Season's Eatings



chocolate covered panettone

I started this holiday week by indulging in chocolate covered, custard filled panettone with my coffee the morning of Christmas Eve. I had planned on said "breakfast" for almost a week, and I was not disappointed.

That night the meatless meal my aunt prepared included baked stuffed shrimp and salmon filet.

On Christmas Day my cousin Kristina prepared beef tenderloin that melted in your mouth.


detox salad

By Monday night I was craving salad. I needed something crunchy and green and fresh that didn't sit beside a pile of creamy mashed potatoes. I took myself out for a salad for dinner and enjoyed every wholesome bite. Yesterday I went grocery shopping for fresh produce so I could stay on salads for a few days in the comfort of my own home.

Which is not to say the season of indulgence is over. It just means that I have a strategy on how to get through the rest of the season's celebrations and excess: one salad at a time.

Gratitude

Last night I came home from my family's Christmas Eve celebration with a journal that Lindsay had put away for me from Donna's things this summer after she passed away. Donna had not had a chance to write anything in it; Lindsay thought I might like it. She gave it to me one afternoon I was there at her condo helping to sort through things and move some things around, but I left it there by mistake. Though I have seen Lindsay since then, she didn't have it with her at those times. Last night it felt like a Christmas gift.

When I got home I wondered how I might use it. What kind of journal should it be?

Still undecided this morning, I saw a piece on CBS News Sunday Morning--which I happen to watch rarely, if ever--about gratitude and mood, and a study in which people who journaled about gratitude were as a result twenty-five percent happier than those who journaled their gripes. At the end of the piece, the correspondent quoted Einstein who said you can live your life as if nothing is a miracle, or as if everthing is a miracle.

Yes. Exactly. What perfect timing, I thought, as I wiped tears away again for the umpteenth time in the last twenty four hours. Someone stepped in and told me to get happy again, to start to focus on all that I have to be happy about and grateful for.

For that divine intervention, and so much more, I am grateful.

Merry Christmas.

The Great Depression

It's been a pretty crappy year. It hasn't been ALL crappy, of course. I've had some happiness this year, too, but I've had more sadness this year than I have had in a long, long time. And I've been really sad lately--profoundly, sit-on-the-couch-and-cry sad. I don't talk about it much with people who didn't know Donna, and I'm afraid to reach out to others who loved Donna in case I happen to catch them at a rare moment they're functioning okay and not missing her. In a nutshell: it sucks.

Feeling bereft has left me without a lot of holiday spirit this year. Despite knowing that Donna loved Christmas and a text from Lindsay early in the week that said "It was mom's fave holiday. She'd want us to do it big!," when I woke up yesterday, on December 14, I still hadn't decorated for Christmas. I couldn't put it off any longer. I forced myself to go to the basement and eventually I decorated.

I'm glad I made the effort. I'm a little more in the spirit now and my house looks pretty. I changed things up a bit: everything is not exactly as it has been for the past few years... but I suppose it never will be. And maybe that was the lesson in this. 

Happy Holidays.

Photo Journal: Boston Offerings for the Bon Vivant

In Kenmore Square, Petit Robert Bistro:

crispy poached eggs with frisee and bacon salad

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In the South End, Stella ("a SoWa restaurant")

(best) Bolognese (ever)

braised short ribs over pappardelle

  In the Back Bay, Legal Seafood


steamers


In the North End, Ducali Pizzeria

pizza with arugula and prosciutto



Photo Journal: Meteorological Winter (Snow Day Season) Begins

...and my lucky snowman has taken his place on my file cabinet.

Let it Snow.

Running for the Phone

The other morning, Thanksgiving actually, someone called while I was upstairs folding laundry. I looked at my phone to check caller ID, but the display was dark; my phone was not working. Oh well, I thought, as I returned to my laundry. I’ll check my message when I get downstairs.

Turns out it was Jill. Five minutes later, I called her back.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” I said, and then explained that I had been folding laundry and my upstairs phone wasn’t working.

“You don’t run for the phone?” she asked.

My honest answer to her was, “God no. I haven’t run for the phone in years.”

Immediately we both started laughing, because it’s the truth, and because it brought back memories of one of Jill’s favorite stories, when way-back-when I replied--with equal candor-- to a doctor who had inquired if I was tired, “I’ve been tired since high school.” Seriously, though. What do you mean tired? Like more than normal?

In the end Jill said I should change my outgoing message to reflect my honest answer.

Hi, this is Joanne. I’m sorry I can’t take your call right now, but I don’t run for the phone anymore. Haven’t since I turned 40. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back.

I think I’ll stick to the message I have now, but couldn't resist giving Jill’s idea an audience.

The Notebook

Thanksgiving is over (and it was wonderful), but it’s not December yet, so I’m not quite ready to get rid of my fall decorations and put up my tree yet. But it is time for The Notebook.

No, this is not a post about that Notebook, the epic love story cum tearjerker motion picture that I admit, somewhat smugly, I have neither read nor seen. I’m talking about a notebook—probably the most aesthetically unpleasing, but most useful notebook I’ve ever had: my Christmas journal.

meal planning on a page

I am a note taker and record keeper and list maker and at any given time I have a dozen notebooks and journals in use. I like to keep one in my purse and one on my coffee table. I have one for recipes and menu ideas that I started when I moved here and finally got cable (and Food Network,!) and one for scribbling down first thoughts for posts. I even have a Betty Crocker notepad for meal planning and grocery lists.

my Christmas journal
aka The Notebook

Then one Christmas season, I unearthed the wrapping paper and gift tags I had bought after Christmas the previous year, when I had just gotten home from buying wrapping paper and tags because I had forgotten said purchases. That same season I forgot I had stocked up Christmas motif napkins and paper plates too, and stocked up again. Clearly, I needed to start writing this stuff down. But in my recipe journal? No. My blog journal? Not there either. Obviously, I needed another notebook. And I found one while I was shopping on line. Again, it’s not pretty, but it is functional.

The journal is set up by chapters, if you will; every year has eight pages. Within those pages two are devoted for a Christmas card list, one for gifts given and gifts received. There is a page for special foods, recipes and baked goods, and a page for notes and memorable events of the past year. Another page has a variety of prompts to write about the weather; parties of the season; decorations and trimmings; trips, travels and visitors. The last page, designated for photos, is where I make notes for the next Christmas season, like all set with paper products, wrapping paper and bows !!, and Make more cranberry vodka: excellent! The latter, it turns out, I already remembered without needing a note. Which worked out nicely on Thanksgiving.



cranberry vodka for Thanksgiving