TRAVELBLOG POST #6 - AT SEA: RIDDLE ME THIS

When we are at home, we live in a 90 year old house with solid wood floors that slope precipitously, a very updated 2014 kitchen, and a tin roof. I loved that house the minute I stepped into it, 15 or so years ago, when we were looking to buy property for professional offices, and I love it even more now that we have converted most of it into a residence.  It is quaint and it is quirky, and I suppose those two words describe me as well, so the house and I are well suited to each other.

See how the floor tilts?

The bedrooms are on the top floor, in what used to be an enormous attic. That conversion was done long before we bought the house, including ruining the original wooden floors beyond repair, so we had to ceramic-tile the entire second floor. The ginormous master bedroom, with it's low sloping ceiling reminds me of a deep, cozy cave.  It's a wonderful place to sleep.  There is plenty of room for a king-sized bed, and we were all set to replace our 40-year old queen, but had to abandon that idea when we realized rather quickly that those 1925 doorways would never accommodate a king-sized mattress's passage.

You can see that nothing is even; certainly not the floor.

The tin roof is relatively new.  In 2004, when Florida was hit with the deadly hurricane trifecta of Charlie, Frances, and Jeanne, our Kissimmee house took some serious damage.  Not as bad as our neighbor, who had a tree pierce the first story roof of his building, but bad enough.  I remember walking into what was then my office on the first floor of our building, looking up and remarking to Rob's secretary Maria, "I don't remember having a skylight over there."

Everything was a mess.  Hundred year old trees all along the surrounding streets had been uprooted.  Above-ground electrical wires were down, along with the poles that had supported them.  An old house located in back of the courthouse was completely leveled, while others were so severely damaged as to be uninhabitable.  Downtown Kissimmee was trashed, which turned out to be a good thing in the long run, but certainly didn't seem so at the time.  FEMA-blue tarps overtook the majority of roofs in our neighborhood.

In time, our insurance company paid for the roof to be replaced, and the neighborhood returned to a mostly pre-hurricane normal, except for my neighbor, an antisocial personality in full bloom, who had been hoping he would be permitted to tear down his damaged property so he could sell that land without an ugly, badly-maintained cinderblock wart there to detract from the true value of the location.  I wish he had been successful as well, but that's water under the bridge, or through the roof, so to speak.

That is my office building behind the sign.  Two historical 

hotels previously sat on that site.

But this is about my tin roof.  This morning, while sitting in bed in our stateroom, enjoying the gentle rocking of the ship (yes, of course I am wearing my wristbands), I could hear the patter of raindrops above me. Very soothing, as it reminded me of that same sound around and above me from our tin roof at home.  Until I remembered that our stateroom is on Deck 5 of a 14 deck cruise ship.  So riddle me this - where were the raindrops coming from?  And why did they stop at the same time it stopped raining outside?

When we completed the move to Kissimmee earlier this year, my world closed in on itself.  On a daily, workday basis, I travel a lot less and enjoy it more.  I live close to my office - I could walk to work if I wanted to - and even closer to the courthouses.  I can walk to Lake Toho, with it's beautiful lakefront park, and stop at Susan's Courtside Cafe on my way back for a nice lunch and an even nicer cup of coffee.

Or I could walk from home in the other direction and pick up pizza from Al's (a Kissimmee institution) or chips from the 7-11 where I also gas up my car, once a month or so.  I don't have a backyard - I have a cobblestone parking lot, much better.  The lawn care dude doesn't need to use a mower on our teeny bit of grassy knoll, because ten minutes with a weed whacker works just fine.  It's a short ride to the Race-Trac for frozen yogurt and do-it-yourself toppings, and my very favorite chip mix from Utz. The Starbucks is nearby, as is a Walmart grocery, and every fast food restaurant known to man.  While I don't eat a great deal of fast food anymore, there is nothing like Long John Silver's to alleviate a deep-fried food craving.

Nearby on Broadway Avenue is an eclectic selection of restaurants and nightspots.  In my office complex right off Broadway is Savion's Place. Awesome food, even Emeril agrees. And then there is Nadia's with her wonderful Mediterranean food, including really good falafel and salad with big hunks of feta, and Broadway Pizza with calzones the size of your head. The Kissimmee Police Department is one minute away, the fire department is two.

Part of the City Centre complex.  Three Sister's Speakeasy
and Savion's Place.  

For the most part, the location is incredible.  Except for the motorcycle gangs, nightly arising from the extreme south end of Clyde Street, and the absence of decent sushi.  I have no idea where the motorcycles come from, but their harmless, noisy parade reminds me of that early scene from the Rocky Horror Show, just before Brad and Janet's tire blew out, forcing them to walk back toward the light coming from the Frankenstein house.  Our dogs are quite diligent about chasing them away.  The motorcyclists, not Brad and Janet.  Yappie dogs, gotta love them.

The back of my office building.  I know, I still can't believe it.

For sushi, we still head back to Hunter's Creek to Mikado, but the distance makes it less likely we're eating sushi.  Same reason my fake nails keep breaking off.

I love this.  The lake, of course, is Lake Tohopekaliga.  Big Toho.

This ship has sushi.  Not the fake-but-fun sushi rolls that used to be served on the  Carnival Ecstasy, along with that Japanese mayonnaise I'm so crazy about, but real Mikado-quality sushi with gorgeous fresh fish (how they managed that on the sixth day of a cruise I haven't figured out, unless we picked up something besides souvenirs in Curaçao.)

We know this because we decided to have lunch there today.  The place is called Bonsai Sushi, and it is right across from the Fahrenheit 555 steakhouse.  Today is a sea day, and very much a food-focussed day, with another English Tea at 3:00 PM and a cruise elegant dinner.  Sushi for lunch fit in with the general theme.  There is an upcharge, but it is relatively minor and oh-so-worth it.  Their menu is a lot more limited than Mikado, which has a menu that needs a Table of Contents.

See what I mean?  No cognitive overload here.  I can definitely handle this. So we ordered the "Ship for 2", and I discovered something I had suspected for a long time. Miso soup sucks.  Rob and Cory order it all the time, but it has never appealed to me.  Anytime I've seen Morimoto use miso paste on Iron Chef, dozens of times, it always looks like something that only Andrew Zimmern should be eating. But, since it came with the lunch, I decided to try it.  One discrete, delicate sniff, and very small, tentative sip.  Oh, feh, or as Nero Wolfe would say, Pfui.  Oh, and double feh - I found tofu in the soup.  I don't necessarily dislike tofu, but the problem is that tofu is only worth eating when it is paired with other flavorful elements of the dish.  Tofu is a flavor-cipher that ends up tasting like the other ingredients in the recipe (unless you are crazy enough to try Korean stinky tofu, another Andrew Zimmern favorite.  Come to think of it, I don't think even he likes it.)  Unfortunately, this tofu had no choice but to taste exactly like the less-than-palatable-to-me miso soup, so let me just put that whole thing on the "No Need to Try Again Shelf" along with blue cheese and truffles.

Robert enjoyed the miso soup tremendously, so I don't want you to think my lack of enthusiasm had anything to do with the quality of food at Bonsai.  Everything was delicious.  Lunch came with a side salad which was just what I was craving, and the California roll (which was all I was able to eat) was full of real crabmeat and buttery avocado.  So very yummy, even without my Japanese mayonnaise.

We already have plans to return for lunch on the next sea day.  Which is not tomorrow - tomorrow we dock at Grand Turk, and I booked a tour of Historical Homes and Museums.

Edamame, yes.  Miso, no.

Tonight though, was our second cruise elegant evening, so I put on eyeliner and high heels and we had a lovely dinner, after watching a terrific live show.  Let me remind you, disco is not dead, and these performers proved it.  For dinner I ordered escargot and the chateaubriand.  Not bad at all, but I would have liked more béarnaise sauce.  I did not order the Baked Alaska for dessert because I never do and neither should you.  When it is Baked Alaska night on a Carnival ship, order the warm melting chocolate cake for dessert.  You will thank me.

Time to Make the Sufganiyot - Easy Donuts, Part I

Hanukkah is in full swing right now.  It started at sundown on Tuesday, December 16, and will end at sundown on December 24, just in time for Christmas Eve.  Last year Hanukkah was so early it fell on Thanksgiving weekend, and we called that holiday season "Thanksgivukkah", and that would have been the perfect holiday for a Turducken.  Too bad I didn't think of it in time, but as you know, when it comes to me and Turducken, I am always a day late and a dollar short.

Hannukkah is the polar opposite of Tisha B'Av, which commemorates the destruction of the First and Second Temple in Jerusalem, and the expulsion of the Jews from the Land of Israel. It is the saddest day in the Jewish calendar, and it is a fast day.  If we're going to be sad, we may as well have a headache.  Hanukkah is a happy, snappy holiday, commemorating the rededication of the Second Temple.  It is most definitely not a fasting holiday.  It is a major eating holiday. Heartwarming foods filled with love and cholesterol.  It's all about the oil, like a lot of things in the Middle East, so with the symbolism worthy of Sigmund Freud, we eat foods that have been fried in oil.

If you're Ashkenazic like me, that means potato latkes - grated potato combined with onion, egg, and flour or matzo meal, formed into patties, and fried in oil, till GBD (according to Alton Brown, that's Golden Brown and Delicious).  If you're Sephardic, you are a fan of this gentleman:

Or as they are called in Hebrew, sufganiyot.  The fried kind, of course. Traditionally jelly doughnuts, but no one is seriously going to turn down an original glazed Krispy Kreme.

Now in addition to fried goodies, it is also something of a tradition to eat dairy during Hanukkah in commemoration of the Jewish heroine, Judith. Cheesecake, cheese blintzes, cheese latkes, that sort of thing.  If you can fry your cheese dish, so much the better!  Sour cream is also an important part of the cheese experience.  Breakstone sour cream, for instance.  Hanukkah cheese heads are crazy about this guy:

Twins!

(Of course the actor who played both Fred the Baker and Sam Breakstone at around the same time, back in the eighties, was Jewish.  I bet Hanukkah was his favorite holiday.)

I almost always make potato latkes around Hanukkah, and that's still my plan, but I wanted to try something totally new.  Time to make the sufganyiot, folks.

This recipe has been around a long time.  I first saw these biscuit doughnuts being prepared by Paula Deen years ago.  When I went looking for the recipe today, I came across a couple of glazing options that were even easier than the  doughnut, which is pretty darn easy.

2 tubes of Pillsbury's Grand Biscuits, Buttermilk
Canola oil for frying
1 tub prepared frosting (I used Pillsbury vanilla.  It was already colored a bright Hanukkah blue)
1/2 capful almond extract

Lay out the biscuits on aluminum foil or wax paper.  Cut out the center with a cookie cutter or a bottle cap.  Save the centers to make donut holes.

Preheat about a half-inch of oil to 350 degrees.  I used my electric fry pan, but you can do this on the stovetop.  Carefully place the cut biscuits into the hot oil.  Do not overcrowd the pan, because these are going to puff up.  When the first side is done, carefully turn each donut over.  I used Korean chopsticks to do this.  You can use tongs, two forks, even a spatula.

Remove the donuts to a wire rack set over foil and then paper towels.  Then add the almond extract to the frosting and stir well.  Microwave the frosting for 30 second, stir well, and pour into a bowl that is wide enough in which to dip the donuts.  Dip the tops, return to the rack, and sprinkle on any toppings like sprinkles, nuts, coconut, etc.  Let the icing set.

 

I brought these in for our Children's Legal Services Holiday Party.

Party animals, every last one of them.

TRAVELBLOG POST #5 - CURACAO: KNIT SO FAST, BUDDY

KNIT SO FAST, BUDDY ...

There you have a finished hand-sock with a perfectly grafted toe.  Not too shabby, if I say so myself.  I am relieved that I have finished with the dreaded Kitchener stitch yet again.

And there you have the tools of my downfall.  That's no innocent ball of yarn and that is definitely not an innocent set of size 1 double-pointed needles.  Those are the components of a terrible psychological condition called Second Sock Syndrome.

The Kitchener stitch always leaves me cranky.  My neck is sore and my eyes hurt, but I absolutely cannot finish the toe decrease without grafting it closed.  That would be even worse than Second Sock Syndrome, that's First Sock Sacrilege.  So it's done, and now I want to sit in bed, relax, eat a piece of chocolate, and read some more of my new Patricia Cornwell.  Knit so fast, buddy, you've got another sock to cast on first!

Oh crap.  Rule Number One, the Doctor always lies ... sorry, wrong Rule Number One.  Rule Number One of sock knitting is that upon finishing one sock, you have to immediately cast on the second sock, thus seriously reducing your chances of falling victim to Triple S.  It's not foolproof, but it helps.  So I gritted my teeth, so to speak, and cast on 64 ridiculously small stitches.

If I was really bound and determined to get this second sock underway, I would start the first row, which is a simple knit 2, purl 2 rib, and then move on to the second row, which would require me to divide the 64 stitches across 4 needles and then join them so I can knit in the round.  That's the part that brings out my clumsy side and makes the Kitchener stitch look like a walk in the park.  That's the part that's not getting done.  That's me, the rule-breaker.  The rebel.  The passive aggressive libertarian.  The rational anarchist.

Tomorrow is another day and anyway, I'm on vacation.  Which reminds me, we are underway again and headed to Curaçao.

Ahhhh, Curaçao - what an absolutely lovely island.  Our tour guide was even better than from yesterday's tour on Aruba, and he was pretty good.  I took a bunch of photos, a lot of them with my friend Chris A. (no relation to Cookie A) in mind.  She is crazy about Key West and the islands; deep blue water and white sand beaches make her smile.

Curacao is a beautiful island,  Most of the homes and properties are well-tended, and there is less visible poverty. I love how organized Curaçao is (at least according to our guide), and how the public schools require the study of at least 4 languages, including Dutch, English, Spanish, and the native language which is a composite language itself, with availability and encouragement to learn German and French.

I enjoyed learning more about the history of the Dutch presence in the islands.  And the Jewish presence as well; the oldest extant Sephardic congregation in the Western Hemisphere is on Curaçao.

My Dutch relatives, the Nathans (Natan?) arrived in the U.S. during the 1700's, way before my Sarif, Albert, Osherowitz, Teitelbaum or Galanter relatives made it here from Mother Russia.  Unfortunately, I have no information prior to their arrival in the States.  I don't know if they were Sephardic or Ashkenazic.

I do know that once I have access to the internet again, I am going to do some lengthy research on the family through Ancestry, on Dutch Jewry, the connection to the Inquisition, and most important, what kind of food did they eat?  Besides worstenbroodjes, I mean.  Sephardic Jewish cooking is quite different from what most Americans think of as traditional Jewish cooking, which follows Ashkenazic traditions.  Think Middle Eastern versus Eastern European.

And while you're thinking about that, I'm getting ready to do this thing - knitting that first row in the round (hereinafter, just round.  Although it should be called knitting in the square.)

Curacao in Curacao

Free tasting!

Knitting in the square: all you need is practice, young grasshopper.

The approach to the Curacao Museum.

Now crossing over the halfway point of the vacation, I am relaxed enough to admit I feel no guilt over leaving the office for an entire week.  It's the way the world should work - my colleagues are graciously covering for me, and I will (and always have) gladly return(ed) the favor at any time.  I really worked my tiny heiny off preparing each and every case.  I met with every case manager, took notes, asked questions, made suggestions.  I love working with social workers.  They never cease to amaze me with their level of devotion to the families they serve.

Looking through a doorway at the Curacao Museum

Early night.  Delicious sleep.
                                                                                             

Mise en Place - Absolutely Unauthentic Singapore Noodles

Mise en place (French pronunciation: ​[mi zɑ̃ ˈplas]) is a French phrase which means "putting in place", as in set up. It is used in professional kitchens to refer to organizing and arranging the ingredients (e.g., cuts of meat, relishes, sauces, par-cooked items, spices, freshly chopped vegetables, and other components) that a cook will require for the menu items that are expected to be prepared during a shift. The practice is also effective in home kitchens.

The cruise is already a memory, and we are Home.  Sitting on my couch with my furry kids, watching the news, searching the net for stir-fry recipes.  We've already been to Publix, put things away, moved right back into our comfortable routine.  I feel good.

We had stir-fry from the Mongolian grill one day for lunch onboard.  It was pretty good, but I felt it lacked that garlic-ginger punch to bring it up to another level.  I was sure I could do better, so of course I had to buy the ingredients in Publix and of course I had to work out a recipe right there and then, and of course I had to try the recipe right there and then.  Sometimes, my enthusiasm is only exceeded by my stupidity, and this was one of those times.  I was more tired than I realized and while stir-fry is simple to cook, it is exhausting to prepare.  Before you fire up your wok, it is critical that every single ingredient be prepped and ready to go.  That is mise en place, and never is it more important than when you are cooking stir-fry dishes.

Absolutely Unauthentic Singapore Noodles

The Meat:

6 oz. frozen extra small cooked shrimp, defrosted under cold water, patted dry, and sprinkled with the garlic pepper blend (next time I will try this with 8 oz. of medium shrimp)

12 oz. boneless pork (I used boneless butterflied chops, about 1/2 inch thick), marinated and cooked according to directions below

Pork Marinade:

1/2 cup hoisin sauce

2 tablespoons orange blossom honey

1 tablespoon soy sauce

2 tablespoons white wine

1 teaspoon sesame oil

1 tablespoon Heinz ketchup

Place the pork into a ziploc bag.  Combine the marinade ingredients in a 1-cup glass measuring cup, then pour over the pork.  Seal the bag, turn it several times to insure all of the pork is coated, and then place into the refrigerator for 4 hours.

Pour a shallow layer of water in the bottom of a roasting pan. Place a wire cooling rack in the pan and put the pork on top, reserving 2/3 cup of the marinade. Roast the pork at 425 degrees for 15 minutes then turn the heat down to 350 degrees and continue cooking for 15 minutes more, carefully and generously brushing on the remaining marinade as you go.  Finish with not more than a minute under the broiler.  Let cool and cut into thin strips.  Do not discard any liquid left in the bottom of the pan; it's made up of water, juices from the pork, and any of the marinade that dripped down, and may be used to moisten the noodles at the end.

The Noodle:

1 - 8 oz. package Hokan Chinese Noodles (Mein), cooked according to package directions, rinsed in cold water, left to drain completely in colander

The Spice:

3 tablespoons curry powder (or more to taste)
2/3 cup reserved marinade
4 garlic cloves, crushed and chopped
2 tablespoons peeled and grated ginger root

1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
Garlic pepper blend

The Vegetation:

1 thinly sliced medium carrot, blanched in boiling water for 2 minutes, drained and set aside

1/2 very large onion (Vidalia or other sweet onion), slivered

1 small green bell pepper, thinly sliced

3 small stalks bok choy, white and some green parts, sliced (definitely using more of this next time)

1 -16 oz. bag Publix frozen Japanese Blend (broccoli, green beans, red peppers, mushrooms), defrosted under cold water, well-drained in colander  (the next time I prepare this, I plan on using more fresh vegetables instead of this frozen mix.  Probably broccoli florets, green beans, and cauliflower, blanched like the carrots, fresh shittake mushrooms, and a fresh red bell pepper.  Maybe some bean sprouts. I am also going to hit the Asian food aisle for canned sliced water chestnuts.)

1/2 cup frozen corn (also 1/2 cup frozen peas.  I just did not have any in the freezer.)

The Big Finish:

2 eggs, beaten with a pinch of salt and a splash of sesame oil
4 tablespoons peanut or canola oil

Preparation:

First, take a look at the photo at the beginning of the post.  That is my final mise en place of ingredients, lined up in the order they will be going into the wok (I use an electric wok, which was set up to the right at the time I shot this.)  It takes a lot of work to get to this point, but it is the only way to prepare stir-fry.  Right to left: the garlic-ginger-curry powder mixture; fresh vegetables; frozen vegetables; eggs beaten with sesame oil; cooked pork and defrosted, seasoned shrimp; and the noodles, which have been tossed with the remaining marinade and curry powder.  Most if not all of these components can be prepared hours ahead of time, even the day before.  Take everything out of the refrigerator about a half hour before you are ready to start cooking.

To the cooked noodles, add half the curry powder, and the 2/3 cup of reserved marinade. Toss together well until the noodles are well coated. Set aside.

In a small bowl, combine the garlic, ginger, red pepper flakes, and the remaining curry powder and set aside. 

Set up separate bowls of the following: the fresh vegetables; the frozen vegetables; the cooked pork and shrimp; and the beaten egg.

Heat the oil in a wok until smoking, then add the garlic and ginger mixture. Stir-fry for 30 seconds until fragrant, then add the fresh vegetables. Stir-fry for a couple of minutes, then push to the side of the wok and add the egg. Allow to cook undisturbed until almost set, then scramble into the other ingredients in the wok. Add the defrosted vegetables, the shrimp, and the pork; toss together and then cook covered for several minutes until the broccoli is soft but not mushy.  Remove the cover. Finally add the noodles and toss everything together for a couple of minutes until it's all well combined.  If the stir-fry seems dry, add some of the liquid from the pan in which the the pork was cooked (cook down first if a bit if too watery).

It turned out to be a darn fine stir-fry. Upon reflection, it was well worth the ill-timed effort on my part.