The joy of solitude, especially when served with a scoop of creme fraiche ice cream

Some of the best meals of my life I've enjoyed sitting across the table from my family or dearest friends. From a homemade pizza or Emeril's banana cream pie to fondue or tapas, I'm a firm believer in the magical power food has to bring people together in one shared experience, made all the memorable by a generous helping of whipped topping and washed down with a tasty vino.

But most days, I eat alone. And while that may seem lame, I confess I actually really enjoy it.

When sharing a meal with friends, it is the people who captivate your attention (or should). The flavors and sensations of every bite can be easily lost in the distraction of a good dining companion and excited conversation.

So many nights I actually relish in the art of eating alone, when I can become fully present with my food, contemplating and savoring every bite in some sort of deep meditation.

Most evenings I perform this ritual in the privacy of my own home, dressed down in my comphies away from the judging stares of people who might wonder how a young woman ends up all by herself in a restaurant.

But tonight I dined alone in public.

I'm not sure exactly what prompted me do to this, except I guess it seemed like a good way to end an exhausting, frantic and all around crappy workweek. No need to go into the details, but we'll just say I got stuck late at the office three nights in a row, each night forfeiting better plans to pray at the altar of my editors.

I was all set to go to happy hour around 6 p.m., feeling cute in my hot pink shirt, skirt and heels and looking forward to a nice endcap to the workweek. But I never made it.

By the time I walked out of the building at 8 p.m., the happy hour specials had long run out and most of my friends were booked or retired for the evening.

I didn't feel like going home just yet, but didn't know what to do with myself. There was one thing I did have a handle on at this point: I was really hungry.

As I made my near weekly wine run at Whole Foods this crazy idea popped into my head: Why not go to Derek's?

For the uninitiated, Derek's is this cozy little gourmet restaurant in the Rosemary Court district of Sarasota. It's the kind of place where chicly painted canvases hang on the wall above wooden furniture covered in the most classic touch of restaurant style, white table clothes. The bottoms of the tables are even covered in soft, squishy foam so when one with particularly long legs goes to cross them during her meal she does not bruise them ...

But I digress.

It's the kind of place where the chef walks around the restaurant smiling at all his patrons and watching while his artwork dissolves in their mouths, covering their palates with his sensuous tango of flavors. Somewhere I read he trained with Emeril.

It's the kind of place I always want to go more often. But it's pricey - the entrees are all upward of $25 - and I usually can't get anyone to spring the cash to go with me.

I don't think the idea of going to Derek's by myself ever popped into my head, and if it did I probably brushed it aside right away to make room for something more practical. I always dreaded the thought of going to restaurants by myself to be pitied by all the happy families and bubbly couples. It always seemed better to save the money for a time I could go with friends and share the experience. And especially after a hard week at work, I'd always figure I was too tired to enjoy it.

But maybe I'm just getting old. Maybe more secure. Maybe I'm starting to realize that the days when I can go out and drop a decent wad of cash to treat myself - just me - to a phenomenal meal could be numbered. A friend of mine pointed out just a few weeks ago when we went out to eat "If we had kids think of how much this would cost us?"

How many people really have the luxury to go out and treat themselves to a three-course gourmet meal and be able to savor every morsel completely uninterrupted and free of the any guilt of not sharing it with spouse and/or children?

Perhaps this all dawned on me the last hour of my workweek, as I sat and pouted about missing happy hour and my co-worker fielded calls from his six-year-old daughter wondering when dad was coming home for dinner.

So when the idea to go to Derek's popped into my head, not only did I let it take hold I truly embraced it. (Besides, I was really good this week. I only went to Starbucks one morning and out for lunch twice.)

I went, I sat all by myself and I savored every morsel of food and every minute of the blissful solitude that came with it. And I laughed to myself - and somewhat pitied - the couple looking quite uncomfortable on some sort of awkward date, as well as the one taking pictures of each other across the table with their cel phones.

But none of that really matters. It was really about me and the food, all three courses.

I started with the soup of the day, a pureed celery root garnished with candied celery root and a blue crab salad. Chef Derek himself served it to me tableside, pouring the creamy broth over the elegant pile of crab meat. I immediately found comfort in the smooth, creamy broth, the savory flavor interrupted every so often by a sweet bite of candied celery or the tender blue crab. Every few bites I tasted something spicy, like dried chile.

I almost died when my main course of lamb shank dressed in cumin vinaigrette and some sort of date sauce arrived. The meat looked like it was just about ready to jump off the bone and into my side dishes of mashed chic peas and a cracked wheat salad. It met this fate as soon as my knife pierced the meat. I felt like I was eating the very best comfort meal anyone could ever find in the Mediterranean. At first my feelings were mixed about the cracked wheat. It had a very distinct texture like oatmeal and tasted, well, kind of wheaty. But as I worked through the rich meat and tangy chick peas I came to appreciate the contrast of the wheat salad, with bits of black olives, dates and onions in it.

By the time I shoved almost every bite on my plate into my mouth I was stuffed, but I had come way to far in this catharsis to leave it unfinished. The dessert menu arrived, and while I really craved the banana custard with ricotta doughnuts, something about the carrot cake called to me. Perhaps it was the idea of savoring one of my favorite childhood sweets, all gourmeted to the max and dolled up with creme fraiche ice cream that appealed to me.

I left the restaurant feeling full of good food and contentment.

Some people measure independence by one's ability to go through life not relying on other people for their own happiness. Maybe this was some weird step I needed to take, but never did in my years living by myself. To go out on my own and enjoy one of my favorite pleasures without having anyone to go with.

P.S. - This was actually the second time this week I ventured out to dine on my own, but my trip to Luna in Venice earlier this week didn't seem quite as ground-breaking. I just wanted lasagna. Maybe I'm on to something ...

Tupperware: Keeping food fresh and cubicles bonded

So one day this week my fairly new cubicle mate approached me with a curious question.

"Hey Tiff. Do you like split pea soup?"

"Um ... yeah... I guess," I stammered, caught slightly off guard by the inquiry. "I eat, well, pretty much anything."

I was still kind of processing the split pea soup question when this fellow foodie announced that he had made some and was going to bring it for me to try the next day. It seemed like the only appropriate thing to do in this situation was to offer some sort of foodstuff of my own as compensation.

"I have some lamb stew I just made and am trying to get rid of. I'll bring it in and we'll have some barter action tomorrow."

And so commenced what I expect to be an underground trading of Tupperware containers in our little cubicle row by the window in the H-T office.

Every year before the first day of school (and yes this still happens) my dad reads us this story "Grover Goes to School" in which Sesame Street's furry blue monster learns the ins and outs of the kindergarten social structure by sharing or bartering lunch items and school supplies with the other kids in the classroom. The story has all sorts of lessons about not giving away stuff you want just to make friends, but also conveys the satisfaction that comes with sharing something of your own and connecting with a classmate.

I guess there is some childlike satisfaction and camaraderie in sharing your things, especially with those people you spend so many of your waking hours stuck in a cubicle next to. This new found bartering of food is not so much about what's in the Tupperware, but about sharing some sort of common ground with your fellows in the trenches.

I've always been a big proponent of dining with the people you work with. It's been a running joke for years that when there is a meal to be expensed, I will find a seat at the table. And for years, my co-workers in another office and I used to enjoy covering the conference room table with newspapers and devouring spreads of boiled garlic shrimp or ribs prepared just for us by one of the editors.

What better way to relieve workplace tensions?

The split pea soup was awesome. It was creamy and thick with chunks of ham and a nice spicy flavor.

My desk mate was also a big fan of my lamb stew. And Lord knows I have plenty of food around my house these days. I don't mind sharing it : )

Share our strength

If you've been watching Food Network lately, you've probably seen the ads for the Great American Dine Out. Basically what this means is that if you can force yourself to go out for a night on the town and have dinner at one of the participating restaurants, they will make a donation to programs that strive to end childhood hunger. Read more about it and find a complete list of participating restaurants here.

Food Network's Aaron McCargo Jr. - winner of the 2008 Next Food Network Star - gave a touching pitch for the program on his show this weekend when he talked about how he used to go to neighborhood programs for free breakfast or free lunch when he was a child.

While I don't have that kind of personal experience, I see the impact hunger and poverty can have on children in my dayjob as a reporter. When children are hungry, it affects everything from their behavior to their learning. And the number of children in need is growing, fast, as the recession leaves many of their parents jobless. Here's a story I wrote last year on the issue.

Anyway, if you're dining out this week, consider dining at one of these restaurants. If you're not, don't despair. My sister pointed out that you'd probably make more of a difference if you just donated the money you would have spent on dinner (especially if you're choosing from sub-par restaurants). After all, the restaurants only donate a portion of your money.

Most schools or school districts have funds they use to help buy for things for students who are struggling to pay for basic necessities, including food. Most of the ones I deal with would gladly accept any amount of donation.

Cat's new kitchen

Orlando's celebrity chef scene just got a new addition last week with Cat Cora opening her new restaurant Kouzzina at Disney's Boardwalk. The restaurant is in the old Spoodles.

This is exciting on a number of levels: 1) Cat Cora is an Iron Chef 2) Cat Cora is the ONLY female Iron Chef EVER (in both American and Japanese history) 3) The restaurant is Greek, which I happen to love and 4) I end up in Orlando quite often.

Need I say more?

Anyway, a friend of mine went to the media event for the opening and blogged about it on her site themeparkmom.com.

If you're interested, you can check out the menus here.

Orlando already has haunts run by Emeril and Wolfgang Puck, and I absolutely can't wait to get over and try this one.

And yes, I did finally figure out how to post the hyperlinks instead of the actual web address. Thank you H-T blog training. And thank YOU for noticing!

Lambapalooza

So it's been brought to my attention that part of the solution to my lamb angst may have been in the check out aisle at Publix.

This month's Saveur had extensive coverage of cooking with Lamb, including recipes from all over the world and tips on how to de-bone it.

If you are interested, check out this super sweet hyperlink I just figured how to add to my blog.

And by the way, I'm on round two of the lamb stew. The re-up is always tastier than the first time around. And man this stew really has a kick to it. It didn't SEEM like that much cayenne pepper...

Basic brunch

At some point in my morning coffee ritual I started to think "You know this seems like a good day for brunch." But I'm not one to leave the house on weekend mornings until after I've had a sufficient fill of coffee and a good workout. Besides, isn't brunch just so much more delightful when consumed at home in your pajamas?

The solution for me is to get creative, evaluate what I have in the fridge and what I can whip into some sort of yummy, eggy concoction (having eggs on hand usually helps in this process). One time my spontaneous brunch involved scrambling some eggs with ricotta cheese and rosemary and then baking them with some Parmesan cheese sprinkled on top (I highly recommend it). I also find the brunching an effective way to get rid of stuff in the refrigerator.

Today, I had some of the leek and mushroom quiche I had left over from the party. I always like some sort of bread or starch with my eggs, and today I had a baguette that was a few days old I figured I could revive and make into a delicious accompaniment.

Somewhere along the line I picked up the trick that you can revitalize stale bread by sprinkling it with water and popping it in the oven. So that's what I did. Before cooking for just a few minutes at 350, I also sprinkled the tops with some salt, pepper, fresh rosemary and shredded Gruyere.

But the key to any successful brunch is, of course, the mimosa. I usually have a bottle of cava, the Spanish equivalent of champagne, on hand in the fridge. The beauty of cava is that it packs the same crisp, bubbly punch as champagne, but you can get a good bottle for about $10. I like a rose. I also often have the amazing mango smoothie that Botlthouse Farms makes on hand. Mixing the two together makes for an even more flavorful and impressive mimosa than your standard OJ. (Serve it at a brunch party, and all your friends will think you are awesome).

With that few minutes of cleaning out the fridge and creativity, brunch is on the table!

Brie-licious

So the dish that really stole the show at Cathy's party was a Brie en Croute her sister made. Her sister divulged that it was actually a Paula Deen recipe. I tracked it down on Food Network.

The appetizer basically involves topping a wheel of brie cheese with fruit preserves and walnuts, wrapping it in pastry puff and baking it so the cheesy gets all melty and delicious. I'm not kidding you. This is amazing.

See for yourself.

To serve it, you just put the whole loaf out and slice it like bread.

Off the beaten blog path

Did some more off the global adventure path cooking today, this time for my friend Cathy's surprise birthday party.

The idea was to bring some sort of munchie, and I figured finger foods are always appropriate for parties. I decided to go with a mushroom and leek quiche recipe I came up with a few years ago. To make this dish even more party-licious, I make the quiche in little muffin tins so they are individual and handheld and no one has to worry about forks and knives or anything.

Although, I feel like my meager contribution paled in comparison to the rest of the food at the party. Cathy's sister put out quite the spread. It turns out not only is she a big foodie, but her significant other is a chef. I call that cheating,

Either way ...

Ingredients:

4 tbsps. butter
1 package baby portabella mushrooms, chopped
1 large leek, chopped (both white and green part; you will probably only use half)
6 eggs
2 1/2 cups half and half
2 cups grated gruyere cheese
salt
pepper
nutmeg
1 package pre-made pie crust

What to do:

Start by melting the butter in a frying pan. Add the leek and mushrooms and cook until tender.

In a mixing bowl, mix the eggs, half and half and cheese. Beat with a handheld blender until smooth. Then add the veggie mixture, some salt and pepper and about 1 tsp. of nutmeg and whisk until combined.

Using a glass, cut the pie crust into circles that will fit into the muffin tins. When the muffin tins are all crusted, pour the quiche mixture into them.

Cook for about 40 minutes and 350 degrees. You want the top of the quiche to be a golden brown color.

To SoBe... or not to SoBe ...

... I actually think I already know the answer to that question.

For those not in the know on this one, by SoBe I'm referring to South Beach in Miami. More specifically, to the annual and extravagant food and wine festival.

Each year masses of foodies from all over the country flock to see the rock stars of the culinary world do their thing, while indulging in dishes from some of the best chefs in the nation. Oh, there's also vino.

I've been wanting to go for the past few years, but it's pretty pricey and most years I either had other things I needed to spend my money on or had no one to go with me.

But I've resisted so long, and really haven't treated myself to a vacation (besides visiting family at home) since I entered the workforce. I think this will be the year I succumb to the temptation.

The big event at the festival is the Grand Tasting Village, where one can pay a somewhat hefty sum for unlimited food and wine and a chance to see presentations by the likes of Emeril, Rachael and Bobby.

The chefs also do a number of events besides the tasting. I'm eyeing Rachael's beach burger bash and Emeril's champagne cocktail party.

The festival runs from Feb. 25 to Feb. 28, and tickets go on sale in late October.

Link to Bobby Flay's NY State Fair recipes

So I was sitting here having a totally lazy Saturday morning sipping some coffee in my PJs when I realized I never went back to look for the Bobby Flay recipes from the New York State Fair in Syracuse.

To refresh everyone's memory (and with more specific detail than I mentioned in my tired, excited post-Bobby Flay stupor) he cooked:

1) wild mushroom grits with poached eggs and serrano chile sauce and blue corn tortilla strips

2) sweet potato gratin and

3) brined roast rack of pork with apple chutney and sour mash pan sauce.

All of the recipes involve NY ingredients.

If you are interested, check this page out.

Comfort food

It's 12:30 a.m. and I'm not particularly hungry. I don't like to eat right before I go to bed. But here I am devouring a plate of hot sauce-slathered chicken wings and french fries.

They are the remnants of my massive takeout order from Casa di Pizza earlier this week. The yummy blue cheese they brought with my order is long gone, and I am now resorting to a store brand from Publix. It's not very good, but hey, what do I expect? This is Florida. Crappy blue cheese is a tradeoff for all this sunshine.

If you're wondering why I'm sitting here having this high caloric midnight snack, you're not alone. I'm also curious.

I'm sure part of it is my internal commitment to not wasting any of the food in my refrigerator. But beyond that, it just seemed right. After a few glasses of wine and a relaxing bubble bath, something about the chicken wings and fries just screamed a perfectly peaceful and comforting way to end my evening.

Now it's important to note that Casa di Pizza is actually a Buffalo place. They even have beef on weck and Sahlen's hotdogs, along with the best pizza and wings I've ever had during my time in Florida. Yes, I know maybe I'm biased. But I find the fact Casa di Pizza will bring these little tastes of home right to my doorstep incredibly endearing.

If you live in the area and haven't tried the place stop reading this now, Google the number and place your order. The pizza and wings are far superior to any other I've had in this area. In fact, for most of my time here I never really ate wings at all. They just weren't good enough anywhere to justify the calories.

I guess we all have those foods that for whatever reason remind us of home, and it's not so much the food itself as the memories it conjures that brings us comfort.

It's not like growing up in Buffalo we were all given chicken wings as pacifiers. But for whatever reason I find myself craving them some times, when I will just sit here nearly perfectly content as I taste the familiar flavors.

An experiment with potatoes au gratin

I deviated a little bit this evening from my international cooking routine to whip up a side dish for my friend Cathy's nifty birthday party (Happy Birthday Honey :)

The word on the street was that her daughters were making steak, so I thought I'd put together a potatoes au gratin. It's a simple enough dish, but I'd never made it before. And when I started looking for recipes online I wasn't very happy with any of them. I wanted a cheese that would be full of flavor, and off the beaten path. Not just your typical cheddar.

So I reviewed a bunch of recipes and did what I've been doing quite a lot of these days - made up my own. It was a toss up in the end between using a Gruyere and this cheese called Dubliner that a friend turned me on to when he brought it one time we were fishing (yes fishing with me typically looks like a wine and cheese party).

Dubliner is an Irish cheese named - big surprise - for the city of Dublin. It reminds me of a sharp cheddar, but is also has a nutty flavors like swiss. I combined it with some parmesan. I used quite a bit of cheese because it just seemed yummy.

Here's how I did my potatoes au gratin:

Ingredients:

About five red potatoes

One yellow onion

Two blocks of Dubliner cheese, shredded (about four cups)

One half block Parmesan cheese, shredded (about one cup)

Salt

Pepper

3 tbsps. butter

3 tbsps. flour

1 cup half and half

1/2 cup Chardonnay

What I did:

I start by peeling and slicing all of the potatoes into extremely thin rounds. I also slice the onion into thin half circles. Then I start layering the potatoes in a 9 by 13 baking dish, placing bits of the onion in between the layers.

I start the sauce by melting the butter in a saucepan. When the butter is melted, I add the flour and mix until combined. Then I add the milk and stir until combined and season with salt and pepper. I add the cheese (reserving some for a topping) and stir until melted. I stir in the wine and cook until well combined.

When the sauce is done, I pour it over the potato layers and lightly shake the pan to make sure it all gets coated. Then I cover it with tin foil and stick in a 350 degree oven and cook for about 1 hour. You want the potatoes to be tender and the sauce to be thick. Toward the end of the cooking, uncover, sprinkle with remaining cheese. You can also put it for a few minutes under a broiler so the topping gets crispy (watch to make sure it doesn't burn though).

I let mine sit over night and it was great the next day!

There are no pictures of this one because I didn't think of it before I took it to Cathy's. But there will likely be an encore presentation : )

An amendment on the potatoes au gratin: I tried a second batch later in the week to get rid of the copious amounts of potatoes and cheese I purchased. This time I used gruyere and the dubliner cheese. I think I liked the combo version better. Just a nice, sharp contrast. Oh and that time I used red onions, which lended a different flavor.

A note on scoring free food ...

Many of my friends and dining companions laugh at me when I go to restaurants (usually of the franchise sort) and fill out the little cards with all of my personal information in the hope of scoring freebies.

Well to all of you cynics, HA! I have the last laugh this month, with restaurants stuffing my mailbox with little coupons for free bang bang shrimp at Bonefish, a dessert of my choice at Friday's, a burger at Red Robin and a buy one get one meal deal at Outback.

Sure, I have no idea where a Red Robin is anywhere outside of Buffalo. Sure the closest Friday's is about an hour away in Port Charlotte. And sure, I don't even LIKE Outback and never eat there. (I suspect I got the coupon because I joined the birthday club at Bonefish, which is owned by the same company.

(Oh, and if the card asks for an anniversary date and you don't have one just make one up. Play to win).

Chances are I won't end up claiming most of these freebies. But it's just the idea of being entitled to something for free that I get a kick out of. I take pleasure in knowing that, if I so choose, I can walk into a restaurant and demand some free food item.

I did attempt to claim my free dessert from Friday's this evening, but my dining companion forgot to print the coupon for me (after several reminders). I probably won't be back to claim it before it expires at the end of the month : (

But I will find a way to claim at least one of my birthday freebies. Who can turn down the bang bang shrimp from Bonefish?

Ode to my favorite wine, ever ...

... or at least for now.

If you haven't familiarized yourself with Chilean wines stop whatever you are doing immediately, call the nearest wine store you think will be open and steer yourself in that direction. I don't think it's even fair to call Chile an "up and coming" wine region anymore. For those of us that really enjoy our vino, it's here!

Chile is getting a lot of mainstream attention for its cabernet sauvignons and even sauvignon blancs. While these are both great wines coming out of the country, I challenge the real aficionados to get a little more adventurous. Pick up a carmenere.

Carmenere is a bold, full-bodied wine that is usually spicy, and sometimes smoky. These wines are tougher to come by. For example, for such a great wine, the local Total Wine only has about a half dozen of them.

The problem with carmenere - or at least selling it - is that the flavors in the wine are so bold only really seasoned palettes can appreciate it. Maybe in a few years though these Chilean wines will gain the same popularity of some Spanish wines on liquor store shelves.

In the meantime, look for my favorite label of the moment Santa Alicia. I've had a number of different wines - chardonnay, shiraz, malbec ... - from this Chilean winery and they've all been fantastic. Get an $8 bottle of carmenere and it will hold it's own at any tasting against $20 California bottle.

If you are in Sarasota, you're in luck. Whole Foods has had an ample supply of Santa Alicia carmeneres, malbecs and chardonnays for $8. If you buy six bottles, you get 10 percent off, and if you like bold and flavorful wines you'll drink that no problem.

The pleasure of a one pot meal, especially when recovering from too much fun lately

It's been a long week. Or rather, it's been a long three or four of them.

Let me start by saying that I'm the kind of girl who likes a lot of down time. I like to be able to squirrel away every few weekends all by myself with a few bottles of wine and new recipes. Just me, all by myself, doing whatever it is I feel like at any given moment in my little apartment with all of my things close by me. Too much fun, too much excitement will drive a girl like me to temporary seclusion. Call it lame. Call me old, or a loser. That's just me.

I've been running toward this hermit status for so long I don't even know how long it's been.

All I know is it really started when my parents decided to fly down to help me replace the carpet in my apartment.

My family has been bugging me since the day I moved in more than six years ago to get my apartment's management to replace the carpet. I always figured I was lucky they gave me a place to live, and never thought I'd stay long enough to make it work the effort. And, to me, the carpet never seemed so bad in the first place. But my family always figured I was paying enough in rent each month to warrant a pet free, stain free, fluffy new carpet.

The one defense I always used to support my laziness was that the whole carpet installation was just too much work for me to deal with, me a successful, working journalist with far more important things to worry about. At some point this past year my mom decided she was sick of this BS and volunteered to come down with my dad and do it for me. (You may call me spoiled. I call this the millennial generation. Read up on it.)

So about three weeks ago they descended on Sarasota, and more specifically my sacred little refuge. Before I knew it, they were in my apartment turning my nice, settled life of six years upside down, packing and stacking up all of the books, knick knacks and photos that hadn't been moved in years and piling them up in the kitchen. Before long, there was nothing left in my living room but the carpet stained by years of accidentally spilled red wine and coffee. (Before this whole ordeal began, my friend Elaine and I talked about kissing the old carpet good bye with a baptism by red wine. But then we realized the wine would be put to better use if we just drank it).

All of my belongings hovered in towers on the counters in my kitchen, my furniture lined up next to bed, when the carpet people showed up at 8:30 a.m. I stood watching them tear up my living room in some sort of trance as my mother shooed me out the door to the office. It's a rare event I get my butt to work before 10 a.m., and I think my editor found it amusing the new carpet installation was traumatizing enough to propel me so early into the office.

It really wasn't such a big ordeal. In fact, I got through it doing next to nothing. It was the whole metaphorical process of picking my whole life up, moving it around and leaving it unsettled and disorganized - if only for an evening - that I found so traumatizing. To me, a new carpet also felt like a commitment. It felt like I was pledging to stay in this very place a good chunk longer to make it worth the while. This was also all happening the week before school started, so I was stressed and busy at work trying to file a bunch of stories.

I walked into my apartment at the end of that day, already tired from my back to school preparations and terrified of what new projects my parents might have found to take on that morning. I immediately smelled the new carpet odor, and as I took the few steps down the hall to see my new carpet found myself smirking.

"So..." my mom said beaming from my living room as she put all of my personal belongings back in all the wrong places. "What do you think?"

She was so excited that for a brief moment I thought about just lying. Pretending like it was the greatest thing since manchego cheese or a bottle of Santa Alicia. But at that point I was already too tired, too overwhelmed and too drained. I just found the whole situation amusing.

"It looks ... well ... the same as the last one," I said laughing. "I guess it is cleaner."

I started moving methodologically through the apartment putting everything back in its proper place. For a moment I thought "Maybe this is the time I should just mix it all up. Leave it somewhere new. Aw hell. I'll just get to it later." We were up and doing random "projects" around the house all night. We finally finished to break for dinner at about 10 p.m.

Thus began all the fun, all the excitement, all the stress and lack of routine that has left me in the drained state I now inhabit.

Before they left the sunshine state, my parents took me to Disney, where we wandered around an amusement park in the August heat, ate with Remy (of Ratatouille fame) and at Wolfgang Puck's and Emeril's. They left me one Sunday, and I woke up the next day for the first day of class at a brand new high school at 7 a.m., when I had my Starbucks confiscated. Then ensued all of the 28th birthday celebrations, all of the Bobby Flay, chicken wing festivals, workouts with my brother and blog project shenanigans. Not to mention all the thinking and reflection that comes with every birthday.

I was drained when it all started and I was drained when I came back to Sarasota this week. It was all I could do to make it for two more birthday celebrations : ) After my friend Dan took me for a birthday drink (or three) at some point this week I knew I had it. I was in bed that night by 9:30. Somehow I made it to the weekend, muddling through all the tired and all the cranky that follows all of this over stimulation.

So one might believe it was good karma that after all these weeks of stress, fun and excitement, that I pulled a country with a national dish that amounts to not much more than a comforting and hearty chicken soup. What better way to kick back, get back in touch with yourself and relax your soul than chicken boiled and simmered in a pot with a bunch of yummy veggies?

I will admit that even as I write this I still don't feel like I've really taken a break, or as Jimmy Buffett once sang "a weekend off to try and recall the whole year." But an evening home in my comphies with a delicious one pot dish is a little closer than where I've been lately. I'm on to some more carmenere and carrot cake.

PS - Hope this was sufficient Emily! I am so fortunate to have friends who always point me in the right direction : )

Some chicken wings, one giant red cabbage and lots and lots of potatoes

So we ended up doing most of our German cooking today, before the big Oktoberfest. We had planned to make the red cabbage and potato salad in advance a) to lighten the workload the day of our party and b) we figured they would taste better if they had a chance to sit overnight and get all melded. There was a debate whether to do the black forest cake day of or day before, but Dad seemed to want to do it early. Then Heather and Amit were having such a ball they suggested that we get a jump start hand shredding the potatoes for the pancakes. We figured "What the heck?" About seven hours (minus a dinner break) and 10 pounds of potatoes we are finally finished.

This marathon cooking also happened immediately after our return from the National Chicken Wing Festival in Buffalo.

For the uninitiated, the National Chicken Wing Festival is the annual celebration of Buffalo's culinary claim to fame. I have actually met people in my life unaware of the fact that the "Buffalo wing" got its name from the city. I'm never really sure where people think it comes from. It's not like, you know, buffaloes have wings (ha... haha).

We also never called them Buffalo wings here, like they do most other places in the country. Just chicken wings. Although I guess now they come in so many flavors maybe it's important to clearly distinguish between them.

The story of the wing starts at the Anchor Bar back in the 1960s. The story I always heard was the owners' son came back late one night with some friends and wanted a snack. All they had left was the wings from the chicken, so they deep fried them and tossed them up with some hot sauce and thus birthed a national obsession.

Decades later, about a half million people have flocked to Buffalo since 2002 to consume about 2.4 million chicken wings. The idea for the festival apparently came from some Bill Murray movie Osmosis Jones where the main character dreams of going to the National Chicken Wing Festival. But there never was one, so in 2002 this local guy (who beat Bobby Flay in a Throwdown) decided to start one.

Restaurants come from all over the country to compete for various titles to demonstrate their awesomeness. I actually met a guy from a restaurant called Hurricane in West Palm Beach (apparently there's also a location in Sarasota) who said they come every year just for the shot to be recognized as among the elite wings in the nation. They had wings in all sorts of tropical flavors, like mango and raspberry chipotle, but none of us thought they were that delicious.

There are also things like a chicken wing eating contest and bobbing for wings in a pool of blue cheese (yes, gross).

Check it out.

Anyway it was a long day for all of us foodies in my family. But I digress and get back to my cabbage ...

The recipes will probably have to wait until at least tomorrow for posting, since I am getting very sleepy.

I'm fully aware ...

... meeting Bobby Flay doesn't count as any kind of foreign culinary adventure. But, hey. It was kind of interesting. Wasn't it?

Something that does: The Wikipedia list of countries.

For anyone who is interested in checking up on me.

Today, we will begin with the German sauerbraten ...

When I found it necessary to meet Bobby Flay ...

You know those mornings when you just wake up super early because you know something exciting is going to happen?

Like the first day of school when you're a kid. Or your birthday. Or the day you leave for vacation.

Well that was me at about 5:50 a.m. I had my alarm set for 6 a.m., but was fully alert and moving before the chimes rang. I knew today was the day I would get to meet Bobby.

If you know me, you know I'm not a morning person. I have trouble getting to work by 9 a.m. This was a real feat for me.

I found out about Bobby Flay's visit to the New York State fair several months ago. One of my pals at The Daily Orange at SU saw a Throwdown reference on my Facebook page and asked if I knew he was coming. I'd already been thinking of a trip to Buffalo anyway, so figured I could just extend my visit. I bought a plane ticket, ordered a Mesa Grill cookbook and was all ready to come see Bobby.

This morning I made my parents get up and on the road by 7 a.m. ish to begin the two and a half hour drive to Syracuse. I wanted to make sure we got their early enough for a spot in line or a seat at the demonstration.

The prospect of meeting Bobby Flay had me in a tizzy all morning, little butterflies of excitement fluttering around all inside me. As I left my bedroom I looked at a bag of Fowler's chocolates I bought earlier this week. I thought "Maybe Bobby would like some chocolate shaped like Buffalo chicken wings" and brought a packet of them with me.

Our early arrival - three hours before his demo - paid off. As soon as we staked out a bench in the shade, Bobby made his first appearance on the stage to do an interview with some sort of radio or tv morning show. There were also already about 100 people there already waiting.

I was actually going to go easy on the stalking this trip, but after Bobby left the stage my mom suggested that my dad and I try to follow him. We did. When we lost him - I've read that Bobby runs marathons - mom suggested we go wander around the fair to try and find him. I think she just wanted to point us in the snack direction and have some peace to do her Sudoku.

We returned with some fried dough, french fries, dippin dots and a Dinosaur BBQ sandwich to wait out the rest of the time before the demo. The place filled up fast and was - not surprisingly - standing room only. I'd guess there were about 1,000 people.

We also watched his Throwdown assistant Stephanie spend about two hours on stage prepping the food for him and getting ready (with two of her own assistants). That was all pretty entertaining.

Then at 1 Bobby took the stage, strolled comfortably behind the stove and whipped up a meal made of NY state ingredients - polenta with wild mushrooms, sweet potato gratin and a pork tenderloin with apple chutney. It all looked so yummy. Bobby said the recipes will be on the fair web site, so when I find them I will post the link to them.

Our three hours of wait time gave my parents and I plenty of time to strategize the best way to get from our benches to the line for the cookbook signing. I bolted over as soon as the demo ended, but still ended up about 200 people back, putting me on shaky ground for whether I would actually make it in the one hour period.

But then Bobby showed up a little early, and even extended his signing period (after apparently scoring a police escort to catch a plane at the airport).

By the time we got close to the front of the line, my little gift of Buffalo wing-shaped chocolate had started melting. Then to make it worse, I accidentally dropped them, crushing them into an ambiguous looking pile of semi-melted chocolate in a plastic bag tied with pink curling ribbon.

"Does it look too bad to give him?" I asked my mom.

She looked at the bag and kind of held back a laugh.

"Well you can just tell him it didn't survive the line. He can put it in the freezer."

I thought about this, and then replied "I guess I've done stupider things."

For example, say things like stupider.

So that's exactly what I did. As we got to the front of the line I flipped my book open to the first page, handed it to the woman who would give it to Bobby, walked up to him and spent the 10 seconds it took him to scrawl his name rambling about the chocolate.

"Oh," he said. "OK. Thanks."

Despite the limited exchange, I'd say Bobby Flay seems like a nice guy, contrary to some other rumors out there. During his morning show interview and demo he seemed genuinely fun and somewhat modest. It must be tiring - and crappy to some extent - to spend your day getting ushered all around a state fair, have to do a cooking demo in the blazing sun and then have to sign 400 people's cookbooks.

I did manage to get a quick picture before being shooed away by fair security. I forgot to invite him to the National Chicken Wing Festival. There was no time to tell him how much I love his chicken cacciatore.

But that's ok. The goal was to get my cookbook signed and see the demo. Besides, that gives me a reason to go to one of his restaurants. Maybe he'll be there. I can bring him better chocolate.