredded parmesan, some dried cranberries, and even some pieces of fresh grapefruit, and a perfect light meal is ready!

Grapefruit Vinaigrette

1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup grapefruit juice
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
pinch of salt
pinch of pepper
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard

Whisk all ingredients together. That's it!

Pork in Creamy Mustard Sauce

One of Jeremy's favorite meals is not only Atkins-friendly, but it's one of the easiest dinners possible; it also requires only a few ingredients, including the givens of salt and pepper. How great is that for a busy weekend or a weeknight when you're tired after work???

I usually make this with pork chops, but happened to have some ribs on hand so I substituted. Jeremy didn't seem to care, and was just giddy at having eaten "real food" 3 nights in a row (chicken, turkey burgers, and now this). My baby needs me ... :)

It's not too spicy, but has some "oomph" to it. And the sauce could easily be served over chicken, too, I think. I'm not sure what else to say ... this is just good, simple, comfort food ....

Pork in Creamy Mustard Sauce

1 tablespoon oil
1 tablespoon butter
2-1/2 pounds country-style pork ribs
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 cup sour cream
1/4 cup half-and-half
1/4 cup Dijon mustard

Heat oil and butter over medium heat in a large skillet. Cut the ribs in half, then season with salt and pepper; add to the skillet and cook until browned on each side and firm to the touch, about 15 minutes. Combine sour cream, half-and-half and mustard; pour over ribs and cook for 5 minutes until sauce thickens a bit.

Serves 4.

Homemade Green Onion Dip

Awhile ago, I won the most lovely set of spices -- the Harvest Time Gift Set -- from the Savory Spice Shop, care of a giveaway hosted by my friend Karen of Eat Drink Wash Up. I have put the set to use on chicken and pasta and all sorts of other goodies; truly, this was a fabulous thing to win!!! And I recently relied upon it to make a lovely onion dip.

I used two of the four spice mixes: the Tarragon Shallot Citrus Seasoning and the Wash Park All-Purpose Seasoning, each offering a different blend of herbs and spices and flavors and thus each making its own contribution to the greater good. 'Twould be an entirely different species without them!

Tom loves onion dip, which I never buy because I always make my own; there are many things I won't pay for -- chocolate chip cookies, salad dressing and manicures, just to name three -- because it's so easy and comparatively inexpensive to do it myself. Onion dip is on that list of items I wouldn't spend good money for because I can likely do it better. Call me conceited, but it's true!

So, one day recently Tom challenged me to make an onion dip. Ha! That's easy! Sour cream, maybe a green onion instead of white or red, some of the multitude of spices I have in my pantry, and stir 'em all together. It needed a bit of oomph after resting overnight, so then I threw in my favorite condiment (which goes on sandwiches, in salads, on pasta) -- Dijon mustard.

And a star was born, to be served with pretzels or chips or vegetables (not "veggies" -- never "veggies!") or anything else that strikes your fancy ....

Homemade Green Onion Dip

2 tablespoons butter
2 fat scallions, finely chopped
1 cup sour cream
1/2 teaspoon Savory Spice Shop Tarragon Shallot Citrus Seasoning
1/4 teaspoon Savory Spice Shop Wash Park All-Purpose Seasoning
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/8 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

Heat the butter in a small skillet over medium heat. Add the whites of the scallions, and saute just until translucent.


Place the sour cream into a medium bowl along with the sauteed scallions, the raw green parts of the scallions, the Tarragon Shallot Citrus seasoning, the Wash Park All-Purpose seasoning, the salt, pepper and mustard.


Stir to combine well, then cover and refrigerate at least overnight before serving.


Makes 1 cup.

Lotsa Love for Leftovers

Tom and I were finally able to join our good friend (and Tom's former neighbor) Martha for dinner at her house; we'd been talking about it and planning it for ages, but health and holidays kept managing to intrude upon our scheduling. Vivian, another one of "the girls" from Tom's old neighborhood -- where Tom was virtually the only man surrounded by women! -- completed our quartet.

Despite it being a cold, dreary, rainy day, there was such warmth and fun at Martha's!!! We talked about art, about travel, about movies, about food. And oh, you wouldn't believe the generosity of the offerings -- if I had been in "blogger mode" rather than in "friend and hearty eater mode," I would have had to take a dozen pictures to show everything off.

Martha had grilled salmon and a vegetable assortment to perfection; there was a hint of charcoal aura and flavoring, but no singeing or blackening to be found on the fish or on the zucchini, peppers and Portabellos.

There were gluten-free breads that were reminiscent of English muffins and very good; I'd never had them before. There was salad, there were potatoes and yams, Vivian had brought braised escarole, there was tempeh, there were gluten-free date snickerdoodles for dessert ... the fruit salad Tom and I brought paled by comparison to the abundance surrounding it. I am still in awe of Martha's generosity of spirit in providing such an extraordinary feast and fabulously interesting and entertaining evening!

Before we left, Martha also gave us plates full of leftovers. Now, I happen to be a very big fan of leftovers -- whether I'm re-heating and re-serving or whether I'm transforming an ingredient, it doesn't matter. Leftovers are wonderful ways to remember excellent meals, no matter how they're used.

I had debated greedily saving the salmon for myself and bringing it to work one day for lunch. But my conscience won out and I extended it by using it in a pasta dish to share with Jeremy instead.

I love Dijon mustard, and use it in everything from sandwiches to sauces. And pasta sauce is no exception -- especially when I was making a creamy sauce, rather than a tomato sauce. I took some butter, some mustard, some soy creamer (what we had on hand), and the salmon, and turned them into a rich sauce to pour over curly pasta. Jeremy -- who is not normally a fish eater -- told me he'd eat salmon every day if I'd serve it like that!

So many, many thanks to Martha for the truly extraordinary evening! And much credit to her, as well, for her expert grilling technique. I wonder if Jeremy would like this dish as much without that remarkable charcoal-infused flavor in the fish ...? It might be that Martha's skill, rather than mine, is what made him love it so!

Pasta and Salmon in Mustard Cream Sauce

12 ounces medium-sized whole wheat pasta (i.e.: rotini, penne)
1 large carrot, peeled, halved, sliced
3/4 cup frozen peas
1/4 cup butter
3 tablespoons whole grain Dijon mustard
2/3 cup soy creamer or half-and-half
pinch of kosher salt
1 large salmon fillet, pre-cooked
shredded parmesan cheese, for serving

Bring a stockpot of salted water to boil, then add the pasta and the carrot; cook for 9 minutes, adding the peas for the last minute of cooking, then drain.

Meanwhile, heat the butter and the mustard together in a large skillet until the butter melts.

Stir in the creamer and the salt; whisk to combine.

Flake the salmon and stir it into the sauce.

Pour the sauce over the drained pasta, and sprinkle with parmesan to taste.

Serves 4.

Don't Get Hungry at the Hospital on a Sunday!!!

Well, as they say, all good things must come to an end; and the fairy tale involving edible (and even appetizing!) food at the unnamed local hospital I was parked at for the weekend while taking care of a loved one has, unfortunately, followed that adage. Whereas Saturday's turkey lunch and spaghetti dinner received glowing compliments -- repeated yesterday during a survey by the food service staff -- the meal which showed up a short while after the rave reviews were offered was ... well ... truly disgusting.

I can personally vouch for that -- I'm the brave soul who tasted it when our anonymous-by-choice patient refused to, and who tried to figure out a way to bring it home to Fuzzybutt before agreeing with the patient that the dog's digestive tract would likely not benefit from this dish. It wasn't fit for human consumption, obviously, but I'm not sure it was fit for pooches either. And while I was courageous enough to at least put some into my mouth, I'm not courageous enough to feed this to the dog and then sit around wondering whether her intestines might explode. We all know who'd be cleaning up the mess, after all.

The meal in question is Beef Chop Suey. If you are ever admitted to this hospital or are visiting someone there, do not order it. I repeat -- keep away from the chop suey!!! Now, in all honesty, it would not have been on my list of options as I read over the menu; it's not one of my favorites to begin with, and the prospect of institutional Chinese-ish food just does not sound enticing to me. But our patient has fond memories of eating it at an aunt's house many moons ago -- apparently she had a knack for making La Choy appetizing, which is a remarkable feat unto itself! -- and was apparently having a nostalgic moment when it was circled on the request sheet.

But then it arrived. And it was cold -- refrigerated, not just lukewarm from having made too long a schlep from the stove to the elevator to the room. And it was mostly gravy, with a chunk or two of "beef." (I can't promise that the stuff floating in the sauce had ever seen, let alone once been, a cow.) And it smelled bad. And, as you can see, it didn't look particularly mouthwatering either. Our patient refused it outright, whereas I -- queen of not wasting food, whether incorporating leftovers into new meals or feeding my pooch's paunch with things no one else wants -- industriously tried to find a container to bring the slop home in. But our patient's wisdom reigned supreme, and I relinquished my quest for the greater good of Fuzzybutt's well-being, as well as that of my carpeting.

The very kind food server offered to warm up the mess, but that really didn't do it any good even once she'd performed the mitzvah. So she let the patient choose an alternative, a deli sandwich, which was excellent except for having been delivered with no condiments of any kind. I offered to go to the cafeteria in search of embellishments like mayonnaise and mustard, but this was graciously refused, I think, simply for the sake of not wanting to wait any more to stave off hunger.

I had brought my lunch -- a salad of white beans and tuna with tomatoes and onion and carrots, all dressed with a balsamic vinaigrette to which I'd added a touch of my beloved Mustard From Hell (available at Copernicus Polish Market on Main Street in Ann Arbor) -- in order to save some money and also because our patient was supposed to go home yesterday; a simple lunch requiring no heating or refrigeration seemed ideal, with dinner to be determined depending upon our patient's cravings. However, some lab results are still pending; thus discharge has been delayed until today, we hope.

And so, the rice crackers that we'd brought along for snack purposes clearly needed to be supplemented by late afternoon. I'm a good eater -- I needed dinner, which was a difficult prospect on a Sunday. The bagel shop was closed, though I wasn't particularly inclined to eat either refined flour or yeast, two things I make some effort to avoid if possible. I asked about the kosher items, which I know are prepared by Chef Cari in Oak Park; I've eaten her food before at special events she's been hired to cater, and was intrigued by the possibilities of what she might offer for pre-packaged hospital meals. But those were all bought out, despite some very helpful service from a cashier who tried to find them for me but could only apologize for their lack of availability. Good thing I don't actually keep kosher, huh???

And thus, let me show you what my non-vending machine options were, sad as the array might be for you to observe:

Stale doughnuts ....


A salad bar with dried-out pasta and some sad looking fruit ....


A pizza sitting under a heat lamp ... but it's made with a whole wheat crust! (I do have to admit that I gave this one some consideration, in order to get some protein from the cheese.)


Chicken tenders, chicken fingers, some star-shaped hash browns (I think), and some fish strips maintaining their tans under a lamp ....


And two different varieties of bean soup ....


Sigh ....

So after walking by the grill a few times, hoping not to have to resign myself to a burger, I finally resigned myself to having a burger. This picture makes it look pretty good, I must admit; and, in all honesty, it wasn't wretched. But it hardly compares to the burgers enjoyed last week, which I wrote about with such enthusiasm!

Of course, I might not be quite so disparaging had I not witnessed for myself that the beef patties had all been pre-formed -- not to mention pre-cooked! -- then placed in rows in a baking sheet, ready to be plucked up and plopped onto the grill when ordered so that they could be re-heated and further dried out. (This photo op was just begging for me, but the grillmeister was standing right there at the counter and I couldn't very well explain my intentions!) And while I could have ordered it without the bun, at that point I was just strolling down the path of least resistance and indulged in the soft, squishy refined flour bun to complete my Sunday evening dining experience. And I ate the entire thing -- fries, pickle, burger and all ... urp! (Excuse me ....)

Our patient's Chicken Caesar Salad arrived cold, though not quite as cold as the Chop Suey had. The greens looked good, there was a generous amount of chicken and cheese, and the accompanying carrot cake looked and smelled very good. But this was a meager meal, even for someone who generally eats small meals and whose appetite has been compromised while not feeling well.

So fortunately our patient was permitted to meander off the ward once yet another i.v. drip was finished, and we were able to stroll on downstairs to watch the entertaining ice cream vending machine do its amusing job of delivering chocolate-filled ice cream sandwiches. We took them down to the lobby, where there is an art exhibit that appears to be inspired by microbials -- huge, colorful paintings of shapes that appear other-worldly, which make for a very lively display. And considering that our patient has artistic tendencies, this was a perfect diversion after a weekend of tedium and misery ... :)

Here's hoping that there are no further forays into the mysterious workings of the hit-a-homer or miss-by-miles hospital food service!

Still Having Fun While Senility Creeps In

Well, the Docent Invitational Exhibit Reception was held at the Riverside Arts Center this past Saturday night, and I was there twirling in my beautiful new dress in the only pair of high heels that I own.  Jeremy told me that Tom should be sure to let everyone know I'm already taken; and Tom said I looked "like a million bucks" ... :)

But do I have a photo to commemorate my rare and priceless non-officewear, non-jeans, and non-jammies moment?  Did I take a picture of the buffet table that I, of course, meandered over to on "enumeritus" (thank you, "Squidbillies"!) occasions?  Heavens, no!!!  Your foolish Food Floozie switched purses -- bad words that I haven't uttered, literally, in years -- and very inconveniently left her camera at home.

Now, admittedly, the little red purse with sequins was cute, and it was much easier to tote than the behemoth that I usually carry my life around in.  However, while I remembered other critical items like my lipstick and a card bearing the Jewish traveller's prayer (don't leave home without it!), not having brought my camera is really posing (no pun intended -- ha!) some problems for someone who likes to decorate her posts with a little bit of color and with lots of food.

So the one and only picture that I have to offer from Saturday night is the lovely one at the top of the page.  MUCH credit to my beloved, Tom, for taking it before the schmoozing began and further opportunities were lost!!!  But unfortunately, I now have to compensate for the lack of pictures from the actual event by placing props around my home and asking them to pose photogenically for me ... sigh.

Anyway ... let me tell you about those fabulous chocolates that are not yet for sale but will be soon, I hope -- I'll keep you posted when I learn more.  They were made by a friend of Tom's who is a devoted chocolatier in his spare time, after work.  They're raw (only heated slightly, for melting), vegan and organic -- all normally terms that would make me think of tofu and other wretched ingredients not readily placed into my mouth.

But these sinful little tidbits are simply the purest chocolate, with nothing to interfere with your sensual experience.  They literally melt over your tongue as you are transported into a reverie ... I exaggerate not, even though I am admittedly prone to both enthuse and to effuse.  Daniel, the man who creates these magical treats, has located a commercial kitchen for production and is currently networking to seek outlets for sales.  A company name, packaging ... all of those little details are still a-brewing.  But Daniel had better speed up this process, as I steered every one of my guests on Saturday night to the chocolate tray and every single person was nearly in ecstasy from just the small tasting opportunity.

As for the rest of the buffet table -- my vegetable and chip tray with Spicy Mustard Dip (photo taken prior to Saturday night, or else you'd be using your imagination for that, too) seemed to be pretty popular, though no one seemed quite capable of figuring out that the bowl of chocolate stuff surrounded by cookies was yet another type of dip ... sheesh!  Cookies disappeared, but the bowl of chocolate -- bowl of chocolate, may I reiterate! -- was barely acknowledged.  Oh, well -- their loss!  The mini bagels schmeared with a lox-dill cream cheese and then cut into quarters to become bite-sized were also a hit, so I was 2 for 3 with my offerings.

Besides my contributions, there was a Mexican dip in a 9"x13" Pyrex pan that looked remarkably like spaghetti topped with tomato sauce (to my trifocal-ed eyes) until a closer perusal showed beans and sour cream and -- ohhhhh -- shredded cheese underneath the chunks of tomatoes.  It was good, once I figured out what it was!  There was a beautiful cheese tray with very thick asparagus for a garnish (???), lots of fresh fruit, cheesecake, cookies, and more food than I can remember after 4 long days.  (The senility of the title refers not only to having forgotten my camera, but to my inability to even remember why I've walked into the kitchen at any given time, let alone what I ate on Saturday!) There was even a nice assortment of beverages such that I could add dribbles of white wine to my sparkling water, making me feel a bit grown-up in my party dress (but without becoming an embarrassing drunk, since I have perhaps one glass of wine annually and have no tolerance whatsoever).

Tom's father and stepmother drove out to Ypsi from Royal Oak for the event, which was a nice surprise; I'd known they'd been invited, but hadn't expected them to come out.  But as Gary put it, this was a family event and he always shows up for family events ... even though, as Monica pointed out, the Masters was on and her golf-addicted husband was missing it!   Tom's sister Sandy came, as did an old acquaintance from his former writing group.  Several of his co-workers, who are just wonderful, attended -- Daniel (of chocolate fame), Flo, and Sara (whose mom has even commissioned an artwork from Tom after seeing a fabulous piece he'd made featuring a photo of Sara).

Fellow co-workers and very dear friends of Tom's -- Alan and Carol -- had prior commitments and couldn't attend the reception, so they'll get private tours; Carol's will actually be tonight, after dinner at the Prickly Pear (which just happens to be donating 10% of today's proceeds to Alpha House to help the homeless, I might add, which is how it was selected as the restaurant du jour).  I asked Tom to warn Carol that I have the odd habit of photographing my food, so she should be prepared ... though, according to my beloved NYT, I am not alone in this hobby; and I do it for the sake of my faithful readers on AnnArbor.com and Food Floozie, rather than for my own perverse amusement.  Rationalize, and all can be right with the world!

Many of the people I'd invited couldn't attend because they're observant Jews and the reception was held before Shabbat ended after sundown.  But others -- mostly my "bubbes," as I affectionately call the women in their 80s who have adopted me and taught me to play Mah Jong -- came and ate and laughed and, oh yeah, made sure to schmooze with Tom and to fuss over him and to admire his beautiful artworks.  I was thrilled to have them there, and it wouldn't have been the same without their love and support.  I hope they know how special they are to me, and how blessed I felt that they considered this an important occasion to attend ... :)

So, I came, I ate, I schmoozed, I ate, I ate some more, and the reception was a huge success!  Stay tuned for my next post -- "Prickly Pear and Paintings," or something like that ....