I wanted to share this from a fellow blogger. She is a friend of a facebook friend. She lives in Israel. I think her thoughts say it all. Sometimes we don't really see the whole story. Check it out. God bless.
http://what-kt-did.blogspot.com/
D.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Phillis Wheatley
Tonight I read a few paragraphs on the poet Phillis Wheatley. I had read her poetry before and I thoroughly enjoyed it but I never pursued any in depth study. Tonight I read about her story.
From Poets.org:
"Phillis Wheatley was the first black poet in America to publish a book. She was born around 1753 in West Africa and brought to New England in 1761, where John Wheatley of Boston purchased her as a gift for his wife. Although they brought her into the household as a slave, the Wheatleys took a great interest in Phillis's education. Many biographers have pointed to her precocity; Wheatley learned to read and write English by the age of nine, and she became familiar with Latin, Greek, the Bible, and selected classics at an early age. She began writing poetry at thirteen, modeling her work on the English poets of the time, particularly John Milton, Thomas Gray, and Alexander Pope."
She was 8 years old when brought to America and "purchased as a gift for his wife". I pray that we have come far. I understand that America is the only nation on the face of the earth to have fought a war about slavery. Hundreds of thousands of people died so that we could abolish this curse.
I find it odd that slavery still exists in this world. It is a shame. Have we humans not learned anything?
From Poets.org:
"Phillis Wheatley was the first black poet in America to publish a book. She was born around 1753 in West Africa and brought to New England in 1761, where John Wheatley of Boston purchased her as a gift for his wife. Although they brought her into the household as a slave, the Wheatleys took a great interest in Phillis's education. Many biographers have pointed to her precocity; Wheatley learned to read and write English by the age of nine, and she became familiar with Latin, Greek, the Bible, and selected classics at an early age. She began writing poetry at thirteen, modeling her work on the English poets of the time, particularly John Milton, Thomas Gray, and Alexander Pope."
She was 8 years old when brought to America and "purchased as a gift for his wife". I pray that we have come far. I understand that America is the only nation on the face of the earth to have fought a war about slavery. Hundreds of thousands of people died so that we could abolish this curse.
I find it odd that slavery still exists in this world. It is a shame. Have we humans not learned anything?
Thursday, April 15, 2010
other ideas
We have this house. It needs work. I still have yet to paint the family room, or trim the door, or install the floor boards. There are always more pressing things to be done. I would rather spend time with my wife, share moments with her than show my incompetence with a hammer. I would rather spend time with my family than make mistakes at handyman projects around the house.
The yard is full of weeds. The garden has not been planted. The trash in the yard not carried to the dump. I am not a very good carpenter, gardener, painter or handyman. I am lazy.
And yet, the heater works, the roof doesn't leak and the doors remain locked. My family is safe, well fed and, I hope, happy.
There are more important things in life than a green lawn or a showcased house. I cherish the quality time I can spend with my family.
Or maybe it is just a lazy man's rationalizations.
D.
The yard is full of weeds. The garden has not been planted. The trash in the yard not carried to the dump. I am not a very good carpenter, gardener, painter or handyman. I am lazy.
And yet, the heater works, the roof doesn't leak and the doors remain locked. My family is safe, well fed and, I hope, happy.
There are more important things in life than a green lawn or a showcased house. I cherish the quality time I can spend with my family.
Or maybe it is just a lazy man's rationalizations.
D.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Cell Phone in traffic.
Tonight I decided to celebrate the "almost end of Spring Break" with my daughter by taking the family out to dinner. My wife and I chose a nice seafood restaurant downtown that we had been wanting to take the kids. This meant driving the southern California freeways at rush hour. Our town is such that we would, luckily, be driving against traffic.
We left our house for the 20 minute drive to the restaurant. On the way there we were on the freeway. My kids created a new game. Catch the Cell Phoners and Texters. On the way to the restaurant, 15 minutes they spotted three individuals on their cell phones. I believe one was texting. This in a state where using a cell phone while driving is a moving violation. We were shocked.
On the way home, it was dark. We were on the freeway driving home and spotted 11 different drivers using cell phones. It is interesing. I guess they were all late for dinner.
Be careful out there.
D.
We left our house for the 20 minute drive to the restaurant. On the way there we were on the freeway. My kids created a new game. Catch the Cell Phoners and Texters. On the way to the restaurant, 15 minutes they spotted three individuals on their cell phones. I believe one was texting. This in a state where using a cell phone while driving is a moving violation. We were shocked.
On the way home, it was dark. We were on the freeway driving home and spotted 11 different drivers using cell phones. It is interesing. I guess they were all late for dinner.
Be careful out there.
D.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Earthquake, 7.2 Calexico, Mexico
We felt this earthquake this afternoon. I was just coming in from outside on the back patio. Most of my entire side yard is covered in concrete. My wife poked her head out the kitchen door and asked if I felt that. I said 'What?' She said 'earthquake'. I was in the doorway. I held on to the door jamb and I could fell the earth move. It lasted for a good 20 - 30 seconds. I have lived in California for the last thirty years and this was the most I have felt it shake. Pretty incredible.
No damage here at our house. Just kind of shaken up. I hope everyone is ok. I dare say there will be some damage in Calexico (about 110 miles south, southwest of here). I wish them well.
D.
Update: Upgraded to 7.2 mag. after a seismologist looked at the data. Two people dead in Mexico.
As an aside, people have commented on the differences of the death tolls between Haiti and this latest earthquake in Northern Mexico. Differences are in the construction of buildings, mostly because of the strength of concrete and its ability to withstand hurricanes. I think it is mostly a structural issue and not a cultural one.
No damage here at our house. Just kind of shaken up. I hope everyone is ok. I dare say there will be some damage in Calexico (about 110 miles south, southwest of here). I wish them well.
D.
Update: Upgraded to 7.2 mag. after a seismologist looked at the data. Two people dead in Mexico.
As an aside, people have commented on the differences of the death tolls between Haiti and this latest earthquake in Northern Mexico. Differences are in the construction of buildings, mostly because of the strength of concrete and its ability to withstand hurricanes. I think it is mostly a structural issue and not a cultural one.
Easter, 1993
To my daughter, 3 years old at the time. How much fun we had.
Orange and blue and yellow and red.
"make some green," you said.
Said I to you,
"I'll make them blue
and yellow, orange and red."
But you persist,
"Make some green," again you said.
"We have eggs of red and yellow,
eggs of orange and blue."
And you went on to name
the colors as you know 'em.
But I'll not make eggs of green
like a childhood poem.
"But," you said with glee,
"I like green."
But green eggs are not for me.
So now you sit
and make your face to pout.
And your mother says to me
"Make some green."
And I was much put out.
by David R. Normand
Author's Comments:
"We were having fun. I would have made green eggs for her anyway. It was our favorite book."
Orange and blue and yellow and red.
"make some green," you said.
Said I to you,
"I'll make them blue
and yellow, orange and red."
But you persist,
"Make some green," again you said.
"We have eggs of red and yellow,
eggs of orange and blue."
And you went on to name
the colors as you know 'em.
But I'll not make eggs of green
like a childhood poem.
"But," you said with glee,
"I like green."
But green eggs are not for me.
So now you sit
and make your face to pout.
And your mother says to me
"Make some green."
And I was much put out.
by David R. Normand
Author's Comments:
"We were having fun. I would have made green eggs for her anyway. It was our favorite book."
Friday, March 26, 2010
"Who Do You Think You Are?"
Tonight my wife and I watched on television that new show about genealogy, "Who Do You Think You Are?". I was fascinated by the way this episode turned out for reasons that I will discuss later. Tonight's episode followed Matthew Broderick's search for his maternal great-great-great-(great?) grandfather. I have seen three of these shows and each has touched me quite unexpectedly.
The first show that we saw dealt with Sarah Jessica Parker. It was interesting. She followed her great grandfather to the gold fields of California. She traced his life to an area near Placerville, California and at one point was travelling up "Pleasant Valley Road". My brothers and sisters will note that this is the same road on which we lived for two years in the 60's. (My youngest sister was born in Placerville.) I think I am destined to watch the show. These shows are hitting close to home.
I mean, I used to live in Placerville, and Sarah Jessica Parker drove right by my old house. And for tonight's search, Matthew Broderick found his great-great-great-grandfather's grave and I have always been fascinated by cemeteries. I should explain that a bit further.
During the course of my spiritual, secondary and collegial education I developed an interest in life stories, the dash, so to speak. (Birth-death, where the dash means the entire list of accomplishments of a persons life.) I was fascinated how a cemetery can house a persons body and list there historical record - every one has a story. Everyone has a story that really can't be told on a headstone. I discovered this and set on a journey to make my "dash" mean something.
Part of that quest is the establishment of this blog two and a half years ago. Part of that quest is my poetry and my writing; my beautiful wife and two beautiful children; my life and my work. I am constantly searching for meaning in my life. It is an ongoing journey.
I wish you luck and good fortune in your quests.
D.
The first show that we saw dealt with Sarah Jessica Parker. It was interesting. She followed her great grandfather to the gold fields of California. She traced his life to an area near Placerville, California and at one point was travelling up "Pleasant Valley Road". My brothers and sisters will note that this is the same road on which we lived for two years in the 60's. (My youngest sister was born in Placerville.) I think I am destined to watch the show. These shows are hitting close to home.
I mean, I used to live in Placerville, and Sarah Jessica Parker drove right by my old house. And for tonight's search, Matthew Broderick found his great-great-great-grandfather's grave and I have always been fascinated by cemeteries. I should explain that a bit further.
During the course of my spiritual, secondary and collegial education I developed an interest in life stories, the dash, so to speak. (Birth-death, where the dash means the entire list of accomplishments of a persons life.) I was fascinated how a cemetery can house a persons body and list there historical record - every one has a story. Everyone has a story that really can't be told on a headstone. I discovered this and set on a journey to make my "dash" mean something.
Part of that quest is the establishment of this blog two and a half years ago. Part of that quest is my poetry and my writing; my beautiful wife and two beautiful children; my life and my work. I am constantly searching for meaning in my life. It is an ongoing journey.
I wish you luck and good fortune in your quests.
D.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Our punny language.
We have a punny language. English. Funny how you drive on a parkway and park on a driveway? I mentioned this to my son and he said, "yeah, and your nose runs, but your feet smell."
Go ahead, give me some more.
D.
Go ahead, give me some more.
D.
Monday, February 22, 2010
On Work
I picked up Philip Levine's book of poems "What Work Is" this evening. I was intending to read a bit before I went to bed. I opened the book. Title page where he signed it right under his name. I met him at the Santa Barbara Poet's Workshop, in 2008(?). I started to read his words, just talking about work. I have to work tomorrow. And I am getting tired.
I set the book aside. I do that a lot. I have other things to do. Not enough time. I have to work tomorrow. It is what I do. Since I was 12 and mowing lawns for three bucks a lawn. Mowing lawns in the New Orleans August humidity, sweating till soaked. Bought my first lawn mower 'cause my dad got tired of me borrowing his. I think I gave it to my brother when I turned 14. By that age I was working as a soda jerk and ice cream scooper. From fire to ice. (Isn't that a poem by Frost, or Sandburg... Fire and Ice...gotta be Frost.) Nevermind, I digress. Work. Yes.
Been doing it since I was twelve. Of course not all the time, but still, had somewhere to go, something to do. Since I was twelve. Not all the time. I took four years off for college. My dad said that was a full-time job, going to school. Somewhere to go, something to do. Thirty nine years now. Wow.
I had a part-time job through high school. A buck an hour. Spending money. Got me out of the heat. When I graduated high school I needed money for college. I started working in restaurants. A buck eighty-five to start. Pretty cool. Big time. Then they raised the minimum wage to two and a quarter. Wow.
I fell in love with the restaurants. I was a quiet kid in school, not very good at studying. But the restaurants I really felt like I belonged. Everyone was so friendly and they were great characters. I loved it. I spent the next fourteen years of my life working in Restaurants. I counted them once. Over twenty. I shall count them again. No, it just seemed like there were a lot. Only thirteen. Hard to believe. I thought there were more. Two major hotels accounted for most of the restaurants. I enjoyed it. I hated it. The work was fulfilling and educational, but also stressful and not very lucrative financially. I met a lot of people and more than a few good friends. Restaurants taught me to love food. Restaurants made me fat.
But work. I digress. It is what we do. Such an unnatural activity. It zaps your humanity, your spirit, your creativity. Some people say that work makes us creative. It gives us energy, character and strength. Perhaps, but for a creative mind, it stifles. But then again, if not for work, where would we go each day? What would we do? True. So, on we go. Back to work. I must sleep, because tomorrow...I work.
D.
I set the book aside. I do that a lot. I have other things to do. Not enough time. I have to work tomorrow. It is what I do. Since I was 12 and mowing lawns for three bucks a lawn. Mowing lawns in the New Orleans August humidity, sweating till soaked. Bought my first lawn mower 'cause my dad got tired of me borrowing his. I think I gave it to my brother when I turned 14. By that age I was working as a soda jerk and ice cream scooper. From fire to ice. (Isn't that a poem by Frost, or Sandburg... Fire and Ice...gotta be Frost.) Nevermind, I digress. Work. Yes.
Been doing it since I was twelve. Of course not all the time, but still, had somewhere to go, something to do. Since I was twelve. Not all the time. I took four years off for college. My dad said that was a full-time job, going to school. Somewhere to go, something to do. Thirty nine years now. Wow.
I had a part-time job through high school. A buck an hour. Spending money. Got me out of the heat. When I graduated high school I needed money for college. I started working in restaurants. A buck eighty-five to start. Pretty cool. Big time. Then they raised the minimum wage to two and a quarter. Wow.
I fell in love with the restaurants. I was a quiet kid in school, not very good at studying. But the restaurants I really felt like I belonged. Everyone was so friendly and they were great characters. I loved it. I spent the next fourteen years of my life working in Restaurants. I counted them once. Over twenty. I shall count them again. No, it just seemed like there were a lot. Only thirteen. Hard to believe. I thought there were more. Two major hotels accounted for most of the restaurants. I enjoyed it. I hated it. The work was fulfilling and educational, but also stressful and not very lucrative financially. I met a lot of people and more than a few good friends. Restaurants taught me to love food. Restaurants made me fat.
But work. I digress. It is what we do. Such an unnatural activity. It zaps your humanity, your spirit, your creativity. Some people say that work makes us creative. It gives us energy, character and strength. Perhaps, but for a creative mind, it stifles. But then again, if not for work, where would we go each day? What would we do? True. So, on we go. Back to work. I must sleep, because tomorrow...I work.
D.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
A Poet's Observation
A white haired, seasoned citizen rests on her walker outside the neighborhood Denny’s restaurant, nestled in the corner of our local strip mall. She says goodbye to her friends after brunch and slowly begins her walk across the parking lot, picking up her walker for each step moving only inches at a time, to finally reach her oversized, aged car. She takes her time. Nothing waits for her at home.
D. Normand, C. 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Captain Phil Harris
My wife and I are deeply saddened this week by the passing Captain Phil Harris of the Cornelia Marie fishing vessel of Discovery Channel's "the Deadliest Catch". We enjoy watching the show very much and Capt. Phil was a major part of that enjoyment. He will be greatly missed.
We want to extend our condolences and prayers to Capt. Phil and his family.
http://www.corneliamarie.com/
D.
We want to extend our condolences and prayers to Capt. Phil and his family.
http://www.corneliamarie.com/
D.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Terrorists Trials
I was listening to the news today about the upcoming (or planned) trials for the terrorists being held on Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. A lot of people are now saying that they don't want the trials held in New York City. They are talking about moving them to some small town in New York State. But that still leaves the danger of another terrorist attack.
Also, President Obama has been saying that he wants to close the prison on Guantanamo Bay. Well, I have a solution that will stimulate the economy and help to stabilize the United States of America.
Years ago the Navy stopped bombing the island of Vieques, in the US territory of Puerto Rico. The island is now mostly a wildlife refuge. Why can't the Navy take that island, build a prison there (stimulate the local construction economy) and hold the trials there, on Puerto Rico. You would not have to transport the prisoners very far and the cost of the trials would be lowered. Think of how many lawyers would jump at the chance to go to the Carribean to work for a few months. This would also keep the dangerous prisoners off of the American mainland.
Also, that would leave Guantanamo Bay empty. The Navy could then use those facilities for target practice which could also serve to show the Cubans that we are really just next door.
Also, President Obama has been saying that he wants to close the prison on Guantanamo Bay. Well, I have a solution that will stimulate the economy and help to stabilize the United States of America.
Years ago the Navy stopped bombing the island of Vieques, in the US territory of Puerto Rico. The island is now mostly a wildlife refuge. Why can't the Navy take that island, build a prison there (stimulate the local construction economy) and hold the trials there, on Puerto Rico. You would not have to transport the prisoners very far and the cost of the trials would be lowered. Think of how many lawyers would jump at the chance to go to the Carribean to work for a few months. This would also keep the dangerous prisoners off of the American mainland.
Also, that would leave Guantanamo Bay empty. The Navy could then use those facilities for target practice which could also serve to show the Cubans that we are really just next door.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Age (a re-post from June 10, 2009: for maintenance reasons)
As we get along in years, as we pass the time, turn the corner, cross the bridge, climb the hill to middle age, we notice things that we may not have noticed in the past. We hear things that affect us differently than other things might have. We can become more sensitive to the world around us. We understand more. We appreciate things more. And we also lament the passing of time. We marvel that there are more years behind us than ahead of us. We have reached that age.
Tonight my wife and I were sitting down to watch our beloved baseball team play the Los Angeles Dodgers. You may know that the Dodgers moved west to California in the year of my birth, 1958. They just packed up and moved. The city of Los Angeles promised them a stadium. I remember someone asking one of the owners if he ever regretted the move. He said, "let's see, we own the stadium, we own the land, we own the concessions, we own the parking. No, I don't regret it." With a deal like that, what's not to love.
The Dodgers built the stadium shortly after moving out to California and it opened in 1962. 1962 was a great year for me and I didn't even know it. My wife was born that year. But enough history.
We were watching our Padres and the announcers made some comments about the Dodger Stadium being built in 1962. And now because of all the new ballparks built in the recent years, Dodger Stadium is now the third oldest major league ballpark in the country. My wife lamented that she didn't want to hear about anything being built in 1962 as being the third oldest anything. What could I say? I just had to let it go.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Movie Night on New Year's Day
It has long been a tradition in our family that New Years Day night, after getting up early, watching the Rose Parade and taking down the Christmas decorations, that my wife and I repair to our easy chairs and become unfortunate couch potatoes. Tonight was a night for tradition. She had gone out to rent the latest DVD version of some action movie franchise and we sat down to a dinner of black eye peas and beer-boiled bratwursts. Our children had decided to join us in our family movie night. The action movie was great.
But my college student daughter had accompanied my wife to the video store. They came back with the rental, and a stack of previously viewed discounted DVD's. One of those little gems we were destined to watch after finishing the action movie. I was looking for something a little lighthearted.
My daughter, a child psychology student, had a movie on her Christmas list. Santa must have skipped that, or not had enough room in his bag. So, at the video store this evening she found the neglected movie. I think we purchased it for her because it ended up in our stack.
And that is how we happened across a wonderfully fascinating little movie called "Phoebe in Wonderland", starring Felicity Huffman, Patricia Clarkson, Elle Fanning, Bill Pullman and Campbell Scott. This awesome movie has the innocent title disguising a beautifully intelligent, deep movie and has some incredible acting. I am thankful to have found this gem. I highly recommend this movie to anyone who has kids.
I found myself with a lot of different emotions while (and after) watching this. From a parent's standpoint I could certainly understand the feelings. The parents (Huffman and Pullman) scenes were great scenes to watch. Elle Fanning was amazing. The depth of character portrayed was fascinating to watch. Clarkson was great.
I came away with many different thoughts. Can a child of 9 or 10 have that kind of lucidity? Certainly that kind of intelligence and self-awareness could be recognized. Also, can we find teachers that use the Socratic method and actually teach our children to think?
As a parent, that is all I ask. I try to teach my children responsibility, honor, and a sense of community. I want them to know that they belong and are a part of the greater good. I am learning that the education of a soul goes very deep.
But my college student daughter had accompanied my wife to the video store. They came back with the rental, and a stack of previously viewed discounted DVD's. One of those little gems we were destined to watch after finishing the action movie. I was looking for something a little lighthearted.
My daughter, a child psychology student, had a movie on her Christmas list. Santa must have skipped that, or not had enough room in his bag. So, at the video store this evening she found the neglected movie. I think we purchased it for her because it ended up in our stack.
And that is how we happened across a wonderfully fascinating little movie called "Phoebe in Wonderland", starring Felicity Huffman, Patricia Clarkson, Elle Fanning, Bill Pullman and Campbell Scott. This awesome movie has the innocent title disguising a beautifully intelligent, deep movie and has some incredible acting. I am thankful to have found this gem. I highly recommend this movie to anyone who has kids.
I found myself with a lot of different emotions while (and after) watching this. From a parent's standpoint I could certainly understand the feelings. The parents (Huffman and Pullman) scenes were great scenes to watch. Elle Fanning was amazing. The depth of character portrayed was fascinating to watch. Clarkson was great.
I came away with many different thoughts. Can a child of 9 or 10 have that kind of lucidity? Certainly that kind of intelligence and self-awareness could be recognized. Also, can we find teachers that use the Socratic method and actually teach our children to think?
As a parent, that is all I ask. I try to teach my children responsibility, honor, and a sense of community. I want them to know that they belong and are a part of the greater good. I am learning that the education of a soul goes very deep.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Irish Cooking (and Drinking).
I apologize for not posting anything in the past three weeks. I have a lot going on and I have been busy and away from any ponderous thoughts or musings. But the other night I had an experience that I thought I would share. Its roots were from the Thanksgiving weekend of my previous post. That weekend I made the plans to attend the function that I finally arrived on my calendar.
On the Sunday after Thanksgiving I decided to take the family out to the mall for lunch. My daughter was in town for the holiday and it is always nice to share a meal where we can just sit and talk and not worry about the preparation and dishes. We had no special design or plan on where to eat so we just kind of winged it. We had just happened to park near an Irish restaurant. We had eaten at the restaurant before there before. We liked it.
I was kind of reluctant to eat there this day because it was Sunday and I would miss part of the football game. Oh well, majority rules. We stepped inside. The hostess sat us and gave us a printed announcement that the chef of the restaurant is now offering cooking classes once a month. Those of you who follow this blog regularly know that I used to be a chef. I had some experience with different cuisines. But I had never really studied or even knew much about Irish cuisine. This chef was offering instruction on how to cook Irish food. I signed up.
The menu for the class would start with a green salad with apples and candied walnuts topped with Irish cheddar cheese and a malted vinaigrette. For the main course he was serving (and teaching) the Irish favorite, a Boxty, the Irish potato pancake, with chicken and a white wine buerre blanc (white butter sauce). The entire evening would be topped off with a Guinness ice cream. I jumped at the chance to go and learn something about a cuisine about which I am unfamiliar.
I arrived at the appointed time and place and was surprised to see the room set with about 25 settings. Each setting was set with a placemat with four little plastic cups on it. Each cup had about an ounce, ounce and a half of Jameson's Irish Whiskey. The Jameson folks had arranged a whiskey tasting for the group. Today was our lucky day.
Given the go ahead we first tasted the standard Jameson product. Tasted great, taunted and warmed the throat on the way down. Next up was the twelve year old whiskey. Man, that was smooth. Nice aroma, and very smooth on the throat. I could have stopped right there. But there were two more. We also tried the Jameson Gold and the eighteen year old. These were both very smooth tasting. I like them both. The gold is my favorite. I am putting it on my Christmas list.
After four to five ounces of wonderful Irish whiskey I was getting kind of buzzed. I was loaded. By this time the chef started cooking and I was involved. I was drinking a lot of water and hoping I sobered up by the time the class was finished. The instruction turned out great and the food was fantastic. I really enjoyed my time. It was quite the experience. I am going to go in after the holidays and sign up for the next session. I am hoping the Jameson lady comes back.
D.
On the Sunday after Thanksgiving I decided to take the family out to the mall for lunch. My daughter was in town for the holiday and it is always nice to share a meal where we can just sit and talk and not worry about the preparation and dishes. We had no special design or plan on where to eat so we just kind of winged it. We had just happened to park near an Irish restaurant. We had eaten at the restaurant before there before. We liked it.
I was kind of reluctant to eat there this day because it was Sunday and I would miss part of the football game. Oh well, majority rules. We stepped inside. The hostess sat us and gave us a printed announcement that the chef of the restaurant is now offering cooking classes once a month. Those of you who follow this blog regularly know that I used to be a chef. I had some experience with different cuisines. But I had never really studied or even knew much about Irish cuisine. This chef was offering instruction on how to cook Irish food. I signed up.
The menu for the class would start with a green salad with apples and candied walnuts topped with Irish cheddar cheese and a malted vinaigrette. For the main course he was serving (and teaching) the Irish favorite, a Boxty, the Irish potato pancake, with chicken and a white wine buerre blanc (white butter sauce). The entire evening would be topped off with a Guinness ice cream. I jumped at the chance to go and learn something about a cuisine about which I am unfamiliar.
I arrived at the appointed time and place and was surprised to see the room set with about 25 settings. Each setting was set with a placemat with four little plastic cups on it. Each cup had about an ounce, ounce and a half of Jameson's Irish Whiskey. The Jameson folks had arranged a whiskey tasting for the group. Today was our lucky day.
Given the go ahead we first tasted the standard Jameson product. Tasted great, taunted and warmed the throat on the way down. Next up was the twelve year old whiskey. Man, that was smooth. Nice aroma, and very smooth on the throat. I could have stopped right there. But there were two more. We also tried the Jameson Gold and the eighteen year old. These were both very smooth tasting. I like them both. The gold is my favorite. I am putting it on my Christmas list.
After four to five ounces of wonderful Irish whiskey I was getting kind of buzzed. I was loaded. By this time the chef started cooking and I was involved. I was drinking a lot of water and hoping I sobered up by the time the class was finished. The instruction turned out great and the food was fantastic. I really enjoyed my time. It was quite the experience. I am going to go in after the holidays and sign up for the next session. I am hoping the Jameson lady comes back.
D.
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