My grandfather is dying. He may be shuffling off his mortal coil in the next few days. The last time I saw him he was still walking around, making jokes, poking fun of my grandmother. Now, I’m told, he spends most of the time with his eyes closed. He doesn’t eat. It has not been that long.

We call my grandfather Sir. It seems so stiff and formal to people who don’t know him. Who don’t know us. It started out as a joke when my mom was pregnant with me, the first grandchild. Sir doesn’t like grandfatherly names like “grandpa” or “grandpop.”  Someone asked what he would like the first grandbaby to call him. He said, jokingly, Sir. Thirty years later that is what we call him. It is perfect.

My grandfather grew up in Frankfurt, Pennsylvania.  He was, almost literally, found on a doorstep. He was raised by two loving and caring people that he knew as his parents. Only after they died did he learn that they were not his biological parents. To him, they were and would always be his parents. He survived the Great Depression with much more than most people had. As a child he had a pony.

Sir, as I have told everyone I have ever known, was in the 101st Airborne in World War II. He jumped onto the beaches of Normandy on D-Day. He landed in the water and was trapped under his parachute. Someone pulled him up and saved his life. His experience in Europe was traumatic. It took him decades to be able to talk about it. He participated in the 101st Airborne Association and held numerous elected positions. He went to reunions, including the 50th Anniversary of D-Day in France. In 2004 he represented WWII veterans on the field at the Superbowl (Eagles v. Patriots). He got to meet Presidents Clinton and G.W. Bush. (He refused to shake Clinton’s hand!)

When I was a kid, probably around 1992, Sir and Grandmom took me on a road trip to Corpus Christi, Texas to attend a 101st Airborne Reunion. We drove, about 500 miles a day, stopping in various cities. I saw Churchill Downs, crossed over the Mississippi River, went to New Orleans for the first time and visited the Alamo. It was one of the most memorable experiences of my life. It meant so much to me, even then, to arrive in Corpus Christi and meet all of the veterans, heroes of World War II.

My grandfather is a war veteran, a former small business owner, a school teacher, a loving father of five and a grandfather of twelve. He answers the phone in his serious voice, but when you tell him it’s you, his voice lights up.  He wears dungarees and slippers. He drinks tea. He whistles happy little songs. He writes in block letters and he puts smiley faces on our birthday checks. He loves his country. He refers to my grandmother as “Grandmom” or “Mommy,” just like his children and his grandchildren do.  And he loves her so, so much.

I can’t go visit. I’m not strong enough. I can’t have my final memory of him be of a sick man. That is not how I want to remember him. I know it is selfish. Or it seems so selfish to me. But I just can’t do it.  I love him. He’s my Sir. My grandfather.  My hero.

Hello, internet!

This is AmeliaMac, filling in briefly for AnonNY while she’s carousing around Ireland with Sports Fan. A while back, when the lovely AnonNY mentioned that she was looking for some guest posters to keep her blog occupied while she was vacationing, I thought – I can totally do that! I don’t currently have a blog (though I have a URL that I’ve been hanging onto for a while, and just haven’t worked up the nerve to start USING), but perhaps you’ve seen me around the internet before… I do post to The Working Closet on occasion (when I can work up the energy to take and upload a picture – I’m short of breath just thinking about the exertion it takes), and I hang around on Twitter a bit. If I’ve met you before around the WWW, it’s lovely to see you again! If I haven’t met you yet, hello! Perhaps some day I’ll actually jump in and start my own damn blog (that is, other than the super-lame, totally old school journal-style blog I have… that shall never see the light of day, so help me god), so then I won’t have to bogart some else’s blog to chat you all up.

(Quick aside: does anyone else kind of hate Anon a little bit, on account of this ridiculously fabulous vacation she’s currently on?? I mean, seriously – she’s in IRELAND, the land of glorious beer and potatoes, for the express purpose of seeing U2! Does it get any better than that?! I think not. I’m not saying she doesn’t DESERVE this lovely trip – because she totally, totally does – but do you think the girl could have offered up some space in her suitcase to take a few of us with her? I am so not above being relegated to the cargo bin for a trip of this caliber. Perhaps SOMEONE can keep that in mind the next time they plan an awesome trip like this. Just sayin’.)

Anyways, now that I’ve already talked your ear off (about, uhhhh…. NOTHING), this is the point where I admit that I’ve really, really been struggling with what the heck to post about here! AnonNY and I chatted a bit about what I should write about, and we had decided that I should probably stick with one of her frequent topics: FOOD. Truth be told, food is something I know a lot about… I love to cook, I love to eat, I’m starting pastry and baking school next fall – I can talk food all day long. But as much as I’ve been thinking about it, I can’t come up with a single interesting thing to say! So, I figured that I’d turn this into more of a food discussion, instead of me just blathering on all day (yes, I realize I’ve already done that – sorry!)

Here’s the deal: I just got married. A week ago Saturday, actually… and for anyone that’s married, or is in the process of getting married, you can probably imagine how I’m feeling right now – just got home from the honeymoon (Chicago! We did nothing but eat and drink, and it was FAB), exhausted, overwhelmed, ready to settle back into the routine of everday life (although I could live without going back to work). And get this: now I have A BOY living with me. And frequently? He expects to be FED. Weird, right??

This is where you come in… tell me about what you cook and eat, on an everyday basis. When it’s just me, I’m pretty easy to please when it comes to dinner – a Morningstar Farms black bean burger and a baked potato, a big salad, a bowl of cereal. Unfortunately, the husband requires more substantial food than I do… I can certainly bulk up the meals I make for myself, and there are definitely nights when we’re both happy to just shovel some cereal in our mouths and call it good. But, I’d like to cook us both a decent, healthy, filling dinner 4 or 5 nights a week (dinners that make easy leftovers are a bonus!) As I said, I really love to cook, and there are not many foods we won’t eat – we both eat meat of all varieties, but can certainly be happy with a vegetarian meal. Neither of us has any dietary restrictions. We both enjoy trying new foods and flavors.

So, what’s your favorite website for finding new and interesting recipes? What’s your favorite cookbook? What’s your go-to, throw-together-with-a-moment’s-notice dinner recipe? Can you help a girl out, so I don’t starve my new husband to death?

Thanks in advance for your help… I know my husband thanks you too!

(Also, a quick thanks to Anon for letting me take over her blog… hopefully I didn’t break anything, or drive all her readers away. I promise, she’ll be back soon!)

Hello. I am Matty. My Mama and Papa are in Ireland, as you know.  I would like to take this opportunity to clear up a question you may have asked yourself a time or two about my me and my parents.

As you can see from photographic evidence, I wear a coat of fur. It is a nice coat. I therefore have no need for pants.

However, despite the lack of pants, it is I who am in control of the household. They take me out when I ask, I get cookies when I bark, and they share their precious ice cream with me. This… this…  Hagen Daaz. Like gold, this stuff. I am getting tremours just thinking about its creamy goodness.  But I digress.  My point here is to answer the question that is surely on everyone’s minds.

There is a question that needs to be answered. I shall answer it.

It is I who wear the pants in this family. Not Mama. Not Papa. It is I, Matty. I also respond to Monkey.

Who wears the pants?

I wear the pants.

I hope that answers your question.

CREDITS

Matty …………………..Himself

Written by…………………………Matty

Photography by…………………………….Mama

OUTTAKES

How do these work again?

Mama! I'm stuck! Where's my stunt double?

Break! Time for Lunch. Be back in 30.

Someone told him it is "I wear the pants" not "I wear the shirt." Now he refuses to get out of the shirt.

• Last Saturday Sports Fan and I had date night. It was touch-and-go because he was working all day, but we made it out. We started at Toloache Mexican Bistro for dinner. It is definitely a touristy place and the margaritas aren’t very good, but the food was surprisingly delicious. We started out with guacamole and queso fundito. The queso had crimini mushrooms, delish! I had pork tacos with pineapple that were appetizer size — they didn’t have any entrees that interested me — and Sports Fan had braised short rib. We both liked it a lot. We had show tickets and we were in an out quickly.
• After dinner we went to the Roundabout Theater Company’s production of Waiting for Godot with Nathan Lane and John Goodman. It was at Studio 54.  Far less hedonistic than the heydays of the ’70s. I’m a fan of the play and I liked the first act, but I disliked the second act. It felt too Nathan-Lane-slap-sticky. I really liked Bill Irwin as Vladimir and John Goodwin as Pozzo. I dislike Nathan Lane. He was tolerable in the first act, but I abhorred him in the second act. Way too over the top.
• After the play we went to Session 73 on 1st Avenue to hear our friend Alex’s band, Hot Mess, play.  They’re really awesome. Alex sang at our wedding (U2’s With or Without You and the Beatles Oh Darling) and he has an incredible voice. The band was awesome. They played all popular songs and the crowd loved it. I, of course, danced like a fool. It is pretty much an affliction. Anytime I hear music I can’t help but dance, sort of like that dancing Coke can from the ’90s. We were out until after 4am, which is totally unlike me. I’m usually in bed by 11pm.  Sports Fan also danced… you should have seen him cut it up to Billy Jean and Beat It! Awesome.
• On our way back home we stopped for a quick snack. White Castle! Since the White Castle by us doesn’t have drive through, I was left in the cab as, uh, collateral while Sports Fan went in to grab a few burgers. Luckily he came back.

Ok, maybe a suitcase of burgers. But we were hungry! (We didn’t finish them.)

• The next day, well, Sports Fan and I were a hot mess. My foot was killing me because, well, I danced on a not-quite-healed-fracture in not very smart shoes. And there was the usual post-parting malaise.
• This week has been slow. I’ve been feeling run down and finally the cold/flu/death plague hit yesterday. Just in time for my trip to Ireland. I’ve cleared my social calendar and plan to spend the time between now and when I board the plane on the couch. With my dog. Drowning myself in juice. 

If you don’t recall, I’m heading to Ireland next week to see the Emerald Isle and the man who needs no introductions:

Oh yeah. I’ve lined up a few equally cool people to do some posts for me while I’m drinking Guinness and, uh, drinking Guinness. Because I can’t let my fans friends down. But I’d like to have a few more people entertaining the masses who visit this site on a daily semi-regular basis occasionally. So if you’re interested, give me a shout.  Because my readers, man. I can’t live. With or without them.

Lately I have been making a contientious effort to use ingredients I have in the pantry to make dinner. The goal is three-fold: (1) to break the bad habit of buying EVERYTHING I need for each recipe, which costs a lot of money per meal, (2) to use up a lot of random ingredients I have in the pantry and fridge and (3) to push my skills in the kitchen.  This dinner hit the trifecta and also turned out to be really good.

My mission? Dinner.
My ingredients? Chicken thighs, artichokes, sundried tomatoes, parmesan cheese and reggiano cheese.
Did I choose to accept? Well, yeah. That’s why I’m blogging.
Result: Artichoke and Sundried Tomato Stuffed Chicken

Chicken thighs? Yup. I actually like them a lot. They are juicer and do not get as dried out as chicken breasts when cooking. Also? Bonless, skinless chicken thighs are a total bargain at the supermarket. Because this is a dinner made of things I had left in my fridge, the ingredients are sort of approximate.

I did a very simple mixture of artichokes in olive oil (1/2 jar), artichokes in water (1/2 can), both drained, and sundried tomatoes (1/2 jar), also drained. I also added some shallots (1 small, small dice), garlic (1 clove minced),  salt (1/4 t.) and pepper (1/2 t.) and a mixture of the two cheeses (about 2/3 cup combined). I sliced the sundried tomatoes and cut the artichokes in half and mixed everything in one bowl.

I stretched out the chicken thighs and stuffed them as best as I could. Next time I would probably pound them out a little because they are not uniform. I then stuffed the chicken and secured them with toothpicks. I put about 1/2 cup of extra virgin olive oil at the bottom of a pan and browned the chicken on all sides. Then I put the pan in the preheated oven (350°) and cooked for about 35 minutes. When it was close to being finished, I sprinkled some more cheese on top.

There are a couple of other ways I can see myself making it, including a lower fat version. For example, if I use Pam or a little bit of butter instead of 1/4 cup of EVOO, I would put some chicken broth in the bottom of the pan so the chicken would not get dried out in the oven.  But really it is a delicious recipe and, with rice, it was the perfect weeknight meal.

We have a little furry guest staying with us at Casa de AnonNY for the next few days. My friend, Denise, is out of town for work and she left her little Schnauser, Paddington, with us.  Oh my goodness, he is just the cutest, sweetest little guy ever.  The poor baby was abused as a puppy, is missing one eye and is blind in the other. It is just amazing how loving and trusting he is of humans considering his terrible past. But he is really so, so awesome.  And, I’m sorry, funny to watch. He bumps his little head a million times walking around unfamiliar territory. I can’t help but laugh and wince at the same time.

Paddington, aka, Mr. P. What up, Ladies?

He is just as mellow as Matty, so they get along perfectly, sharing the same blanket, moseying around the apartment. It’s really the cutest thing ever. It definitely proves that our apartment is not too small for a second small dog. We’ve been talking about getting another dog since a few weeks after we got Matty and I’ve been wanting one pretty badly for a while now. I just LOVE dogs. I’m the crazy lady you see in the grass with the dogs at the park, playing and wrestling, while the other owners chat on the side. I come home with dirt up to my elbows. But it’s SO MUCH FUN. Ugh. I want one now.

We’ll definitely adopt from either a shelter or a rescue. Obviously the new dog will have to get along with our baby, Matty, and will hopefully have a similar temperament (lazeh bonez). Matty likes Pugs the best. But in the meantime, I love having Paddington around. Sports Fan and I each have a dog to cuddle on the couch. (Matty likes his Mama best, but it’s probably only because I’m around so often.)  Here’s another picture of the boys in Paddington’s stroller, which we use to get to and from the park. There are more pictures here.

I’ve only eaten jambalaya a few times at restaurants and never in N’Orleans, so I’m not sure how this measures up to the REAL stuff, but, man, is it good. Lots of good heat, nice and meaty and even better as leftovers. Actually the picture is from leftovers because I couldn’t even wait to take a picture. I had to dig right in the moment it was done.  Very few recipes do I make over and over again. I’ve been making this one for nearly 5 years. Try it. You’ll love it.

Smoky Shrimp Jambalaya
from Cooks Recipes

I have used all kinds of different sausages and hams over the years. Go with whatever you have on hand or what suits your family’s tastebuds!

1 teaspoon garlic powder 1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground black pepper
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon crushed dried oregano
2 bay leaves
1/4 cup olive oil
3 stalks celery, diced
1 onion, peeled and diced
1 green bell pepper, seeded and diced
1/2 pound fully-cooked smoked ham, diced (I used turkey kielbasa)
1/2 pound smoked sausage, diced (I used chorizo)
1 1/2 cups long-grain rice
1 (14.5-ounce) can diced tomatoes
1 (14.5-ounce) can chicken stock
1 pound large shrimp, peeled and deveined

1. Combine garlic powder, salt, pepper, cayenne pepper, thyme, oregano and bay leaves in a small bowl; set aside.
2. Heat oil over medium-high heat in a large pot. Sauté celery, onion, green bell pepper and mixed spices until tender and fragrant, about 5 minutes. Add ham and sausage and continue cooking 4 more minutes. Stir in rice until evenly coated. Add tomatoes (undrained) and stock and bring to a boil, cover and reduce to a simmer. Gently simmer until most of the liquid is absorbed, about 25 minutes.
3. Stir in shrimp and allow to cook 5 more minutes, until pink. Scoop into large bowls and serve.

I could tell you that I’ve been off on an exotic adventure the past week, so I couldn’t blog, but really I’ve thrown myself a little pity party. So pitiful, in fact, that there were no balloons or streamers. (Plenty of alcohol, though! Wish u were here, xoxo!)  I’m sure my Twitter peeps wanted to reach through the screen and throttle me a few times. I know I’m not the only person with problems. BUT MINE ARE THE WORST IN THE WORLD!!! OH WOE IS ME.

Ahem. I’m coming out of this sinkhole I’ve fallen into. It takes time, you know. (Oh, how you know. You’ve heard. You’ve reassured. You’ve patted my back and wiped my tears. And I appreciate that.)  I had a telephone job interview today that went really well. I’m not saying I’m going to get the job. Or even that this is the right job for me. But it does make me feel a little better.  Daylight! I see daylight at the end of this tunnel! (Or is that just the light reflecting off this Miller Light can?) (Syke. As if I drink Miller Light cans.)  (Yet.)

Really it is the people in my life that have come through for me in so many unexpected ways. Old friends, new friends and, dude, interweb friends. Man, do I love you all. Cookies. If you send it,* they will come.

*It being your address. Or dog biscuits if you don’t want cookies. Seriously, y’all. I OWE YOU. And it will give me something to do.

Sports Fan and I are always musing about leaving New York and moving to another city. But hubris prevents us from admitting that a city exists that is as good as New York City. New York is great, but it is expensive! If we were going to move, where should we go? To your city? To your dream city? Why?