Learning By Trowel and Error

Finally, and with about three weeks advance planning, this past three-day Memorial Day weekend provided a  great opportunity for relaxation and recreation. Or it would have, if I hadn't had a backyard makeover project that's been in a state of partial completion for about three years. The yard had not been touched since the end of the last growing season, so that alone tells you something about what kind of shape it was in as we entered the weekend.

Some background to clarify. About three years ago my all-concrete back yard had deteriorated to the point at which anyone going back there risked serious bodily injury. More importantly, they might sue me. Even in those cheap-oil days, the cost of concrete had skyrocketed to where the cost of repaving the entire yard was far beyond the budget, assuming (incorrectly) that there was a budget. Since I'd been gardening for years in planters, we decided to save on concrete - and, for that matter, planters - by repaving only about half the yard and keeping the rest exposed so I could remake it into an in-ground garden in all that spare time I have. In the ensuing three years, I learned some valuable lessons:

Lesson 1. Hand-digging the heavy clay soil found in this part of New Jersey is a bear.

Lesson 2. Lesson 1 is not helped by the presence of large, heavy rocks and construction debris left behind by the guys who built the house about 60 years ago. (They've probably gone on to that great construction project in the sky by now. My heartfelt wish is that they spend eternity laying in heavy clay soil with large rocks and construction debris.)

Lesson 3. Placing, one-by-one, a pallet and a half of stone pavers so they form a level network of walking paths throughout the garden is a really big bear.

Lesson 4. After said pavers have been placed, sweep sand into the cracks immediately. If you wait, oh, say, 3 years, weeds and grass grow between them with roots that extend down to around the earth's molten center. Pulling them out is an absolutely enormous bear.

Lesson 5. Hauling half a pallet of 80 pound bags of soil (or, as we call it in Jersey, "dirt") is no big deal for a tall strong guy who over the years has made sure he kept himself in shape.

Lesson 6: Hauling half a pallet of 80 pounds bags of soil is quite a big deal for a short, skinny middle-aged technocrat whose main form of exercise is pushing a pencil.

After far too long of tellingmyself I was sure going to finish this project "someday," my biological clock had had enough. (Yes, men have those too. Ours have us feeling we have to earn large sums of money or complete manly projects by a certain age.) I entered the three-day weekend with but one goal: finish the yard. A doctor friend I shared my three-day plan with advised me to get the Advil ready. I consider it a sign of prophetic cosmic approval that as I left to go home for the weekend after work on Friday, the Advil folks decided to hold a promotion and hand out free samples on the street. I got four or five packets, and was ready.

Having been neglected for more than half a year, a good bit of the yard was so overgrown with weeds you might have thought it an abandoned lot. The lawn, or rather the 10' x 18' patch of grass that passes for one, symbolized how the yard looked like an unkempt vagrant badly in need of a haircut. Introducing my two teenagers to the idea that manual labor is not a guy in their Spanish class, we got off to a good start that had the yard looking like a semi-kempt vagrant with a bad haircut in no time.

My boys took immediately to the task of weeding the areas that hadn't been planted last year and that had the most weed growth. Mostly they were enormously entertained by the variety of insect life forms one encounters while digging up old soil. By the time we got to developing the last planting sector I was unable to bear the thought of hauling one more bag of soil or laying one more stone paver. Solution: put up a steel arch-type trellis from a kit, put a hanging basket of something-or-other (petunias I think, but who was paying attention by that point), and mulch the living daylights out of that heavy clay soil.

By the time we ran out of daylight, the only remaining work was the weeding of a portion of the pavers, and some normal-maintenance weeding that actually has nothing to do with the makeover. And oh yeah, I have to find some way of getting rid of all those old planters. With only enough energy left at the end to run a hot bath and open a cold beer, I couldn't help feeling that life was a pretty good place.

Should you be interested, dear readers, here's the progress. The photo on the left is the old planter garden, arranged with great artistry in a 4 x 4 grid that may not seem like much to normal people but that engineers think is beautiful. On the right is the 2008 version. (The grass area is where the planters were in the photo on the left.) Please disregard my neighbor's Mesozoic-era fence that we hope to cover with one of our own some time soon.

    

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Graffiti

Back in high school, a good friend (who went on to write professionally) wrote a column called "Graffiti" in the school newspaper. It was a collection of short, odds-and-ends items, and I was reminded of that title while gathering the mini-rants below.

Britney's mom must be feeling kind of slighted right now

A mothers organization in Long Island, NY has given Lindsay Lohan's mother a "Top Mom" award. No, really, I'm serious, and so, apparently, are the members of the mothers organization. I'm cheering Lindsay on in her recovery efforts, but let's face it, folks: giving Dina Lohan a mothering award would be as ridiculous as, say, George Bush offering his administration's expertise on responding to a natural disaster. And how dumb would THAT be?

Heck of a job, George

The hearts of any civilized human being have to go out to the people of Myanmar, and everything humanly possible that can be done to help them should be done. That said, am I the only one who finds a cruel irony in our current president offering his administration's expertise for responding to a natural disaster?

Do they still have to attack if he calls it "nucular?"

This past Tuesday morning, the Today Show had a piece where Al Roker got to go into one of the top-secret underground silos from which nuclear attacks would be launched. Roker asked some interesting questions of the dedicated soldiers who - quite literally - have their fingers on the buttons, exploring how they'd feel if a strike were ordered, but forgot to ask this one: are they concerned that the person who could order a nuclear attack is a self-absorbed, morally bankrupt, short-sighted, self-righteous, self-deluding fool who can't handle the complexities of putting a subject and a predicate together to form a sentence?

While on the subject of the president, please join me, dear readers, in offering heartfelt congratulations to his daughter Jenna for her wedding day. And in praying, really hard, that they don't procreate.

Here's looking at you, kid...

Want to know what's wrong with the world? I'll tell you what's wrong with the world. The current issue of Vanity Fair has a cover story about how Robert Kennedy's evolving thoughts on the Viet Nam war influenced his decision to run for president. It's hugely powerful stuff that has enormous relevance today. And does anyone even know the article is there? No, because the same issue has two photos of entertainer Miley Cyrus that are much more important for us to talk and write about.We do it to ourselves, folks.

Iron Chef Freedonia

A couple of weeks ago I had the great experience of seeing Duck Soup, my favorite Marx Brothers movie, on a 50 foot screen at the beautiful old Loews theater here I've written about previously. I couldn't have been the only person there who thought Zeppo had an eerie resemblance to Bobby Flay.

(A semi-unrelated item I couldn't resist sharing: Around the time Duck Soup (which takes place in "Freedonia") first came out, the upstate NY city of Fredonia complained about the use of so similar a name. From Groucho came this response: "Change the name of your town. It's hurting our picture.") 

Gratuitous American Idol Item

So now we learn that a good bit of the the "live" comments given by the judges for each performance are prepared before the show based on rehearsals. Who could have guessed the judging process on that show wasn't completely proper? I certainly don't see anything wrong with people being judged on their ability to stand at a microphone and sing by a panel of people, not one of whom - and I'm including Paula in this - could themselves stand a microphone and sing. Nor is there anything wrong with contests being decided by an uninformed general public voting multiple times in the same election. It's done all the time here in New Jersey.

 

New York, New York, a Hell of a Town

Sorry for the time between posts. It's been a whirlwind here, though I can't actually think of anything that's getting done in all the activity. To quote Lewis Carroll, it's taking all the running I can do to stay in the same place.

 

New York City has been a study in all sorts of human things these past weeks. Michael R. (for "Rich beyond your imagination") Bloomberg, billionaire and NYC mayor, had proposed "congestion pricing," a plan by which drivers would be charged several dollars to enter Manhattan during peak hours. Though it's a city plan, it would require state approval to implement. Despite Bloomberg's extended full court press on the state legislature - or maybe because of it - the state dismissed the plan without so much as putting it up for a vote.

 

Bloomberg is, overall, a reasonably popular mayor, and we're hearing calls here and there for the two-term limit to be done away with so that he can be elected again. Still, like generals, billionaires enter public office with a disadvantage. They're accustomed to saying, "This is what you are to do," and having people snap to attention and do it. It's a shock when they find out what happens when you say that to people in a more general society.

 

The big story here, though, has been the Pope's visit. He's making other US stops, but most of his activity centers on New York City. He's visiting abuse victims; speaking to world leaders at the U.N. (if, by "world leader," we mean people whose function is to park illegally with diplomatic immunity and debate whether they will "condemn" or simply "deplore" the latest terrorist attack); speaking with Jewish leaders at a synagogue; conducting masses at St. Patrick's Cathedral and Yankee Stadium (where, at 81, he will be only the third oldest person ever to take the field, after Randy Johnson and Mike Mussina); seeing the World Trade Center site; and just generally being seen by hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of faithful, semi-faithful, and never-heard-of-faithful. It is a time of deep spiritual renewal and enlightenment, after which time we will all go back to being exactly the same as we were before his arrival.

 

I actually got to see the Pope once, not Benedict but John Paul II, on his first trip to the U.S. in 1979. I was a college student in those days, or at least was attending college, the "student" part being debatable, and his motorcade passed along 8th Street in the village, just a couple of blocks from my school. This was before the assassination attempt, so he was still riding in an open-topped car, with Cardinal Cooke holding an umbrella to fend off the rain. Between the rain and the fact that I was still learning to use the first 35 mm SLR camera I ever owned, the picture below isn't great. Still, it reminds me of how I had at the time no understanding at all that to be that close to the Pope - 30 or 40 feet at most - is nearly unheard of, and is a privilege millions around the world would give much for. Not bad for a Jewish kid.

 

 

Unrelated Topic: Nice Buns

 

I recently finished reading a wonderful book, "How I Learned to Cook," by Kimberly Witherspoon and Peter Meehan. It's a compilation of early experiences related by a collection of well-known chefs. One of the chapters was from Nancy Silverton, co-founder (and bread expert) of a number of high-level restaurants in California. What she said included this:

 

"I realized I couldn't think about bread the way I thought about pastry or pasta or any other typical culinary undertaking. Bread is alive. Minor inconsistencies are a fact of life, not a mark of failure. The tiny variation in the loaves from day to day made them unique, not imperfect. And the relationship of a baker to her bread is like any other kind of serious relationship you have with anybody in life. It's never perfect. It takes so much work. And every time you think that you've mastered it, the next day you're brought back to reality and it needs some more work."

 

I love that.

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The Conspiracy Conspiracy

A while back my aunt passed away and, while looking up the cemetery on the Internet (location, directions, things like that), I found it has two claims to fame. First, it is the burial place of poet Alan Ginsburg. Second, no less than 141 web sites say it is the place where a man - a "former member of the Israeli Defense Force" who, of course, asked that his name not be used - was taking clippings of English ivy in October, 2000 and says he overheard three men talking, in Hebrew no less. He heard one of the men say, "The Americans will learn what it is to live with terrorists after the planes hit the twins in September."

Wait...this gets better...

When one of the men later asks if the upcoming (November 2000) presidential election will affect the plan, another of them replied, "Don't worry, we have people in high places and no matter who gets elected, they will take care of everything." Oy.

If you saw this on a tv show, you'd probably say "Who writes this garbage?" and change the channel.

I was reminded of this recently by new reports about the RFK assassination claiming new evidence of a multiple-gunman conspiracy. RFK being kind of a hero of mine, if you'll forgive someone my age still using expressions like that, the story caught my eye. Seems some new electronic enhancements of recordings made at the time show more shots fired than at first thought and that proves there was a second gunman and that shows there was a larger conspiracy that was covered up by the official investigation blah-blah zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

RFK assassination conspiracy theories are certainly not new. Reports of a mysterious woman in a polka-dot dress shouting, "We shot him!" came out almost immediately after it happened nearly 40 years ago. Other theories that made it all the way into publication include that Sirhan was hypnotized, that he had amnesia, and that the killing was arranged by Aristotle Onassis so that Kennedy wouldn't interfere with Ari's plan to marry Jacqueline. (Credible reports do suggest RFK would smack you if you referred to his sister-in-law as "Jackie.") Back in pre-Internet days, someone told me that it doesn't matter how ridiculous an idea is; if you can show it was published somewhere it will have instant credibility.

In the RFK case, it's easy to see how these theories started. There were surface inconsistencies: ballistic markings from test-firings of Sirhan's gun differ from those on the bullets that hit RFK; the coroner's report that RFK was hit in the back of the head, whereas Sirhan was standing to his right; two additional bullet holes found a in a door frame pre-maturely destroyed by investigators would have brought the total bullets found to 10. (Sirhan's gun held eight.) And then, of course, there's the woman in the polka dot dress. The manner in which the LAPD and District Attorney's office responded with secrecy and bureaucracy only added fuel.

Valid questions to ask, but they've been answered, and years ago at that, by people who didn't jump to conclusions. Ballistics differed because of barrel fouling caused by repeated test firings by investigators. (Ballistics of the first few test shots, before the fouling occurred, reportedly were a match for the three victim bullets.) The two unaccounted-for holes in the door frame were found to be too small to have been made by bullets. Analysis shows that shows RFK turned to his left just as the shots were fired, so that a bullet from the right would have entered the back of his head. Eyewitnesses do confirm there were at least two women in polka dots that night, but the campaign staffer who made the claim one of them was involved later failed a polygraph test and recanted. One of the "polka dot" women did say she ran from the room shouting, "he's been shot!"

For the human race to regularly put out hasty, nonsensical theories seems inconsistent with its mind-boggling history of technical, artistic, social and intellectual accomplishments. We've put men on the moon. (Wait...maybe that's not a good example.) In any event, something doesn't add up. Somebody - my guess is the government - is covering something up, and I'm going to find out what. I'll check some published materials and the Internet and get back to you.

Unrelated Item 1: Have It Your Way (Assuming by "you" is meant "Stephen King")

Is it just me, or is that rubber-masked Burger King character on the tv commercials really scary looking in a serious way?

"May You Live In Interesting Times"

It's St. Patrick's Day, when the world takes a moment from a hectic schedule to acknowledge the rich history and culture of Ireland and its proud people, and reduce them to green bagels, green paper hats, green beer and cardboard leprechauns. But I digress.

 

The last few days at work have been interesting, to say the least.

I suppose that sounds like the entries in countless other journals. Ho hum, why should anyone really care? Ok, so let me start this over again.

The last few days at my job working for the New York State government - yes, that New York State government - have been interesting, to say the least. The somewhat tumultuous times we were experiencing anyway took a you-can't-make-this-stuff-up turn last week when governor no. 54 became client no. 9.

It's not that this will affect my job directly - I'm way too low on the food chain for that. But with a new governor often comes new management for state agencies. And while they have no idea I exist, they do appoint people who promote people who designate people who, in some cases, have seen my name on an e-mail somewhere.  A change in top leadership can create turmoil under the most stable conditions. In recent months our agency has been seeing rapid organizational changes anyway, with more promised to come, and so a top-management change now would be turmoil squared. I've decided to take a wait-and-see approach, primarily because I'll be damned if I can think of any other idea.

Fortunately, events have wasted no time taking absurdity to heights Bill-and-Monica never got close to achieving. I don't want the state's economy being presided over by someone who thinks $4000 for two hours of his, um, special friend working under him (literally, in this case) is a good deal. (Some newspaper accounts of the recorded telephone conversations have reported this amount was agreed to after some haggling by the then-governor.) There's more absurdity in that the man who, as a hard line prosecutor, used wiretaps and monitored bank transactions to indict other people got caught by means of...you guessed it...wiretaps and monitored bank transactions. Moral and legal issues not withstanding, the - sorry, I have to use the word - stupidity of that is stunning.

I think my favorite absurdity came earlier this week. It seems Ashley Dupre, the mistress in question, had some R-rated photos on her Facebook page and got upset when newspapers covering the story published them. Do you remember that old definition of chutzpah: killing your parents and then throwing yourself on the mercy of the court because you're an orphan? With the new century seems to have come a new definition: posting pictures of yourself on the Internet and then taking legal action against someone because you consider the pictures private. I love this stuff.

One of the saddest spectacles has been the now-former governor parading his wife out to stand next to him while he makes his various public confessions. This has been widely - and, I believe, appropriately - criticized. Her efforts not to look completely mortified are gallant but unsuccessful. It's hard to know what he's thinking having her do that, except perhaps that as long as they're in a public place she can't disembowel him. If that's the case, it might be the most common sense he's shown in this whole episode.

Unrelated Item 1: Heather in the Sky with Diamonds. Large, Expensive Diamonds.

 

With the American economy currently in an extended downturn (in economist terminology, it "sucks") I'm seriously considering flying to England and seeing if I can get Paul McCartney to marry me for a few months. I'll keep you all posted on my progress.

 

Unrelated Item 2: With Special Guest Appearance By...

 

It's looking like the latest fashion in Washington is making "unannounced" visits to Iraq. Every week it seems the "Survivor: Baghdad" show features a different surprise guest doing essential fact finding, as if facts ever had anything to do with our engagement there. And, ok, while we're here, I suppose there's no harm in having our picture sent back home looking iconic and statesmanlike while meeting with the troops or with local officials.

 

Unrelated Item 3: Memories are Made of This

 

I don't think Dean Martin will ever get the full credit he deserved as one of the most superbly well-rounded entertainers of our lifetimes. Just thought I'd mention that. 

March Forth

I just read a friend's blog entry about traveling as part of a group to Albany, NY to lobby the state government there about cultural funding issues. It reminded me of getting to march on Washington on a couple of occasions, lots of years ago, once during Bush XLI (I love that we number our presidents like Superbowls.) and once during the Clinton administration. These marches concerned housing issues, something I was active in at that time. (It was a period when I had time for political activity beyond turning off the radio whenever Bush starts to speak and saying, "oh, shut the hell up already.")

 

The trips, about five hours each direction from where I live, were made on a packed school bus, the seats in which were too small for us even when we were kids with much smaller seats ourselves. My travel-mates were strangers, but like-minded ones, so the trips were pleasant enough. For some reason, I remember one trip in which the adults had brought a lot of big signs about the importance of saying no to drugs. This was fine until we made a rest-stop half way down and we all made a run to the coffee stand that would have put to shame a bus-load of desperate opium addicts parking in a poppy field. (The other irony is that I'm drawing tokes myself from a now-cold-but-I-don't-care-just-give-me-the-damn-coffee cup as I write these words. But I'm not an addict. I'm a joy sipper. I can stop any time I want to. I just don't want to, that's all.)  

 

It was energizing, this idea of being one of countless thousands marching through the streets of this powerful place, and gathering within sight of the Capitol Building to hear important speakers. Coretta Scott King was one. Richie Havens sang. So did Rita Coolidge. Others as well.

 

The first march, large though it was, got relegated to the minor media coverage heap when Bette Davis died the same day and got our front page. (For the record, I don't blame Ms. Davis for this and, in fact, am pretty sure she wasn't any happier about it than we were.) The second time we scored a little better. I really wouldn't mind doing it again sometime.

 

Another Political Item

 

One of the hazards of not writing entries more often is that the ones that do get written are overburdened with topics. Bear with me please, dear readers, on some political analysis absolutely no one asked for.

 

On the Republican side, we now know John McCain is in. I guess even Mike Huckabee saw his prospects were dwindling as we had primaries in more and more states where people wear shoes and don't marry their sisters. His pulling out of the campaign reminded me somewhat of those tv-shows where someone tells his boss, "You can't fire me, I quit!" The man was trailing in delegates to Mitt Romney, who stopped running weeks ago, for crying out loud.

 

I like McCain, and although my disagreement with him on certain issues makes it impossible for me to vote for him, he has more of my respect than all of the other candidates combined. At the same time, if he's to keep his reputation as a guy who talks straight, he's got to stop doing things like campaigning in Texas by calling the Bushes two of the greatest presidents we've ever had. Most Republicans don't even believe that.

 

And don't you love the politicians who are coming out endorsing McCain now that he's already getting the nomination?

 

Among the Democrats, it's not surprising this is looking like it will go to the convention without yet being resolved. In policy terms, I don't think there are strong differences between Obama and Clinton, and the Democratic primary system of apportioning delegates in proportion to the popular vote, rather than doing winner-take-all, practically guarantees a photo finish. The real difference between the two candidates is less what they say they want to accomplish, and more about how it looks like they'll go about trying to accomplish it. It's the diplomat vs. the street fighter. Notwithstanding any ads which, as near as I can tell, are saying that you can call Hillary on the telephone at  3:00 am, either approach has some value.

 

Hillary, now on a first-name basis with the world (like Elvis, Liza, and Yanni) seems almost Shakespearian in her complexity and inner conflicts. It's hard sometimes not to feel there are two Hillaries: the compassionate social leader with the heart and intelligence to lead a nation to great things; and the disingenuous pandering politician who stands out even among other disingenuous pandering politicians. The latter, I fear, too often forms a crust around the former, though both are present at all times.

 

I also wish she would stop speaking in applause points, raising her voice at pre-determined moments in a kind of verbal "applause-please" pose that does nothing to dispel the image many have of her as insincere. It's painful to watch. The great speakers don't do that, and never did. They just speak, knowing that if what they're saying warrants it, the applause will come.

 

Regarding Obama, the oft-heard criticism is that his campaign has achieved cult status. That he speaks well and gets people excited is somehow framed as a liability. But read any book about leadership, and you'll see that the ability to get people excited about what they're doing is among the greatest qualities anyone in a position of leadership can possess.

 

Finally, I have to ask...why is it Stephen Colbert was told he couldn't run for president because his was not a serious candidacy, but now Ralph Nader can? Is a campaign centered on astute political humor really less valuable than one based on vanity?

 

 

Sort of Political Item, But Not Really

 

I meant to write sooner about the passing of William Buckley. It would be hard to find someone from whom I differ more politically. And yet he was someone whose writing I admired greatly. Regardless of whether one agreed with Buckley's content, his skill at creating sentences of mind-bogglingly complex structure and yet making them understandable was unequalled. The man juggled subordinate clauses that had subordinate clauses and managed to keep them all in the air, never dropping one. I think of him as one of two must-read-for-their-styles writers, Peggy Noonan for her gorgeous prose being the other. 

All I Really Need to Know I Learned From Food Network

Weekend's here and with it, finally, the chance to sit in one place long enough to write. Thank you, dear readers, for your patience. (Got to warn you - this entry is a little on the long side. Thanks for your patience with that, too.) 

 

It's amazing how the study of some specific topic can sometimes yield lessons that apply to all aspects of life. With the hours I used to spend sitting on my butt in front of the computer now used for, among other things, sitting on my butt in front of the television watching Food Network, I'm finding new insights to bring to the table, metaphorically speaking. (Ok, not everything here is from Food Network, but allow me a teensy bit of license for the sake of a title.) Although I am still trying to figure out how to get people to applaud every time I put garlic into a pot, there are some other things that have occurred to me.

 

1. Get those pots heated and ready at the beginning. Rachael Ray says we shouldn't be waiting for the pots, the pots should be waiting for us. She's right. We're each in charge of our own lives. Don't let yourself be controlled by other people, circumstance, or household appliances.

 

2. Bobby Flay says don't keep standing over the grille, turning this and fussing with that - "Let the grille do its job." Don't micromanage. Surround yourself with the right resources and then make use of them so you can spend your time where it's better used.

 

3. Your mise-en-place shouldn't be limited to food ingredients; make sure the pots and other apparatus you need are in place as well. (Figured that one out for myself after one too many times of having everything mixed and then finding out the pan I need is in the sink waiting to be washed.) On any project, it really is the small details that most often trip us up.

 

4. Speaking of mise-en-place, embrace the fact that it can take longer to gather and prepare your ingredients than it does to cook them. Give this process the time it needs and you'll be rewarded. Mr. Lincoln was right: "If I had eight hours to cut down a tree, I'd spend six of it sharpening my ax."

 

5. A chef with whom I studied pie-making at a local community college taught this magnificent lesson: "I laugh when people ask for how long the pie should be baked. The pie should be baked till it's ready." People, circumstances, and pies are all different. Go at life with a pre-determined one-size-fits-all approach and the pie's not the only thing that will either get burned, or not be well done.

 

6. From the same chef I learned that part of the art of cooking something is finding a way to do it that minimizes the cleanup. Some folks have people cleaning up after them. The rest of us have to approach things in a different way.

 

7.  Reducing the amount of fat in baking recipes is good; if you reduce it by too much you can ruin the recipe. Being bad, in moderation, can be good for you.

 

8. Mario Batali once said one of the greatest cooking lessons he learned was the value of using fewer ingredients when possible. Having ingredients in one's food - and in one's life - is good as long as they add something. If they're there just so you can say they're there, leave them out.

 

9. My pies were a disaster - and trying to manage the dough for the crust was an ordeal - until I took the class alluded to a few items above and learned what I was doing wrong. Don't let your passion lead you to go off half-cocked. Take the time to learn your trade. You'll be better off.

 

10. I was appalled that the strawberry muffin recipe called for frozen strawberries and smugly insisted mine would be made only with fresh strawberries. A batch of horrible strawberry muffins later, I learned that frozen strawberries act differently in batter than do fresh ones - in this case, in ways that benefited the recipe. Don't judge people, situations, or strawberries based on preconceptions. There's sometimes more to something than is initially obvious.

 

11. Sandra Lee's "Semi-Homemade" program uses packaged ingredients in combination with some fresh ones. While it's not the way I like to approach things, she also plates and serves what she's made in wonderfully interesting and creative ways. There's something to learn from everyone, regardless of how their approach to things may differ from yours..

 

12. Bending the fingers into a claw-type shape makes it safer for holding vegetables and whatever else you're using that sharp knife on, but it was hard and fatiguing for me because I'd always stiffen my hand when I did it. I couldn't imagine doing it any other way until I watched how relaxed Rachael Ray's left "claw" hand is when she's cutting with her right. Just take a deep breath and relax. It makes everything go better.

 

13. I've learned to use plum tomatoes for anything that requires tomatoes be seeded. Since they're long and narrow, they only have to be cut in half to be seeded. Saves a few seconds over short, round type tomatoes that have to be cut into quarters to be seeded. The difference isn't much for three tomatoes, but it's quite a lot for three pounds of tomatoes. Little things can eventually add up to big things.

 

14. Food Network's website, www.foodnetwork.com, is usually the first place I go to find a recipe I'm interested in, and not just because they have so many good ones. One of their hugely helpful features is reader commentary on each recipe. "I tried this and it's the best I ever had." "This came out better when I reduced the sugar." "This recipe sucks and I'm never watching Food Network again." Feedback and constructive criticism are immensely valuable resources. Seek them. Use them.

 

15. In connection with the above, a buttermilk biscuit recipe posted by one of the network's best known chefs was rated a unanimous disaster by the user responses. Turns out there were some mistakes in the recipe, and when a corrected version was posted it received equally effusive praise as the best the various comment-writers ever had. In another recipe - I'm forgetting at the moment what it was for - honey was listed as an ingredient but nowhere in the recipe did it say to use it. Be careful - even recognized experts can make fundamental mistakes.

 

16. Looking at, of all things, an IHOP menu, I saw an item that mentioned the reason their omelettes are so fluffy is that they add a little pancake batter to the egg mixture. I tried that in my quiche filling and it gave it the lighter quality I'd been trying to get. Good ideas sometimes show up in the most unexpected places. Keep your eyes - and your mind - open or you could miss them.

 

17. When hesitant about adding more of an ingredient, or adding a completely new one to a recipe, I remember the countless times I've heard Emeril, the Babe Ruth of chefs, say something like, "What, are you afraid the <name of ingredient> police will come after you?" Don't just do things by the book. Do you know who wrote "the book?" Nobody. Experiment. Be creative. It's ok.

 

Unrelated Item:

Packing things up after class earlier this week, I realized I'd just finished lecturing to students for the better part of two hours with my shirttail hanging out in the back. It made me realize how much stress and anxiety I avoid simply by not having any sense of dignity.