Welcome to My Love…


IMG_1505Welcome to my love, come on in and make yourself at home. Welcome to my life. I know everything is gonna be alright. Welcome to my love oh darling . Come on in and take all you want…(Rachelle Ferrell)
…Compiling a new Playlist for walking/dancing around the house/ wine tasting with me myself and I/feel like I’m the only person in the world who understands me Times.
I guess this is the Boomer version of a mixed tape. Although I don’t ever remember compiling any. I did however, receive a few from suitors who were really trying to impress me…they knew I was a music lover…and in many cases, it worked! Often the music from their carefully chosen collection of love songs dedicated to me played on long after the relationship ended. And when I’m in a sentimental mood, I can still break out one of those tomes and a box of tissue and reminisce with the best of them.
…I was one of those folks who used to buy a vinyl record and wear it out, playing a favorite song over and over until the whole record was ruined. It was only recently that I took my decades old collection to a dealer (record) and parted with it for a very paltry sum. I really wanted to keep some of those old jacket covers but read that they can be fodder for bugs (they eat the glue) and who needs that.
…My love of music traces back to my early days listening to my Dad’s jazz collection. He had hundreds of vinyl records and ALL the greats. My favorites were Miles, Frank Sinatra, Nina Simone, and Nancy Wilson. Every Sunday, the house would awaken to the melodious sounds of these and other jazz greats setting the tone for our Sunday family breakfast ritual, Sunday school/church (the only Black Presbyterians in town), a car ride afterwards through the tunnel to visit family/friends, or if it was Summer, an impromptu picnic at the lone Black beach.
…Little did I know that this music would become the background for my life. And as my teenage tastes gravitated to Motown and later Hip Hop, I always kept a few staples of jazz in my collection.
…Recently, I was purging my CD collection prior to a move and decided to box up many of my Verve label hits…many of them standards my Dad used to own in vinyl…and present them to him as a gift on Father’s Day. The sly smile that played across his face was priceless and his soft thank you…music to my ear.
….Fortunately, I did not invest much money in tapes back in the day, as I could see they would be short lived. Cassette tapes always got tangled up and required the owner to keep a pencil nearby for such emergencies. I welcomed the CDs for their clarity of sound, long lasting, almost inability to scratch, can play in a car/Beatbox/computer/Walkman versatility.
…Sadly, my CD collection does not get much use these days. It has been hijacked by the likes of itunes Amazon, and easily downloadable singles. I’m still waiting for someone to give me the link to the free downloads site…but I guess those guys are all waiting for bail.
… After discovering the joys of Playlists, I can always find time to organize My Music, unlike my life, in nice, neat,easy to access categories. This technology, of course, ensures the appropriate music for any occasion whether it be a brisk calorie counting walk, a long train rain, an even longer car ride, a gathering of friends or just some ME time dancing, lipsync-ing, contemplating, raging, namasta-ing (not a word), loving my way through this life.
Play On!

Hacking Recipes

Reader, This is part 2 of my abbreviated Foodie post from last week in which I shared some thoughts/pics on Foodism ( not a word).

Lest you think I am only a Restaurant-goer, here are some pics and back stories representing my own home cooking abilities ( all the single men gasp and drop their remotes…dang a woman who can rattle those pots and pans…where is she?)

A few years ago, I learned how to batch cook . In fact, I had been doing this for years, but didn’t know there was a term for it. Simply put, it is the idea of preparing several meals at one time, usually done on the weekend to eliminate that running-in-from-work-at-the-last-minute-trying-to-prepare-a-meal syndrome.

I have learned that in some Foodie circles, it has been elevated to a social event complete with wine pairings where folks gather at individual homes and batch cook and socialize at the same time…kinda like an old school red/blue light in the basement party..but not really).

This ratatouille is a recent product of a batch cooking tequila fueled session. Back story: I was alone. I had insomnia. Food Network episodes ended at 3:00am. I had a crisper full of one week old summer veggies. Voila!

This cinnamon peach bread pudding is actually part of a video I taped for an audition tape to the Food Channel. The recipe was courtesy of one of the Food Network guys and I was attempting to demonstrate how to make this yummy dessert by substituting some of the called for ingredients for those I actually had on hand. What the hell is a cinnamon chip? Who has peach preserves..I thought they only did that with strawberries? 6 eggs..guess they never heard about garbanzo bean juice. Remember cholesterol clogs and kills. Half and half? Okay, here’s some coconut milk… This is, after all, the mark of a good cook…


And I must say, it was scrumptious…my taster friends practically licked the pan.

That same batch cooking session ( started as a cleaning the refrigerator moment) yielded a huge pot of creamy black bean soup, fiery jerk chicken wings, a heavenly Greek moussaka, and a baked crab/zucchini dish I would give my first borne for… just kidding T, maybe the second born.

Writing about food, always makes me hungry…guess its a Foodie side effect…so I need to put this tablet down and go rummage through the fridge before I become h-a-n-g-r-y…another Foodie term. Hey, maybe there’s a market for a Foodie dictionary…

I digress…often

Bowls of food have become the latest food phenomenon. I think it has its origins in Asian fare…but all the ethnic food folks are starting to make their version of this space saving, visually appealing, can-be-eaten -with -one -hand -while driving/texting meal.

Even fast food giants have gotten into the act with a glop of potatoes, topped by a glop of corn, topped by those poor genetically manipulated bird parts…all smothered in heart stopping gravy…hmm yum.

Here is a healthier , life giving version. This mound of fresh veggies and soba noodles became a steaming bowl of stir fry sans protein and seasoned with a mixture of Hoisin, ginger, garlic and red chili oil.

Bon appetit!




Like many others, I am a Foodie.

Not sure what the official Webster or Wikipedia definition is, but I define it as someone who simply enjoys eating. This is NOT food addiction leading to obesity and a starring role on Reality TV kind of thing.

Although, I confess, I sometimes watch those shows when I find myself thinking about Chunky Monkey in the pre dawn hours of an insomnia riddled night. I also sometimes channel surf to Hoarders and Catfish when I feel my depression turning to obsession.
Watching those shows is more of a preventative measure on how to avoid a pleasurable experience becoming an addictive one. (Note: This is probably where the mind doctors pick up their pads, raise their eyebrows and start scribbling furiously).
Most Foodies are not threatened with obesity simply because Nature has provided us with a high metabolism, a treadmill or good genes that keep us from tipping the scales. Girl, I am tired of you skinny b*****s talking about how you can eat Anything and not gain weight.
What the world doesn’t know is that we are… eating our feelings.
My journey as a Foodie began back in the lazy hazy days of Black hippiedom when eating natural was all the rage. Back to Earth was our slogan and Vegan/Vegetarian restaurants, Juice Bars, and Farmers’ Markets abounded in the city of Lost Angels. These were not the trendy places seen on Food Network and Travel Channel today, but often little patchouli scented neighborhood joints with a few Goodwill cast off tables and a well worn counter. And like Cheers, everyone really did know your name.
Fast forward to Real world adulthood-jobs, taxes, Xanax. Being a Foodie became a form of entertainment where an otherwise boring, mundane evening could be transformed by a trip to the local market or, if funds allowed, sampling the offerings at one of the ever increasing ethnic restaurants sprouting up across the City.
For a Southern born grits and gravy girl eating out was sheer heaven. And according to many of my fellow Foodie friends can be something akin to orgasm.( Or at least will cause you to break out in the foot happy dance where your feet literally start tapping the floor).
Girl please food aint never been as good as sex.
Today, Boomerism and Foodie are synonymous for many Golden Girls/Guys. Eating out, always a big part of any family gathering, now takes on an elevated meaning for ladies/lads of leisure. It has become the alternative to a date and often takes the form of meet ups, food/wine/beer tasting, food truck rodeos, etc .

And like the proverbial kid in a candy store, there are so many eateries to choose from…a plethora of tempting sights, smells and textures all designed to satisfy any craving/fantasy/heartbreak/disappointment/joy life sends your way.
Eat, drink, and be Merry!

Love Hurts…Sometimes

While watching the recent Wedding, I like most watchers was struck by many things , but the Thang that really struck me…as in my mouth dropped open ( and not from the 7:00 am Sangria I was partaking of while watching this event)…was the fact the groom invited his 2 exes…and they lawd have mercy…accepted. What parallel universe do these folk live in?
And yes, I read the justification by the press via social media…these women were Still friends of the groom and he has such a small circle blah blah blah… it was important that they share in this momentous event in his life.
I’m sorry but…I can’t.. won’t try to comprehend this. I did notice that one of them was dressed in black or navy…fashion statement or message to the happy couple?
I guess the millennials have a different “how to deal with your exes playbook”.

As a liberal boomer, this is certainly far left of anything I’ve ever heard of…and I don’t think I’m alone. Hell! I know I’m not alone..100 sisters are simultaneously shaking their head in amazement as I type this. And before you whip out your tablets to respond…don’t forget I am a Libra…in Love with Love.
Like my girl, Jill Scott  rhymes in her  “My Love” lyrics…
Yo, I’m tripping right/ I heard you got married/You got married?/ No, I mean it don’t make any sense/ I didn’t think you were seeing other people/I mean I was seeing other people…(Jill smiling impishly and deductively)
At least he had the good sense not to invite her to the event.
Tally ho!

Love and Light…

As always, thank you for Reading/Commenting/Sharing!