alyssonwonderland

8 posts
Slow on the uptake. Quick on the draw

Palm Springs and the Mid-Century Modern Eye Candy

I miss the desert. I miss the quiet and the calm. I miss driving down the 111, feeling the stress of Los Angeles melting away, along with my clothes and inhibitions. The heat was oppressive and comforting all at once. You didn’t have to be bothered. Bothered by neighbors, street noise, traffic or getting dressed. Being in the desert felt like our own tropical island getaway, the antithesis of living our “during the week” lives in Los Angeles. Continue reading

Divorce: The End of the Beginning?

It took her only 24 hours. 24 hours to turn our lives upside down and change everything. 24 hours to wipe the whole slate clean.

My mother had recovered fairly quickly from the divorce. At least to the point that she was able to function in day to day life and put forth a brave face for her daughter, who, incidentally, did not recover quite as quickly, nor really understood exactly what had happened to their family. Continue reading

CrockPot-o-Rama!

Some of you may hear me sing the never-ending praises of my favorite kitchen tool on a regular basis. It is a gift to newcomers and experts alike. It does not discriminate. It could care less if you know your amuse bouche from your ass; if you can shop, chop and read, you’re good to go. See, the magic pot only has four settings; off, warm, low and, of course, high (for those in a hurry). But, its capabilities are seemingly endless. Who knew you could make good lasagna in a slow cooker?

Some helpful tips for using and abusing this ’70s culinary masterpiece:

1. If the recipe calls for veggies, I try to add them as late as possible to preserve the nutritional content. If you want to get fancy, you can blanch the vegetables before adding, but this seems to defeat the “one pot” philosophy.

2. If you are increasing/decreasing the size of the recipe, don’t forget to alter the time accordingly. You laugh, but no one likes brown mush (I learned from experience).

3. Dry beans contain phytohaemagglutinin. I have no idea what this is, but it’s toxic, so all dry beans MUST be pre-boiled for ten minutes before adding them to the recipe. You don’t want to poison the dinner guests. Although, if you do, this appears to be the way to go.

4. Remove all fat and skin from any meat in your recipe. The fat melts and, trust me, it’s not pretty nor does it taste good.

For more helpful hints, this is a great site.

Now, for the GOOD part….. Recipes!

This is one of my favorites and is also very simple.

Soy Braised Chicken
Serves 4| Hands-On Time: 10m | Total Time: 8hr 00m
Ingredients:
2 medium onions, sliced
4 garlic cloves, smashed
1/3 cup apple cider vinegar
1/3 cup soy sauce
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 bay leaf
black pepper
8 skinless, bone-in chicken thighs (about 1 3/4 pounds)
1 teaspoon paprika
1 cup long-grain white rice
1 large head bok choy, cut into 1-inch strips
2 scallions, thinly sliced

Directions:
In a 5- to 6-quart slow cooker, combine the onions, garlic, vinegar, soy sauce, brown sugar, bay leaf, and ¼ teaspoon pepper. Place the chicken on top and sprinkle with the paprika.
Cook, covered, until the chicken and onions are tender, on low for 7 to 8 hours or on high for 4 to 5 hours (this will shorten total cooking time).
Twenty minutes before serving, cook the rice according to the package directions.
Ten minutes before serving, if the slow cooker is on the low setting, turn it to high. Gently fold the bok choy into the chicken and cook, covered, until tender, 3 to 5 minutes. Serve with the rice and sprinkle with the scallions.

This recipe for beef tacos is just, well, yummy! I added guacamole and home made salsa to the agenda and eliminated the sour cream. Also, chipotles in adobo sauce have a distinct smoky flavor. If this is not your thing, you can substitute green chiles or fire roasted ones and add some red or green salsa.

Chipotle Beef Tacos
Serves 6| Hands-On Time: 30m | Total Time: 8hr 30m
Ingredients:
3 pounds beef chuck, trimmed and cut into 2-inch pieces
1 large onion, thinly sliced
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 to 3 tablespoons chopped canned chipotles in adobo sauce
1 teaspoon dried oregano
2 bay leaves
kosher salt
4 cups thinly sliced cabbage (about 1/3 medium cabbage)
4 radishes, halved and thinly sliced
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice, plus lime wedges for serving
12 6-inch corn tortillas
sour cream, pickled jalapeño peppers, and hot sauce, for serving.

Directions:
In a 4- to 6-quart slow cooker, toss together the beef, onion, garlic, chipotles, oregano, bay leaves, and 1 teaspoon salt.
Cover and cook until the beef is very tender, on low for 7 to 8 hours or on high for 3 ½ to 4 hours (this will shorten total cooking time).
Twenty minutes before serving, heat oven to 350° F. In a large bowl, toss together the cabbage, radishes, cilantro, lime juice, and ¼ teaspoon salt. Wrap the tortillas in foil and bake until warm, 5 to 10 minutes.
Transfer the beef to a medium bowl (reserve the cooking liquid) and shred, using 2 forks. Strain the cooking liquid through a fine-mesh sieve into the bowl with the beef and toss to combine.
Fill the tortillas with the beef and slaw. Serve with the sour cream, jalapeños, hot sauce, and salsa.

And lastly, a little something apple.

Apple Brown Betty (Crocker)
Ingredients:
3 cups apples – peeled, cored and diced
10 slices bread, cubed
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup butter, melted

Directions:
Place apples into the crock of a slow cooker. In a medium bowl, toss together the bread cubes, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt and brown sugar (you can also add nuts here). Place on top of the apples and drizzle with melted butter. Cover and cook on Low for 3 hours, or until apples are tender.
Top with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream.

PLEASE share your favorite slow cooker recipes in the comments!

ALSO, here are some great links…..

RealSimple– A great selection!
One for every day of the year– (LCL- Did you bless me with this link?)
Great Vegan recipes– You don’t need to be a carnivore to enjoy the Pot!

Happy CrockPotting, people!

Recipes/photos courtesy of RealSimple.com and Allrecipes.com

Divorce: The Dirty Middle

Reality.  It hit my mother like a punch in the gut.  Reality.  Freedom’s ugly, selfish, ankle biting cousin.  She slammed the door on my father and the past but, when she greeted her new found freedom, it let her down.  Freedom meant taking care of a 3 year old by herself.  It meant working full time, finding a place to live, hiring a lawyer, and paying him.  All in a country that was not her own with a language that was hard to master.

Freedom was overwhelming, sometimes miserable, often exhausting.  My mother struggled, I know she did.  I remember a lot of tears, followed by yelling, followed by sleep. My father just made everything worse by fighting her every step of the way.

Before we get to the juicy, albeit crazy, details, I need to explain something to you about my mother.  She spends the majority of her life on a moral high horse.  She will argue a point into the ground and would prefer to always come out smelling like a rose.  She cannot stand, what she perceives to be, any injustice aimed at anyone she knows, let alone her own judgement.

Enter the private detective.  The pit bull lawyer my mother found through a friend suggested she needed “evidence” to strengthen her case.  He knew the salacious information regarding the mistress would only be bolstered by photographic evidence and first hand testimony. So, the train wreck that was my parents divorce, began.

I’ll be honest, I don’t remember much.  I remember it was cold and snowing and somewhere around Christmas time.  I have a vague recollection of the doorbell ringing at an ungodly hour, my mother bundling me up like the Michelin Man and strapping me into my car seat in someone else’s car.  The private detective’s car.

We were going for a ride!  To Switzerland.  Yup, Switzerland.  Which, from Germany in the winter of 1973, was no small feat.  My father had decided that spending the holidays with his girlfriend and her daughter in the snow sounded downright cozy.  And my mother, well, she saw this as the perfect opportunity for evidence gathering.

So, off we went, the three of us in the cold, with cameras in hand and a thirst for revenge in our hearts.  It turned out, however, to be much more difficult than first anticipated.  We were exposed by a friend and my dad moved his whole party to a different chalet.  This, unfortunately, did not come to anyone’s attention until we’d spent an entire night staking out an empty cabin.

In hindsight, I don’t think Magnum PI was really up to the job, but he was all my mom could afford.  Finally, on night three, paydirt!  From what my mom tells me, things were seen, pictures were taken, words were exchanged and police were called.  The three of us beat a hasty retreat and escaped across the border without being caught.  I guess the Swiss do not look favorably upon spying through people’s windows and photographing the action.  Who knew?

Fast forward several months.  We settled into a new apartment, my mom found a job and someone to take care of me.  She purchased her first car (a Citroen Deux Chevaux) and made a few friends.  But, the divorce was still looming large.  There was the matter of alimony and child support as well as custody arrangements.  The custody thing turned out to be the easiest to deal with as my father was not really equipped to raise a child, nor did he have any desire to do so.

The money was a different story.  My parents fought tooth and nail.  To this day, with all the evidence gathered and presented, I am still baffled by the outcome.  The judge presented my mom with a whopping $200/month child support and no alimony.  She was devastated. You see, my father had made quite a name for himself in the commercial photography business thanks, in no small part, to his mistress/rep.  Money was not an issue for him, except that he hated to part with it.

So, after all the craziness and sleepless nights, my mother’s moral high horse was put out to pasture, at least temporarily.  Her new reality was survival mode and she dove in head first.  You see, no one would ever convince my mom that she’d made a mistake, that she was not capable of doing this on her own and being successful.

She was determined to turn the chaos into calm.

Then, one day, when I was nine, my mother made a decision that would alter our lives forever…..

Pits are the pits, or not?

Three summers ago, I was mauled by a pit bull. He tried, unsuccessfully, to attack Nanook, our samoyed/chow mix. She came away with just a bruise and wounded pride, while I spent an entire day in the emergency room awaiting my 12 stitches and staring, in awe, at the three inch gaping hole on my thigh. I could actually see the fat in my leg! The dog who did the damage was a pit mix rescued from Katrina. 2 weeks after the incident, he was euthanized. My heart ached for him. You see, I don’t blame him, I blame the owner. His irresponsibility and outright ignorance of the breed caused one more unnecessary death in the approximately 970,000 pit bull euthanizations in America’s shelters in 2008. Both pure bred and mix breed pits account for 58% of all dogs put down in this country each year. By far, most of them end up at the pound because of abuse, neglect, and owners who can no longer care for them, not because of their aggressive nature.

This overwhelming statistic is almost too painful for me to consider. Although most who were in my situation would automatically take a stand against this breed, I’m torn. Torn because we have a pit mix in our home.

Meet Ugo. The love of my life. When people ask me what breed he is, I start to go down the list; boxer, German shorthair pointer, dane, and…. pit bull. And then “the look” rears its ugly head. You know, that look that says “well, he WAS cute, but now…um, gotta go!”. Some people literally back away so quickly, they trip. Others cross the street when they see him, or ask if he bites, from a block away. Truthfully, when I look at him, I can’t see the scary. He is the most gentle, loving, submissive dog I’ve ever met. His best friends are, usually, dogs a tenth his size and twice his age. With all other K9’s, he’s the awkward kid on the playground who REALLY wants to play with others, but just doesn’t know how. His blind, 11 year old “sister” Nanook, loves him like no other which is no small feat considering she is aloof, at best, with everyone else. I often wonder why not everyone is as enamored of Ugo as we are.

Then, I remember what those people see when they look at him. They see aggression, attitude and a thirst for blood. In short, they see a killing machine. They see a breed that began because of a human penchant for fighting. Not only were these dogs bred for fighting each other, but also for bull and bear baiting. Although, the latter has mostly vanished, the former is flourishing. Every year, 250,000 pit bulls are maimed or killed in dog fights (from HSUS) that earn humans millions of dollars, but are a death sentence for those unlucky enough to be on four legs.

According to Adam Goldfarb, director of the pets at risk program for the Humane Society of the United States, “Dogs are products of their environment. Dangerous dogs are not born, they are created.” Therefore, education seems to be the best, maybe the ONLY solution to end dog fighting and bring the pit bull’s reputation back to reality.

According the the ASPCA, rottweilers and pits (pure and mixed breed) account for a “majority” of the dog attacks in this country, but ANY dog is capable of sinking his teeth into your leg. Here are some statistics courtesy of the American Humane Society:

  • An estimated 4.7 million dog bites occur in the U.S. each year.
  • Approximately 92% of fatal dog attacks involved male dogs, 94% of which were not neutered.
  • Approximately 25% of fatal dog attacks involved chained dogs
  • Approximately two-thirds of bites occurred on or near the victim’s property, and most victims knew the dog.
  • At least 25 different breeds of dogs have been involved in the 238 dog-bite-related fatalities in the U.S.
  • Approximately 58% of human deaths involved unrestrained dogs on their owners’ property

It seems, from these statistics, that certain rules are a MUST (for ANY dog owner):

  • Spay/neuter your dog. This will significantly cut down on their aggression and make them less territorial.
  • When using your dog for security, do not use a chain. This makes them more territorial and, therefore, more likely to strike.  Use a retractable, tethered lead that allows them to move about more freely.
  • Just because you are familiar with a dog, does not mean he/she will remember you. Always, re-introduce yourself by letting the dog smell you and remember to approach with your hand below the chin, not from above.
  • Most importantly, ANY dog is capable of biting you. Just because it’s a pocket pet under 20 lbs, doesn’t mean it has no teeth!

 

In no way do I expect one article to change decades of stereotype and skepticism. All I am hoping for is that my words will help shift the “blame” away from the dog and towards a solution. A solution that provides us with the tools and figures to educate each other about the proper way to care for our K9 companions.

Next time you see what you think is a pit bull, stop and ask. The owners will be grateful for the chance to crush the myth and the dog might turn out to be your friend for life….

Here are some great links to further the cause. They make for very interesting reading:
NPR
The lone Chicago “dog officer” GRAPHIC
Pit bull Heroes

Anatomy of a Divorce: The Beginning

It’s my oldest memory.  I was three.  It was 2 o’clock in the morning.  The knock on the front door would not stop.  It was getting louder and louder.  I buried my head under my pillow, but my father’s angry voice overcame everything.  Everything, until the neighbors called the police.  “He is no longer welcome in this house.  I changed the locks and my mind” my mother told the officers.  This was Europe in 1973 and the cops attempted to reason with her, but it was no use.  You see, my dad had spent 17 years pushing my mother to the breaking point and had finally, and spectacularly, succeeded.  He wanted to be let in, to come home, to be forgiven.  My mom had different ideas.  Ideas of freedom, escape, and a new beginning that, in no way, involved “him”.

He was a Cheater.  In my world, this term should always be capitalized.  It changed my life, my relationships, and my view of marriage and should never be taken lightly.

My parents met in New York City, through a friend, and became inseparable. They married and moved to a beautiful loft on Washington Square in the heart of NYC.  My mother played the happy homemaker and encouraged my father to indulge in his photographic talent as a career. He was a cartographer by trade, but taking pictures was his passion.  He was incredible by all accounts, but NY was overrun with talent and my Dad languished while trying to build his portfolio.

His knack for commercial photography finally reached a friend, who was living a fabulous bohemian life in 1960’s Germany.  He invited my Parents to make the move to Europe, set up studio space, and find a rep to help my father “sell” his talent.

From the get-go, my Mom was anything but excited about this adventure.  “Germany, really?  What the hell am I going to do with myself?”.  But, she loved my father and was willing to do anything to make him happy.  And, in the beginning, he was happy.  His work was well received.  He managed to garner several large commercial contracts with The European Cotton Council, MCM Leather, and Braun, among others.  Most of this was, in no small part, due to his rep, who worked tirelessly to sell my Father’s talent.  Unfortunately for us, she had an ulterior motive… Him.

Their affair began quietly.  My mom is not sure exactly when, but it was somewhere around the time that I was conceived.  The pregnancy was a long time in coming and had been taxing on their relationship, to say the least. Birth control had torn apart my mother’s reproductive organs (wrong dosage) to the extent that my imminent arrival was quite the surprise to the doctors and my parents. The timing could not have been worse, but my mom was thrilled nonetheless. She dove, head first, into motherhood. To the outside world, she had the perfect life. A successful husband, beautiful home, and a miracle baby on the way. No one knew that it was all a facade.

She knew from the very beginning. He showed all the stereotypical signs; coming home at odd hours, distant, argumentative, defensive. My father was the poster boy for cheating. Yet, my mother chose to ignore it all. To this day, she tells me “it was the 1970’s in Europe. Everyone was having affairs. It’s just something you dealt with”. But, she didn’t just deal with it. The mistress/rep was invited into our home for birthday parties and holiday dinners. Her daughter and I were playmates. She was sleeping with my father while my mother babysat. The whole charade was destined to explode and leave two innocent girls in the dust. It was just a matter of time…

My mom won’t tell me what/who cracked her perfect smile, but I am grateful for that instance. The instance she decided that this was no way to live, no way to raise a child. The instance she began to respect herself, her daughter and realize that there was more to this life than taking care of my father while he gallivanted around town like the rooster that ran the hen house. She did not drag on the misery. Her decision was quick and final, almost too practical and calculated.

The story of the actual divorce and its aftermath will need to wait for another day. But, trust me when I tell you, it included late night car chases across Europe, private detectives and a final move back to the States with everything we owned. For this, and many other things, I am proud of my mother. You see, I am a child of divorce and I am a better person for it. In no way do I believe my parents should have stayed together “for the sake of the child”. It was a struggle, almost on a daily basis but, my Mom did it. She succeeded without my father and never looked back…..