Big Waves, Big Suds and Fun Food

Wacky Weekend
I woke up to find a Tsunami warning in my e-mail. The waves were due to hit beginning at 11:45 am. On the one hand, the warning said that it was unlikely that there would be evacuations. On the other had, the waves could be moving at up to 400 miles per hour and that we should be prepared to leave at a moment's notice. The whole morning was peculiar, weather -wise. It was sunny and pouring rain and then in was very dark and cold and windy. I was really puzzled that none of my local Dopplerganger weather folk were even on the air. There wasn't even a news ticker on the bottom of the major local stations with updates on the tsunami. I had to go to the Weather Channel for those. Thus, Jon and I were dressed and prepared to go to the police station down the street. I was listening for the alarm to sound. When I preferred lazing on the sofa. That was irritating. I did get some amusement calling friend and neighbor Garett who is my tsunami buddy. He never hears anything like this, so I call him to give him a heads up. His obliviousness is really strange as he lives mere blocks from the ocean and has a canal in front of his house. I usually get playfully harassed for my trouble and hang up laughing. Such was the case this morning. Still, I found the entire affair to be strange and irksome.

Diagnosis and Prognosis
I finally got to see an Oncologist last week. I am very happy to tell everyone that I am at stage one of my particular cancer. The head of the clinic that I am visiting is an expert in this cancer and has successfully treated it more than once. Best of all, I will not be going through weeks of chemo. The only downside is having to have another surgical procedure. After that, I will be closely monitored for years to come, but that's not bad at all. I'm in great shape for the surgery, but I have to get my iron levels up in advance of blood tests next week. More dark greens and a little liver pate should do the trick. The patients my doc has treated with this cancer are surviving and thriving ten years after their procedures. Thus, things look very good. Thank you to all who sent prayers and/or good thoughts. Keep them coming! I also accept rain dances and fan dances (those are a lot of fun).

In My Hood
Mar Vista is the red headed step child of neighborhoods in Los Angeles' privileged and entitled westside. It isn't as glamorous as Santa Monica which is home to movie stars, famous chefs and the Governator himself. It isn't as funky and eclectic as Venice whose freaky beach is an international tourist destination. Most, like me, thought of it as the space you pass through on the way to Culver City which is enjoying quite a renaissance of late. The only neighborhood more obscure to Angelinos is mine. Del Rey was named for the salt marshes near Ballona Creek. When I tell people where I live, most assume I have left off the word Marina. Alas, this is not the case. Marina del Rey is within walking distance to our humble home, but Jon and I don't have a yacht nor enough digits in our income to live there. We are Marina adjacent. But I digress. To my mind, both Del Rey and Mar Vista were places I passed through on the way elsewhere. This has been true even during the past three years of living here. However, I have been restricted in my movements of late. That has been fortunate in many ways. One of them has been having the opportunity to find some real gems hiding in plain sight mere minutes from my front door. This is the first review of such gems.

Soaptopia
I am a tactile being. My love of food encompasses how it looks, how it feels in the mouth and how it smells as well as how it tastes. This trait makes me an absolute sucker for soaps and lotions and candles and perfumes. It was a very delicate fragrance of flowers and fruit and vanilla that drew me into a small shop called Soaptopia on Venice Boulevard near Centinela Avenue. Inside, I found a shop full of all things decadent and bath related and a kitchen where these products were created. The pots were enormous.

There were soaps like Aloe be Thy Name or The Grapefruit Gatsby. I was given four generous sample of soap with my purchases. I've only used Rozilla vs Dry Skinea, but I found that the others (She Uses Tangerine, Rose Patchouli and Mint Condition) all smell wonderful. The Rozila produced a thick, luxurious lather that rinsed off cleanly. I have very dry skin, so I'm drawn to body oils and thick lotions and creams. Soaptopia makes and sells a product called an Oil Slather that is used after rinsing from a bath or shower but before toweling off. It's an amazing oil, because it is an oil but doesn't feel greasy on the skin once it's toweled off. I tried Rosemary's Other Baby, but I sniffed almost all of the others. I want them all. Finally, I tried something called a 50/50 body balm which is described as 50 percent cream and 50 percent body butter. I tried Rozilla which was thick and creamy, but also not greasy. It left my skin very soft with the lightest of scents.

The playful product names match the friendly service. Browsing and questions are encouraged. They even offer classes on fragrance making. There are modestly priced small sizes of most of the products, so you can find the one that suits you best. I plan to do a great deal of experimenting.

There are other gems in Mar Vista that I plan to explore very soon. There is a Farmer's Market and a couple of restaurants and specialty grocers that have caught my eye. Stay tuned.

What's Cookin'
Processing the groceries from the past week was my goal by Saturday. I've largely succeeded. I turned the two roast chickens that I bought on deep discount a week ago into the final left over: a chicken pot pie with a fresh made crust. I made four pies and froze them for after I get out of the hospital and am unable to do much cooking. I turned the pulled pork into a burrito filling (made four of those. I'll freeze one) and a meat smothered with gravy seasoned with Herb de Provence that can be paired with rice or potatoes. I plan to freeze some of that as well. To cover my Lenten seafood selections, I made and am freezing crab cakes and zucchini pancakes. The only soup I managed to finish this week is a cream of asparagus. I had wanted to do the Mediterranean fish soup, but my shopping was thwarted by a number of things. I want to try again this week.

I have some cooking notes that I've posted on Facebook this week. For those who've read them, see you next week. For the rest, enjoy!

What's Cooking in the Wee Small Hours (Feb 23, 2010)

I have to get up in four hours, but I'm wide awake. I'm having the long awaited Oncologist appointment which is probably why I'm wide awake. The scent of roasting pork isn't helping matters either. There was a massive pork shoulder on sale at the market today. It was under ten bucks for something that looked like Fred Flintstone's dinner. I grabbed it, oiled it up, rubbed it with a mix of Herb de Provence, garlic powder, onion powder, salt and pepper then threw it in the oven on low for about eight hours. It should be fork tender by the time I leave. I really love pulled pork, but decided I wanted it without the barbecue rub. The Herb de Provence rub was what I came up with in its stead. The result is quite lovely. Alas, I will have to leave the succulent pile of pork having had just the the tiniest taste. It does give me something to look forward to when I come home. I will have to make a stop at some point during the day for a suitable bread or bun to hold those tender morsels. Or I may just shovel it in my mouth by the fistful. In the privacy of my kitchen, who's to know?

Friday Night Snacks (February 26, 2010)

There are a lot of things I still miss from Philly (where are my pretzels, brother dear). Among the things I didn't expect to find is a really good bagel. My standards are high as I worked in New York City for a year. Luckily, there is a company out here called Noah's Bagels that has some real New Yorkers making things. Luckier still, Noah's provides bagels for our local Costco (we get a dozen fresh baked bagels for $.99). I like the everything bagel (onion, poppy seeds, sesame seeds). Jon likes cinnamon raisin. Anyway, my favorite bagel snack is something I picked up from one of the crew guys on "Demon Under Glass.' He liked his bagel toasted with a nice layer of cream cheese with a slice of tomato on top. My variant is that I chop the tomato then gently press it in the cream cheese so that it stays put. I sprinkle a little bit of salt and pepper on the tomato. I love the arm crunch od the bagel with the softness of of the cream cheese and the warmth of the bagel against the cool of the cream cheese. It's just a great combination, And, as a snack, it's not that unhealthy (I only have a half a bagel-tomato at a clip). As for the other things I miss from Philly? I do fairly well making steak sandwiches (steakums on a supermarket French baguett is really good. I make mine with garlic infused olive oil on the roll instead of mayo). And I've just found a recipe for soft pretzels that's really easy that Jon and I will probably try next week. And I even found a recipe for scrapple that is probably a lot healthier than the real thing (it uses pork shoulder and fresh hocks cooked with corn meal rather than snouts and offal). It may not tast as yummy though. Still, I'd like to give it a try. More cooking later. I hope to have a report from the nearby farmer's market as well.

Woes and Joes and Julia and Cassadines

Wednesday's Child
Oh, woe was me this past Wednesday. The day began beautifully. The weather was really great – it was sunny and not too warm. I got out of the house and stretched my legs by taking a trip to the library to get a card. I hadn't had one in years, because I would just order everything from Amazon. But we don't have the space for tons of books in the apartment, and giving them away is a hassle with our schedules. I got a card then had lunch at Taco Bell (I know, bad girl eating food like that in your condition). But I hadn't had food from there in a very long time, and I'm still under doctor's orders to gain weight. After lunch, I explored a part of our neighborhood I seldom see. There, I found a shop called the Curious Palette. It's essentially a deli with a small gourmet grocery area that boasted French-style jam made on the premises. They also had Tapenade. I'm planning on sampling their wares and writing about it for my foodie sites. This was a great find. I also discovered that there is a weekly farmer's market, Mar Vista Farmer's Market, that I knew nothing about. This was detailed in a quarterly neighborhood newsletter I'd never seen before. The writers even had intriguing recipes in the newsletter that used products sold at the farmer's market. I plan on sampling the wares there as well. Finally, I stopped by Mitsuwa Marketplace for some pantry items. I managed to do all of this and catch a bus back without a long wait. I was very happy.

The woe began with a call from my surgeon. I had called her the day before to report some symptoms she'd told me to look out for. Her call scared me enough to immediately contact my Oncology Docs to see if my appointment for chemo had been set up. It hadn't. I was caught in a bureaucratic nightmare at a monolithic health care facility overloaded with requests for free treatment. A note on why I need free treatment. I am one of those Americans sans health insurance, because the plan offered by my employer was really expensive (it nearly rivaled the cost of our rent) but didn't cover very much. It was, in fact, fortunate that I didn't have any insurance when I was diagnosed. That status made me eligible for aid that would cover everything instead of the catastrophic debt we would incur trying to cover bills our insurance wouldn't cover. The trade off for this aid is steering through a massive county and state bureaucracy. One of the two things that made getting an appointment 4 weeks instead of 8 to 10 was the rarity of my cancer (it is very rare though it has a high survival rate). This makes me very attractive to a teaching hospital. The second was I found some super nice and empathetic office workers at that hospital. They really went above and beyond for me. I have so many thank you cookies to make.

The woe in waiting even 4 weeks is that the surgery didn't get every bit of the tumor out. There are tiny ones that aren't visible to the naked eye growing again. These cause the symptoms I'd been told to look out for. Thus, I found myself in General Hospital in a 17 hour long queue waiting for treatment. I'm serious, that building is the building used in ABC's long running soap opera, General Hospital. I didn't see Luke or Laura or find any Cassadines or their weather machine. All we had was a cavernous waiting room with naught to entertain us but the craziest LA denizens and dreadful programs on the CW Television Network. Sorry fans of Supernatural and the Vampire Diaries. This stuff was truly abysmal. And the leading men all looked the same. Jon thinks they were all the same tall, dark haired, dead-eyed guy cloned over and over. I'm not sure about that. All I know for sure is those scripts were just dreadful, and for some reason Chad Everett had bangs.

My woes ended Friday afternoon when I was released from the ER. I was determined not to be stuck in the hospital again just after Tiger Woods came back into the endless news cycles. Though I found that beyond the endless wait, County-USC boasted state of the art facilities and a knowledgeable, caring staff that were pleasant to interact with, I wasn't into a prolonged visit. I had spent all of December trying to avoid that coverage in the hospital. But since I wasn't in any immediate danger, and I was seeing the oncologist early this week anyway, they let me leave. The upside of the ordeal was finding out that I wasn't in any immediate danger, and I got some tests done that gets me closer to starting chemo. That was worth the woes.

What's Cookin'
This week's soup was split pea with ham. It was a first time recipe for me and born of a sale on whole hams at my favorite market last week. Aside from lots of lovely meat, there was a dandy bone from which to make tasty stock. I made the stock on Mardi Gras and the soup on Ash Wednesday. That was a naughty no-no as I had to taste something meat based on a day I was to have no meat. I only had a teaspoon full, I promise. My bigger sin involving the soup was on Friday. I tend to do the meatless Friday thing during Lent, but I was coming home after the never ending ER experience. The only thing that would fix that experience was really good meat and lots of it. I plan to repent later. The other recipe of the week was Sole Meunière a la Julia Child. There was Dover sole on sale at the market last week, so the choice of fish for Ash Wednesday was easy. I didn't take photos because the dish itself was not pretty in its platting. The sole fillets were thin and broke on me, but the meal was very tasty. The delicacy of the fish married well with the rich brown butter sauce and lemon. Even Jon enjoyed it. I will certainly make it again, and then there will be pictures. This week, my goal is Mediterranean Fish soup. I failed at it in spectacular fashion last year, but I have a far simpler recipe this time and more experience with seafood stock. I'll have photos of that as well (hopefully).

Moving and Shaking
I am cleared for exercise now. I'm starting with walking at least a half an hour as briskly as I can manage. For toning my thin but wiggly arms and to shore up the parts that have fallen down with the sudden weight loss, I have chosen the Bollywood Dance Workout with Hemalayaa. The series runs on one of my many cable channels sometime after the informercials. I've watched several in a supine position and now feel that I may have to actually do something the next time they air. I'd really love to have the outfit to go with the routines, but I shall muddle through nonetheless. There will be no photos of that, but here is a video of Hemalayaa in action.

A Tale of Two Women
Julie & Julia was an interesting experience for me in that I was actually interested in the Julie Powell part of the film at all, and that I found the women had a lot more in common than cooking. There were so many wonderful things in the film for me that I find it hard to pick a place to begin. Why did I find the terrifying? Was it the lobster trying to escape its fate? No, lobsters don't move fast enough to terrify me. My father and I have been chased around a kitchen by Maryland blue crabs. Now, that was exciting and kind of funny, actually. The cat was chasing the crab which was chasing us. It was all very silly, but it ended deliciously. Serendipity made Julie and Julia terrifying for me. SPOILER ALERT for the books and the film.


Julia Child spent many years working on Mastering the Art of French Cooking endlessly testing and improving the recipes and the verbiage. Yet the book only saw the light of day because of a few random acts like writing a fan letter about knives resulting in a connection with an American editor who was obsessed with Paris after a series of unlikely events. Any wrong move during those years could have easily resulted in Julia's book never seeing the light of day. Likewise, Julie Powell had spent many years studying and toiling to become a published writer. Yet it was making an exercise in personal growth public that gave her the path to realizing her creative aspirations. A random decision made on a whim and boom, there's your career. Write a fan letter on a whim and that leads to becoming a legend. Planning be damned. That is terrifying to me.

The only thing that either woman had any control over was their on perseverance. Had they not done the work diligently, there would have been nothing to show when an opportunity presented itself. Though terrifying, Julie and Julia was a reminder that we always have to be ready to explore any avenue toward our goals. Reading My Life in France reminded me of that last month. Thus, I got my act together and submitted that memoir into competition. Seeing Julie and Julia reminded Jon and I not to pass up any opportunity – no matter how remote. So when Ralph calls and says that there is an A-List actor that we can get a script to directly, I pushed past my initial reaction of 'there is nothing we have that he has ever played before' and sent something that is an interesting part even though it's a long shot. Who knows? We may catch him on a day that he wants to go into a different direction. Or he may know another actor who has always wanted to play this sort of part. Or he may like our writing enough to hire us to create something else. It costs us nothing to respond, and it's a potential connection we certainly can't ignore. It's hard to keep up the energy necessary to act on opportunities. Each one needs to be embraced and sent out with enthusiasm and confidence. After all, if you don't feel that way about the material, who will?


But beyond the terrifying serendipity, Julie and Julia was about the two women, their aspirations and their relationships with their husbands. Now, I'm a big believer in girl power, and I'd like to think that these women would have found a way to press on with their writing on their own. However, I know how hard it is to keep motivated in the face of setbacks and everyday adversities. Even with having a supportive husband who is a creative partner, I find myself reaching out to friends and occasionally relatives and in really dire situations, perfect strangers, for validation. I am very fortunate to have a circle of friends that I can lean on for encouragement. Julie Powell and Julia Child found success in large part because they had wonderfully supportive husbands and great firends. Watching these relationships – particularly the Childs' – made the movie a delightful. Meryl Streep and Stanley Tucci were marvelous protraying a couple that was lusty and fun. As a film fan, I thought Julie and Julia is well worth watching. As a writer, I found the film to be an inspiration.


Go Joe!
This will sound strange, but Julie and Julia had something in common with GI: Joe The Rise of Cobra (TROC), the other film Jon and I watched last weekend. Both are film adaptations of well established published materials. In the case of GI:Joe, there was also a popular cartoon series to live up to or get around, depending on your opinion of said series. I thought the series was a lot of dopey fun. That's somewhat inexplicable for a fan of Anime which was working at a far more cophisticated level of story tellling (even in shows that were based on toy lines). Thus, I was not disappointed by this film. It was certainly dopey, but it was a whole lot of fun. The script managed to work in phrases like 'A real American Hero' and 'Go JOE!' without making it look like they were squeezed in with a crow bar. The 'Go JOE' line went to Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje whom I adore as Simon Adebisi from OZ. At any rate, the only element missing from the film that was a regular part of the series were the moral lessons tacked on at the end of each episode. These PSAs were common in cartoons from the 1980s to make up for the fact that many of these shows were sponsored by and made for toy companies. There are many parodies of these PSAs on Youtube.com. I chose this parody because it captured the spirit of the others without being obscene. Hasbro Toys was listed as one of the production companies behind GI: Joe TROC. I think a feature version of one of those PSAs would have been awesome.


That nit pick aside, GI: Joe TROC offered some surprises along with the exploding mayhem it so generously served up every few scenes. As I mentioned in the last blog, this film managed to degayify (I still say it's a word) this film. Oh, there were still lots of well-built guys hanging out together and working out together. But there was a lot less shirtlessness and a lot more females hanging out as well. I think the reason this film seemed less homoerotic is that the female characters were credible hanging out with the guys. I think this speaks well for female action characters in general. Film and TV have come a long way from female characters of yore. They weren't dreamy-eyed girls with crushes on the leading slab of man. They are real partners who can really kick ass. They can watch the lead's back as well as any dude. And they can usually rescue themselves. As fellow soldiers, the action chick gets to hear all of the secrets and builds that bond that brothers at arms have for millennia. GI: Joe had two action chicks – one was a hero (Scarlett) the other was a villain (The Baroness ). Both were credible partners to their counterparts while being hot females. Their presence really cut down on the manly men who like hanging out with manly men thing the cartoon had. GI: JOE TROC had a great sense of humor that was not dependent on Marlon Wayans' Ripcord. I found myself laughing out loud at appropriate points in the movie. Overall, I found the film to be a fun, popcorn eating treat.
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Tigers and Souffles and Plots, Oh My!

Gong hei fat choi!

Happy Year of the Dragon and Happy Valentine's Day! And as if this week can't begin any more strangely, Tuesday is Mardi Gras. For now, I'm only dealing with these two. Our romantic dinner features homemade potstickers and chicken friend rice with a chocolate souffle and some bubbly for dessert. The souffle is an amazing recipe from America's Test Kitchen that can be made ahead and frozen. I've shown a photo of it from when I made it during the summer. It's fairly easy to put together as well. I made the dumplings during the Super Bowl and froze them. And fried rice is easy to put together. Thus, it will be a no fuss but lovely and, hopefully, romantic dinner. That will bring us luck during the new year. Who knows? It's worth a shot. I had some ambitious notions of cooking duck breast or Peking Duck (duck being both a staple of romantic meals and important Chinese feasts). But I've cooked it exactly once, and that was an ordeal and a half. Since duck is neither bread or noodles, Jon could care less if it appears on his plate. Thus,I thought it prudent to wait until I have more energy. There is less likelihood of disaster that way.

The Super Bowl was fun. I didn't have a preference for a winner, so I think my biggest reaction during the whole time was 'Abe Vigoda is alive?' Though the game and the ads were really good, I found myself preoccupied with cooking prep for the big pot of chili (no beans) and the slab of sweet cornbread and the potstickers. My friends and colleagues are benefiting greatly from my food therapy. Now, they're sending supplies my way with requests. I'm needing a bigger fridge or an supplemental fridge. That's especially true when I'm doing the juicing thing. To have enough produce to make juice means there is just bushels of stuff to go through. But I digress. I want to thank all of those sending me their recipes and suggestions for warm and comforting meals last week. I'm going to try some of them very soon.

Writing Roadblocks
I wanted to get more writing done, but the week was rough where concentration was concerned. My characters were speaking, but I couldn't focus enough to filter it through to my keyboard. My script outline was stymied by the realization that I had to do a great deal more research on one of the main characters. I thought I had the correct thread, but when I pulled it, I was lead to a lot farther back in his life than I first thought was relevant. That was a fascinating if terribly inconvenient development. That biography is nearly three inches thick and quite heavy. I really didn't want to tote that to and from my appointments. Ah, well. The upside is that the research is riveting. I find myself losing a lot of time reading the biography and, of course, the short fiction mentioned therein. (I can't do that when I'm on the road as I am without a laptop. It would be too unwieldy in a waiting room. Jon is predicting that this script will likely producer – egads – an academic paper or perhaps a course.

And, despite all the work I have on my plate, I've allowed myself to get distracted by a bit of experimental script writing. Jon and I both have scripts knocking about that we know are going to be difficult if not impossible to produce, but it's an itch that we need to scratch. It's like having to solve a puzzle. In my experiment, I believe I have solved the problem that this sort of material presents for film makers save for no one would fund it and casting would be a bear. Thus, it's not something that I want distracting me right now. Although past experience has taught me that I find my focus on one work while distracted by another one. I suppose, I can just let this go where it will for the time being. It is a very fun script for me to write. I'm taking what could have been a 1950s era romance between the powerful scion of an industrial family and a lady business executive and turning it on its ear – Big Time while still having an Eve Arden character.

I must digress here to register a strong protest about an upcoming remake of Mildred Pierce. I adore Kate Winslet, but that is a film that is very much of it's era. I don't think any film maker today has the sensibilities to re-make it and not get it wrong. Why do I have an itch to upend 50s romances while objecting to a re-make of an iconic film? Well, first, I'm not re-making anything specific. I'm using a fun and familiar template to push drama in a very different direction. It's part of my need to rehabilitate erotica in films. Too much of it is bad. Most of it manages to make sex boring (I give you Eyes Wide Shut). And film erotica is almost never romantic. And when the characters in such films do fall in love with each other, it's almost always a toxic sort of relationship. And these films never have a sense of humor. This is a tough nut to crack in a script that isn't 400 pages long. And even if I manage to write something that moves crisply and has highly engaging characters (and I'm onto something with the 50s romance template), there is still the issue of writing it in such a way that it could find a big enough audience to attract funding. It's quite the puzzle.

CSI: Miami Fun

One of the commercials that really amused me during the Super Bowl was for last week's CSI: Miami. It featured a death that appeared to have happened in outer space. At the end of the ad, there was an image of Horatio Caine's (David Caruso) glasses floating owner-less in space. The episode itself was quite amusing in spots. It even featured physical comedy by two of the CSIs in a vomit comet. Youcan see footage of the plane in action HERE. Though the plot pushed credulity to the very limit, the episode was highly amusing. I'm really enjoying this season, and I'm very impressed with Caruso's sense of humor about his alter ego and his show. He's been promoting a Horatio Caine impersonation contest (the contestants are at the bottom of the page), and because of him, I was introduced to the extremely amusing Black CSI: Miami. These clever shorts feature such over the top dialogue as 'Black Eric, what do we have?' 'Well, Black Horatio, I'm processing this pitcher of Kool-Ade.' And the Horatio is really spot on. Good show, fellows!

One More Doppler Jab

I know I promised no more making fun of weather forecasters, and I'm not (for those who may have missed the reason for this promise, please check out the nuttiest of all the Dopplergangers Snowpocalypse Forecast). I do, however, have to share Stephen colbert's version of the Doppler craze with his Dopplerest 9000 coverage of Snowmaggeddon 2010. See We're Off to See the Blizzard. Enjoy!

Film vs Book

Well, not just books but also comic books and/or cartoons. I finally saw GI: Joe The Rise of Cobra and Julie and Julia. So, next week I'll talk about the difficulties of going from one media to another and where both films were successful or not so much. I'm also still puzzling on how the film version of GI: Joe managed to completely de-gayify (that's a word or it is now) the cartoon series. That was quite a feat. And I know you all think I see the homoerotic everywhere (or choose to), but, in this case, I'm not the only one who did where GI: Joe was concerned. On the left you have a Joe character on the right, the Venture Brother's version. I love the whole squad on Venture Brothers, they shamelessly resemble the Village People. But I'm digressing, and this is for the next blog.

Stay tuned!

Delay of Game

I've had a hard time of things last week. It's nothing serious, all things considered, but I am left with less energy than in previous weeks. As those of you who have found me on line in the middle of the night can attest, sleep is proving to be elusive. Thus, the blog may not pop up for a few more days. Or I may wait until next week. Meanwhile, tell me what you're cooking for those cold snowy or rainy nights? What did you have for the Super Bowl? As for me, stay tuned.

Why James Cameron is My Hero

It's not just the magic he puts on screen. Nor is it that I found him to be among the best customers I've ever helped while toiling at Boders Books and Music. And he was a stellar customer on a very busy Saturday night. In a field of celebrity customers at the now defunct Santa Monica store who proved to be too irritating to live at times, he was a polite, gentlemanly standout. But that is not why I deem him worthy of heroic status.

A recent Businessweek magazine illustrates my reasons quite succinctly. While marveling at the success of Avatar, it noted that the film boasted no major stars as leads, it was not a sequel, it wasn't based on a bestselling novel or the Bible. And what does that title mean, anyway? Yes, the success of the film is astonishing. What flummoxes me more is How in the hairy heck did Cameron pull off getting it funded???!!!

Yes, yes, popular wisdom posits that the astounding box office from Titanic. And I am certain that the suits who green lit the project are now smugly pointing to the obvious wisdom of their decision and further obscuring the reality of the process. But funding this juggernaut was not such a sure thing a few years ago. And while I personally found Avatar to be the embodiment of why I go to a theater to see a film, I fully understand why.

Funding a film is a daunting, frustrating, sometimes soul crushing process run with mercurial individuals and entities and ruled by serendipity. No one who wasn't involved entirely believes how we got our first film funded. Looking back, I have trouble believing it myself. I know we could never replicate the circumstances. Since then, my partners and I have had dozens of meetings with funding sources from all walks of life. My personal favorite for bizarre was the chap with the enormous pentagram on his chest and the giant painting of Satan looming behind him. I still think that his terms were the most honest and above board. And yes, I have had meetings with studio suits. Satan dude didn't want to direct, nor did he have a significant other who always wanted to get into acting. I think that deal fell apart on points or a goat sacrifice. I can't recall now.

But I digress. A financially successful film is not a guarantee that funding the next film will be easy. And despite all the glad-handing and back slapping going on with the suits behind Avatar right now, getting that film funded was not an easy road for Cameron. Businessweek quotes him admitting to using $12 million of his own money in developing the film. I have a close friend who worked in a Special FX cubical farm at the Playa Vista location a few years back. He witnessed a number of suits from various studios and other sources touring the facility trying to grasp what Cameron was creating. Their checkbooks weren't automatically open despite Titanic's success. It may seem unimaginable that a man with that kind of lucrative film run would have to give tours and show off his wares in the hopes of attracting a deep-pocketed backer, but there are a number of factors at work against any film maker, even James Cameron. There's the 'but what have you done, lately?' issue. In LA, if you are out of sight, you are truly out of mind. Years spent doing things like undersea documentaries puts a filmmaker completely out of mind.

And then, there is the concept. It's original. Even the most casual movie goer will note that Hollywood's output has been a little thin where original concepts are concerned. If it's not a sequel, it's a re-make. On the film horizon, we have Clash of the Titans (with Avatar's heroic Sam Worthington) and the A-Team. In the case of Spiderman, we have a case of a sequel that turned into a remake. Of late, studios aren't know for spending huge bucks to step out on a limb creatively. And this is what makes James Cameron my hero. I can just see him explaining to the sort of suits more inclined to fund something with the word Sqeakuel in the title that for 3/4ths of a very long film, his leads (that most people had never heard of) will be animated ten foot tall blue people with tails and loincloths. But wait, it gets better. The stalwart marines are not the good guys. The film will be made to be best viewed with a technology that may or may not be in enough theaters to begin to make the money back. And the film will need more money than has ever been spent before in history. Though if inflation is factored in (and everyone insists on doing that with Avatar) the prize for spending still belongs to Elizabeth Taylor's Cleopatra. And though I love that big, cheesy film, I'm sure that no film wants to be considered in the same sentence with it. And the core youth audience Avatar is aimed at (the only people who understand what the title means) were little children when Titanic was released. I bet crickets could be heard at the end of that pitch. How many of these meetings ended with the suits beating a hasty retreat for the parking lot?

I suppose it doesn't matter how many meetings ended badly. Somehow, Cameron got through where it mattered. But what did he say, and how did he say it? It must be some super hero power that can make studios take a big risk on a wholly original concept. He gives me hope to keep pushing. For that, James Cameron is my hero.

Craig, Soup, Writing and Geekiness

Conversations with Craig

I found out today that there are Alsatian bear hunting dogs. This information was imparted while trying to convince me that it was a good idea for Craig to go to Lake Tahoe to kill a 700 lb black bear with the liberal application of explosives. It seems that there's been a call to take down said bear because it breaks down people's front doors, wrecks their kitchens searching for food and leaving basketball sized dumps in their livingrooms. Why dynamite? It seems that bullets either lodge in it's bear fat or bounce off it's giant bear skull. Strangely, the conversation made me realize how much I miss interacting with Craig day to day. We had a lively debate, of course, over whether all the sugar he consumed on Friday could sweat out of his scalp and crystallize into a hard shell while he was running. I'm still dubious. And even if that sort of thing was possible, I still don't see how it's my fault. He didn't have to eat the cookies I sent him on the same day as the boss brought doughnuts. We disagreed on that point as well. It was so good to talk to him.

Soup du Jour

I began my plan for having more soups in my diet with French onion soup. Actually, I began with making big vats of beef stock and chicken stock. The first soup was French onion soup from Julia Child's recipe. I have made this soup two other times. One was from a big book of soup recipes I bought ages ago when I last worked at a book store. The other recipe was from Anthony Bourdain's Les Halles Cookbook. Both recipes were okay, but not as yummy as some I've had at restaurants. The recipe this time was by Julia Child from Julia's Kitchen Wisdom. It was so simple that it was written in a paragraph. I also have a mandolin to finely slice the onions this time. That marvelous device is my favorite thing in the kitchen right now. Anyway, with very little effort, I soon had the required quarts of onions. The rest was slowly cooking them into caramelized yumminess, stirring in a little flower to thicken, some cognac to deglaze and some beef stock and white wine. I also used a bit of vermouth as her recipe called for. I think her recipe worked better for me, because hers was designed for home cooks. It was so tasty especially when teamed up with rounds of baguette and some spreadable cheese or pate or both. I don't like my onion soup with the big cheese topped crouton floating in it. I like my bread and cheese separate from my soup. It may sound odd, but that's how I roll – soup wise. Why onion soup? Onions are very nutritious, and I was craving them. The Docs are telling me to eat what I crave – within reason. Next will be Ina Garten's Vichyssoise with zucchini. That recipe has more calories (that I need, ironically) And I have some protein supplements that mix well with creamy soups that I need to consume. Tomorrow, I'll be trying some zucchini pancakes. I've been making a lot of appetizer type dishes. Meal planning and cooking have been so strange for me. Prior to December, food was all about losing weight, laying off red meat, whole grains and high fiber, etc. Now, it's all about getting enough calories and protein. I've been strongly encouraged to eat lots of meat and eggs. Diet is a four letter word. It just weird.

Writing Old Friends

I met one of my writing goals this week. The short story version of Dancing with the German is off to four literary journals. I really can't stand all that secretarial stuff required for mailing out stories, but I got them out before the closest deadline despite a really rocky week. That accomplishment felt good. Now, I can get back to the research for the script Jon and I are still arguing about. This is timely as I expect I'll be spending a great deal of time in various waiting rooms over the next several weeks. A book and a notepad are good things to have at such times. Now that the story is in the mail, I also plan on writing some scenes from various works in progress. Among them are the next installment of the Soldiers novels, the next installment of the Surrender novels and the next chapter of the memoir. I have no idea what I'll do first. I think it depends on which has the strongest pull in a given moment. I plan to post whatever I write from the Soldiers or Surrender realms. The memoir must remain under wraps until it's actually published. I'm looking forward to spending some time with my fictional characters. It's been too long.

When mentioning some of my writing plans and my cooking experiments, I have been lectured by relatives and some friends about taking on too much. I will take this opportunity to say that doing too much just isn't possible for me right now. The moment I overextend, I get so tired that I have to sit or lie down. It took three days to get that apple pie in the oven last week. I cut the apples up on Friday, made the dough on Saturday and it finally got assembled on Sunday. The onion soup was a two day project even with the mandolin. So don't worry. My body is very much in control of letting me do only what it can handle. It's late on Saturday as I write this. I would very much like to shred the zucchini for the pancakes, but I am at the end of my day. I'm going to have a ginger spice cookie and head to bed.

The above paragraph was written at midnight. By one in the morning, I realized that sleep wasn't working. So I pulled up a Miss Marple movie on Netflix.com and set up my couch-side food prep station. As the end credits rolled, I had finished prep for the soup, the zucchini pancakes and the cheese topping for a pizza. Doing prep or actually cooking whenever I find I can also helps me get things done.

Complete Geekdom

I won't put this on my Facebook as my profile photo, but I do have to share my wallowing in complete geekiness. This is my Na'vi avatar from Avatar I did it at Avatarize Yourself. If any of you decide to join me in complete geekdom, please show me your avatar.

Twisters in Cali and Other Oddities

I know I've had a lot of fun ribbing LA weather people and their doppleganger radar uber technology in a region where the weather rarely changes. But last week, they had reason to get a bit hysterical. Among other things, there were three 'suspected' tornadoes. I suppose they will remain suspects until CSI: Tornadoes gets a VIN number or some tornado DNA. What I'm saying is that there was actual breaking news during the storms. I didn't even mind the coverage preempting my court reality shows. Aside from the violence in this group of storms, there were the fire areas from the summer that were in danger of having a water logged mountain come down on them. I only wished the news had preempted Martha Stewart pole dancing on her talk show. Somehow, the segment had something to do with keeping fit. But I digress. The torrential rains and window rattling thunder were great for hunkering down with some great soups, reading materials and a short story that I had to edit as long as the power held out. More on that later.

Food Fight

I received a lot of very helpful suggestions on augmenting the protein in my diet. Thank you! I've implemented some of them and plan to try others. I'm still losing weight but not as quickly as before, and the Docs think I'm getting what I need to heal and regain my strength. None of them want me to get back to the weight I was months ago, but they don't want me to lose much more. Thus, I am allowed to indulge in things that would have made them frown before. Thus, the vast array of apples I purchased to make fresh juice have ended up in a beautiful apple pie. I made the juice, too. But how much apple juice can two people drink before the stuff goes bad? It didn't have preservatives. I transformed it into a form that will survive longer and will be completely consumed. No one wants to waste good food, right? I've also discovered that Buffalo wings are very tasty with Hollandaise sauce though I can't figure out a healthy angle for that. I'm also letting my inner Soup Nazi free. Since soups are a great way to consume veggies, and I can mix my protein boosters in them. I also get to do my favorite cooking basic – making stock. The apartment smells amazing. The aroma and warmth is especially nice as it has been uncharacteristically cold with the rain. Just lovely. Over the next few days, I'll be trying all kinds of new vegetable soups. I'll be sure to share the reviews.

Slow Starts and Finishes

Many people we know are under the impression that Jon and I are a writing machine, easily weaving plots and developing characters without any creative conflict. Cue Edna Krabappel's HA! Jon and I have always had disagreements about characters and plots. Some of those get quite spirited. Some of those are never completely resolved. In those cases, the judgment goes to the one who created the plot or character. Right now, we're disagreeing over a script that has been long in development. Since I'll be home for quite some time, I've taken on writing the first draft. Starting the script is proving difficult because Jon and I haven't quite resolved who are lead characters are. It doesn't help that Jon doesn't like one of the characters. The other is, by all accounts, a tragedy. We've never written such a character. And since neither of us like films that are downers, we've been trying to figure out how to portray him accurately and still have him be uplifting. The debate rages. Well, it doesn't rage. The debate is more of a brisk simmer. At some point, I'm going to pick a direction and see where it goes. Mind you, Jon does not write scripts this way. He likes to solve everything in his head before writing one word. He's gotten better over the years, but I'm still convinced he'd only ever do one draft of anything if he could get away with it. I've learned that nothing ever sees the light of day as a first draft. That's especially true with scripts, because production realities (money, location, cast) always change scripts – even if the director wrote it. What has worked for us as collaborating pair is that my draft often points to the answers he's looking for to do the shooting script. I know this and he knows this, yet somehow we always end up doing the same dance before we start writing.

While I love crashing out drafts, I really hate editing. I may seem like a level headed person, but I am actually a very neurotic writer with all the insecurities that go with that personality. Editing always makes me second guess every sentence and really question my abilities. With this in mind and that I am more fragile than I've ever been from my illness, I get the brilliant notion to send the first chapter of the memoir out to literary journals and competitions. I haven't done anything like this in twenty years for the simple reason that I hate doing it. Even when the rejections have been constructive and helpful, they are painful to a neurotic writer. But here I am, editing a very personal story with some very helpful notes from dear Sarah and nit-picky line edits from Jon and wondering why I ever picked up a pen. Why torture yourself, you may wonder. I wonder that as well. Ultimately, it's about marketing the memoir. If this chapter gets published or wins a prize, that only helps the book's sales. I want this book to do well, so I have to suck it up and get some eyes on it.

Swords and Bears

Last week's CSI: Miami had no ninjas. The villains were Yakuza though they used a different term. It was a nifty twist on a pedestrian plot. The head gangster was trying to re-claim his long lost son, a teen who had no idea who his parents were, but the desire for fatherhood was not born of love or even the machismo of having a son to carry on his name. Oh no, he wanted the boy's young and healthy liver (and not to have with fava beans and a nice Chianti). It seems many Yakuza need liver transplants due to the types of tattoos they get over the years and alcoholism. I had heard about this on 60 Minutes in a disturbing story about a liver transplant given to a big Yakuza at UCLA outside of the donor list regulations. It was a very clever episode. And it had the bad-ass Horatio Caine (David Caruso) take down at the end. It was good to see his dead eyed shooting once again. It's been too long. There has been a distinct change in the show this season. It has a more pronounced sense of humor, and the addition of CSI Cardoza (Eddie Cibrian) and Walter Benson (Omar Benson Miller) has changed the dynamic of the cast. Unlike adding a cute kid to a tired sitcom, these cast additions have brought a new energy to the series. Cardoza and Benson actually did that joke about running away from a grizzly bear (I don't have to outrun the bear. I just have to outrun you). That was startling and very welcome. The episodes have become more ensemble driven than Horatio driven. And while I enjoy that, it was really good to see a classic Caine take down.

I'm slower writing the blogs of late. Everyday things still fatigue me, thus I'm a lot slower in my tasks than I used to be.

Stay Tuned!

Avatar, Meat Juice and Brain Rot

Why would anyone put beef jerky through a juicer? What sort of mind thinks of jerky juice? Craig, naturally. He was helping me plan my juicing for the week. Nutrition is the biggest part of my job as I recover from the surgery and get ready for chemo. You wouldn't think eating would be a problem considering all of the cooking I do. However, my tummy and innards have been more than persnickety since returning home. Keeping my protein and calorie intake up has been a surprising challenge each day. Thus, the juicer enters the picture. Lucy, lent me a Jack LaLanne Power Juicer Pro. I have so many fruits and vegetables for that machine that I needed a cooler as an annex to the fridge. I'm working on fruit juice tomorrow. I have more of that than veggies right now. I'm still working on the protein issue. Any ideas out there? No ideas that involve juicing meat products.

Real Movie Magic

I dragged myself off the sofa long enough to see Avatar. I had been working my way up to longer sojourns that a trip to the doctor's office or the grocery store. I've been going stir crazy as I indicate below. But I digress. I will not spoil anything from Avatar as apparently there are still a lot of people going to see it. We barely got decent seats five weeks into its run. What did I think of it? The experience I had during that film is why I go to movies and frankly, why I'm compelled to make movies. And I feel this way despite paying TWELVE DOLLARS for the ticket. Whys didn't you go to the matinee, you ask. THAT WAS THE MATINEE! Yes, I am aware that I'm shouting. I'm still in shock over that. This certainly will cause me to re-think my criteria for going to a theater. I don't think I could shell out that kind of money for a film that was merely stupid fun.

Avatar is not stupid. Nor is just about astonishing 3D animation (believe me, it is the most amazing visual experience I have ever had). The film is clever in ways I didn't expect. The character and plot development actually continue as part of the action scenes (very unusual for US action films). And though it can be argued that many of the characters begin as cliché (something I have no problem with as such stock characters are easily recognized) they go on during the course of the film to do some surprising things. And this is the core of the wonderful experience I had watching Avatar. It surprised me. It delighted me. It riveted me. At one point, I wanted to leap out of my seat and cheer. I an extremely jaded movie watcher who has spent a lot of time behind the scenes looking at the inner workings of the magic. Sweeping me up whole like Avatar managed is almost impossible anymore. And I am far from an avid fan of James Cameron though I found him to be delightful in person. Nope, I am no film pushover. Avatar is truly wonderful. It is well worth seeing in a theater – even if it's for TWELVE DOLLARS.

Daytime Wasteland

While going to the movies this past weekend was a real treat, daytime television is driving me insane. Admittedly, this state of affairs in partially my fault. I could choose to not look at the telly and spare myself. This is not so easy to do. Even though I'm now able to focus enough to read and write, there are long stretches of the day when I'm trying to get some mindless rest – even a cat nap here and there. The banal inanity of daytime fare often puts me to sleep or at least in a state of mindless stillness for a while. Despite the usefulness of such fare, I must decry some of what assails my brain daily. Since they are at a louder volume, it's the commercials that break through the fog of stupor or even sleep. Some of the products are a necessary service, I suppose. If I had a structured settlement and needed cash now, JG Wentworth's annoying refrain would probably be just the ticket. But I don't, and it's annoying. But more puzzling are the ads for things that no one knew they needed like a panty won make a woman's butt bigger (very puzzling considering all the diet and exercise products to make the butt smaller). The tastefully named bootypop ads are very disturbing to wake up to. I can't imagine that looking natural in real life. Other ads are for people who seem too stupid to function. There are products for those who can't use bar soap or a pump soap dispenser or toothpaste without an eruption of goo, and there are products for those who can't bake brownies without disaster. I'm waiting for the product for those who can't turn door knobs without dire results. These products cause me to be greatly concerned about the decline in mental ability in this country.

Further evidence of this decline can be found in the bounty of reality court shows. I admit to watching Judge Judy and the People's Court. I even take an occasional gander at Judge Mathis and Judge Joe Brown. They hold the same kind of strange appeal as the Jerry Springer Show. In short, I watch because I can't believe that people get on national TV and reveal their lives and foibles as freely as they do. It is astonishing how much people are willing to lay bare on these programs for a very small amount of monetary compensation. I've seen at least two instances where one or the other of the opponents admitted to a criminal act connected to their cases. The problem with that is that though these judges appear to be TV characters, they are still officers of the court and certified arbitrators. They have to report that stuff. Thus, a plaintiff or defendant may win their point and their cash that day only to be arrested shortly thereafter. Amazing. The oddest of these shows is Street Court with 'Judge Mazz' who takes justice out onto the streets. I think it's more likely that he doesn't have money for a set. And if viewing these shows isn't strange enough, one day, I was watching Judge Judy and saw someone I knew! She assisted us in casting Demon Under Glass. In this case, she was the defendant and she won her case without embarrassment or self-incrimination.

Why not watch the news, you may wonder. Well, I tried that. If the bad news wasn't depressing me, the stupid news was making me crazy. On a day when all manner of disasters was happening, The Today Show spent more time on Man Purses than it did on the major national story of that day. You decide if this topic deserved so much time. CLICK HERE. I do get small respites from this inane fare on the Food Network or other channels. I have become thoroughly involved in the adventures of Gordon Ramsay on BBC America. First, I got hooked on Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares. I've now caught up on all of those. Ramsay is a chef on steroids. He's profane and arrogant but fascinating to watch, because his arrogance is justified. He's a hoot. I also watch his prime time series, Hell's Kitchen. And I've found some fun things on the History Channel and Discovery ID where many of the true crime shows live. But these shows require attention. It's harder to drift off while my brain is engaged. I may have to find something else to help me sleep. I swear this type of programming is draining my brain.

CSI: Pandora?

I was going to write about the intriguing changes on CSI: Miami this season. However, the new episode airing tonight either has Ninjas or the Yakuza. I want to see how this unfolds before I make comments. However, I will say that while watching Avatar, thoughts of CSI:Miami did come to mind. I wondered how quickly they would erect the entire Pandora command center in order to find a VIN number on a fish scale as fast as possible. The sets aren't far off from that now.

Stay Tuned!

Holiday Blog Delay

I'm a little off-kilter this weekend. I may have onverdone during my outing to see Avatar. Thus, I'm moving rather slowly today. The blog is underway, but probably won't go up until sometime tomorow. Worry not, it's really zany and worth the wait.

Pasta Fears and Noodle Mutilation

I don't know why, but I've had a fear of making lasagne. Perhaps it was because my cousin's was so good, I didn't think I could ever top it. Maybe it's because the list of ingredients is so long. I've tackled making a baguette but not this particular pan of pasta and sauce. The baguettes were more like bread sticks...dense, rock-hard bread sticks. We're still trying to figure out where that went wrong. But I digress. I got a craving for the dish once my appetite returned (I actually craved bacon first – still do, but that's beside the point). The frozen variety wasn't cutting it for me anymore. I decided enough was enough with avoiding the recipe. There was plenty of time to experiment. I even have someone that can share the big pan of food. Jon loves pasta, but the average lasagne recipe yields way too much food for two people even with freezing some of it. The time had come. Oh, and don't worry about my over doing in the kitchen. I'm taking breaks between each step and doing as much prep as possible sitting down.

The first thing I realized as I tackled Tyler Florence's recipe for The Ultimate Lasagne, is that all that time I spent getting coq au vin and beef bourguignon right came in handy. I can prep Mirepoix in my sleep now. I really enjoy chopping the veg and the herbs. It's like meditating, I suppose. The rest of the recipe involved steps I've done a lot lately like browning meat and reducing sauces. The only thing that set me in fits were those danged noodles. They were big and hot and slippery and annoying. I broke a quarter of them getting them in the hot water. The cooked ones weren't very cooperative either. Jon pointed out that a relaxing past time shouldn't involve angrily muttering at cooked pasta. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I will take a time out here to sum up my feelings about the 2009 Football season for the Philadelphia Eagles. Sigh. Early on, I had the mind set that the team was not going to do very well. Thus, I was pleasantly surprised at how the regular season finished. I felt that any headway made in the playoffs would be a delightful bonus. I wouldn't mind them losing two weeks in a row to those accursed Cowboys if the losses had been less lopsided. The Eagles aren't that bad and, more importantly, the Cowboys haven't been that good. Thus, the season ends for me with a sense of dismay and supreme annoyance. I take solace in the remaining playoff as there are a lot of really great teams. The games should be fun to watch. My only hope is that one of those exciting teams crushes Dallas' ambitions in the most humiliating fashion possible. In other football related musings, I was not that disappointed that Temple U lost its first bowl game in forever. I was shocked that they got to go to one in the first place. I was never a big booster of the team as I thought the University's money would have been better spent in other areas. But for Bill Cosby's sake, I was glad they finally made it to the big time. Maybe next year.

The lasagna is now in the oven. The kitchen is a mess, and I am quite certain that my handling of the noodles would get me a stern reprimand from Mr. Florence. It couldn't be helped. Things just went sideways when I was trying to wrangle the hot, steamy noodles. Then, they got more tangled as I tried to find ones that I could use in the pan. The end result looks okay and the meat sauce tastes good enough to eat out of the pot (which I've been doing though I spoon it out into my little tasting bowl). The apartment smells wonderful. I think it will be delightful. Sometimes, delicious cuisine is not pretty.

One of the great things about the blog in the past couple of months (aside from the great support I've received from you all during the illness) have been friends and readers sharing their recipes and cooking tips. I mentioned writing a recipe from an experiment by a good friend of mine. As it often happens when you really want to make something, Nick was missing a key ingredient. Going out for some smoked pork for his collards was unappealing. He found that he had hot Italian sausage in the house. So he took the sausage out of the casing and browned it with some onions and garlic, quickly sauted the greens then added liquid to braise. He used water. I use chicken stock. The result was a spicey soul food dish with an Italian twist. I replicated the recipe with my own tweaks. It turned out quite nicely though I can't eat something that spicey too often even though a nice piece of buttery cornbread works to cut the heat. I enjoyed the experiment. Moreover, it was really fun to chat back and forth about food. I'm always looking for new ways of making chicken or roasts or soups, so if you have a favorite recipe, do share. As I've said, I have lots of time to experiment.

I was going to do an epic treatise on Daytime TV and how it's driving me insane, but that will have to wait for next time. Meanwhile, I will leave you with my new favorite quote for the week. This is from CSI: Miami. What would cause the biggest pop star in the world to burst into flames? Yes, the new shows are back.

Stay tuned!

Fresh Starts and Kitchen Magic

Craig's ingenious lady gifted him with entry in the LA Marathon for Christmas. The event is in March, thus the window for training is very short. Drastic measures will have to come into play for him to be ready. Which was the point of the gift. It was a ploy to get Craig to stop smoking and eating all of those carne asada tacos every day at work. Craig recognized this, but he cannot let a challenge go unmet. Thus, after a few days of two fisted smoking (yes, I mean a cigarette in each fist), he began training with a wheezing 10 mile run. I think that was a pretty good start for someone claiming to be gorging on turkey every day during the past week. Still, I gave him no sympathy for nearly hacking up a lung. And though I'm not at work, I may still tempt him with a hot breakfast sandwich delivered by Jon. I like poking the bear when he's in training. Craig in training is a fascinating mix of crankiness and hilarity. I will make sure to provide updates.

Cookery Bookery

That's my new favorite phrase. Julia Child coined it to describe her work on her first cook books. It doesn't cover just the writing of the book but all of the research and experiments with recipes. The phrase sounds magical to me somehow – like she was conjuring something more than writing or cooking. Her memoir, My Life in France, was certainly magical for me. It was not just because she was detailing life in France (though I devoured every word and savored every description). I was delighted by Julia's life and her passion for food. I won't go into great detail here. There is no way to do that delightful narrative justice. I heartily recommend reading it for yourself. Click on the title for a link to buy.

What struck me so profoundly in this book was how late in life Julia began her amazing career with food. She was in her 40s when Mastering the Art of French Cooking was published. That was only the beginning of a very long and successful career as a TV chef. For those of us facing ever bigger birthdays, misgivings about choices and timing come up more and more often. Should I have started down this road sooner? Why didn't I take that risk? I shudder at the opportunities I let pass me by in my undergrad days. Those thoughts can really plague one's mind, especially when one is in a situation where there is a lot of time to think. Julia's book was a potent antidote to such musings. She could not have achieved the level of success had she started earlier in life. She needed all of those years of life experience to have the drive, diligence and patience necessary to graduate from culinary school and take on the massive amount of research necessary to produce that cook book. Thus, I was inspired and uplifted. Naturally, all that talk of food made me want to cook some new things. She had some tips in Julia's Kitchen Wisdom that solved problems I'd been having with some recipes. And I was reminded that I wasn't mature enough in my 20s to try to make it in the entertainment industry here. Frankly, my writing wasn't as good as it is now. I needed life experience to have characters with any kind of depth. Also, the industry is very different now. Independent filmmakers are far more accepted now than they were in the 80s. A studio or heavy connections aren't as necessary now as they were then. I am here at the right time with the tools and perspective to make it. Thank you, Julia, for a timely reminder.

It will be a while before I can tackle some of those recipes. I am often admonished to no push myself to hard or too fast. However, that hasn't stopped me from my foodie activities. I advised three people on recipes last week and even wrote one for a talented cook I know that I'll be posting in the food blogs I frequent. It's a very spicy variant on collard greens that I think those chefs will enjoy. It was very tasty but on the outer edge of heat for me. He could tell me what he used to make the dish, but not the quantities. I did a little experimenting of my own and came up with a written recipe for him. That was fun.

Retrospective

All in all, the double ought decade was not so horrible. That's from a strictly personal viewpoint. Globally, well, it's good that it's over. And hopefully, the next one will be better. Personally though, the positives far outweigh the negatives. We've been to France twice (and to the Riviera as well). Those six glorious weeks gave me a lifetime of memories. I visited beautiful Vancouver, a city so breathtaking that it is gorgeous in cold, rainy February. I saw Springsteen perform on both coasts. During the East Coast concert, I drank lovely champagne served with a delicious strawberry. We helped save the Stone Pony from demise (this claim is from my friend and muse, Kim. I choose to believe her). Oh yeah, we made a feature film and a number of shorts. These projects had us working with some really talented people. And I finally became a novelist. I've re-connected with dear friends and made deeper connections with my family. Even this blog has brought me so many lovely friends and some interesting opportunities. The decade was not without personal disasters, frustrations and disappointments, but I gained so much more than I loss.

And I am ready for an even better decade.

Happy New Year!

Hurt/Comfort and Hollandaise

I don't know why, but I had to make Hollandaise sauce this morning. It's probably Julia Child's fault. I have been reading her memoir, My Life in France with great relish. There wasn't anything mentioning Hollandaise per se, but there was talk of buttery dishes. And I'd been craving something more than butter to go on an English muffin. Don't be too impressed by my Mother sauce making skills. Food Network's Tyler Florence came up with a delightfully simple recipe involving a blender. The longest part of the recipe is melting the butter. And it holds up without ever breaking. I felt using that recipe was cheating until a few days ago. While browsing through Julia's Kitchen Wisdom, I found she'd included a blender Hollandaise sauce along side of the original recipe. I suppose that's where the notion of making it today came from. I've been a bit Julia happy since Christmas.

Ah, I know what you're thinking. I've had a huge health scare. Why am I making a sauce whose principle ingredients are egg yokes and butter? Shouldn't I be eating the healthiest of healthy food? Yes and no. My Doc says that there is no such thing as a diet in my world now. I need calories. My blood work is such that eggs aren't an issue. She told me to eat what I want – especially what I crave. It should be noted that I have resisted the all bacon day. I'm still on an antibiotic that throws off my taste buds. Thus, I'm waiting for that to clear to go for the bacon-o-rama. Butter and eggs taste fine though. Fear not. I don't plan on gaining back all the pounds I lost. My diet is very well balanced on the whole. Right now, I'm burning everything I eat.

Hurt/ Comfort and Writing Realities

The whole surgery thing has raised questions from Jon about the physical problems real people have after a major injury like a gunshot and how quickly they would be in any kind of action. Specifically, in the case of The Gunslinger, is it realistic for KD to make love with Shadow just days after being shot? Jon is a real stickler for realism even in fantasy. For example, one of the Hidden Passion scripts, The Highwayman, involves the rule of law in Georgian England. Jon spent a great deal of time researching the circumstances under which someone could be arrested and where and how they would be incarcerated. It was all very interesting, and it actually fit well with the script I had in mind. This isn't always the case with Jon's research, especially where the Romance genre is concerned. I am often the first to rant at the unnecessarily stupid plot elements in Romance novels, but I also know that fans of the genre expect to see certain things – even if they stretch credulity. Sometimes I have to over rule Jon in favor of what's expected and hope it doesn't look ridiculous.

Thus, I concede that a character may not be in the best shape a couple of days after having a slug dug out of the shoulder in olde Wilde West days. They were no IV antibiotics, and painkillers were hit or miss. But I don't think I should be used as a measuring stick. I have nearly 30 years on both characters and am no where near in as good shape (if they were real, mind you). Moreover, the genre fans demand some hot comfort to go with that hurt, Jon has already said that he'd direct the scene to be awkward at first and then grow more passionate. He knew I wasn't budging about the scene. After all, the menstrual cycle is not a factor in most romance novels (including mine). The women are not bloated or crampy – ever. Why would they be? What woman would want to read that for an escape?

This experience will certainly impact my non-genre writing. This sort of experience is a great way of showing how strong a vulnerable character can be or how vulnerable a strong character could be in the wake of sudden and serious debilitation. I certainly can write about it with much more depth than research and interviews could have given me. This won't happen for a while. Right now, it's all too close. I'll need quite a bit of time to write about it with the kind of perspective that such writing would require. For now, the writing that I'm thinking about is much lighter fare. I need some serious escape even if it's memoirs about crazy holiday dinners past that I've been thinking about recently. Who knows? Right now, I'm going back to Julia Child cooking in Paris.

Bon Appetite!

Yule Logs and Good Cheer

So, Jon and I are doing the Christmas thing watching the televised Yule Log on KCAL-TV channel 9 Los Angeles. I taped it as we weren't conscious at 6 am. It's 4 hours of a fireplace burning while carols are playing. The jauntiest of carols, Sleigh Ride by Johnny Mathis is on. I've heard three versions of Last Christmas by Wham. I had no idea there was more than one. I don't think there needed to be more than one. And boy, can singers ever mangle Silent Night. My absolute favorite remains the version by the Temptations. That version sounds like they're all drunk. That whole Christmas album of theirs did. But I digress. I find it surreal to tape four hours of a fireplace burning, yes. Since it's in the 70s outside, a video fireplace is most prudent. And it is very nice.

We weren't sure how much we'd celebrate Christmas this year. A week ago, I wasn't sure if I'd be up to anything at all. Tramping around for a live tree was out of the question. That's tiring under the best of circumstances. Luckily, we had a small, artificial tree from our first Christmas in Los Angeles. I wasn't sure I wanted to celebrate anything then either. We were in the city for ten months. The option on the script that brought us to LA had run out with no production date in site. We didn't really have any friends there. It was our first Christmas away from Philly. It was hot and foggy (how do you celebrate Christmas in heat and fog). And I was still profoundly grief stricken in the wake of Mom's passing late that summer. A few days before Christmas, I was moping through a strip mall near USC when I saw the tree on a clearance table. It reminded me of one that Todd Manning, a soap opera character from One Life to Live had. It was just a little fuller than Charlie Brown's Tree. And it looked like the sort of thing Manning would hang beer cans and action figures from. My Mom loved that character. He was the most interesting person that show had ever produced, so I bought it. We put it up every year even when we have a live tree. I've never hung a beer can in it, but we do put our action figures in it as ornaments. That did the trick this year. And with the lovely wreath gifted to us by Lucy, Ralph and Marguerite, the bouquet from the Archive gang and other decorations, the little apartment is really festive. I feel a thousand times better than I did at Thanksgiving. I have found in the last weeks how profoundly loved I am. There is too much to celebrate to let the holiday pass without some cheer.

Santa and Jon were very generous. Jon was very clever considering I didn't think he had time to shop. I have some books by Julia Child including My Life in France. I've wanted to read that for years. But I find myself reading Julia's Kitchen Wisdom first. I have to have a look at those recipes. I am doing some cooking today. I've had to set up a rig that allows me to chop things while seated on the sofa. I also have to rest a lot between steps and even longer between dishes, but the meal is shaping up. Jon is a fine sous chef keeping up with the dishes and lifting the heavy pots and pans.

I must make an aside here. I've gotten ham glaze on my face somehow. And Jon is testily pointing out that no carol should be sung with 'dooba dooba dos' in them unless it's be Fred Flintstone. I think it may be time to turn off the Yule log.

It's many hours later. We've watched the Alistair Sim Scrooge (it's the best), and we're full of ham and other dishes. I'm pleasantly tired. I think we managed to make rather merry, to quote Bob Cratchit. I hope all you have as well.

What Happened and What's Next

Well, it wasn't just the flu that had me in bed for weeks. During the umpteeth visit to my doctor in three weeks, she heard something in my abdomen. Four hours later, I was in a Santa Monica ER floating along on some really powerful painkillers and realizing that I watched The Godfather far too many times. I'm not going to get into the details of all of what went wrong. I don't feel entirely comfortable putting all that personal detail up on the interwebs. You can call me or e-mail me privately if you want to talk about it.

However, I can share that I have been the object of fascination by scores of perky interns and my super savvy surgeon who'd never seen anything like my case (that does a lot toward making a patient feel like she'll recover).. I've been pushed through silent, dark hospital corridors in my bed like Vito Corleone being hidden from hit men ( found a clip HERE but it doesn't have any audio).

I've been asked many detailed questions about my job at the Archive during some very embarrassing physical exams (apparently electronic archiving is the bees knees with medical personnel. I wouldn't have minded it I wasn't exposed for all the world to see much of the time. Somehow, I was able to answer in great detail. That was probably the morphine pump. I found a way to pass an entire day by watching nothing but court reality shows. I don't normally watch much of that kind of programming. It's too much like Jerry Springer but without the fighting (then, what's the point). That choice of viewing may have been because of the pump. It was more likely that I was trying to find any programming that did not mention Tiger Woods. That was really hard to do without the Food Network. I really missed the Food Network while inside.

I have never been hospitalized in my entire life. Yet, in one visit I managed to have procedures that I've only read about (and some I'd never imagined). I even had the mask over my face in the OR with the counting backwards from 100. I really don't remember thinking 99. While most of this will do wonders for the depth of my writing. And there were some amusing 'only in the Entitlement Zone' aspects to the hospital. They don't bring food around at intervals. You have to order it from room service. Let me say again, you have to order it from a menu from room service. And there were lovely aspects to the care like back rubs and a pedicure (the nurses found out the day after my surgery that I had never been hospitalized and wanted to calm me down so the meds could work, I suppose). That was really nice, but all in all, I would have just assumed skipped the whole ordeal.

However, life is what it is. I had a serious surgery and a long road to recovery. I'm not allowed to think about anything but eating and sleeping for the next few seeks. I'm writing today because so many people needed to hear from me. I really appreciate all of the well wishes and offers of help. I accept all of it including the rain dances. But worry not, knowing me, I'll be writing now that I'm more clear headed. It helps my state of mind. I plan on doing a little cooking at a time. I have to eat, and I like my cooking best. The cookies will not be in time for Christmas, but there will be cookies. Jon has been assisting me for years. I can talk him through most of it from the sofa. I need to have that cheery smell in the air. I am home with the hubs, the love and support from my extraordianrily strong family and friends. I also have some lovely gifts from my Archive friends (including protection from the Happy Gorn, thanks Craig)

That's all for now. Stay tuned.

Comfort Food, Healing and a Little Funk

There are sweet potato pies and a big dish of mac and cheese in the oven. It's four days late, mind, but it's in there. The turkey is carved and awaiting re-heating. There is a delicious normality in the scents. I'm actually hungry enough to eat the two pies. Jon's bottomless pit has return as well. In the land of the studio/archive, Craig is well enough to have two forbidden tacos during the course of the day. They are forbidden by his health conscious girlfriend. And the other co-workers are back to eating their microwaved corn dogs and other questionable repast. Collectively, we're still trying to figure out what WAS that.

Shortly before we were felled, our company was planning on a big December shingdig for the studio, Dragoncor's new digs and the premier of Blood Oath. We'd begun interviewing caterers, and I was planning the press kits and guest lists. But before we really made any headway, I heard from a friend who does these sorts of functions several times a year. I had contacted her for advice. It was sobering. She strongly suggested that we wait until well into January. It seems, holiday party slots go quickly among the people we wanted to invite – for the ones still in town. Many try to hot foot it out by mid-December. She thought our date was good, but she thought we'd be lost in the competing parties. “Nothing is happening in mid-January,” she advised. I was relieved. My concentration was waning, and I was just realizing that I was really sick. Much to my surprise, everyone else involved was ecstatic to wait. We can all slow down and hone the presentation. I can really rest during the big Christmas break. But most groovy of all is being able to squeeze into a much smaller little black dress. Sweet.

I really appreciate all the very nice notes and concern. That helps a lot. I was really grumpy for a while. That's the funny thing about those romance stories where the hero or heroine is being nursed back to health. The patient is so surly as to be evil. The patient is not in the least bit attractive. I won't get into the scents and sounds. It's just ugly all around. But who would read a romance that included mucous or other even more odious fluids. I wouldn't (and I don't want to know about any such fiction either).

I've been working on a much longer blog about the writing and the projects and the joy of finding Soul Train reruns from it's ealiest days (nothing lifts the spirits like a little Funk). It should be ready by next week.

Stay Tuned!

Hiatus

I've decided to look on the past two weeks as a DIY Spa Cleanse. I've been alcohol-free, fat-free, meat-free and a lot of days, food free during that time. I'm certain that everything bad that was inside me is gone. I've had quite a pre-holiday slim down as well. The fevers, coughing and what not are, thankfully, over. Jon and I are almost working at a normal level. Needless to say, we are way behind in everything. I haven't been able to write in all that time. There will be a full blog over the Thanksgiving Holiday. There are great things happening despite the pestilence that visited our house. Stay tuned.