Words and Pictures

A month ago we were in France. This was our second Go Ahead Tour and we had a truly memorable time.

As I did with our 2012 tour to northern Italy, I wrote a travelogue (travelblog?) of our trip on my other blog space. I included galleries of most of the photos we took, including photos of the memorable foods we ate. This was, after all, a food and wine tour.

Go Ahead features a regular blog on their site, including photos posted by travelers and Go Ahead staff members. I sent the link for my blog to the editor of that blog, who asked me to submit a food photo and a non-food photo from each destination along the route for publication on their blog.

I emailed my submissions today, and am anxiously awaiting seeing my photos in pixels on Go Ahead's site.

The Calm After the Storm

I'm sitting on the back porch after this afternoon's rainstorm, finishing a glass of a lovely Sauvignon blanc that was a gift from Saturday night's dinner guests. (This was the coolest bottle of wine. It had a glass stopper rather than a cork. I think I'll start using it as a carafe d'eau on the dinner table.)

As I watch the chipmunks chasing each other around the yard and the robins searching for worms, I'm reminded of the last two times I watered my hosta bed while waiting for this storm system to come our way.

No sooner had I stretched out the hose and started the sprayer than a robin hopped onto the lawn about 10 feet away from me, waiting for the worms to surface.

Who knew birds understood cause-and-effect? I sure didn't!

I guess "birdbrain" is no longer a slur.

(As I was typing this post, two chipmunks went tearing across the porch and ran up the wall behind me. I think I startled them as much as they startled me!)

New Kid in Town

While running errands the other day, I noticed the location of a favorite restaurant that closed a couple of years ago was sporting a new tenant. What was Harry & Jean's on Ironwood Blvd. in Canfield is now Whitefire Grille|Spirits. When my errands were complete, I treated myself to lunch.

The interior doesn't appear to have been changed from the Harry & Jean's configuration. There's a feel of understated elegance. It's not white tablecloth, but the tables have a dark wood finish that is quite lovely. The wait staff is attired in all black, with ankle-length white aprons.

When I sat down at my table, I noticed large wine glasses with the logo etched into one side. Nice. And then I saw the large wooden pepper grinder and the—are you kidding me?!—Morton's Sea Salt Shaker. I have that same shaker at home IN MY CUPBOARD. I pull it out to season my cooking. I do NOT place it on the table when serving a meal!! Not nice.

The feel of elegance continued when the menu arrived. This is a "scratch kitchen" and "chef-inspired". Of course, one has to pay for that elegance. Lunch entrées were in the $10-$15 range. I ordered the Lobster Macaroni and Cheese, which is accompanied by a house salad. I asked for balsamic vinegar dressing, which my server, Kayleigh, stated was a white balsamic. The salad portion was generous, and the dressing was delicious. However, on Thursday at 12:30 with a not-packed house, I had to wait 15-20 minutes for my salad to arrive. Kayleigh apologized for the wait, but really, what does it take to quickly put a salad on a plate? You don't need the chef to do that task!

When the entrée arrived, I noticed that it was the standard oversized entrée, meaning I'd have half for lunch the next day. The lobster seemed a little chewy or rubbery to me, but I don't have lobster very often, so maybe that's how it's supposed to be. The mac/cheese was a little runny; there was a liquid at the bottom of the bowl. To me, that's a dish that's normally baked solid, or has a fairly solid consistency. Where did this liquid come from? The dish included fresh chopped tomatoes and pea pods, which were tasty and added a nice texture to the dish.

Kayleigh asked if she could bring a box for my leftovers. When she did, she had affixed a label to the front of the black styrofoam container. The label was marked with the name of the dish and the date it had been served. I love that practice, which I have only experienced once before, at Pomodori Italian Eatery on Hilton Head Island.

I wanted to try their desserts. Kayleigh had to recite the list to me and—of course—didn't give me any prices. I hate asking the prices—it makes me feel cheap. (I'm sure I'm not alone, and that restauranteurs take advantage of that idiosyncracy). Therefore I like being given a dessert menu so I can make an informed decision. Alas, there is no dessert menu. I chose the carrot cake, which has almonds, walnuts, and pecans—and a wonderful texture. It was a large portion, and cost $6.00. (Why is Cheddar's the only restaurant in town that offers a selection of small, inexpensive desserts?)

As I was finishing my meal, I asked Kayleigh if they were on "soft open". In my long wait for my salad, I was searching the Internet to view their website. I could find no website and no Facebook page, so thought maybe they hadn't had their grand opening yet. She told me that they opened four weeks ago. I expressed surprise about the lack of social media and Internet presence. She said the wait staff had all been telling the manager that they needed this and that they needed advertising. But the Whitefire management doesn't seem to think any of that is important.

Is this going to be yet another Youngstown-area restaurant that is doomed to failure? I hope not, but unless they change some of their habits and get their name out and their reputation secured, that's exactly what will happen.

By the way, on the label on the take-out container, their website URL was prominently listed. When I opened my iPhone's browser and navigated to that URL, I saw "This Page Is Under Construction - Coming Soon!" Not even a placeholder page with their logo and information. Nothing.

To the management: you can't make money if no one knows about you.

The Daffs Are Coming! the Daffs Are Coming!

I love daffodils. I don't love winter. I can endure a couple of months of cold weather, but after too many below-freezing days in a row, I start moaning and groaning and annoying everyone around me. But once the spring bulbs start picking their green shoots through the ground, I sense that I can make it through the cold; I can stand to don a coat for a few more days.

April 9 was the day. I was backing out of the driveway to head to my aqua exercise class at the gym when I saw them: three little daffodils adjacent to the basement window.

And every day since, a few more have popped up and out.

Yellow abounds. I will live through another winter!

Define: Gallbladder

Quick—can you tell me the function of the gallbladder? I had noooo idea. I pride myself on having been raised by a doctor and a nurse and living a relatively healthy life. But I don't recall ever having had a discussion about gallbladders.

I do get headaches. All sorts of headaches. You name the type of headache and I've probably experienced it at least once. Lately—living in Northeast Ohio where the weather rolls across the Great Lakes and slaps us in the face—I get frequent weather-related headaches. Over the past eight days there were four high/low/whatever systems that blew across. With each one of them, I got a horrible sick headache that made me sick to my stomach and wouldn't go away all day.

When I get a sick headache like that, there are a couple of foods I can eat that make me feel better. Now, this may seem silly, but I'll make a bowl of cheese grits (yes, I'm a Southerner) or nuke a frozen pizza. Those foods sit lightly on my roiling stomach and help me feel better.

Monday I was sick all day. Horrific pain in my head and stomach that had ten-foot waves. I did what I had to do, including a run to the grocery store to get lunch stuff for the Jazzman. While there, I picked up a Red Baron 4-Cheese personal-size frozen pizza. When I got home, I put the groceries away and then nuked my pizza. Heaven! Finally, when coated by cheese grits and then pizza (yeah, okay, and a little b&J's Coffee Heath Bar Crunch on top), my stomach felt like it would be settled enough for me to sleep through the night so I might wake up pain-free in the morning.

And then 12:30 a.m. came and the pain in my chest woke me from a sound sleep and made me start googling "heart attack symptoms women". After lying there worrying for over half an hour, I finally woke up the jazzman and told him we needed to go around the corner to the ER.

As you've probably already figured out from the lead-in, the problem was a very unhappy gallbladder. Very. The word "distended" was used as were the words "surgery" and "remove."

Early next Monday morning I'll undergo a HIDA scan and then have a mid-morning appointment with the surgeon. We'll see what happens next.

You can bet I'm reading everything I can lay my hands on and watching everything I put into my mouth. That kind of pain? I hope never to experience that again.

Signs and Wonders

A long time ago, in a marriage far away, I had a husband who pinched his pennies until they bled copper. If the last person in the room didn't turn off all lights upon leaving (even for a few minutes …), he was incensed. The offender would be chided and reminded.

The basement in this home was the place that caused him the greatest annoyance. After his son left the basement lights on one too may times, Husband took a pen and a piece of paper and wrote a note that said, "Turn Off the Lights." He then taped the note above the wall switch, in hopes it would cause everyone leaving the basement to turn off the lights.

I tried to explain to him that if any of us had looked at the light switch, we would have remembered to turn off the lights. He didn't get it. He was certain his sign would solve the problem. (It didn't.)
Flash forward twenty years.

The Jazzman and I try to be eco-friendly. Mahoning County Green Team, however, doesn't make eco-friendliness easy. I navigate to their website frequently to see what numbers are being accepted this month. You know those little triangles on the bottom of disposable containers? I'm driven by those.

I took a trunkload of packing materials to the recycling station the other day. Included in that trunkload were bits and chunks of white styrofoam that had been used to protect our new TV from bumping and jostling. Of all the recycling containers at the station, none of them were labeled "Styrofoam." I pulled my iPhone out of the car and opened the Green Team website. No Styrofoam. Absolutely no styrofoam. When I got home the styrofoam went back into the garage until we could figure out what to do with it.

The other day when we ate out, I brought home half of my dinner to be the next day's lunch. The restaurant gave me a black container with a triangle/6 on the bottom. After emptying it, I washed it out and—noting that Mahoning County Green Team now accepts recycling numbers 1-7—tossed it into our kitchen recycling bin.

The next morning I came down after the Jazzman left for work and noticed a sign on the wall.

"No Styrofoam" and an arrow down to the recycling bin.

Twenty years and three marriages/significant relationships later, again with the signs!

When he came home that day, I said, "But it has a '6'." He countered "But it's styrofoam." Bets were placed, and we waited for the end of the holiday weekend so I could call the Green Team office and settle the argument once and for all.

Alas, I lost! The Green Team lady said if the container is soft styrofoam rather than rigid plastic, the '6' on the bottom couldn't save it. It was the cursed styrofoam and could not be recycled.

Good thing I didn't make a very large wager, huh?

Child As Adult

My older son lives in the Dallas Metroplex. We see each other every couple of years, and keep up-to-date on each other's lives through the courtesy of Facebook, Twitter and texting on our phones. But because we're so limited in our personal interactions, I haven't really been able to watch him grow up. He'll be 40 this year (oops, I think I said that out loud!), so he's pretty well grown up. But the past couple of months I've seen him from a different perspective.

We're cat people, and he's had two cats during his adult life. Persephone and Orion became his masters about 13 years ago. Then Persephone passed away in August of 2009. So it's been just T.J. and Orion for the past three-and-a-half years.

So what does this have to do with my watching T.J. grow up? A couple of months ago, he realized something was very wrong with Orion's health. After a lot of worry and several doctors' visits, he learned Orion had a fungus that had eaten his skull away. I watched from afar and read his impassioned Facebook posts about this beautiful and affectionate cat.

What I have seen is a very mature man with an enormous heart do everything in his power to bring comfort to this beautiful animal that has been so special in his life. I'm so happy T.J. had this cat as a part of his life, and I'm so touched by his gentle carrying of Orion to his passing.

I have two wonderful sons. I'm a lucky mother.

Note: the picture above was taken last night by one of T.J.'s former roommates, who also loved Orion.