Stories

blueprintcleanse_logo.jpg“This will make you feel awake, and healthy.” The promise made to me as I ordered a 3 day Blueprint Cleanse online recently. The healthy part I believed, but awake? How could 3 straight days of just juice and no solids make me feel anything that I aspire to feel in my waking hours, especially if I’m not even allowed coffee, or as it was gently explained to me, ‘you can have coffee, but you’ll feel better if you don’t have it.’ Marketing disguised as self-motivation proved extremely effective, and sure enough, on Day 3 of the ‘Cleanse,’ I felt extremely awake and alert (albeit short-winded) on a run up Runyon Canyon, (truthfully more of a slow jog behind my brother whose college fraternity has apparently turned him into a drill sergeant.)

But I wasn’t starving, and I wasn’t lethargic.

I am not somebody who can go without food for four hours, let alone three days. I have never been successful on a diet, if you don’t count when I was five years old and had to stop eating French Toast in order to lower my cholesterol. These days I have a genuine interest in being healthy, but not exactly a full-fledged allegiance. So the Blueprint Cleanse, a local New York company, seemed perfect for me.

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lakehouse.jpgI’m a looky-loo. I real estate dream shop online, a lot!!!! Late one night when my husband was safely sleeping,  I forwarded a photo of a house on a lake I had found and the subject said, “Lets buy this instead of doing an addition to our house.  It’s MUCH cheaper.”

So, instead of doing construction , we bought a house online in Quebec.  Doesn’t everyone in L.A. do that?  Come on.  You know you do.

Well, we did.

So, there we were that first week, enjoying our pristine lake when we got our first and possibly only visitor.  It was our neighbor, the retired judge who lives up the road on our quiet lake.

He was there to inform us about ecology and keeping the lake from getting that nasty blue algae that was killing a lot of the other lakes.  First we heard of that.  Perhaps we didn’t research enough.

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sneeze1.jpgYesterday, Shannon gave me a karmic, completely unintentional, gift. He got really, really sick.

And though I can think of eight bazillion things I’d rather do than listen to a man whine in bed, it was an opportunity for me to put a little something in the Bank of Caretaking. My surgery is tomorrow and I know I’ll be making quite a few withdrawals over the next couple of weeks. It’s important to be sure your credit is good before you complete a lot of transactions, you know?

In truth, he slept most of the day, so I got to focus my energy into healing from the kitchen – which is basically my favorite thing to do anyway. Winter has finally arrived in New York (it was in the 50’s last week but won’t get out of the 30’s this week) and I’ve had a taste for something spicy and Asian.

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bloodbonescover.jpgI’ve been simultaneously watching the HBO version of Mildred Pierce, directed and co-written by Todd Haynes, and reading Gabrielle Hamilton’s culinary memoir, "Blood, Bones & Butter", which probably isn’t a fair (food) fight. Hamilton’s prose is as “luminous” (her word) as the parties she describes, even when she takes on the blood, bones, and hard knocks that brought her to where she is today: chef/owner of the Manhattan restaurant Prune.

mildred11.jpgMildred Pierce (Kate Winslet) has her own restaurant, too. It’s called Mildred’s, and the menu consists of fried chicken, biscuits and a side of waffles or vegetables. There’s also pie, lots of it, and once Prohibition ends, as it did in Part III, there’s plenty of hard liquor as well, to wash down all that pie. Monte, Mildred’s playboy lover, calls the restaurant the pie wagon—just one example of his disdain for Mildred. Audiences may not mind, however, that Monte is a loathsome cad; after all, he’s played by Guy Pearce, a luminous presence here. The only other luminous presence in Part 3, besides Pearce’s Monte, was the dress Mildred wore to break up with him—it shimmered the way Joan Crawford’s anger and obsession shimmered in the 1945 film version directed by Michael Curtiz.

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almondsinshells.jpg As we all know, one interesting by-product of the so-called 'economic crisis' is that many of us have become re-acquainted with the things that really matter in life i.e. love, comfort, safety, security, unlimited-ride Metrocards, and food.

I've actually been having a bit of fun learning more and more ways to economize in the Food department, much of which involves, well, cooking. Something I never did in my before-crash life.  I'm one of those people who simply cannot be trusted in the kitchen. I burn – no, scorch – expensive pots, set fire to spatulas (once because I left it in the oven) and have ruined more electric tea kettles than I care to count. How, you ask? I put them on the stove.

I have an excellent excuse which is that I am recovering from a mild traumatic brain injury – but that is another story, not to be belabored here.

The point of this tangent is: I should not, not, not cook. Thus, raw. Thus we come to the point of this particular piece: Why you should crack your own nuts.

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