Oddities and Obsessions

Celebrity Stalker

postcard-chicago Have you ever met a famous person and felt let down? I have.

Years ago, I was obsessed with an actor in a series of television commercials. Obsessed. I stopped what I was doing to watch his overly aired ad. I was in love. He not only had charisma, but attitude. Not hot like Johnny Depp or anything, but he possessed that je ne sais quoi.

I just HAD to meet him. There had been a lot of publicity about him and I knew one thing — he lived in Chicago. Well, I just happened to be in that very city. So, I made a few phone calls. I was an actor in commercials, he was an actor in commercials. I knew people. Those people knew his people. Someone pulled some strings.

A man from a huge ad agency would be picking me up at my hotel. My actor lived outside the city. A 45-minute drive. Some really nice person I didn’t even know was willing to make the introduction.

I’m beyond excited. I got all geared up, couldn’t sleep the night before. I never cared much about how I looked, yet I dressed my best. Put on a little makeup. I was ready early, waiting for the car in front of the hotel, over-the-top excited. It would be magic when I met my crush live and in person. We would run into each other’s arms and he would insist on living with me for rest of his life. I’m talking non-stop to this random ad agency dude the whole ride out about my deep infatuation. He’s humoring me, pretending to be in rapt attention.

Pear Madness

I’m going to let you in on a little secret: I go overboard.

Being born with an impassioned gene isn’t really all that bad, though. It allows me to focus on things so acutely and really dive into subjects that might otherwise not have interested me. It allowed me to learn how to rollerskate in the 70s, leaving all the other kids biting my dust (or maybe it was my purple satin shorts, which for a 7-year old boy is probably the fast track to neighborhood ridicule, but so what, I ask?) It’s kept me interested in my job for this long, helped me wrangle and eat my own snails, and allowed me to learn how to play a handful of musical instruments.

It’s also the reason I have found myself up to my eyeballs in pears.

Now, a pear isn’t something you always have around like an onion or a lemon. They’re a truly seasonal fruit and best enjoyed when mother nature tells us they’re ready. And because of this I don’t really think of pears throughout the year. It’s not like I find myself grilling in the middle of July and then suddenly scream out “OH MY GOD THIS RIB SOOOOOOOO NEEDS A PEAR RIGHT NOW!” If anything I’ll scream out because my cocktail is empty. But that’s a whole ‘nuther blog. But my point is this: when I taste that first early fall pear I know I’m on a collision course with that powerful strange facet of my personality.

A Recipe for National Tartan Day

In celebration of National Tartan Day (yep, there is such a thing), we are sharing an amazing recipe by Scottish Chef Jeff Bland to help capture the spirit and character of Scottish Americans and recognize their many contributions to our culture and our way of life. Personally we with we were in Scotland eating this at his Michelin-starred restaurant, but this should be the next best thing.

Loin of Perthshire Venison with Wild Mushrooms, Creamed Potatoes and Chestnuts.

Stretching Past My Comfort Zone

sttropez A few years ago my friend Janet said to me “I’m saying yes, yes to everything.”

I thought, wow, Kimberly just said the same thing to me a few months before. She said, “Fredde, I’m saying yes to everything, every single new opportunity, it’s yes.” I didn’t want to be left behind — I prefer no – so I tried to get out of my comfort zone and sometimes, but not all the time, I was going to say “Yes!”

So what did I do? Nothing. Pretty much nothing. But I did say yes when Janet asked if I wanted to join her writing workshop in St. Tropez. That also meant getting to St. Tropez, which was a whole big schlep. My husband and I were planning a trip anyway so we arranged it around this workshop. I headed out alone to Paris, so I could acclimate to the time change. Two days and several croissants later I found my way to the train station. I had been thinking I should buy that ticket ahead of time, but Janet said it would be no problem getting one. Guess what? I was right and was stuck at the station for hours waiting for the next train. Still, I flowed with it, lost a favorite jacket carting my luggage in and out of bathrooms while I waited. But I finally made it, several hours late — and I might finally be over my romantic fantasy about train travel.

The Care and Feeding of a Shellfishaholic

Hi, I'm Dave and I'm a shellfishaholic. My wife wants me to stop writing about shellfish because they aren't everyone's cup of tea. But I can't resist the temptation. When we were in Boston recently, the one restaurant I had to visit was the Union Oyster House. While Michael and Michelle rested at the hotel, I snuck away and happily indulged in a dozen oysters and a bowl of clam chowder.

Today at the Santa Monica Farmers' Market, Carlsbad Aquafarm had fresh oysters, clams, mussels, and live abalone. I wanted to buy everything. I showed some restraint. I only bought the oysters and clams.

A nice thing about shellfish is they keep in the refrigerator for several days as long as you follow a couple of suggestions. Oysters need to be stacked in a bowl with the rounded part of the shell down, so the oyster sits in its own liquid. Clams will drown if they're submerged in water. Save a plastic basket that comes with strawberries. Cut it in half, put it on the bottom of a bowl and the clams on top. That will keep the clams above any water they spit out while they're waiting in the refrigerator.

Oddities and Obsessions