Wonderful hubby brought a Christmas tree home.  White lights are perfect.  Cat has been nearby, on a box on top of a table, staring at the wall for about an hour.  Cat is odd.  Back to cute Christmas tree.  I told hubby (have I told you about him yet?  I have a big crush on him) to get anything he wanted that he could put in the yard when the ground thaws (not that it is frozen yet, thank goodness, that's why I live south of where I grew up in New England).  My little camera makes the light look large, they are really just the plain ol' little white lights.  my favorite.  If I knew how to use any kind of editing soft ware (and actually owned it), I probably would have taken the UPC code off of the thing the tree is in.  I was too dazzled by the lights. and I have no such software.  Will let you know when I get it and my pics are being retouched like a Vogue cover.

Til tomorrow, friends!

Home Cooking Attempt: Moroccan Dish #1 With Spices Carried Home (by Mom) From Marakesh

Minus mom catching pneumonia in Morocco, it was an incredible trip and I LOVED the food.  I even lost five pounds.  (I’m sure they’re back, I’m just pretending we don’t have a scale, which is difficult when my husband has been in high manorexia mode leading up to his big 4-0 and announces his weight multiple times a day, like I care, my big fat crush on him means he’s all dreamy to me, all the time.  Pathetic and true and he thinks I’m nuts.).  Took my first baby step into Moroccan cooking last night!  Shall we?

Spices brought back from Morocco, now hidden in this magic tin so the aromas don't overwhelm our little house and make it smell like a very large food stall in the middle of Marakesh.   Lemon Curry, Cumin, Mix of Four spices (for fish or poultry), Ras el Hanout (35 spices) and saffron!  (that will be nice friend Mary’s Christmas present ... it’s ok, she already knows).

I looked up a few recipes online and consulted the Moroccan cookbook (for Brits) I brought home (I have to flip quickly to avoid ingredient lists that make me queasy – like hoof and spleen) and decided to throw together my own.(With Chicken! None of that scary stuff)

Sliced carrots the way they served them in Morocco.  Boiled for 8 minutes in 6 cups of water in favorite pot. Perfect!

Removed carrots + added organic to the carrot water some low sodium chicken broth mix to the carrot water.

Promptly forgot about pot as I was posing the carrots, parsley and spices for their glamour shots. (See:  Sorry fave pot!  Love you!)

(Sorry fave pot!  Love you!)

The parsley is (oddly) still going strong in the garden. Sent hubby out to grab some [instructions: "Honey, it looks like this, (I hold up leftovers from brunch that included a sprig of parsley), and is in the garden, closest to the dead tomato plants we haven’t pulled up yet].  Look at what a great job he did!

Swirl of olive oil in large pan, chopped one giant onion and threw in some stragglers from Thanksgiving.  Mmmm, gorgeous. Pinch of salt and pepper. Then the spices:  heaping teaspoon each:  paprika, cumin and ras el hanout. 

Then some (about 1 c) broth to onions and spices

 In goes the 2+ lbs chicken breast.  Cover, cook on low for 25 min, turning chicken once.

Chicken all cooked, threw carrots back in, and a few tablespoons of the parsley all chopped up and stirred it all in.

Delish!  I ate over brown rice, Mr. Manorexia fretted about the sugars in the onion and carrot, so he ate chicken and the juices and loved it.  

Cat stared at his (mostly full) bowl for 45 min waiting for the Moroccan chicken to appear.  It did not. Even after he reached out to touch the bowl just to double check.

Til the morrow, friends!

Going Places?

Called Mom in the hospital.  She sounds great.  She said, excitedly, “You know how I get up and after five minutes I’m so exhausted that I have to sleep for two hours?”  Yes.  “Well I feel great and I am up and about and have been for a while now!”  If she was home, this means:  I got up (at normal 5 AM), cleaned the house, emailed, Facebooked, handled paperwork, went to gym for step aerobics and lifting, worked on the website or posters or donations for the Christopher Columbus Park and worked in its rose garden. And cooked a chicken.

At the moment, though, she’s in the hospital.  With mystery pneumonia.

So exactly what does up and about mean when you have a tube in your lung attached TO A WALL? 

Just asking.

She said, “Well, I can’t go very far.”  Like the bed?  “Yes, and a chair.”

Thank you JudyGroupers and everyone for their well wishes and prayers!

Go Mom! Feeling better.  Phew.  Maybe home by Tuesday.

Of Cooking and CAT Scans: Thanksgiving 2010

My mom (that's her beautiful self to the left, with baby tree-climbing Moroccan goat) was supposed to come to DC to visit for Thanksgiving.  A few days after she returned to Boston from our girl bonding trip all over Morocco, she came down with pneumonia (that's her in Morocco, a day pre-pneumonia).  More on that elsewhere (and the goat in the tree behind Mom.  For real.  Not. A. Joke).  Our wonderful friends Mary and Stilly invited us to Thanksgiving at their house, very close to ours.  Hubby and I met on Thanksgiving Day and got engaged 15 days later so we consider it our true anniversary.  This year makes five years (eeee so cool!!).  Mom was supposed to celebrate with us.

Instead, the day before, she went to see her doctor at Mass General who promptly admitted her. My reaction to this is not to cry or scream or freak, rather, I felt overwhelmed with exhaustion and literally wanted to curl up in a ball and go to sleep on the floor of my office.  Ditto next day, Thanksgiving, 10:30 AM when 1.  I hear how scared she is, 2. CAT scan showed fluid around lung and heart and a problem with her liver.  This time I freaked.  Called hubby on golf course.  I thought.

Hubby is Jr. 

I called Sr. By mistake.

Who I later found out thought his oldest son had been in some horrible accident.  Smart man, handed phone to wife, my glorious mother in law.  She is not just an R.N. The woman runs hospital E.R.s.  Rides in choppers.  Medical and managerial badass.  Talked me off ledge.  Didn’t even bother hubby on golf course.  Set about to chopping.  Very therapeutic.  Before that, I went through over my entire iTunes library and every some I clicked on every song that made me smile AND made me feel good, like I wanted to dance.  If I could.  Even though I can’t. (Listening now, loooove it).

Played music, made Mom’s dressing with my tweaks, and her sauerkraut, also tweaked for hubby.  I eat the former, but not the latter. 

Yup, that’s the Thanksgiving story.  Finally spoke with Mom and her attending physician (so very Grey’s), who explained how they were ruling out all sorts of things (bad things, this is where I started rooting hard for infection, any infection, bacterial or viral; I’ll take it over lupus or rheumatism). 

Happy Thanksgiving!! (That's a shot I took of Mom in Morocco a few weeks ago.  Did I mention she's 71?  Just wanted to see if you read to the end, kidding!! But I bet you're going to check out that close up pic at the top ... I would.)