I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream For......Seafood??

It's a fact. I love seafood. I dream about lobster, scallops, softshell crab. Why, then, do I live so land-locked? Because I have a phenomenal fear of sharks. I'm terrified to the point of absurdity yet I own shark documentaries. My DVR houses an HD double feature about sharks and dolphins. One of my favorite books is The Devil's Teeth.


Really, fish in general makes me very happy. I get downright giddy over salmon. I love salmon in sushi. I'm sure it has a particular name but I have no idea what it is and at the moment simply could not care any less. My point is this: I made my very first sushi roll yesterday morning.





I had a package of smoked salmon left over from the seafood pizza I made for David.



I added some fresh green onion and my sushi rice and rolled it all up with my little bamboo mat, added some gari (pickled ginger) and wasabi and VOILA........instant gratification. It's so easy for me to feel unappreciated being a housewife and as hard as I try, I just can't force my children to tell me how wonderful I am while they're duct-taped to the couch. It's SO very frustrating. So I make my own music, so to speak. Or rather, I make my own sea food, like this shrimp scampi. My shrimp scampi is ambrosial.




It's really too bad that I don't live sea-side. But as long as there are over 400 shark species sharing my planet, I'm content to stay put. Besides, the chances of a bull shark making its way up the Current River while I'm floating down it are remote.

RETROSPECT

Just settle back and accept that every post from now until April will throw negative juju at the year's first three months. They suck. When I get old I'm flying south for the winter. Come to think of it, I may just stay there. And I may not wait til I'm old. So as I wait for my wheat bread to rise I think back on December with fond memories of all the amazing food that somehow made its way from my heart to the table. And in many cases, to your doorstep.



Mmmmm.....glazed pears. What an awesome taste sensation. Oh well, back to reality. I set up my Fluidity Fitness bar today. "Why the Fluidity bar?", you're asking yourself. I'm short. I like to stretch.



I mailed packages full of yummy things to people all over the country this past Christmas. I don't think I've ever been happier than when I was taping up a box for Eddie, my FedEx man. The whole process was simply a means to instant gratification. And all of you thought I was being nice!



Don't be fooled. There were a couple of culinary disasters over the holidays. Anyone who was lucky enough to get those darling little tins of honey nougat know what I'm talking about. But all in all, Kerri's Holiday Bakery was a huge success.



I'm looking forward to another opportunity to go crazy in the kitchen. But until I work off ten pounds, it's high protein energy bars and whole wheat bread. I refuse to starve myself and I'm actually staying away from diet pills this time. They tend to disagree with my bipolar medication and I get a bit....bitchy. I know, it's so hard to imagine me as such.

Comforts & Joys

When I can't sleep, and I mean when I actually try but can't, I get up and cook. It's 3:00am and I've just pulled scones out of the oven to cool.



Usually, if I'm pleased with the outcome of my lucubratory efforts, I'm able to sleep. There has to be something on the dessert stand in the kitchen or the world seems.....dark.



Actually, the world is dark. The average 25 degrees married with cheerless skies, which is January, gives me every opportunity to make yet more soup. Soup from scratch, I promise, is an instant comfort.



I'm pretty sure that's the best clam chowder in the world. I dare Bobby Flay to throwdown with me and my clam chowder. Of course, if anyone wants the recipe I'm thrilled to share it. The world should be FULL of delicious homemade soup in January. Add a heap of fingerling potatoes, oven roasted in butter and rosemary, and watch me turn from sulky to joyful. Or at least......content.

Another instant comfort, for me, is hot tea. The ritual of "having" tea, with its deliberate process, is calming on its own. The Republic of Tea has incredible herbal blends, not to mention delicious and comforting black tea flavors.



Bree, our resident seven year old, loves culinary history. For Christmas, she received a porcelain tea set with special pottery paints. She recently finished painting the set and we fired it in the oven. She couldn't wait to serve up hot chocolate to the family.





One of David's, as well as most of America's, favorite comfort foods is homemade mac 'n cheese. It's like your favorite blanket in a bowl. Although it doesn't keep well in the fridge, it freezes beautifully. I try to keep the freezers full of good food that can be thrown in the microwave so the kids can eat something other than lunchables (which I think are disgusting). I should also mention that just the other night I was lounging on my bed and looking over gardening catalogs when my big strong husband walked in, looking so pitiful, and said, "I don't know what to eat." This is a perfect example of why I take the time to freeze single-sized portions.



There's comfort in knowing at any time I can dismiss my family with a wave of the hand and they'll still eat well.

David is wonderful about bringing me flowers. He knows that the very sight of them makes me neon. A few days ago he walked in the door with the truly bizarre: January tulips.



And the best comfort for any season, any kind of weather, any mood, any anything..........are pets. They truly do keep us all very, very happy.

Post Holiday Blaaaaaaaaaaaahs

January. What a crappy month. I've always tried to ignore January in hopes that it'll get bored and go away. But here it is.....yet again. It's always been difficult for me to switch gears in the kitchen after two glorious months of baking.



Without a doubt, my 2006 Christmas was a thrilling whirlwind of "Honey, can you pick up six more pounds of unsalted butter?" and middle-of-the-night egg runs. Most people fill their Walmart carts with christmas decor and gifts. Mine was full of baking ingredients.



8 pounds and one month later, here I sit....bored and restless, itching for spring. My gardening magazines and catalogues are piling up but the temperature outside is dropping daily. So what do I do? What cures EVERYTHING? A slow-cooking soup!



Who am I kidding? Soup doesn't cure everything. It doesn't make me any less Bipolar, now does it? Nooooooooo, it doesn't. But when I'm cooking, I'm balanced. I'm patient. I'm in charge. I'm a magician. I'm..........happy.

So for all of you out there who share my January blues....cook something wonderful! Or at least, order in.

Let There Be Coffee

Today is the perfect day to start this blog. I spent a couple of hours last night playing with my new espresso maker, figuring out its quirks and requirements for an awesome cappuccino.



After a period spent pouting, I went back with newfound determination. Then it happened. I broke my Farberware's secret code for crema.



By this time it was well past midnight but I couldn't wait to foam some milk and seal the deal. Within seconds a beautiful cappuccino was right in front of me....right there...at 1:00 in the morning. There was only one thing to do, grab the nutmeg and go for it!



After repeating this act of insanity at least two times I decided to clean and organize my seven year old daughter's bedroom. She'd fallen asleep on the couch hours earlier. So there I was, wired and ready for anything. Anything except......morning. I'm the proverbial nightowl. My husband finally gave up any attempts at regulating my sleep patterns and we've been living happily ever after ever since. But I don't like seeing the sun rising twice in one of my days. It just feels weird. Suddenly, as I sat organizing my 2006 holiday recipe pile, my head swung around and caught a glimpse of twilight through the limbs of our pine trees. I panicked. I crawled to bed and the next thing I knew it was 2:00 in the afternoon. My girls, being quite used to my patterns, are very adept at getting themselves ready for school and off to the bus stop with out any participation on my part whatsoever. For every three mornings I'm up fixing my husband's morning coffee and getting his lunch ready by 6:30am there are two mornings I might as well not be in the house at all.

We have two dogs. Two Boxers. Buster and Hughie.



I woke up to find my living room had been turned into a virtual doggie playground. The kitchen trash had been dumped, chewed and placed carefully up and down the hall, into the dining room and into my bedroom. Hughie, being 6 months old, was on his back, legs in the air with a toy rabbit in his mouth. Buster, being the older and wiser of the two, stood stoically nearby.

"The girls will be home from school soon. They'll be hungry." I stood thinking amongst the trash. "There's laundry to do. I need to take the movies back. The dishes in the dishwasher need to be put away. I should call my mother."

And without hesitation I stepped through the trash, over the dogs, passed the laundry......to my espresso machine.