Liver Spots

My new dermatologist looked at my stomach and said, "those are age marks or liver spots, and they're just going to get worse."  I kind of liked the way that the red dots formed the Big and Little Dipper. I nodded.

These days, I happily tell students that I'm older than their parents. I joke that the population is getting older -- except me, with a wink.

I'm beginning to embrace "sixty."  Sixty doesn't happen until October, and not until toward the end of the month, if anyone's counting. I might be willing to face it early (though doing anything early is not really like me). Do it now, then it's one less thing to worry about, my boyfriend would say (I might have mentioned that he's a contractor and likes the idea of "punch lists").

Maybe I'm relaxing into the idea, with my red liver dots and gray hairs. But I'm not letting go of getting a tan and staying in shape (damn it). I have to be able to stay up with all my other sixty year old friends who don't look our age at all.

There's a chance that I could be entering my prime; I always did things a little later. Imagine that -- staying in my lane more, but really tearing it up. Okay, that's too much to live up to. I do like the "lane" idea, though. That would be good for me. And doing more of what I'm good at doing.

Mid-January Sorting

I've been on this binge lately of trying not to waste food. I'm sure that it's an influence from my boyfriend, who has to be convinced that any food, ever goes bad. (He was sure that the peppers in salsa acted as a preservative).

I think I'm gaining weight, though. Pesto is quite fattening. I put it on some thin spaghetti, then had too much spaghetti left over, then bought another small jar of pesto .... I'm doomed.

I've also been going through a new stage in my life of a little less teaching and a little more writing. The change seems to have made my well-masked disorganization worse. It's not really that well-masked, it's just all on the second floor, with the exception of the messy bookcase of cookbooks, etc.

I have piles of things, but the problem is, they don't even move. They pretty much stay where they are and get bigger. I do have one clothes pile that goes from the made !! (I want some credit here) bed to the floor. I'm still debating on whether to keep that GAP shirt.

It's as if the writing has given me an excuse to not do the other-brained things (I get mixed up whether organization / logic is right or left-brained). I'm not even spending that much more time on writing!

So if you think your house is a mess, don't feel bad. Hopefully mine will all get sorted -- I've always liked that British term. I guess that I'm the kind of person who can function some in chaos.

Must go. My day job pile is calling me.

Girl Power

I'm not sure if I told you, but I took a trip to the Maldives at the end of August. It was amazing!  We stayed at a resort called The Lux -- more on that later.

Like everyone else on the twelve-hour flight from Boston to Dubai, I was movie-binging. Once we landed I realized that I had seen three girl-power movies.

First was the 2018 version of Tomb Raider with Alicia Vikander. Although greatly entertaining, I don't think that anything stood our for me, except that now I'd seen one of the Tomb Raider series (I am movie deprived and not proud of it), and it was part one of my girl-power trifecta.

The second movie, Adrift, was riveting. If you haven't seen it, Shailene Woodley (of Big Little Lies) stars in the true story of Tami Oldham and her fiancé who sail partway from Tahiti to San Diego and encounter a horrific storm (Hurricane Raymond, 1983). Tami survives and, for a short period, hallucinates retrieving her mate from the water and taking care of him on the damaged boat. When she accepts that she has to abandon the scenario in order to try and survive, she says that she'll love him always, but, "I'm going to have to let you go." With that she's able to regain strength (the spear fishing would have done me in) and focus on her own survival.

Sam Claflin and Shailene Woodley
Adrift 

I've held on to situations, still trying to compensate for or fix them. I've probably let that mindset be a drain on my potential, with guilt mixing in there too. Who needs that?

My therapist explained: With guilt often comes resentment. Uh boy.

Then I heard my boyfriend's mom mention someone who "couldn't let go" of a situation. I certainly don't want to be like that.

So much good can come from letting go. However, Now I'm a little afraid of sailing.

Kevin Costner and Jessica Chastain
Molly's Game

I think that I watched Molly's Game two and half times during the flight from Dubai to Boston. Molly faced disasters in her life: complete wipe-outs in pre-Olympic free form ski events, and nearly being put in jail for running her signature, high-stakes poker game).

I loved her determination, as she said after her first game was co-opted by a former boss: "The best remedy for losing is winning."

The amazing part, for me at least, came at the end when her father (a psychology professor) revealed an event from Molly's childhood that she didn't remember. Molly had seen her father cheating. Because of that single event (and other family dynamics that it triggered), he said that Molly was motivated to derail powerful men.

It's  fascinating to think about experiences when we were young, some we may not even remember, that have become undercurrents in our lives.

Despite the difficult relationship with her dad (not to mention his cheating), it seems that Molly at least got some discipline and resilience from him.

Letting go of situations might save your life. Be a power house in your own life (what Molly did, though she failed) and try to be aware of what's driving you.

Girl power.

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Chicken Tetrazzini comes to life

So here is the final product. Apologies for the late report; I made this about five weeks ago. On future projects I'll try to make the blogging closer to the cooking.

It was definitely a two-tiered event. Day #1 was buying and cooking the chicken; Day #2 was making and cooking the tetrazzini.  I emphasize "cooking" on both days because that had to be strategically worked around my day job (teaching). Teaching one or even two classes, as it turns out, creates an effective "rest period" for something on the stove or in the oven. Luckily, I live very close to my job so that I can scurry back and forth.

I received lots of kudos from a close friend and my boyfriend. They're my dependable taste-testers. I also got some chicken stock out of the project, which I admire in the freezer. Okay, so I can cook and blog!

Update #2

Okay, so I lied about the chicken being from Georgia.  I don't know that for sure.  I've seen "Georgia chicken" on a sign at Fresh Market before, so I made the leap.  I am sure about the antibiotic free though (damnit).

The chicken was completely done when I came home from class. I fished it out of the pot and now it's  "resting" -- long day! -- in the refrigerator.  I tried to salvage every bit of chicken broth that I could, strainer and all. Authors Julee Rosso and Sheila Lukins call it the "best kind of frozen assets."

My hands smell like chicken fat. Time for bed.

Quick update

In the spirit of Julie's blog (meaning Julie of Julie and Julia, if you didn't read my last entry), here's a quick update.

The Georgia-raised antibiotic-free chicken breasts and one leg (all bone-in with skin, but some skin cut off, of course) is on low boil with any healthy stuff I could find from the fridge and onions and carrots, all bought from Fresh Market.  This may be more information that you need, but that's my big update. My house smells amazing. Must remember to turn off the stove to let it sit when I leave to teach class this afternoon (ah, details in the life of a chef).

The other exciting thing is (aside from the pending Chicken Tetrazzini) that I'll have chicken broth left over to make tomato soup for cute boyfriend -- another reason to cook and blog!

Julie and Julia

It seems natural to write about food in a blog. Who hasn't been inspired to cook and blog (and cook and blog) after seeing Julie and Julia? Amy Adams played Julie Powell, a city worker who takes calls from Lower Manhattan in the aftermath of 9/11. Feeling deflated and drained, she decides to follow her passion and write a daily blog for one year as she tries each recipe in Julia Child's first cook book (Mastering the Art of French Cooking).

The amazing thing to me was not so much that she cooked everyday -- though that's way beyond me -- but that she wrote everyday. Maybe her daily blog was just a few sentences on why the sauce took so long or her husband's opinion on the final product. Still, she blogged (meaning she posted to her blog) everyday. I'm trying to write everyday right now, somewhat unsuccessfully.

In addition, I'm a plodder, so the idea of doing anything everyday appeals to me. In fact a daily plod is the only way that I can imagine tackling the challenging areas in my life, like writing. It's one of those, I love it / I hate it activities; there's the possibility of being in love with the outcome, and of  great frustration. As Julie said, "it's sort of like being in AA; you have to do it one day at  time."

I could also relate to Julie because she's frustrated by her lack of success along any one path. In one scene she's lying on the bed talking to her mother who marvels at the recipe-a-day plan. "You've never stuck to anything." My mother would never say that, but I've gotten that feeling from others. Not that it's terrible, but I've fretted about a lack of goals, or at least accomplishments that I can point to. What are my goals? (See previous posts for reference to this problem.)

So here goes. I want to cook and blog too.  The next time you hear from me I will have made the following recipe:

https://www.thechunkychef.com/one-pot-chicken-tetrazzini/


Considering that I teach four classes and consider carry-out as my cooking activity, this is a big feat. It involves cooking some part of a chicken, or a whole chicken, which may require a separate blog entry.

Bon Appétit!