Holiday Stress

 A few weeks ago, my friend Bonnie showed up at my front door with coffee and donuts from Tim Horton's and a horrified look on her face.  "Come on in Bonnie*, what's wrong?"   We settled in at the dining room table, and she said "My family is having a homemade Christmas this year."  Bonnie reached for a donut.  "Oh,  that sounds nice!"  I was relieved for a second, "Oh wait, do you have to cook?"  Bonnie looked at me with sad eyes. "Yes, and it's not allowed to be premade, store bought, or  out of a box.  They are doing this on purpose.  My family hates me! Especially my sister, Betty-Martha-Stewart!* This was her idea! She wants me to look bad again!"  She said bitterly as she brushed crumbs and powdered sugar off her chest furiously. For those that don't know, Bonnie could be a contender as the worst cook in the state, maybe even the country.

"Your family doesn't hate you."  I said automatically.. "I can help you with this.  We can find easy, foolproof recipes, and you'll be fine. What are you supposed to make?"  I smiled reassuringly.

"My assignment is a soup AND a dessert!  Everyone is bringing  soup and either an appetizer or a dessert, I got dessert.  How am I supposed to make a dessert that's not out of a box?  I didn't even know there was such a thing!"

We googled "easy soup recipes" and  "no bake desserts" (For those of you new to this blog, Bonnie uses her oven for storage) and came up with a game plan where she would only have to cheat a little. 

The party was over the weekend, so on Monday,  I called Bonnie to see how it went.  Bonnie sounded upbeat.  "It started out bad because I forgot to plug in the crockpot."(I had let her borrow mine, and had explained what it was, and how it worked.)  We had planned a fool-proof  spicy tomato soup where basically, everything was dumped in to the pot, heated, and then garnished with tortilla chips.  "Oh" I said "You mean when you got there?"  "No" she said, "I mean I forgot to plug it in period. It worked out though,  because everyone started dipping their chips into it right away. They just  thought  I made a ton of salsa. My nephew even asked for the recipe!" Bonnie marveled.

 "Well, hey  that's just great!" I said, "and the dessert?" We had come up with a trifle recipe.  This is where we cheated with a store bought angel food cake.  We decided that nobody would call her on it, and that actually baking something was too risky. We couldn't chance burning down her house during the Christmas season.  Bonnie said,  "Well, I decided to double up the whipped cream, because who doesn't like whipped cream, I probably should've beat it longer because it was a little watery, but I was getting so tired of stirring! "Did you use mixer?" I asked. "No. What's that?" Bonnie asked.  "Never mind, go on." I said.  So Bonnie continued. "So then,  I also decided to put it all together ahead of time, so I wouldn't need to bother with it once we were at the party.  I stuffed it in the refrigerator as soon as we got there and figured it would be ok."   I mentally groaned.  "How did that go?"  I asked.  "Great!" she said enthusiastically.  They thought I made  dessert soup on purpose!" Bonnie paused to take a breath, and then continued.

"Betty made a  flaming baked Alaska in the shape of a Christmas Tree! She was pissed because everyone  seemed to like my dessert more, or maybe the were just tired of her showing off all the time! Betty made us turn off all the lights when she brought her dessert out!  They said I was clever to make an appetizer, soup, and a dessert in two dishes.  They didn't know I had screwed up everything!"  Bonnie sounded so happy!

this is how Bonnie's trifle was supposed to look

"I'm sure Betty wasn't mad." I said.  Betty is usually a very nice woman. I'm friends with her too.

"Really?" said Bonnie "On our way out,  Betty said "Wow! Nice Job. What made you think to put cold salsa in a crockpot?" she said it kind of snotty, so I got a little flustered and told her it was your idea."

"And there's more." said Bonnie. "They want to do this again next year! I told Bobby* (her husband) that we're going on a cruise instead! I'm not going through this stress again! I really don't know how people do this every year!"




*not their real names

Fussy Eaters

I was a fussy eater growing up.  I remember sitting at the dinner table for four hours once, because I refused to eat brussels sprouts.  They had an unfortunate way of floating to the top of the milk glass, which was one of my usual ways of hiding food I wouldn't eat, so I was busted.  Dad said I had to sit there until I ate them.  I don't remember exactly how the standoff ended, but I know I didn't eat the damn things. 

Top view of a Brussels sprout in milk

Side view. See how it floats?

The list of foods I didn't like and wouldn't eat was endless. I threw out countless sandwiches in the school cafeteria, because my mother seemed to think I would suddenly eat meatloaf or liverwurst or tuna salad when she wasn't looking. I was perfectly content drinking my milk and eating my one piece of fruit, if I liked the kind she gave me, and the snack pack pudding that was always also included.

To say that I would eat "if she is hungry enough" didn't work in my case, and I was perfectly healthy on my diet of pudding and grapes.  As a result, I was fine giving my own daughter peanut butter sandwiches, no jelly,  every single day for lunch when she was in elementary school.  I often pulled my hair out trying to come up with dinners she would eat, but I understood.  Today as a college student,  she eats many, many things she wouldn't eat when she was younger.  I take no credit for that. I eat a lot more foods now too, except I still won't touch a meatloaf sandwich. I think people will try things when they're ready, or........

Which brings me to today.  My friend Brenda called me in a panic.  "We've been invited to dinner at an Indian restaurant by Dan's boss, so we have to go! I've heard it's so spicy, it'll blow the top of my head off!  And what if I accidently order goat, or mutton, or is that the same thing?  See I don't know!" Brenda was almost crying.

"Relax Brenda."  I said soothingly.  "First of all, the menu is in English, so you can't accidently order goat.  Also, you know I love Indian, so you might too.  Just order any chicken dish, mild.  It's comes with a side of rice and order some naan.  That's Indian bread and it's delicious.  I think you're going to love it, but just in case, toss a can of snack pack pudding in your purse, and you'll be just fine."

Naan

Adventures at Wegmans

My friend Bonnie, has a twenty something son, who recently moved into his own apartment.  Let's call him Sherlock. Yesterday, Sherlock called his mom for some advice.  He said, "Hi Mom!   Tyler ran over a rabbit this morning on his way home from work, and he wants to make chili or something out of it." Tyler is Sherlock's roommate.
"What?" Bonnie was horrified.  "Is this a joke?"
"No Mom, I'm serious.  I know you're an awful cook, but we didn't know who else to ask.  You might have a cookbook around someplace, right? And before you say anything, I know they have rabbit on the menu at some fancy restaurants!"
"Sherlock, for god's sake! I don't think you two should be cooking and eating road-kill! I highly doubt that restaurant's serve highway accidents on their menus!  And no, I don't have any cookbooks that have  rabbit recipes."  Actually, she only has one cookbook called "Duncan Hines and You".  It was printed in 1958.
"Never mind Mom.  Tyler's googling it now.  He says we're going to make stew."
"Well make sure he googles "rabies" and "wild rabbit diseases" while he's at it.  I don't think this is a good idea!"
"Mom, I'm sure that boiling the rabbit will kill any germs it has.  We're off to Wegmans! Thanks!"

Bonnie received this picture and a text a little while later.

The text said " LOL. I wonder who's it is! And why is it spotted?  Hahaha." .


And then, a few minutes later.

 "Wegmans has everything!"

 

 

 

 

 

And after that:

 "Too bad Tyler didn't run over a couple of these!"

 

 

 

And then finally:

"This looks like those meatballs you tried to make once! Somebody canned them!"

 

 

This morning, when she hadn't heard from Sherlock, she called to ask how the stew turned out.  "Oh, sorry. I thought you heard the fire alarm. (Sherlock and Tyler live around the corner.)  We made the stew, put it on the stove,  and then got distracted by the hockey game.  By the time we smelled it,  we burned a hole in the pot, and it made a mess all over the stove.  Mr. Moore ,the Fire Chief, says hello! He said my kitchen skills must be genetic. He said I should only cook things outside, like Dad, and only then, if I'm away from trees. Mr. Moore said its good that I have learned how to man a fire extinguisher early in life. I laughed and said that I've had my own since I was three.  There was no real fire though, just  tons of smoke!  And don't worry!  We ate.  We bought some subs at Wegmans just in case. See, I did pay attention to the important things!"   

 

Me: "Where do you want to eat tonight?"

Exceedingly good-natured husband:" I don't care, you pick."

Me:"I don't know what I want.  I'm looking for suggestions.

Good natured husband:  Well, I'm up for anything.  It's ok, you pick."

Me: "I said I'm looking for suggestions."

Slightly impatient husband:"I picked last week, it's your turn."

Me: "No you didn't. We had Mexican because you wouldn't pick then either."

Obviously impatient husband: "Every time I pick somewhere, you shoot it down!"

Me: "That's why they're called suggestions.  What are you in the mood for?"

 Nearly at wit's end  husband: "Fine, let's go to that new seafood restaurant."

Me: "Nah, I'm not in the mood for that,"

Irate husband "Son of a bitch."

Me: " I don't know why you get so pissy! Really, I just would like some help choosing sometimes!"

Long-suffering husband: "This is why I don't pick.  We're going to go where you want anyway!"


Have you ever had the above conversation with your significant other?  People have asked why I started the WNY food and restaurant group on Facebook, and now this blog. This was definitely a contributing reason.  I would love to say that we don't have this conversation anymore, but it wouldn't be true.  It actually happens more often, because now, when we go out with friends, they always say. "You pick.  You know where all the good restaurants are."  So the following occurs.

Me: "We are going out with (insert names here) next Friday.  Where should I suggest we go?"

Already surly husband: "I don't care."

Me: "Yes, you do.  Come on, I could use a little help here."

Husband mumbles something under his breath.

Me: "What? What was that? I couldn't hear you. Seriously what kind of food do (insert names here) like?"

Defensive husband: "How the hell do I know? They like food."

Me: "Ok, ok, but do you think they would like Thai? (insert name here) is a fussy eater."

Petulant husband: "Ask them!"

Me: "There's no need to shout.  They said wherever we choose is fine with them. So where should we go?"

Dismissive husband: "Let's just go to a steak restaurant.  Everyone likes steak."

Me: "We  just had that a month ago with (insert names here).  I know, let's go to that new place that just opened.  Everyone seems to love it!"

Defeated husband: "Kill me now."

My friend, let's call her Bonnie, is a terrible cook. She has been known to put on a pan of water to boil, and then forget about it for hours, until all the water evaporates and the pan itself starts to cook.  Her husband, Bobby says that in their house they don't have pot roast, they have roast pot.  He can't cook either.  Here's a few examples of Bobby's cooking prowess.  He says he doesn't like to cook hot dogs on the grill, because "they roll off all the time." He was also unaware that lighter fluid is unnecessary with a gas grill. He once made me a cheeseburger and forgot take off the plastic cheese wrapper. "I didn't know you were supposed to!" he joked.  Cooking on the grill is the only cooking he has attempted, because "if there's a fire, it'll be outside."  Out of all my friends, they, by far, have the cleanest kitchen. If they go anywhere near it, their dog starts to chew it's own tail. They use their oven as extra storage space. Bonnie accidently set off the self-cleaning setting once and cooked a blanket. (I've changed their names so they remain my friends)

Bonnie and Bobby, as a result, eat out quite a bit. One of the places they love, is Athena's on Young St,  in the city of Tonawanda.  Athena's  is a friendly, "Where everybody knows your name"  kind of place that always has good, stick to your ribs, home style comfort food at an affordable price.  They offer a broad menu, that includes souvlaki, pork chops, meatloaf and mashed potatoes and breakfast all day, and daily specials.  They have the meals Bobby and Bonnie would cook for themselves at home, if they could, but Athena's does it for them. The waitress might calls them "sweetie" or "honey" and they like it.  She wants them to have a good meal, and wants them to come back. They have dessert racks with pie, and there is always another waitress wandering around with a coffee pot offering refills.  Athena's doesn't have a website, but they do have plenty of loyal regular customers, mostly from the neighborhood. They also have many long time employees, because it's a fun place to work.  At peak times during the day, there is often a wait for a table. 

Athena's, and neighborhood places like them will never make the top ten list of area restaurants, but they easily make the top "place to go" list of their many regulars. Just ask Bobby and Bonnie. At Athena's  everybody does know their names.  Their real ones.

Athena's Beef Souvlaki