Christmas mornings meant a few special treats beyond the obvious stocking stuffers. We would be allowed to dig in to our own stockings which contained mandarin oranges, chocolates and other goodies. Small gifts from Santa (Lego) would keep us busy until the adults were up and ready for the formal gift distribution. This was done by Grampa or Dad under the strict supervision of Grama or Mom. " Not that one, do this one next". Each tag and card was read before the gift was ripped open and the wrapping paper tossed in to the fire for an extra pyrotechnic punch. Although at Grama's house we were encouraged to unwrap carefully and keep the bows and paper for reuse. We had some fancy cards that were reused year to year with extra verses added on paper. I remember some that were exchanged year after year between my Mom and Dad. After the mornings drama played out and before relatives from afar arrive, mom would take her signature breakfast pizza out and pop it in the oven. It was a welcome somewhat balanced meal after the mornings sugar rush. This is the original recipe as transcribed by my mom, possibly from Canadian Living or BH and G, or more likely off the back of the crescent roll package.
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Christmas Breakfast Pizza
Christmas mornings meant a few special treats beyond the obvious stocking stuffers. We would be allowed to dig in to our own stockings which contained mandarin oranges, chocolates and other goodies. Small gifts from Santa (Lego) would keep us busy until the adults were up and ready for the formal gift distribution. This was done by Grampa or Dad under the strict supervision of Grama or Mom. " Not that one, do this one next". Each tag and card was read before the gift was ripped open and the wrapping paper tossed in to the fire for an extra pyrotechnic punch. Although at Grama's house we were encouraged to unwrap carefully and keep the bows and paper for reuse. We had some fancy cards that were reused year to year with extra verses added on paper. I remember some that were exchanged year after year between my Mom and Dad. After the mornings drama played out and before relatives from afar arrive, mom would take her signature breakfast pizza out and pop it in the oven. It was a welcome somewhat balanced meal after the mornings sugar rush. This is the original recipe as transcribed by my mom, possibly from Canadian Living or BH and G, or more likely off the back of the crescent roll package.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Dark and Stormy
This seems like an unlikely name for a drink that I first experienced in the bright sunshine on a summer day. However I was sitting on a pier enjoying a lobster quesadilla ( fusion food, but it worked)
The basic idea is dark rum and ginger BEER with a splash of lime. However that's just the start.Ginger ale is not the same it's just soda, you really need to have that ginger kick.
As a bit of background, this drink owes its roots to the British Empire.
Legend has it that in a effort to cut down on rum consumption in Bermuda the Brits decided to allow Ginger Beer as an option for the weekly ration. However the rules were not specific and the boys just said yes to both.
And the Dark and Stormy was born.
The ideal rum is, not surprisingly, Goslings Black Seal from Bermuda, a strong dark rum with molasses to spare. Pour this onto three ice cubes in an old fashioned glass and top up with ginger beer. Make sure you get a spicy one, there are a number of them that range from artisan to discount. Some are even from Bermuda and many are good. Try to get cane sugar and real ginger flavor, if its cloudy and makes you "hack" it's so spicy it will work just fine. Some people like a slice of lime and that can add to the cloudy storminess of this potent drink.
May all your Dark and Stormy nights be of this kind.
Cheers, BW
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Champagne and Survival, the Mionetto Case
We were celebrating an anniversary or birthday of some significance and were having such a great time at Maialino in the Gramercy Park area that we decided to walk down to Union Square to have a look around. While we were there the idea seized us that we should buy a case of prosecco and catch a cab back to the car.
Trader Joe's has a wine store there and there are great deals so it seemed like the perfect plan.
The prosecco was indeed cheap and the girl said she would take it our to the curb so the plan was coming together nicely. Once we got to the curb we waited for a cab, and waited , and waited... We were in a cab dead zone. Sometimes if you are downstream or upstream from an area where lots of cabs are picking up fares you can be in a situation where all the cabs have fares and are not picking up passengers. The dreaded dead zone. Surveying the situation we decided to go over to 3rd avenue as there seemed to be lots of traffic headed north and a better chance of getting a cab. Once we hauled the case, they are really heavy, closer to the corner we could see that this was busier but not much better. There was a Korean house wife and her son with a microwave in a box, two hispanic girls, and a 6' ft 6" military looking guy in a suit and expensive running shoes. As we approached the two girls got a cap and sped off. We sat the case on the concrete traffic barrier and began our wait. The man in the suit seemed to have taken control of the situation and informed us, not that we asked, that the Koreans were next and then him. He had been there for 20 min. when we arrived. It was a classic NYC "Whatever" moment in the making. A couple, very much into themselves, up streamed the Koreans and those two guys sped off in a cab. The next cab took the Koreans and we were moving forward, not fast, as half an hour had passed by this time it was getting close to 6 pm. As we were waiting for the man in the suit to get his cab, it slowed and approached another couple stepped off of the curb and attempted to upstream him as well. He jumped in front of the cab and started a very animated conversation with the driver. As the two cab-jackers exited the situation, the cab with the suit and sneakers pulled over towards us. The self appointed cab wrangler asked us how far up 3rd we were going and told us to jump in. We did and explained that we were just going to 21st street but would love to split the cost of the cab. He said he was going to 113th and third as we sped away. We didn't have much time to discuss the reason for the cab dead zone or anything else as we arrived at 21st quickly. I had a five ready and thanked the guy and offered the five for what was a $2.50 fare on the meter at that time, he said " No don't worry about it and have a great party!" We had a lively conversation about the whole strange affair as we got back to our car, which was parked on the street for free, loaded up and headed home.
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