Cook vs Turkey.....

Mr. Butterball before

......and the cook won? Yes.

There are many ways to cook a turkey. Do you start with a fresh or frozen bird? Some people swear by submerging them in vats of hot oil and frying them while other people skewer them before placing them on the grill. Still others opt for the oven roasted method but that begs the question of to brine or not brine. Do you season and baste the bird by squeezing herbs and oils between the skin and meat or cook it au natural. And what about the dressing; is it cooked inside of the bird or out? Everyone has their own idea of what is correct. A couple of years ago a friend introduced me to the idea of cooking the bird in its frozen state. She swore that it  came out juicier this way and saved you the hassle of trying to figure out how to safely defrost it first. I was intrigued but skeptical and each time I went to cook a turkey I contemplated this method then (turkied out) and fell back on the method that I was most comfortable with--roasting an unbrined yet heavily seasoned bird in the oven with its cavity filled with sliced apples and citrus. After all, what would happen if it didn't cook properly and I had a table full of guests expecting turkey.

But then I found myself in Belgium with a single small refrigerator. My only options for a turkey were the frozen ones from the grocery store and with my small refrigerator I simply didn't have a place where I could safely thaw the bird. So I took the plunge, crossed my fingers and stuck my fully frozen bird in the oven six hours before my guests were set to arrive. And I waited (while eliciting reassuring emails from my friend). And I waited because my bird was slightly larger than the bird described in the "recipe" I was following.

But sure enough, shortly before my full fledged panic began to kick in the bird started to thaw and turn brown. By the time I had to wrestle the still partially frozen neck and organs out of the cavity it was actually beginning to smell like a turkey. The afore mentioned removal process, however, was not pretty. Picture two people, one set of oven mitts, tongs and an oven hot roasting pan perched over a small sink. It was hot, messy and slightly work that had me longing to be able to put the turkey in the oven and forget about it. But a cook has to do what a cook has to do, right? And because I am a glutton for punishment, I took this opportunity to fill the now empty cavity with homemade dressing.. Again this wasn't an easy task since I was dealing with a bird that was simultaneously frozen and burning to the touch. Ouch.

A few hours later, however, when I removed the fully cooked turkey from the oven I thought I had success. Due to the afore mentioned wrestling match the fully cooked bird wasn't as pretty as I had hoped but we carved it before it went on the table so no one was the wiser. The result? The meat was cooked, the bird was juicy and our guests raved about its taste. Given my current circumstances I'd use this cooking method again. But give me a larger kitchen with a larger refrigerator, I'd go back to my usual method.

In the end, however, I got my belated Thanksgiving dinner so now it is time to tackle Christmas. There will not be turkey on the menu this time around.

Mr. Butterball, the cooked version

Food Fights

Food; we all need it to live. But do you eat to live or live to eat? In my family, depending upon the day, we are a bit of both. I love good food and since I am the cook in the family won't hesitate to spend hours in the kitchen perfecting the perfect dish or full blown meal. I actually find all of the tinkering and experimenting to be relaxing but when the cooking is done, I like to sit down, relax and enjoy my meal. Unfortunately, this doesn't always happen. Rather food is alternatively inhaled with gusto or pushed around on plates; often before I've even had my first bite......so frustrating but part of my food reality. So this leads to my desire to eat to live with simple and easy dishes gracing our table.

So how do I please everyone's culinary desires? Many times it comes down to the issue of how many dinners can I make on a single night. Do I make three separate meals, as I've done a few times recently, two or a single modified one where we all must either eat what is in front of us or go without dinner? My inclination is to go with the later but as a food lover, the thought of all of us being unsatisfied at the end of the meal is downright discouraging. Three balanced meals is simply too much work so our dinners tend to fall somewhere along the lines of option number two. I try to find foods that we will all enjoy but sometimes it is just so hard. I love fish and seafood, just about every vegetable I've ever encountered and am always game for trying something new. The boys in my family....not so much.

Our family food battles used to be confined to our home. Last year I sent Sidney to school where four days a week he was served a varied and nutritious Belgian lunch. (I still provided a nutritious snack). He didn't always like what was put on this plate but under the pressure of his Madame he was at least trying new foods. And much to our delight there were foods he never would have tried at home that he actually ended up liking at school. But gradually I began to hear complaints. Other kids got to bring their own lunches. According to Sidney, they got to eat chips and cookies and drink soda for lunch and he wanted to do the same. On occasion Sidney would bring a home baked cookie as a snack but he wanted plastic wrapped Hostess treats instead. After all, that is what all of the other (American) kids got to eat.

All summer long Sidney has been nagging me to be able to bring his own lunch to school this year. At camp this summer he brought his own lunch and he wanted to do the same for school. At camp however, every child brought healthy homemade lunches that made mine look like the unhealthy ones (yes, it was that type of camp and I loved it). As other parents are well aware, packing a daily lunch is a pain in the butt even when you don't have a fussy child. With a fussy one it is even worse. But Sidney wants to be like the other kids.....

So we've worked out a deal. Each week we will discuss the school lunch menu and Sidney can choose two days to eat school lunch and two days where he can bring his own. He's already informed me that he wants to eat school lunch whenever they serve fish, pasta or couscous. (Love this and it definitely tempers the rest of our food battles). As for the two days when I pack his lunch, I won't be delivering hot meals the way some of the Italian moms do. Rather, Sidney will carry it to school in his lunch box. The meals will be healthy and balanced but include items he likes and will eat.  This summer Sidney discovered sandwiches so there will be plenty of those. He loves pizza so some weeks my homemade version may be included in his lunch box. Fresh fruit and vegetables will always be present and an occasional sweet treat might be there as well. Of course, the sweets will be home baked by me and won't come with shelf lives that will outlast the school year.

That is our food compromise. Do I anticipate more food battles? Absolutely. I know that some days the lunch box will return home untouched but others it will be empty. Dinners will remain an occasional battleground but I'll take the struggles as long as they accompany successes. New dishes will be on the menu on a regular basis and who knows, we might discover more foods that we all enjoy. After all, you have to eat to live but living to eat makes the experience all the better.

Eating In Maine: A Book Review w/ A Touch Of Homesickness

Right about now I am feeling pretty homesick for Maine. Maybe it is the fact that it has been two years since I made a brief summer visit to the town where I grew up. Perhaps it is because we have another, much longer Maine trip looming on the horizon. Or perhaps it is the decidedly non- summer weather we have been experiencing here in Belgium that makes me crave a warm Maine summer day--the type that is cool and crisp in the morning and evening with just the right amount of heat in the middle of the day. Actually, I think it is the combination of all of the above. Add in the recent arrival of my long awaited Eating In Maine book by Maine food bloggers Jillian and Malcolm Bedell and I just can't wait to "go home." But that trip is still weeks away so in the meantime I've been fulfilling my Maine cravings with their book and enjoying every minute of it.

Now this isn't your ordinary cookbook; part travel guide and part restaurant reviews with 115 recipes (hence the cookbook part) and lots of personal commentary, it is everything I would expect from these two great bloggers. The unknowing might be surprised to learn that Maine has a burgeoning foodie scene but it does. I remember spending a considerable amount of time in Portland a few years ago and being surprised myself at the number of great, innovative restaurants that were available. (Hot Suppa was my go to lunch option during the month Sidney was in the hospital there). And the options aren't just limited to Portland. The Bedells capture these places in their book but also focus on the small, out of your way or casual (this picnic table) eateries that are Maine institutions.


In many respects reading this book (OK, drooling over the photographs) was a type of homecoming for me. Malcolm grew up in the same area as I did only a decade later. But his references to the Maine dining institutions brought all of the memories back for me. Pies at Moody's Diner (do you only get to choose one type?) and hot dogs cooked in peanut oil from Wasses Hot Dogs, (Glenn thought he had died and gone to heaven when I introduced him to this hot dog stand and to this day it is the first place we stop when we hit the Mid Coast area) are an important part of my childhood memories. And then you have Dysart's, the truck stop in Bangor, Maine where nothing tasted better than a hot open faced turkey sandwich after spending a week backpacking in Baxter State Park. These places aren't fancy and would probably be looked down upon by more sophisticated appetites but they are a part of my Maine experience. And then there are the recipes for whoopie pies and dishes that include Moxie. It really doesn't get more Maine than this.

This book not only leaves my feeling hungry but it has me wanting to both cook and eat out at the restaurants they recommend. I don't particularly care for lobster (I know, call me a bad Mainer) but the pictures, recipes and restaurant reviews have me craving a fresh lobster roll.  As for my other meals, I'm still undecided but the options really are limitless. In fact, in this day and age of e-readers, I'm going to allot some of my precious luggage weight to bringing this book to Maine with me. It may be too soon to start packing for the trip but I can certainly start planning my Maine meals and begin cooking my way through their recipes.

(Mostly) Wordless Wednesday: Thanksgiving w/ Albanian Living Magazine

I blogged about the experience here; now you can see what it looked like.

Foodie is NOT A Four Letter Word

"Love people:  cook them tasty food"

                              --Penzeys Spices


I love good food and I'm not ashamed to admit it.  This isn't news to anyone who reads my food blog.  I subscribe to way too many culinary magazines and spend hours on end getting inspired by other's food blogs, I ran out of space on my cookbook shelf years ago, and my kitchen (both of them) cabinets are bursting with gadgets and utensils that regularly get put to good use.  Whether it be eating it, cooking it, or simply dreaming up new recipes, food is often on my mind.  During my long bouts with insomnia I fantasize about new flavor combinations and develop menus for future dinners. When eating out I'm the person who will taste a dish for the first time and then spend the rest of the meal trying to determine the source of all of the flavors with the plan of replicating the dish at home.  And not all food has to be fancy, five star experiences; some of the best food I've ever tasted has been purchased from street vendors or hole-in-the-wall type establishments.  I'll try anything at least once since that is how I've made some of my favorite culinary discoveries.  After all, variety is the spice of culinary life.  For me, all I ask is that food is well prepared with love.  

One of my biggest disappointments about our time in Albania has been the lack of culinary variety here.  I've tasted some good Albanian food but repeatedly walk away from the traditional tables craving more variety since the options presented to us are often limited to just a few items.  While the variety of what is available has improved over the past two years I still find it to be lacking so our trips outside of the country have served as culinary lifesavers where I can enjoy the foods I crave while discovering new foods and flavors with the hope of recreating them at home.  Whether it be noshing on grilled meats from a street vendor in Ljubljana, eating a formal traditional Polish feast in Warsaw, or consuming the best pizza I've ever had at a roadside gas station in Naples, I've enjoyed it all.  As a lover of Asian foods of all kinds, and unable to find really good Asian food here in Tirana, we make it a point to eat at Indian and Thai restaurants in every foreign city we visit.  (The quality of my own Asian cooking has increased significantly since we've arrived here because making it myself has been my only real option).  And of course we also eat as local as we can.  With the exception of the requisite cheeseburger from a Hard Rock Cafe, we avoid western chain restaurants like the plague.  (My family loves good burgers and have yet to find one overseas outside of a HRC that even comes close to the Kelly's Tavern burgers what we are craving).  Repeatedly, I return home from each trip culinarily inspired and always spend the next few days in the kitchen attempting to recreate the dishes I enjoyed so much.

There is a word for people like me:  foodie.  A foodie is simply someone who has a keen interest in food and drink and views eating and drinking as a hobby to be enjoyed rather than a chore that simply fuels their body.  There is nothing wrong with liking and enjoying food but somewhere along the way, and I'm not really sure where or when this happened, being a foodie became a dirty word.  I'm an avid reader of the Washington Post food column and eagerly look forward to food writer Tom Sietsema's weekly online chat about the D.C. food scene.  (Of course Glenn just tells me that this is a form of self imposed torture since I am only able to dream about partaking in all of the dining options).  I've been following this chat for years but have noticed that as of late,  an increasing number of participants have been commenting snidely about the use of the word foodie as though being one is a bad thing.  Why or why is being labeled as a foodie turning into a bad thing?  Is it wrong to like good tasting food and seek it out?  Why should I feel ashamed for caring about what I put in my family's mouths?  Is it wrong that I prefer quality over quantity? (Americans eating at high end restaurants often complain that portions are too small).  Call me a food snob but I refuse to apologize for liking good food.

Yes, I'm a foodie and I am proud of it.  And with that, I'm going to spend the rest of my Sunday cooking up a storm.

Creating Traditions

Because taste testing is a critical
part of making any dish

Traditions.  Countries and cultures have them as do families and individuals.  Traditions may focus on a holiday or annual celebration and they may include arts, music, dance or food.  They may be elaborate and over the top or simple and discrete.   They are something we can look forward to when the we need that little boost or events we remember fondly.  Traditions are what unite us as families, communities, and countries.  For me, traditions are the one thing I can hold onto regardless of where I am living at any given time.  And for those of us living nomadic lifestyles, family traditions are even more important since we are rarely in the same place for long. Whether in the United States, Albania, or soon to be Belgium, my traditions are what ground me and define who I am.

So what are my traditions?  Some revolve around holidays and I'm quickly realizing, most involve food.  Ever since I was a little girl I've always loved the entire festive season between Thanksgiving and Christmas.  Growing up, Thanksgiving was about spending time with family and friends who were like family (and of course eating copious amounts of food).  You never knew who would be sitting around our Thanksgiving table (or tables as has been the case in some years), but that was a part of the fun.  Early in our marriage Glenn and I were a part of the collective group of family and friends who gathered around my mother's table on that last Thursday in November.  But since we've been in Albania and have been unable to join the masses, we've replicated the big "family" dinner by inviting friends to join us in this most American of all traditions.  Following closely on the heels of Thanksgiving, Christmas is another time to celebrate and we have annually held a large holiday gathering at our house--where ever that may be-- for friends, family, co-workers, and neighbors.  The location and guest list may change but the decorations and the food remain the one constant with this tradition being the single party I look forward to hosting all year.

These are all "big" events but on a daily basis, we have developed other traditions involving just the three of us that are just as treasured.  Since we've been in Albania, Sunday mornings are all about leisurely breakfasts at home.  This is the one morning during the week when we don't have any place to go and we fully take advantage of that.  Whether it be waffles and bacon, French toast and sausages, or a variety of other breakfast goodies, we all look forward to these weekend treats.  Sidney is so attuned to our family tradition that the first thing he does upon waking is sniff the air to try to determine what the morning's menu holds in store for him.

And because we are a family who adores their food, we've recently developed another culinary related family tradition.  My boys love their pizza and as such, we've started including home made pizza as a part of our weekly menu.  I don't love it as much as they do, but I love what family pizza night means.  It is the one time I put away my desire to be alone in my clean kitchen. On this night we are all in the kitchen together working in tandem to achieve a single goal.  And we all have our assigned roles.  I'm in charge of making the dough and prepping the toppings.  With his endless level of patience, Glenn is the one who rolls, and much to Sidney's delight, tosses, the pizza dough to prepare it for the next step. And Sidney is in charge of decorating each pizza.  Standing on his stool he anxiously supervises the previous steps waiting for his turn in this whole process.  Of course a lot of taste testing is involved, and the spreading of the sauce and sprinkling of the cheese can get quite messy, but this is all a part of the fun.  Sidney's excitement is contagious as we wait for the pizza to bake and that is why I look forward to this weekly family tradition.  Exotic vacations may be nice but our best memories are being created right here.

Traditions don't have to be fancy; they just have to be meaningful to those involved.   Tonight is another family pizza night and already the excitement is building.  And that is what my traditions are really all about.

Anatomy Of A Dinner Party



I was so proud of my non-blue flowers

Tuesday night we hosted yet another dinner in our home.  As is usually the case, the idea starts out small and manageable but ends up ballooning into something else all together.  And true to form, this is what happened. While I can easily execute a formal sit down dinner for six or even eight without blinking an eye, numbers beyond that start to get unwieldy. When Glenn informed me that we would have a total of twelve (yes 12!) guests at the table I had a moment of panic. Sure, I have done it before but it wasn't easy and I certainly didn't enjoy it yet we were heading down that path again.

So what does it take, beyond a dose of insanity, to execute such a dinner in Albania? 

• Plan, Prepare, and Execute:  Not only did I have to think about the dietary restrictions of our guests but I had to consider which items could be made ahead of time and most importantly what ingredients I could readily find in the local stores.  Sounds simple enough, right?  Logistically, determining one's dietary restrictions via protocol offices isn't always easy.  (Apparently while I think this is a necessary inquiry, Albanians find it strange).  On the flip side, since it only took trips to three separate grocery stores to buy all of my food, the actual shopping wasn't as cumbersome as it had been in the past. Either the supermarkets are stocking a better selection of food items or I'm becoming more adept at composing menus that are actually executable.  However, I did have to use my poor Albanian to explain that I wanted my twenty-four veal fillets to be as is and not coated with the heavy coating the butcher insisted was better.  I was proud of myself when this feat was achieved.

• Start early:  On an ordinary night it takes me forever to julienne carrots for our family of three. Try doing this for twelve people.  The same goes with shredding all of the cheese of baked macaroni and cheese, and dicing onions for the a fore mentioned veal. Everything and I mean everything takes that much longer when you are quadrupling a recipe.  I actually started three days ahead of time and still barely finished under the wire.  And larger recipes mean the need for larger pans. I am horrible at eye balling how much will fit in a pan and only learn the hard, and messy, way.  There is nothing like having to change a pot (or two) mid-course in order to make things work.

• Variety is key:  When we first started hosting these dinners I'd go all out with intricate details that would have been impossible for all but the professionals to implement.  The results were rarely pretty.  Now I know my limits (or as Glenn would say, I'm getting better about recognizing them).  Numerous, bite sized dishes multiplied by four just aren't practical as an appetizer.  Soup on the other hand is.  Pureed soups are elegant and can be made ahead of time.  Because the dinner includes several courses, portions don't and shouldn't be enormous.  As guests we feel compelled to eat everything on our plates and all too often we leave the table feeling over stuffed and uncomfortable.  Small portions of different items allow guests to enjoy the variety of flavors without regretting each bite.  Regardless of what I serve prior to the final course, dessert is always decadent.  (Yet another reason to go easy on the earlier portions).  For Tuesday's dinner I served tiramisu; a flavorful dessert that since it gets better with age, can be made ahead of time). To make the presentation a bit more elegant, I served the cake with hand dipped chocolate covered strawberries.  Berries are coming into season here in Albania so not only were they perfectly ripe but the guests were impressed with my efforts.  (Which actually was pretty effortless).

• Count, count, and recount:  From plates specifically for a cheese or dessert course (these are separate plates) or to miniature pumpkin shaped soup tureens and pasta bowls, I have a lot of dishes.  But I have very few items that match in multiples of 12.  We did have 12 place settings of our wedding china but thanks to over exuberant guests at an earlier dinner, we are now down to 11 of certain pieces and as luck would have it, our basic pattern has been discontinued.  This wouldn't be a problem for a normal sized guest list but when you need every single dish and one is missing you have to get creative as to how things will be served.  I found myself re-working the menu in order to be able to use the dishes I did have.  While I wasn't completely satisfied with the plating, I suspect I was the only one who thought twice about the fact the salad course was served from our fruit bowls and the dessert was served from our salad plates.

• Plan A, B, & C:  Last week I decided that mimosa flowers would be the perfect spring centerpiece. They would have been if the dinner had been last week.  By this week the rain had washed away all of the delicate yellow blooms.  At the same time the flowers from our own garden (Plan B) were not quite in bloom, so I had to find yet another alternative.  While Tirana does have numerous flower shops they all seem to specialize in over-dyed blue roses or charge outrageous prices for the simplest of arrangements.  Although real, there is nothing natural about them.  I think of them as the type of plastic flowers my grandmother kept on permanent display behind her plastic shrouded couch.  After several strike- outs I finally found a flower shop that had enough natural colored flowers in stock.  

• Be Flexible:  (This one is really hard for me).  Whether I like it or not, many things are just out of my control.  As has been the case with previous dinners, we didn't have any electrical or water issues during the lead up to the dinner.  When cooking with a single oven I must plan my timing down to the minute.  Dishes go in as others come out; some items can sit while others must be eaten immediately.  All of this works if things go according to plan.  However, when the dinner is perfectly timed yet the guests arrive considerably later than expected, one needs to roll with it.  Beautifully garnished bowls of soup go back into the pot to be reheated and fresh garnishes are substituted.  I had a brief moment of panic but I think the guests were none the wiser.

• Schedule accordingly:  All of the above planning and execution takes time.   I was relieved that we cancelled our plans to go away last weekend since this afforded me the time to grocery shop, set the table, and begin cooking but the timing of Tuesday's dinner was still less than ideal.  I had meetings to attend on Tuesday morning so I had to go into work.  Glenn was out at a business dinner on Monday night meaning I was trying to prepare for Tuesday and feed ourselves on Monday night all while trying to keep Sidney entertained.  This resulted in Sidney's dinner consisting of two slices of  bread and a cup of red orange juice (his request that I was too tired and harried to fight) and my eating tirimisu filling left overs and a lemon-Parmesan madelaine that had fallen on the floor (observing the five second rule of course) for dinner.

So what were the final results?  In the end we all survived.  Our guests arrived (finally), we all ate, and were merry.  Wine was consumed, conversation flowed, and people left with full stomachs.  Glenn told me that because he was an active participant in the dinner's preparations (due in part to my running out of time and scarily wielding a large knife in the kitchen), he now realizes how much work goes into preparing a dinner for twelve.  I was so exhausted after this ordeal that I had to take Wednesday off to recover.  And it was confirmed that I am partially insane for agreeing to do this in the first place.

Boys In The Kitchen

Its no secret that I love everything there is about food.  From selecting or dreaming up recipes to preparing it and eating it, I enjoy food.  Maybe in my next life I'll come back as a great chef; in the meantime I'm content to cook for my friends and family.  This weekend resulted in a cooking marathon on my part--- nine distinct dishes in two days with only one mishap.

I love the fact that Sidney is taking after his Mamma. Not only does he love food and is always willing to try new things (quite impressive for a three year old) but he loves to help out in the kitchen.  This is big......this weekend he stopped playing with his train set to come into the kitchen to cook with me.  Forget playing house and holding tea parties; my son wants to cook.

Mamma's little helper

Together we made pumpkin doughnuts and to quote Sidney "Oooohhhhh Mamma, these are so good!"  You can find the recipe here.

Happy Birthday Julia!

Today is Julia Child's birthday.  Had she still been alive, she would have celebrated her centennial birthday today.

When I look back on it, Julia Child was instrumental in inspiring me to get into the kitchen and cook.  My earliest memories of Julia revolve around watching her on our old black and white rabbit eared television creating dishes I couldn't even begin to understand.  Despite my young age, I was mesmerized by her distinctively haughty voice as she instructed us on the finer intricacies of cooking. (This was in the days before the advent of cable television so WGBH was one the four channels our television was capable of receiving).  There was something about watching The French Chef on the fuzzy screen that made me want to cook.  At my young age, none of my dishes would have passed muster with Julia; a particularly memorable pan of taffy like candy comes to mind when I think of my earliest culinary disasters......

Although I didn't know it at the time, Julia was so much more than a cook or a public television personality.  She received a degree from Smith College (which, as a Mount Holyoke College alum, I must say, is nothing to sneeze at).  After graduation she joined the OSS where she met her husband Paul.  Together they travelled the world; he worked for the United States Information Agency and she was an early "trailing spouse."  Her desire to break out of the monotony of her life as a foreign service spouse and find her own identity drove her to enroll in cooking school at the Cordon Bleu during a Paris posting and eventually go on to write her first cookbook.  Settling back in Cambridge, Massachusetts after Paul's retirement, it was then Julia's turn to shine as her culinary career took off with Paul supporting her aspirations and efforts.

In time, Julia Child became an unlikely American icon.  Within the first week of it's opening, I visited the Julia Child Kitchen exhibit at the Smithsonian Museum of American History in Washington, DC.  During that initial visit there were so many people crowding into the display area that it was virtually impossible to take in the eclectic tools that lined the kitchen's walls.  Visitors included people old enough to remember her show during its original broadcasts and those who only knew of the Julia legend.  I've made several subsequent visits to the exhibit- after all I lived three short Metro stops away from the museum for over a year.  Each time I returned I noticed new details about the kitchen and gadgets that I hadn't remembered from previous trips.  Some items were kitchen classics- her Kitchen Aid stand mixer that inspired generations of brides to add the item to their registries (I did but I also use mine on a weekly basis) while others were obscure- to this day I don't know the purpose of several of the items hanging from those pegged walls.  Simple wire whisks and wooden spoons reiterate the idea that fancy gadgets and appliances while nice, are not necessary for creating memorable cooking.

My interest in Julia never quite matched that of the "other" Julie who became famous for blogging about Julia Child and her voluminous Mastering The Art of French Cooking. Julie and Julia was one of the few movies I ran out to see when it was released in theaters.  I saw it again when it was released on Netflix.  As it seems to be staple on the AFN movie channel, I have seen reruns more times than I can count.  The story of both Julie Powell the author and Julia Child the chef give me hope that I too, will someday take the plunge and turn my hobby into something that I am passionate about (and pays the bills).

As I have grown older, my love of food and cooking has only increased.  Over time my repertoire has moved far beyond that disastrous taffy incident.  Whether it be pastries, entrees, or appetizers, I love to tweak recipes and make them my own.  I spend hours thinking about the perfect dishes to serve at dinners and receptions.  Experimental dishes are a staple on our weekly dinner menus.  The only limit is the ingredients I can find on the store shelves (which in Albania, is indeed limiting at times).  I find myself subscribing to  numerous cooking magazines and my cookbook shelf has turned into a full bookcase and outgrown its dedicated space in the kitchen.  I love the early Food Network shows, where cooks actually cooked without the competitiveness and drama that dominates today's reality t.v. cooking.  I've spent hours browsing through Williams Sonoma and Sur La Table catalogs, websites, and when accessible, stores, dreaming about the culinary masterpieces I could create.  We may not know what our dream house looks like but I know for sure what the design and layout of the kitchen will be.

Yes, Julia Child inspired me, and millions of others, to go into the kitchen and just cook.  But her inspiration runs much deeper than the pounds of butter she is famous for.  Despite the obstacles placed in her way, she followed her dream.  She fought stereotypes and refused to fit into the mold that was prescribed by the time and her social class.  While finding her own way she supported her husband who in turn, supported her efforts.   And that is truly inspirational.  Thank you and Happy Birthday Julia!