It Was A Dark & Stormy Night When All The Saints Got Lit Up.

I love these kind of candles. They only cost $1.50 at the grocery store and they are little works of art. I have recently started a collection, and I urge everyone to do the same. They look awesome en masse.If you make it your New Year's resolution to buy one a week, you will have 51 of them by Christmas. Then maybe stop.

Not only nice to look at- they can be a true answer to prayer during sudden Acts of God. Irene was just a breeze thanks to my collection of light up Saints.
I was unaware of my theme until I brought San Jose home to the ladies. It is a sign.
I must go to California at once. It is God's will.

You Are Putting Me On.

I was cleaning the garage this afternoon. I was also thinking that I really needed some work gloves if I was going to make any kind of dent. I was all ready to run back into the house, pour myself a glass of lemonade, and admit defeat.

What could I do? My hands were tied. The only way I was going to do a good job was if I had some work gloves. No sense in doing just a so- so job. As soon as I had some gloves, by golly, I would tackle this place head on with avengence. And so on.

As I carried on in my head, I was feeling pretty good about abandoning ship. I had swept a little and hung the bikes up. Not bad. I needed gloves, that's all. I promised myself that I would return the minute I got some.

I am not sure if this kind of thing has been happening to me all of my life and it is only lately that I have been noticing it, but now it is just getting wacky. My thoughts are being attended to? Is that possible? As I went to turn off the light by the side door, get a load of what catches my eye.

Why Not Take All of Me?

What if we give it away? This was taken in Pultan Bazaar, across from the clocktower in downtown Dehradun,in India. The boys and I met this guy,the most bizarre fellow at the bazaar. He asked me to give him all of my money.

Some man on the street translated for me. He couldn't have said 'all'. Really? Talk about crash and burn. I said, "All?" Yep.The bilingual guy assured me that he had heard the little pumpkin correctly. He translated, "Yes Madam, that is what he said, 'She needs to give me all of her money.'"

Oh, he NEEDS me to give him ALL of my money!. Now that makes sense. I thought he just wanted it. He was insisting on compensation for those red dots on the boys foreheads.He had swooped in on them, out of no where, and thumbed both their foreheads. It wasn't as if they had been waiting hours on end in line for an audience with him. Blessed be to God!

That delusional alms seeker even pointed to an ATM! He was so helpful. According to this beggarprophet, his touch was sacred and worth more than gold. Giving him the entire contents of my bank account would have been a bargain. Imagine this- those dots came right off with soap and water.

He got all sullen and disappointed when things didn't go per his instruction. This fly by night, get rich quick scheme of his had some definite holes. I'd love to see his Plan B. He was ridiculously dramatic. And loud. His righteous indignation seemed so sincere, I just couldn't believe it.

Really? Was he really serious? He HAD to be joking. He honestly couldn't have expected me to, first of all, cross that street, period. The ATM was on the other side of the moon, as far as I was concerned. There was no way. Let's just say that I had been foolhardy enough to take two young children on foot across that congested snarl of lawless traffic weaving wildly around meandering cows and herds of goats (and that day, I think I even saw a pig). I can't remember the street's actual name- and I still haven't forgotten it's nickname, "suicide alley".

Then, let's say that the boys and I had survived our journey to the other side,so to speak. I just don't think the next thing I would have done would have been to start punching in my pin number. For me to withdraw a bunch of money with the sole intent of handing it to a guy I had met five minutes earlier and would more than likely never see again in my life should have seemed impossible, even from his perspective. Really? Was my reaction that far in left field for him? He truly seemed shocked. What a riot. He had to have been joking.

Bad luck, little man. We got in the next available rickshaw, clutching all that we had in our fists. He didn't even get a token offering from us which he probably would have if he hadn't behaved so badly. He was kind of neat to look at. I would have given him something for that.

Pray For Him.

I found an old box of books while clearing out my parent's basement. I saw my mother's worn out Bible right on top. This little clipping was neatly tucked into the pages of Deuteronomy, Chapters 28 and 29. That was the only thing in there.

She is doing this on purpose, just to amuse me. I know it. St. Pat McGowan wants to make me laugh. Please don't miss her notation at the bottom. What a gem. She's an angel.

I Was A Star Witness.

Honolulu. 1996.
Sleeping on the job. Among other things, I was paid very well to watch The Guiding Light with eighty nine year old Zohmah Charlot every weekday at noon. Then we would take a nap. Most of the time, I slept right through her hour long story.

After that, we'd sit on her back lanai to see what famous people were golfing in Kahala that day. I also collected bags and bags of maybe used once Titleist golf balls. Everyday was Easter. Zohmah got into it, too. She could no longer speak, but she excelled at pointing and looking enthusiastic. I had bags and bags of balls, I tell you. Hundreds! Barely used top of the line golf balls and I am pretty sure a few of them used to belong to Bill Clinton. I am positive that this particular stockpile had everything to do with my marriage proposal from Fabio. I was a gold mine. I mean, c'mon.

If we got bored watching the golfers we could take that 4 minute walk to the beach or maybe head up the Kahala Oriental Mandarin Hotel (that was eight minutes on foot (and wheelchair)) for cocktails. We were always bumping into movie stars. We saw a few big names at the hotel. John Travolta, Nicholas Cage, Ben Affleck, Johnny Depp, Justin Timberlake, Cameron Diaz, and a very quick glimpse of Nicole Kidman. I never said a word to any of them. It was so bizarre to see their strangely familiar faces pop up out of nowhere on a Tuesday afternoon,say. I guess that's where they stayed. I would always just look at them and think, 'you are stinking rich, you lucky bastard.'

I really wanted to go up to each one of them, separately, and say, "Don't kid yourself, hotshot. Acting is so overrated, and actors are so overpaid." Yeah, right. I never did approach any of them with my insightful-on the money- commentary, and why is that? Because it is not polite to insult rich, powerful, and good looking people.

They could- still can, I reckon- afford every luxury available without a worry in the world. Imagine that. If that ever became my well travelled day to day, I bet that I would behave differently as well. Who among us feels like throwing the first rock? I mean really. You would be weird too. Those headliners all had a way, kind of the same way, too.

Magnum PI's, all of them. They had a casual air of Practiced Importance. A sense of entitlement had crept into their vernacular, and their grand scale life -that 'Hollywood Life'- had (has) for them, become a given. They are suddenly really, really into to only the finest things, and it's totally cool. They can be. The absolute best of everything has become commonplace and expected. It is entirely affordable. They are spoon fed and doggedly encouraged. Celebrity cash cow. Just let the assistant handle it.

They would never, ever say 'Look at me. Aren't I great?' They can't even do it as a joke. It isn't that funny to anyone else.They would sound like ego ed out jerks because they would mean it. You can bet your bottom dollar that 'Look at me. Aren't I great' is on a running loop in every one of their wigged out heads. They just can't say it out loud. That would be gross and kind of pretentious. They aren't stupid. They are just lucky, and rich and usually beautiful.

I sound like sour grapes and I don't mean to. I am not really jealous, I am more intrigued. Honestly, good for them. Bravo. Encore. Whatever.Someone has to get chosen. It is so arbitrary. I mean, God bless her, but Renee Zellweger? Who decides these things? Some people just get lucky and I think that they might really believe that they earned the lap that they find themselves in. They forget that their real god given talent
is plain old L-U-C-K. luck.

Those lucky little rock stars. They all have that... how do you say? Jenesaisquoi. No, 'Haughty Humility',is what I'll call it, if such a thing exists. It's not even their fault. I'd be the same way. Anyone would. That must be mind numbing as well as ego inflating. They aren't thinking straight, and they probably never will. I'll say it again- I hardly blame them.

These movie stars were the opposite of rude. They convincingly appeared embarrassed while being escorted to the front of the line. They graced us all with a few hellos, after all. OMG. He looked at me. He said hello. What? I just kept thinking, 'Who are they?' Why does their presence excite me so? Why am I NERVOUS?' These people walk into rooms like that everyday. Rooms filled with speechless little nutjobs just like me. All that silent, astonished staring. Their heads must be balloons. It would be hard not to have an over inflated ego at this exchange.

Now, Jim Nabors, Tom Selleck, and Charo were par for the course, if you will. No big deal. We exchanged normal, neighborly hellos and nice nods. I used to see those three all the time at the grocery store. We shopped at the same Star Market. Charo wore high heels and a high ponytail; and she was still strutting some high water booty too, at 65. She never disappointed. Her way was refreshingly real, oddly enough. Coochie coochie coo.

I do have a cute Ben Affleck story though. I was driving down Kalakaua Ave in Waikiki, totally out to there pregnant with one of my boys. Mr. Affleck put me in such a tizzy, I can't remember which boy. I kind of recall baby Owen being in the back seat which narrows it down some.

I had the windows down, it was a beautiful day of course.
I was listening to Springsteen's Rosalita pretty loudly.
I heard a beep.
Ben Affleck pulled up beside me and waved.I literally got nervous and then I got mad at myself for getting nervous. I waved back, sort of. I tried to act cool. He waved again.He gave me the thumbs up! What? We kept passing each other and he kept smiling at me.

When I got home, I told Fabio all about it, "Either I look awfully cute eight months pregnant or Ben Affleck really likes Bruce Springsteen." Fabio started cracking up. "Lucy, you have a bumper sticker that says 'Save Fenway Park' and you are driving around Honolulu." I Ben had.

Oh Lord. I didn't mention Jack.
Jack Lord. He loved an ascot.

Speaking of men's fashions, I also met Richard Chamberlain at a necktie display in the Ralph Lauren store at the Ala Moana Shopping Center. He seemed nice. He actually acted a little uncomfortable with himself, could have been a bad day.I hear everyone gets them. He was smiling way too much to mean it at all.

And there was Roddy McDowall one table away at California Pizza Kitchen in the Kahala Mall when my oldest was just 3 days old. Roddy got an earful from two old Japanese ladies giving me hell for bringing a baby that young outside in the world. "He should be swaddled at home" were their exact words.

Owen's doctor's office was in the mall and I did not feel like cooking. I tried to tell them to lay off, but I started crying instead. After they left, Roddy said that they had been "uncalled for." Roddy come lately, after the fact Roddy. Thanks Roddy. Roddy didn't make me feel anything. I wasn't excited and he didn't make me nervous. I had just endured 23 intense hours of labor 3 days prior. Maybe I was just tired.

Don't Quote Them.

.
This is in a frame in our downstairs bathroom. I usually HATE those drippy frames with wicked sappy sentiments. This particular picture looks so at home above:

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams.
Live the life you have imagined."

I guess I shouldn't be calling the thoughtful words of Henry David Thoreau "wicked sappy."

But really-etching ANYONE into a 5X7 silver frame for sale at Target kind of hollers uninspired. The brightest minds always sound stupid. Maybe not stupid- rather, forced. He's just another Helen Steiner Rice. Whoa- not Thoreau! I don't mean it.

A Bargain At Any Price.

I used to work in a kitchen supply store in Honolulu where all the employees received a 45% discount. Unheard of! I applied for the job immediately after overhearing an Executive Chef employee discussing his perks over coffee with a party far less interested in what he was saying than I was. I hung on every word. That was Mark Rosa. He ended up as my co-worker and became a good friend to Fabio and me.

Executive Chef was my first job as Mrs. Cuseo. Those were the days, my friend. Fabio and I had an airy and affordable 2 bedroom apartment with a panoramic view of the Pacific Ocean. We could see Diamond Head and Waikiki. Oh! Those were the days. I thought they'd never end. Fabio was doing well, making pots of money while busied myself making pots of pots. We still had thousands in savings from our wedding. Our unborn children were not in need of braces just yet.

I never really brought home a paycheck. Occasionally, Fabio would ask me to treat my gainful employment with more of an eye toward bringing home actual money and less like a bartering post in the wild wild west. Look Fabio! I worked 35 hours this week and only see how it translates!. We have a a brand new pizzelle maker! Not only that,take a look at this pot rack and 10 inch frittata pan! Fabio knew that I couldn't help myself. He also knew that we may as well grab what we could - while the grabbing was good. He knew all about my agenda. I wasn't exactly covert. Everyone knew what I was up to.

My kitchen, due to my dogged efforts, continues to function like a babied hot-rod. I won't say 'souped-up' because that would be too precious. Okay, I will give Fabio credit for the stellar remodel- he did that without any assistance from me, but I STOCKED our showroom. In my defense, I arrived at my marriage with a tidy little purse and zero (you heard me-zero!)debt.

The funny thing is, at that point in my life- I enjoyed cooking but I was hardly practiced. I only started cooking in earnest 3 years prior to my wedding when I took a job as a live- in nanny for the Liu Family in Honolulu. The parents, Rosemary, Robin and I had a blast cooking. We took turns. We collaborated. We ate! We ate well. If we weren't eating, we were plotting our next meal. We did not lack focus.

The Lius subscribed to Food and Wine, Gourmet and Bon Appetit.
Every month, all three of us would read them cover to cover,and make a plan and then get to work. We were really into it. We had all kinds of lists. Our cupboards were jammed but we always needed something. It was always something that I had never heard of. All these new ingredients that I was introduced at this time have since become staples in my kitchen to this day. All three of us would grocery shop. We were like little Italian housewives, making our way to daily market. Fresh, fresh, fresh.

Robin worked next door to Chinatown- so that was his department. We could always count on him to show up with a bouquet of wild cilantro or a stump of ginger when we could really use them.

That left Foodland, Safeway, Times, Dai'ai, and the two health food stores, Down To Earth and Ko'kua Market. We made frequent stops at everyone of these stores. We bought only the best. Their dime. It wasn't cheap. We all learned a lot.

Quite a few of my very favorite recipes come from those meals. There is an eggplant /red pepper/ chickenpea stew that I serve over rice, I have an oft used recipe for mustard chicken that calls for panko. I was well versed in panko WAY before panko was cool.




We slaved over flat out failures too.


I came to the conclusion early on that the secret to impressive results is to,first, read a recipe from start to finish to determine if it is worth the effort. If so, the next step is to gather every single ingredient that is called for into a central location. Absolutely take attendance. The biggest secret of all is to follow the instructions.I am talking about cooking times, oven temperatures and ratios. You should definitely mess around with ingredients and flavors. Occasionally, I will run into completely unnecessary and sometimes disorganized steps- but usually- especially in baking- you will fail miserably if you try to put a personal spin on time tested classics.

When I met the man of my dreams, I moved out of the generously equipped Liu kitchen. That kitchen was stocked with time saving appliances that were in continual heavy rotation. The ingredients that I became accustom to working with had spoiled me for ill suited substitutes (they left a bad taste in my mouth). I moved into my bachelor boyfriend's house. It was handsomely furnished. The living room,dining room and bedrooms were fully appointed. Art on the walls. Books on the shelves. The whole place looked lovely. Now let's see the kitchen.

That kitchen was such a cliche. Fabio swore that the slow cooker saw some action, but I bet him that his drawer full of take out menus saw even more. Fabio had one cast iron skillet(and I found THAT with his camping gear- far, far away from the kitchen). He did put one short cord appliance to daily use, good old 8 cup Mr. Coffee. What a man. His refridgerator was stocked with the obligatory imported beer, cold cuts and bread.

The way I saw it, I really had no choice, as a brand new bride, but to sell my services in exchange for shiny things like a KitchenAid Stand Mixer and a complete set of Henckel's knives. Please understand and admit that you would do the same. This was a 45% discount. This could not be denied. I had applied for the job with a fully disclosed (at least to my husband) agenda. I was doing this for our family! I worked at Executive Chef until 2 months before I gave birth to my first son. Our kitchen was applianced and gadgetized to the gills by the time that I bowed out of the work force to bring up baby.

A cruel life lesson was learned due to my all encompassing need to take fast and full advantage of what had all the outward appearences of being the deal of a life time. This little bounty of mine had the hallmarks of being too good to be true. It was. It was too good to be true. We didn't stay in Hawaii. We moved to Providence, Rhode Island. Whoa. The price of Paradise! I'd say the average cost of major kitchen appliances,pot racks, and hell! even dish towels- on the mainland is about 35% to 50%less than you would pay in Hawaii. Please don't talk to me about the cost of shipping. We were robbed!

But , honestly, I would certainly not enjoy cooking and baking nearly as much as I do right now had I shown restraint. I never would have purchased half of these well worn gizmos that I have come to look upon as outright neccessities. Everything that I "just had to have" has afforded and continues to afford affords me luxurious shortcuts without sacrificing quality. I was an excellent salesclerk, by the way.

I loved my job. Sometimes I didn't do my job. Sweet old ladies would come in looking for that colorfully packaged garlic odor removing piece of stainless steel. It was $7.99 before tax. This was in 1998! I would pull them aside and explain in hushed tones that a stainless steel spoon, or even a faucet, was just as effective in eliminating the smell. I didn't tell everyone. I would let the rude, the arrogant and show offs with obvious means plunk down the dough on the useless gadget. Oh! The power! (Be wicked,wicked nice to your sales clerk every single time, because you never know.)

We sit down as a family every night and we eat dinner at the table. We eat well thought out, well balanced meals. We do this because I charged ahead in a mad panic and mistakenly and repeatly went over budget outfitting the heart of my home. All Clad for every hook! Knock -Off's need not apply! I made all these purchases over 10 years ago. I swear, my heart still skips a beat everytime I enter my kitchen. I know that I can create. I know where my tools are.

I paid close attention to detail. I cannot use my weird gadgets enough. I look for ways to re-invent the zester. It would have been a shame if I had purchased all of these items (at seemingly rock bottom prices) only to take advantage of a "deal". If saving money had been my only motivating factor than this whole debaucle would be a bust. Sure, I would have stacks of helpful tools at the ready and on display but what for?

I love that my kitchen starts everyday with clean counters and fresh pans and I love that at some point during each day my kitchen looks completely overwrought. I love my working kitchen. There is nothing in my kitchen that isn't used on a regular basis save the turkey baster. I have read every instruction manual I own. I have studied them. I also study my library of cookbooks daily. I look at mealtime as a chance to make something interesting and tasty. It is part thrills and spills.