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10 Legs in the Kitchen

~ Food. Dogs. Life!

10 Legs in the Kitchen

Category Archives: family gatherings

Pork (for Dad), Polenta (for Linda) & the Apple Doesn’t Fall Far From the Tree

22 Sunday Aug 2021

Posted by Stacey Bender in family gatherings, the kitchen

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

apple chutney, polenta, sous vide pork, Three Little Figs Puddletown Pub Chutney

I haven’t visited this space for awhile now and although I’ve had a lot to say, now is not the time to to say it all; I will however, say just enough.

I (we, actually) lost our father recently. I have two brothers and a step-brother, so I really can’t say it was just I who lost my father. My step-mother also lost her husband, of 34 years. Our extended family and many friends, lost a generous man, mentor, confidant, and dear friend.

I don’t feel the need to elaborate anymore on the specifics; they are private, and hard to relive. Certainly, at least hard to speak about here, a space where the focus is (primarily) food, but as it always takes a personal slant, as good a place to continue this journey as anywhere.

My father loved food. As do I (so the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree). Eating is a big part of (all of) our lives. Eating involves many things, such as sustenance, satisfaction, necessity, conversation, controversy, love, happinesses, losses, and so much more…

My dad loved eating. One of his favorite foods was pork. And banana cream pie, and chicken fried steak (I’m still not sure which he liked more), but that is another discussion.

Linda, his dear wife, my step-mother and friend, will eat pork, but, she prefers so many other things more; such as, any kind of vegetable, muesli, crab cakes, basted eggs, duck à l’orange, leg of lamb, and..yes, polenta. The first time I ate polenta was with her, during one of our first outings, just us two gals! We ate at a (then) new place in Pioneer Square called Carmine’s, owned by the late Carmine of Il Terrazzo Carmine’s, which was(and still resides) just across the street from the new place and a block east of my, at the time, loft.

I met Linda at the entrance after work, while Dad was in attendance of a ballgame at the old Kingdom (long before it was imploded). The brick arches, low light and casual air about Carmine’s was in stark contrast to the formality of it’s mothership across the street; a place known by those with old money and (some of) Italian decent. It is still favored by those in-the-know who have been in residence here for awhile. Even us without said old money or Italian heritage.

Linda and I were seated at a booth, down the narrow hallway toward the back, but still central to the fantastic chaos of casual kitchens. We both ordered wine, white wine is all I remember of that. Then the waiter, with dark hair and a thick mustache rambled out the specials of the evening. I had barely heard a thing when Linda said we would take the bruschetta. And so it was then, that I was first introduced to polenta. The special appetizer du jour: polenta bruschetta, which consisted of grilled bread, topped with grilled polenta and a smattering of cheese, surely a heavy dose of garlic, and perhaps herbs? To me at the time, it was a revelation. I wanted to know what this marvelous food was and how I could make it for myself. I have never replicated that bruschetta, but polenta has been in my repertoire ever since I was able to figure out the best way to make it (hint: proportions are critical, as are consistency and seasoning).  

Had Dad been dining with us, he would have asked that the bread be burnt. Dad liked his toast burnt, and the more burnt the better. I share this trait with him, but I am more of a timid toast burner, with tendencies toward the slightly-charred side of the spectrum, rather than the actual blackened end. Actually, had Dad been dining with us, he would have ordered the mussels to start and proceeded to eat each and every one, sopping up the sauce with (burnt) toast. He would have done this, all the while looking across the table at us as he made a crack or two about our plain, uncolored plate of polenta. He would have spoken in his light-hearted, sarcastic voice, right eye lit with a slight sparkle under his enormous eye brow, squinting disapprovingly, with just enough of a snicker at the end that let us know he was having a wonderful time. The waiter would arrive back and Dad would ask him to leave the pitcher of ice tea right before ordering a pork chop, double-cut and sauced in whatever it was sauced in, or served with at the time. To finish would be a monstrous dessert, especially if there was one on the menu with bananas, and especially if it was also accompanied by creme.

The coffee must be hot, the milk in it warmed, and if he were drinking that night, a long pour of whiskey, two pieces of ice and water, just so.

I raise my glass to Dad, and finish with a meal that he would have surely and thoroughly enjoyed, polenta and all.

In fond remembrance of G. Kent Edwards (aka: Dad, Father, Kent, Grandpa Kent, Friend), 1939 -2021 – Salute!

Let them eat banana creme cake!

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Sous Vide Pork Chop over Creamy Polenta, Puddletown Apple Chutney & a garnish of fresh herb salad

French for “under vacuum”, sous vide is a remarkable way to cook and an ironic way to describe my emotions at this moment. I know my father would have loved this pork; so tender, simple and delicious. A large, gregarious man with a huge appetite but simple tastes, this dinner would have made him rave (although, he might have preferred tater tots to polenta…talking to you brother Mark).

  • Author: Stacey Bender

Ingredients

Scale

PORK

(2) 1 inch thick boneless pork rib chops

1 tsp “Stacey’s Magic Mix” (aka: 1 part each Maldon’s sea salt, black pepper corn, coriander seed, cooked in a low oven temp until fragrant, grind fine)

1 clove garlic, minced

1 TB butter and 1 TB olive oil

Herbs (whatever you have fresh or none at all), chopped

POLENTA

1 1/2 cups water

1/2 cup corn meal (preferably…)

1 TB butter

1/2 tsp salt

2 cloves garlic, slightly crushed 

1/4 cup grated mozzarella (optional)

SALAD

Chopped fresh herbs and greens such as:

Baby kale

Thyme

Basil 

Arugula

Green onions

Tarragon (but Dad was not a fan of this herb)

Italian parsley

Instructions

Polenta

Bring the water, salt, butter & garlic to a simmer.  

In a slow stream, whisk in the cornmeal.

Turn the heat to low, continuously stirring until it thickens. Stir in the grated cheese and keep warm until serving.

Salad

Clean and chop enough for each plate to have just enough (this is a personal decision as to how much is needed).

PORK

Dry each chop with paper towel and sprinkle with the magic mix. It should evenly coat each chop but not saturate. Rub this in and let sit until you are ready to cook. As everyone who knows me knows, I am not one to hurry. Dad often ate well past his mealtime.

Heat a pan on high and add oil to just coat the bottom of the pan. Add the pork, turn the heat to medium and scatter the garlic over to sear (a minute or two).

Turn and turn off the heat. You might choose to lift the chops so as to sear the edges as well.  

Meanwhile, fill a stockpot with water, insert your Joule or other sous vide device and set heat to 144 degrees F.

Add the meat and juices to a sous vide bag, add a smidge of maple syrup and seal the bag, sealing out the air.  

Put the bag in the water and turn in the timer.

When done, remove from bag and pat meat dry. Sear in butter, slice and serve over polenta, alongside a nice apple chutney topped with the herb salad.

Notes

At a time like this, shortcuts are necessary and in this case, very welcome. Puddletown Pub Chutney is a chutney of apples, onions, coffee and beer (seriously). A perfect combination for many occasions, I think. It is delicious alongside this pork and polenta as well as many other things. Check it out, I don’t get paid for promoting anything here.

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Fireworks, Firetrucks, Pancakes and the Fourth!

05 Sunday Jul 2020

Posted by Stacey Bender in Breakfast/Brunch, family gatherings, holidays

≈ 3 Comments

Sleepy towns and big parades. The fourth of July is synonymous with fireworks, firetrucks and pancakes. At least it used to be before the summer of 2020. My brother and his Family used to have a vacation place in the seaside town of Manzanita, OR. In winter, a quiet place where you might not see a soul unless you were having dinner at the local pizza joint.

In the warmer months, it comes alive and is filled with the cries of happy children playing on the beach, racing their bicycles up and down the main drag or simply running amuck the way kids do when they are allowed to be kids.

The sidewalks are filled with people and strollers and dogs. Lots of dogs. The people stroll breezily along, dodging in and out of the many shops or carrying boogie boards and kites as they make their way to the beach.

The beach is at the end of the main street, right near that pizza place, which is also the doughnut shop and the coffee stop (next door). All three reside under the same roof with two or three manning the one cash register and a buzz of activity in the kitchen beyond. I have yet to have a better pizza elsewhere and don’t consider it an official start of the day until I’ve sat outside on the bench, with my dogs, my brother and a bag of breakfast. Sometimes a doughnut and cappuccino, other times the breakfast croissant and fresh orange juice. Either way, after a bike ride on the beach, stopping at Marzano’s makes me feel like it is the beginning of a glorious day!

On the fourth of July, all those people could be found at the firehouse, eating pancakes before the big parade. I have never actually eaten pancakes at the firehouse, but I couldn’t help but remember the many years of riding my bike past the sign that announced that particular big pancake feed. The night before, there were already chairs lined up and down the streets to await the parade that followed. It was tradition. I hope it still is.

Yesterday, I awoke to the sound of people walking by our house, in packs. I sat at my desk watching them carry folding chairs.  Some wore masks and some did not.  The chairs  were set up on the corner, just past our street.

Even our sleepy town has a fourth of July parade and this year, even though it was not the usual gathering, the firetrucks, the medics, the police and even the Mayor, did a drive by through the neighborhood, honking horns and sounding the sirens to the delight of the children, young and old.

I couldn’t help but make a stack of pancakes.

Happy Fourth (on the 5th)!

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Pancakes & the 4th

Pancakes, hot cakes, breakfast cakes. Easy to make and perfect for a lazy Sunday morning or a quick bite before heading off to the Fourth of July Parade.

The batter can be used a day or two later as well. The cooked pancakes can also be frozen to pop in the toaster for that quick, off-to-work kind of affair too. Just add syrup, berries or both.

  • Author: Stacey Bender

Ingredients

Scale

1 1/4 cup bread flour (or all purpose flour)
1 TB brown coconut sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp kosher salt

2 eggs, separated
1/2 cup whole milk
1/2 cup cream on top, plain yogurt
1 tsp apple cider vinegar
1 TB maple syrup
2 TB butter, melted and cooled slightly

Blueberries, optional

Instructions

  1. In a large bowl, sift together the dry ingredients.

2. In a medium bowl, whisk the egg whites to fluff and then whisk in the milk, yogurt, vinegar and syrup.

3. Whisk the egg yolks and then whisk in the melted butter.

4. Add the egg white mixture to the dry ingredients and stir just unit it comes together (lumps are okay).

5. Stir the egg yolk mixture into the other mixture.

6. Cover and refrigerate for at least 15 minutes.

COOK

On a hot griddle wiped with some coconut oil or other non-burning fat, plop spoonfuls of the batter spaced an inch or two apart. If using berries, drop the berries onto the wet surface of the pancake now. Let cook, undisturbed, until bubbles form on top.

Using a spatula, flip the cakes over. The tops should be golden. If not, add a little butter to the pan and let it seep underneath. Continue cooking a few minutes more.

Serve with butter and a good-quality maple syrup, or topping of your choice. Grilled pork sausages or bacon and fresh peaches are a flavor explosion not to be missed in these lovely months of summer.

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lamb chop vs. Lamb Chop

10 Saturday Mar 2018

Posted by Stacey Bender in family gatherings, the kitchen

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

Easy Lentils, roast eggplant, Yogurt roasted lamb, yogurt sauce

cove low res

Sometimes, introducing someone new to the family can make tensions flare. Since introduction, the flames have tapered down, but haven’t fizzled out yet. So rather than worry about the sparks, we decided to light a candle instead. A birthday candle, that is.

Zoe came to visit about a month ago.  Yes, another sweet dog in a sad situation in need of a good home.  “Two is a couple, three is a crowd,” Tom said.  “Don’t bring another dog home.”

I didn’t listen.  A trait that doesn’t always work out well for me.

“She’s not staying,” I assured him.  “We are just watching her for a few days.”

Winston was very jealous.  He pouted.  He hid under the bed.

Ginger was very aloof.

But Zoe wanted to stay forever.  She showered Tom and I with kisses and love. So many kisses.

Winston wanted Zoe to go back to from wherever she came.  Harrumph.

Zoe tried to win him over with her charm.  She rubbed past him and tilted her rump up near his face.  Submissively, she rolled over and kicked up her feet in play.  She thought he was swell.

Nothing but pouts.  His once perky ears, flat as pancakes.

Then one day, Winston decided to play!  Soon they were romping and rolling and running around the couch.  On every completion of the race course, Winston would stop and keep looking to me for permission to continue; a big sloppy smile with tongue hanging out of his mouth.

There is some barking.  We are working on that.  There is tension, sometimes; like when Ginger blindly stumbles into Zoe, she attacks.  Or when it is time to lick the bones from the lamb chops . . .  Everyone is happily licking away; two lamb chops, three dogs, four hands . . . (insert dog fighting noises here) you can imagine those sounds.

What happened?  Who knows but two bones went in the trash immediately, one dog skulked off as one was lifted quickly out of harms way.  The third dog, Ginger, was clueless, where did everyone go?

Zoe has wiggled her way into our hearts though and Winston, albeit still a bit jealous, has found that it is kind of nice to have a spry gal pal that plays and loves.

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“Zoe, no bark!!!”

Welcome to your forever home Zoe and Happy 9th Birthday!

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“I like salmon cake!” No lamb for them tonight.

 

lamb chop3

LAMB CHOPS seared with dijon, garlic & herbs

Here’s the deal: I love lamb. Lamb chops, lamb roast, ground lamb . . .  I used to call Buddy “Lamb Chop” sometimes. He was so scrumptious and delectable. We used to kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!  How we miss that kid.

He was also known as “Peanut”, so now that we have Zoe, I think “Pine Nut” seems to be a more appropriate fit for her, since she is half his size.

To make a tasty lamb chop, it can be as simple as sprinkling them with salt, then smothering the little chops in dijon, lemon juice, garlic and herbs.  A hot grill or skillet sears each side, leaving the middle cooked as rare as you prefer.

I use a scant 1/2 tsp of salt + 1 chopped garlic clove per pound of lamb. Pepper is free-flowing  from the grinder and a dab of Dijon mustard with a small handful of fresh herbs. Mint, thyme, rosemary, tarragon or parsley are all good choices.

Drizzle with olive oil, rub in the seasoning and let sit for an hour, covered at room temp.  On a heated grill or a very hot skillet, cook for a few minutes on each side, making sure they are browned nicely before turning them over.

This is wonderful served with al dente cooked green beans, tossed in cooked lentils, tucked over thick, roasted eggplant and a dollop of creme or a good-quality feta cheese.

Alternatively, you can roast a leg of lamb like I did here and serve it tossed in lentils and arugula, as I did here.  Still, roast the eggplant on the side and make the following sauce to drizzle over:

YOGURT SAUCE

This is a super-simple sauce.  All it takes is the best yogurt you can get, plus, cumin, coriander, grated parmesan and cucumber.  That said, I used a new yogurt that was AMAZEBALLS!!!  (called White Mountain Organic Bulgarian Yogurt from Austin, TX).

Mix together the ingredients below:

1/2 cup yogurt (see brand above, or use the best available to you)
1/4 tsp ground cumin
1/4 tsp ground corriander
1 TB finely grated parmesan
1 TB lemon juice
1 TB grated cucumber
Fresh ground pepper to taste

ROAST LAMB, ARUGULA, LENTIL SALAD

So, another way to slice this is by doing a nice salad of arugula and lentils topped with yogurt roasted lamb and roast eggplant.  Not so much a recipe a recipe as a way to serve some great things all together as a meal.  Improvise!

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“Nothing to see here.  Party on!”

end photo

Pine Nut vs. Lamb Chop!

Potato, Po-taw-ta, Tomato, Tom-aw-ta

18 Sunday Jun 2017

Posted by Stacey Bender in at the holidays, family gatherings, the kitchen

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Barbecue Ribs, Classic Potato Salad, Ree Drummond's Ree-yubs

PS_cover shot 1.jpg

There are, arguably, many ways to do or say anything; Point A to point B has many paths, and cooking basics are no exception.  Take for instance, “classic” potato salad.  It can vary drastically depending on where you live or how you were taught to prepare it.  Even “Mom’s Classic” potato salad will be different at Mr Roger’s house than it will be at the Casto residence.

With egg or without, celery or pickles, or cornichon perhaps?  Are there green onions?Mayonnaise versus Miracle Whip (yikes!).  One thing is for certain, potato salad is classic barbecue fare and even if it is not Tom’s favorite, it will always have a place at our table (albeit mostly in front of me).

Then, of course, there are the ribs.!  I can’t image a Memorial weekend or Fourth of July without them.  There are some people who are really serious about their ribs; I mean really seriously loyal; to their region, culture and craft-kind of rib-eating and making; serious business.  Usually it involves that perfect mix of spice, a particular cut of meat, a lot of smoke mixed with a low amount of heat, hangin’ out for a long period of time under cover.  Time can be our enemy, but it can also be our friend!

For those of us that just enjoy the succulent, meaty flavor of tender, tear-off-the-bone meat and are willing to forgo (or simply don’t have) the 18 hours, the proper tools, patience or know-how to do otherwise (a category that I am willing to be a part of), our ribs can be ‘fridge to fork in approximately 3 hours…or less!

They can be rubbed, par-boiled, marinated, or all three.  Grilled, broiled, smoked or baked.

Spicy, smokey, sweet.

Saucy, dry, meaty or lean.

Depending on your region, there is certainly, a predisposition for the proper method, spice and cut.  In my local region, which I consider to be wherever my dinner plate sits, I am happy to indulge myself, greedily, to any of the aforementioned methods and even some of the unmentioned ones.

I love ribs, period!  I have a special affection of the pig-provided kind.  Throw in a plate of potato salad, made using hard-cooked eggs (my only rule) and I am eating my own little happy meal.

When I am the cook, my go-to ribs are usually par-boiled in a flavorful liquid, then dry rubbed and slathered with home-made (or even bottled if tight on time) barbecue sauce.  This is all done usually hours, or days, before I plan to eat them because as they sit, they become even more flavorful.  This makes them a very forgiving treat.

They are slathered and stored on a foil-lined baking pan.  When we are nearing dinner time, I light a grill and sit the ribs out on the counter to come up to room temperature.  They take a 10 minute sauna in the grill with the lid down as the corn (yes, I usually have corn on the cob) cooks too.

After they are heated through, I remove them from the foil, move the corn to the top grate so they are not on direct heat and put the ribs, top down, on the hot, lower rack to brown.  When they have grill marks, I turn them over and brush with more sauce and let sit just a few minutes until I can get everything plated to eat.  More sauce on the side if you like, and Tom does!  It is hard to go wrong, as long as you don’t let them burn, too much, that is.

When I was young, my Mom’s go-to ribs were cooked solely in the oven, uncovered and slathered in peanut butter barbecue sauce (home-made).  They were often not on the bone, also known as country spareribs, which meant, more meat, less bone.  It was a recipe from my Great Grandma Brown.  I could eat piles of them!!

As they were cooking, I used to peak my head in the oven, willing the aroma to encompass me.  Mom would shout out for the oven to be kept closed, so the heat didn’t escape.

I waited and waited, enjoying every moment that I was able to drink in the smell.  I would peak into the oven with the oven light turned on.  I watched as they transformed from pale paisley to a rich, burnished brown.  The peanut butter wasn’t an overly obvious flavor but the depth and richness it offered permeated the meat.

Ironically, I don’t cook my ribs that way, even though if I did, I am sure I would be hooked once again.  Maybe if my Mom sees this, she will make them for me, next time she is in town?

Needless to say,  color me happy is what the (somewhat) recent weekend was about!  Heading off for a short visit with my in-laws during Memorial weekend, I was eagerly anticipating Lois’ ribs; the same she had made for us last year, adapted from Ree Drummand’s, “Spicy Chili Pork Ree-Yubs”.

ree drummand article

Sun-soaked, fresh-air delivered, we had come in from the waterfront after kayaking off Alderbrook Resort on the Hood Canal; even Buddy was in tow (of course).  Ginger, not being a water breed, stayed on shore with Grandma keeping guard of the lounge chairs (a very important task).

PS_B kayak 1
PS_Us Kayak

Two, or in our case, 3 hours in the oven are about the sweet-spot for these ribs that Lois made us on our return.  We passed our time well, back at the cabin, out in the gazebo, fireplace blazing, while munching on smoked trout-filled endive and deviled egg nosh.

It is now sometime between Memorial Day and the Fourth of July; more specifically, it is Father’s Day (Love to all our Dad’s…Kent (my Dad), Tom (Tom’s Dad), John & Bill (our other Dads), Mark, Scott and Jeff (our brothers who are also Dads)…and so on…Uncle Corky, Grandpa George, Tom C. (my Dad-in-law on my brother’s side) and Joe Gildner (our good friend and newly married-off-oldest daughter Dad) and Piotr (our good friend and a really good Dad)…

Oh, and a Happy Father’s Day to my love, the daddy of our furry kids (I’m talking to you, my Tom)!

On the menu tonight is, you guessed it:  Ribs, corn and potato salad.

Don’t worry, the potato salad isn’t for (my) Tom, it is for all you other Dad’s out there that actually enjoy a good potato salad!  Tom will be taken care of too, no worries there, for those of you that are worried.  He does alright.

So, rain or clouds be damn, fire up the grill and let’s get this party started!

PS_cover shot 3

“Castoway’s” Classic Potato Salad – Courtesy of Lois (Bender) Casto

“2# potatoes (I used Russet, but have also used red, skinned ), 3 hard-boiled eggs, 3 rbs celery, 4 green onions.  Dressing: 1/2 cup mayo, 1-1/2 Tbsp white wine vinegar, 1 Tbsp Dijon mustard, salt and pepper to taste.  If too tart I add a sprnkle of granulated sugar.  I boil the potatoes whole, then peel and cube, but you can peel and cube before cooking too. Either works. It’s just a basic recipe.”

I will vouch for this one and basic as it is, the simplicity makes it delicious. Think of it as a little black dress; it can be gussied up, accessorized and taken out on the town or worn on it’s own, in which case, it will stand up for itself!

PS_King buddy

“It sure is nice to be King for a day; so glad I am a Prince!  Happy Father’s Day Dadfy!”

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“Oh Buddy, you are a Prince!  Of course that is only because I am a Princess.”

Old Fashion(ed) holiday cheer!

26 Monday Dec 2016

Posted by Stacey Bender in family gatherings, holidays

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

bulliet rye, Christmas, holiday, spiced old fashion, Thanksgiving

 

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We pulled off the ferry late (one somewhat recent) Thursday night after spending a memorable Thanksgiving on Bainbridge Island at the Gil-wards Holiday gathering.  Tom and I are grateful for having secured two of the most-coveted seats on that Island for this year’s celebration between two households, shared with Family and Friends.

For those of you in the know, Tom and I have had a years-long tradition of spending Thanksgiving beachside in Hawaii, grilling our dinner mere feet from the ocean with our  toes in the sand.  It is easy to be thankful while romping in the clear water and warming in the sun all day before setting up a mini-kitchen on the beach, cocktails in hand.  Grateful to be watching the enormous sun slowly disappear beyond the horizon while simultaneously leaving a magnificent glow of color in the sky for those who patiently stay around.  Grateful for waves serenading us with their gentle rhythm as families, dressed in linens, pass by on their way to the nearby resorts for their turkey dinners.  During those precious moments, we always feel amazingly grateful for our lives here on earth, especially on Island.

This year, as I mentioned, Thanksgiving was different.  It was spent in the company of our Family, on an island that poured rain more dramatically than the ocean waves sang and was warmed not by the sun, but by the love (and heaters) in the home (and on the beautifully curated porch).  This was not a tropical island, but I would not have traded that night for one in the tropics. Not this year!

I was reminded of how important it is to spend moments of meaning with Family (and with Friends that might as well be Family).  As we all sat down to dinner, each of us had a name card at their plate, which I assumed was there to indicate where we were to sit.  It was there to do that, yes, but there was more.  After the meal, we were directed to pass our card to the person on the left and to write something for which we are grateful about the person on the card of that passed from the person on our right.  This would go on until the cards with our names made it back to their original spot.  At the end, we all had a card that was filled with things about us for which people were grateful. How fantastic is that?!

I am not one to write something so quickly, so I am sure to have stumbled on my words and on my pen.  To all of you seated around the table that night, I hope you each know how much I love and adore  you (well, I did just meet one of you but if you continue to make Katie happy, I will certainly love you too).  I am thankful to be a part of your lives and that you are in our lives (Tom, Ginger, Buddy and my (life)).  I am grateful for your guidance (Scott), all of your musical talents (not Scott) plus the enthusiasm to experience it all (known and unknown), including family at all important (or not so important) occasions (all of you)!  Grateful for good food, accompanied always with strong drink as well as witty, entertaining conversation, and of course, love.  Grateful that the kids have all grown up in loving and happy homes with the guidance, resources and community support needed to flourish, love and be their best selves!  And they are all amazing, individualistic and loving souls.

As we are now full bloom into the Holiday Season, Tom and I send our official Aloha, having recently returned from the (Hawaiian) beach.  We are warmed, well-fed and happy for the respite, as incredibly short as it was.  We are most grateful to be back with our pups and in our cozy home.  Just as we held up our glasses of prosecco spiked with pineapple last week, we now hold up our glasses filled with happy spirits and say, “Happy Holidays” and then clink our glasses with an a ‘Old Fashioned’ cheer.

pre-drink-3

HOLIDAY SPICED OLD FASHIONED (big batch)

If having a party, it is a good idea to make a large batch, set it out on the bar with garnishes, glasses and ice for guests to easily pour their own.  I used Spanish orange bitters here, but it is also good with chestnut bitters, or you can use Angostura or Fee Brothers old fashioned aromatic bitters.

INGREDIENTS

3 cups of your favorite bourbon or rye (I use Bulliet Rye)

3 TB spiced simple syrup (recipe to follow)

2 tsp bitters (see note above)

Peel of 1 orange (in long strips)

TO MAKE

Add all ingredients into a glass pitcher and stir.  Be sure to set out craft maraschino cherries and orange wedges for garnish.  The best cherries are Italian, brandy-soaked cherries that can be found in specialty stores.  I use Luxardo brand cherries.  If you are able, use a big block ice cube tray to make ice for your guests so that the drink remains cold longer and does not get diluted straight away.

pre-drink-1

HOLIDAY SPICED OLD FASHIONED (made to order)

If you are making it to order,  which I prefer, simply add a cherry and a slice of tangerine to a glass and mash it with a muddler.  Add a large piece of ice to each glass.  Fill a cocktail shaker 1/2 way up with ice and pour in a healthy pour of your favorite bourbon or rye.  You can make two or three at a time this way; approximately 4 oz per drink.  Add a few dashes of bitters, 1/2 teaspoon of the spiced simple syrup (recipe to follow) per drink (or more if you prefer your drink sweeter).  Stir with a long spoon then strain into prepared glasses.

SPICED SIMPLE SYRUP

Simple syrup is great to use in drinks or sauces that are typically served cold because the sugar is already dissolved when you add it to the ingredients.  The traditional syrup consists of one part water to one part sugar, brought to a simmer and left to cool.  This is no different except that the sugar is slightly reduced (because I try to consume less sugar) and there are spices added to the simmer to infuse it with a little bit of the holiday spirit.

INGREDIENTS

1 cup water

3/4 cups (or 1 cup if you prefer) pure, unrefined coconut sugar (or raw, natural sugar)

1 cinnamon stick

1 cardamon pod, slightly smashed and lightly toasted (in the oven or in a pan on the stove top)

3 pieces candied ginger

A few shavings of freshly-grated nutmeg

1/4 tsp ground cinnamon

2 cloves

TO MAKE

Add all ingredients to a saucepan and bring to a light boil.  Reduce heat to simmer for 1 minute, then turn off the heat, remove the pan from the stove top and allow to cool completely.

When cool, press on the ginger to help release some of the flavor and then strain.

You can reserve the cinnamon stick and candied ginger for another use, such as mulled cider or wine.  You can also use the cinnamon sticks as a garnish for stirring.

Store in a small jar for up to 6 months (may or may not refrigerate, I don’t to keep it supple).

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pswrap-2

“…and that’s a wrap!”

 

 

Last one to the party (misses out on Joe’s sauerbraten!)

24 Saturday Sep 2016

Posted by Stacey Bender in family gatherings

≈ 2 Comments

So here it is, that time of year again – Oktoberfest! I posted this three years ago and am wanting to let all of you out there know that it is our mission, this year, not to be the last one to the party! We are layering up and heading for the ferry, beer mug in hand! See you on the other side.

I am also going to raise a glass for my niece Catherine, who is studying abroad in Copenhagen this year. Prost!

Smoked Meats (and tangy drinks)

15 Monday Aug 2016

Posted by Stacey Bender in family gatherings

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Father's Day, mango margarita, nectarine margarita, taco bar

margarita two glass

It seems fitting that I should roast a pork on Father’s Day.  Firstly, because pork brings back “Thoughts of Dad”.  Secondly, because pork is manly and can be roasted on a grill.  Ironically, I found out recently that my Dad doesn’t like smoked meats.  In fact, he doesn’t like smoked food.  Yet, I am pretty sure, as I was growing up, we ate bacon once a week (!), and in last year’s visit, (the one where I became aware of his disdain for smoked food), he exclaimed his love of smoked pork chops.  Perhaps he doesn’t think these are actually flavored of smoke?  In any case, I started writing this last year on Father’s Day and for Dad, I was making pork (even though he was back home in Mexico), and for Tom, the father of our adorable furry kids, I roasted said pork, in smoke!

I could smell it as I typed, wafting smoky loveliness throughout our yard and down our street.  Sadly, I didn’t write down what I did so when we finally get the replacement part for our wood pellet grill, I will explore a re-creation.  Until then, it was one year and two months later that I found myself in Arizona, visiting Dad (and Linda).  It was Father’s Day (again) and I planned on roasting a pork.

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…and Linda brought me to the right place.

Instead, I let someone roast it for us, overnight in applewood smoke, until it fell apart and filled with just the most perfect essence of smoke.

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Did I say Linda brought me to the right place?!

This tender pork I stuffed into charred poblanos along with charro beans, sautéed onions, tomatillo salsa, cumin and coriander.  It was then topped with mozzarella and cojita cheeses before going into the oven for 30 minutes at 375-degrees.  It came out melty, smoky and delicious.

But I’m not here to tell you about that, I am here to tell you about this – a taco bar.  In addition to the poblanos, the pork was set out on a platter with other taco fixings.  We were having a few guests over; and since it was crazy hot out and a few guests could mean two – but could also mean 10, I decided to keep it simple while keeping the kitchen coolish (it was 111 degrees outside).  Since we were in Arizona, a taco bar sounded like a good idea.  Okay, to me, a taco bar always sounds like a good idea.

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As does a fountain!

But not as good as a pool!

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Good thing we got both… a pool and a fountain!

Serving suggestion: Think about using colorful dishes with food set out on large platters surrounded by smaller bowls of salsas and garnish.  Chips and guacamole are perfect to nibble while sipping on cool mango margaritas before dinner.  Festive music should include the likes of Tito Paris, the Champs or Jenny and the Mexicats.

margarita thyme

But first…

...start by making margaritas! It is summer here in our piece of the world and better yet, it is the ideal time for nectarines in the Pacific Northwest. Specifically, in Yakima, Washington.  I don’t have mangos (and am not in Mexico, Hawaii, nor Arizona for that matter) but I do have a large quantity of nectarines.  Picked fresh from the Yakima Valley and purchased yesterday at Hunter Farms, so I’m thinking nectarine margaritas!

The margaritas I made were from these outrageously delicious, tender, sweet with a-bit-of twang perfection.  If you use other nectarines, purchased from a grocer without access to really good nectarines, I will first off, feel sorry for you and secondly, feel grateful that I didn’t.  No worries though, I am here to help you through by letting you know, your margarita will still be stellar.  Perhaps a little more Grand Marnier will do the trick? Peaches, mangos or apricots could be used in place of the nectarine.  Just remember that it is adding most of the sweetness to the drink since we aren’t adding sugar (or even simple syrup).

Nectarine Margaritas:

In a blender or food processor (such as a Vitamix), add the juice of 2 limes and 1 lemon (which should equal a total of 6 TB), 1 large nectarine (minus 4 slices for garnish; pit removed, skin on), 6 oz tequila (your favorite kind or the best you can afford), 2 oz Grand Marnier, and a big handful of ice.  Puree until smooth and serve in salt-rimmed glasses, garnished with a slice of nectarine and a sprig of herb (basil, mint, thyme…).

The fixin’s (for a taco bar):

Chunked Watermelon – lime juice, Serrano pepper & mint (literally that – dice some watermelon and mix with chopped Serrano chili, chopped mint and a little sea salt; very refreshing)

Pork butt – slow cooked, tender and smoky

Swordfish – cumin, coriander & heat

Sautéed Red Pepper and Onion

Black Beans

Sliced Cabbage

Torn Cilantro

Pico de gallo

Mango salsa (see my version here)

Avocado slices

Chipotle lime crème (just add chipotle chile powder or a small amount of the sauce from a can of chipotle chilis, and lime juice to CRÈME fraîche or sour cream).

By the way, if anyone is wondering why the hell I am writing about Father’s Day in August (when it happens to be in, uh, June), I believe you might want to reread this post.

Buen provecho!

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Ahhh summer…!  Buddy: “Do we like nectarines?”  Ginger: “Yeah, remember they gave us their drink garnish.  Is that why your pants are on backwards?”

The “Family” game

06 Saturday Aug 2016

Posted by Stacey Bender in family gatherings, Reviews

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

American Lamb Board, IFBC 2016, King Kabob food truck, Yolo Brewery

PS_rules for cover

This comes from Sacramento* where Tom and I are currently traveling to Dixon, CA, on a bus, filled with fellow food bloggers; destination unknown, to us anyways (and sponsored by the American Lamb Board).  My husband is sitting next to me and I just consumed a full sandwich filled with smoky slices of lamb; it was delicious!  I also ate the potato salad, all of it, and some of Tom’s.  I’m a little crazy about potato salad, but perhaps not the best idea at the beginning of a bus ride in the country.  I won’t go into that, but did I mention I am claustrophobic?  I certainly am now!   We are sitting in traffic, sun beating in, 101-degrees outside and I am listening to the cackle of many, many chatty voices, which are making me slightly insane!  I do see there is a restroom located in the back of the bus, conveniently, one row behind us.  I keep eyeing it over my shoulder, plotting my path, just-in-case.  I’ve been recently reminded that I can get car sick while riding in the back seat and am flashing back to my childhood.  I am adamently questioning our decision to leave the rental car parked at the hotel?!

* Well, it would have if I posted this last week when it was written, oops!

To keep my mind occupied (and my stomach, um, unaware), I am reminiscing the day leading up to this where we had hiked in the morning, sat in a creek (because it was again over 100-degrees), boated on Lake Wildwood, and best of all, after going my whole life unaware it existed, finally learned Zion Check, the “Family” game.

Tom and I are attending the International Food Bloggers Conference (IFBC) again, but this year it’s earlier in the year and in Sacramento, which turns out, is halfway between Alamo (no, not that Alamo) and Lake Wildwood.  The significance of that geographic trivia has to do with our motivation for attending this year’s conference (in addition of course, to the lure of the farm-to-fork culture of the area and the generous sponsors who will be there, providing stellar food, drinks and interesting + important facts, as usual).

My (our) main motivation however, was that my cousin Julie (you might remember her from this…), lives in the East Bay Area and has a vacation home in the Sierra Nevada foothills, where we have just spent the last several days.  Julie is the daughter of my birth Mom’s twin sister.  We had sadly not spent but a couple short times together since we were quite young, but apparently had spent a great deal more time together than either of us realized when we were young (as documented by the numerous photo albums that we finally got through, and I mean that in a good sense).

As we arrived at their home, greeted suspiciously, by their sweet dog Angela (AKA, Angie) and (slightly) less suspiciously by her husband Joe; Julie whisked us inside exclaiming how while we were here, we needed to look through old photo albums and play the “Family” game.  Growing up at my house in Alaska, we most definitely played games.  We played Cribbage, Gin Rummy and such.  Monopoly, Survive, Battleship, Scrabble and Yahtzee.  Old Maid, Dominos, Risk.  We played Candy Land, Chutes and Ladders, Parcheesi, Hearts and Go Fish.  The list goes on.  But not once though, had we played Zion Check, which Julie enthusiastically pointed out, we would be playing this trip.

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Ms. Angie on lookout at the bow.

The first night we popped open a bottle of champagne and caught up.  Then we loaded onto their boat with a platter of cheese and our cocktails to set off on a sunset cruise around the lake.  After we got back and finished a late dinner, we all agreed that the next day, Tom and I would learn the “Family” game. The next day, after breakfast on the deck, we decided instead, to escape the forecasted heat by driving 90 minutes northeast to Lake Tahoe, where we parked ourselves at a shaded table, under a tree by the lake, to have cocktails and eat crab.  In Nevada (because we can).  That was a good plan.  Did I mention the temperature had reached 106-degrees that day?

Time was running out and we hit our last day at the lake, no more knowledgable about how to play the “Family” game than we had been any day prior.  We did learn that Julie had been playing it for forty years and playing it with Joe for twenty-three of them. With no breakfast preluding, we kick-started our last full day with a hike.  It was invigorating!  It was hot!  Damn hot (but bonus!) it allowed us to sit in a running river, yay!  Upon our return, I happily watched Joe make a large breakfast, hungrily ate said large breakfast, showered (the hot stink away) and proceeded to look through many nostalgic photos.  It was (now) the hottest part of the day, so we finally sat downstairs (the lake beckoning beyond the windows, but from air conditioned comfort) at the poker table to play the “Family” game.

This was a card game, it turns out!  Perhaps best described as Gin Rummy meets Poker.  Card play can be as ruthless…and tricky but fun. I could tell from the start that this would be no exception.  We all antied up our 55 cents (no pennies accepted) and each got our 11 poker chips in return.

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Cool hand Luke!

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Not our tally sheet, but a history lesson.  Julie often wins.

As Julie wrote out our “contract” (what the heckfire?!), I could immediately tell Tom was getting nervous that this game, might be over his head (he is not a card player as such, but sneakily good and catching on and beating those well-versed).

Well, I have digressed, so, to make a short story less long, I will go back to the bus ride and let you know that it ended just fine (and stomach intact).  As you know, it started a little sketchy.  The bus stopped in the middle of nowhere and we were concerned there might be a bit of walking involved, through cows and sheep and sunflowers, no cool air, hot sun pounding down; I did spy a cute sight though, out the window was a sweet girl and her father on a bundle of hay.

hayride copy

Now that’s a farm girl!

Turns out we were meant to go on a hayride.  How fun, if it was not so damn hot!  Our guide, Ryan (and daughter Macayla) thought the same thing, so we toured the farm in a bus.  Ryan’s a 5th generation farmer and his family supplies meat to Superior Farm, which, as luck would have it, I do buy a lot of my lamb from.  I have good taste!

ryan and kayla copy

…and he has a cute daughter!

Our final destination turned out to be Yolo Brewery which makes exceptional beer.  I have that on good authority because I tasted them all!  Tom and I were particular fans of the Orange Blossom Blonde (refreshing for the hot weather) and the Coconut Porter (surprisingly delicious!  It was good just by itself but would make a good pairing with chocolate or as a replacement for dessert).

full beer glass

To be truthful, Tom and I went a little bit rogue.  We did, hard to believe, we know!  Rule breakers.  It was so hot and we all had waited around for so long to understand what we were doing there (in the brewery) besides drinking beer, that is (kudos to Paige (the bartender who spent a short stint in Seattle before succumbing to the gray winters and heading back home) to kick the taps off on her own accord), that Tom and I opted to sit outside under the misters.  Yes, I know this was rude.

Yolo brew bar copy

However, not only were we full, we were hot.  The water misters, in hot, fresh air, sounded good.  Stuffed in a warehouse corner, watching a lamb be butchered sounded, not good, for me (us).  There you go; we sometimes roll like that.

the truck copy

Speaking of rolling…

As we reluctantly (did I say it was hot?!) stuffed our very full faces with hallava, from the King Kabob food truck parked outside the brewery (more treats sponsored by the American Lamb Board) we decided we could stuff in some more (because they were GREAT)!!!  Exceptional in fact.  Now Tom and I were on our second one.

kabaabs in box copy

I can’t give you a pretty picture of the food because it was consumed quickly!

I strongly felt the need to go talk to the Man!  Two Men as it were, father and son, to let them know how much we enjoyed their food.  If you recall, I am a bit particular (and may I remind you, already full), so coming from me, I feel there should be put an extra emphasis on how exceptional this lamb dish was!

me at king kabaab truck copy

I swear the guys are in there actually talking to me.

As I got to talking to the Owner, Rasul and his son John, I learned the lamb came fresh from a farm just down the road where Rasul says Chuck sells only the best meat.  I can attest to the fact that the lamb we were eating was the best lamb of its kind I have ever tasted.  Expecting the typical chewy and unremarkable flavor to which I am accustomed to finding in a food truck, I instead bit into tender morsels exploding with balanced flavor.

rice

…and then we had thirds.  This was an offering after talking about the nuances of rice.  These guys know how to make rice (oh yeah, and lamb)!

The two men were at first, reluctant to divulge any of their secrets, but after much conversation and interest, they gave me some information that I consider to be golden (and I didn’t even need a gold pan).  How lucky did I feel when the rest of the bus missed out on the most important part of the trip – getting to know the Makers.  I am reluctant to share those secrets, especially since I haven’t had a chance to try them out yet, so stay tuned…

two guys truck copy

King Kabob:  Find them in Sacramento now…and bring your appetite!

Hope to see you there next year!?

Video

Sweet 16 & always been kissed, by Ginger & Buddy

23 Monday May 2016

Posted by Stacey Bender in family gatherings, Ginger + Buddy

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

dogs 16th birthday, Ellen Kume, macaroons, written by dogs

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By Ginger:

Every year humans seem to complain about getting one year older.  This, I don’t understand!  How many of us actually get the chance to grow old?  I feel so lucky today because I have lived yet another year!  I have had 16 years (s i x t e e n  y e a r s!!!) of special salmon dinners and carrot cake.  I have had sixteen years helping Mom taste things in the kitchen, helping Dad have a reason to go clean up the yard and prove to Buffy that she sent the right dog to take her place as guardian of this home.

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By calculation, I am old but in fact, I feel very young!  I can run fast, climb stairs quickly, bark loudly with great force and authority;  I may even be getting my driver’s license soon (Dad says I have to practice a little more first).  I have traveled by plane, by train and by automobile; by bike, boat and shopping cart.  I have run freely on the beach with sand softening each blow.  I have entertained at parties.  I have made friends and influenced people (to my way of thinking).

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Really Mom?!

I have embraced the fashions, both classic and trendy.  I have been photographed, published, video taped and listened to.  I have made my mark on the world (or at least the world that surrounds me) and have every intention of making more marks!!!  (Including those that don’t need to be cleaned up!)

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Uh, yeah, deal with it. (Yes, Mom did.)

I am sweet sixteen and I have always been kissed, loved and hugged (sometimes within an inch of my life)!

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Kiss me you fool…

I know Buddy has not always been kissed  but he is kissed now, and often, with sometimes even a peck by me.  We are both sixteen now.  I wasn’t so sure at first, but we are both in this together and I want to do my part to keep him well, keep him with us and keep him feeling happy and loved (as I always have been).  Buffy would want it this way.  Happy birthday to us!

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(A puppy at heart)

By Buddy:

I’m 16 too!  I’m six-teen!   Me, s i x t e e n !  This has been a good year.  I am still here!  I very much enjoyed the summer last year when everyone was more concerned about me than usual.  Ginger and I got a new deck, very comfy new furniture on it to lounge, and so much love I was sometimes bothered, but just a very little.  I like it here.  I have an amazing new menu that is served to me three times a day (and more when I act feisty).  I am bathed every week, whether I like it or not, carried practically everywhere (even when Mom is cooking;  I like that I can get a good view).  I mostly even get enough exercise (because Mom and Dad bought me socks so I don’t slip so much when I can walk), and I get kissed all the time!  They say I am sweet sixteen and boy do I get kissed! (I’m glad I found my way to my true home five years ago).  Buffy was right, this is a great place to live!  I want to live!  I am alive!  Bring on the sunshine!  Oh, and I want to EAT mmore meet !!!

PS_close up macaroons

Macaroons (Little Presents: orange-filled + chocolate Bailey’s-filled)

Macaroons are like flavored kisses, dressed up as little birthday gifts .  To our delight, Ellen, the most fabulous person at the place Mommy takes us for her work, brought us a plate full of flavored kisses last week.  We (Buddy & Ginger) think these particular kisses were meant for us.  Why wouldn’t they be?  It was between our birthdays and although Ellen doesn’t kiss us, she takes great care of us at the office and she even tucks us in our beds with a blanket.   Plus, she likes food.  Not in a simple, likes to eat food kind of way but in  a sophisticated picnic and pleasure kind of way.  She gets what it means to enjoy  food; which means, she gets what it means to enjoy life.  We like Ellen; she’s our pal.

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“Ellen, look at the view with me…  Oh and yeah, a little more to the left. Thanks.”

These macaroons were quite pretty but not in the macaroon, Paris poodle sort of way; more in the wow, cute, cuddly and scrumptious type of way.  Mom thinks macaroons are too fussy but she sure seemed to like these that Ellen made.  They were the right kind of pretty with pretension left aside.  They were Hobo Buddy kind of good, meaning, they had (almond) grit but lots of character and flavor.

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There are a few bits of advise concerning the making of these cookies that Ellen thinks are important to note (also underlined below in her recipe):

  1. The eggs need to be room temperature because they will whip better.
  2. Use parchment paper and smack the tray to get rid of all the bubbles.
  3. Let them sit for 1/2 hour; you should be able to touch them without them feeling sticky anymore.
  4. 4.  If you use almond floor, they will be smooth.  If you use almond meal, they will have little speckles (which is what Ellen used).

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“Happy birthday to us, happy birthday to us, happy birthday us cuties, happy birthday to usssssss!  Okay, time for a nap.”

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In loving memory of Buffy Edwards-Bender:  August 1985 – May 20, 2000.  We miss you!

 

 

60!

29 Sunday Nov 2015

Posted by Stacey Bender in Eating Out, family gatherings

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

George and Peggy Brown, The Lucky Wishbone

 

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The year was 1951.  A couple, a young child and their dog drove up the Al-Can highway after the war and soon opened, what was at the time, a small shack of a diner.  They soon hired a waitress named Agnes (Aggie).  They woke up early, went to bed late and peeled potatoes, fried chicken, griddled burgers, and spun a yarn in-between.  50 years later (10 years ago), Aggie was still there, cooking, smiling and helping to shape the sense of Place.  The child was now grown with three siblings, three children of her own and a much different job, running the offices of a US Senator.

The man and the woman were still married and still the Host and Hostess of an ever-present gathering spot in Alaska, serving the best fried chicken, burgers and shakes around.  They had created an institution.  The photos on the walls told the story of those 50 years and the years preceding them.  A WWII pilot, George met Peggy waiting tables at a diner in Utah when he began courting her.  It was a fast romance that resulted in that previously mentioned child.  On this day, some 60 years later, The Lucky Wishbone still has a line out the door during the lunch rush, has some of it’s original employees or their offspring, their original patrons and/or their offspring and is still owned/operated by 94-year-old George Brown, my Grandfather.  And you guessed it, that child is my Mother.

This November 30, 2015, The Lucky Wishbone turns 60.  I am so proud.  If walls could speak, the stories would be many.  Each of us kids have put in our time there learning what it is like to put in a good day’s work for a good day’s pay.  Learning what quality product and service should be.  Learning so much….about life.  I personally, feel the Lucky Wishbone shaped who I am today, for many reasons.  I know it has shaped the lives of many others, both patrons and staff.

To George and Peg (Grandma is smiling from above) – Congratulations!  To Grandpa and Grandma – I love you and thank you!  To all the employees that I worked with and ate with and grew to know as family – Salute!.

Happy Birthday to “the Bone”! (and Happy Birthday to my Tom whose birthday it is today; you still light up my life).

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I think I’ll go cook up some fried chicken now myself.  But Julia, might you bring some home for me?

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