Thick and Delicious Baked Macaroni & Cheese

Just in time for Thanksgiving – a MUST HAVE dish. For years, I have searched high and low for the perfect custard-like Macaroni and Cheese recipe to rival the best I’ve had at southern-style, soul food restaurants like Sylvia’s of Harlem and Justin’s in New York City and Atlanta. If you also remember the now-closed Maroon’s that used to be in Chelsea (NYC), then you know what I’m talking about.

Until today, I have come up empty-handed in my pursuits. Macaroni and Cheese was that one dish that this Carolina girl’s family never perfected.

How sweet the smell and taste of success! After sifting through numerous recipes on the net, and combining a tablespoon of this and a dash of that, I’ve just made the BEST Macaroni and Cheese I’ve ever tasted anywhere. It’s rich, thick and wonderfully cheesy.

Enough talk.  Let me get you on your way to making your own!

Ingredients (serves 4-5):

• 1 lb box of uncooked macaroni
• Pot of Boiling Water
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 8 oz block Kraft monterrey jack cheese, grated or thinly sliced
• 8 oz block Kraft sharp cheddar cheese, grated or thinly sliced
• 12 oz can evaporated milk
• 1 egg
• 4 tablespoons butter
• 2 tablespoons flour
• 1 tablespoon dry mustard

Directions:

• Preheat the oven to 350F.
• Add the 2 tablespoons olive oil to the pot of boiling water, immediately followed by the uncooked macaroni. Cook the macaroni about 7 minutes until it is al dente, not overcooked or mushy.
• Place a small saucepan on low heat and add the full can of evaporated milk until it’s very warm but not boiling.
• Add the butter and stir until it melts.
• Stir in the flour and dry mustard as well.
• Remove the milk mixture from the heat and add both blocks of grated or thinly sliced cheese*.

*You can either grate the cheese beforehand or use a sharp paring knife and sliver it into long, thin slices; either way, it will melt quickly. I prefer the latter method using the knife because it’s fastest for me.

• Return the milk and cheese mixture back to the low heat and stir constantly until the cheese completely melts.
• By now, you should have a textured, frothy mix of milk and cheese.
• In a separate cup, whisk the egg.
• Stir the egg into the milk and cheese mixture.
• Immediately layer ½ the cooked macaroni into a lightly greased, oven-safe glass or metal casserole dish.
• Pour ½ the milk and cheese mixture onto the layer. Add the remaining macaroni and repeat, adding all of the remaining milk and cheese mixture.
• Cover the dish and place in the oven on the medium rack. Bake for approximately 30 minutes.
• Remove from oven; remove top carefully as the macaroni and cheese will be hot and steamy.

That’s it – Absolutely wonderful!

- Adrienne C Barr

Whether you can’t cook or don’t want to cook if you are looking for a place to eat in Harlem on Thanksgiving.  The following restaurants will be open.

Melba’s

300 West 114th Street

212-284-7777

On the menu: Grilled Jerk Shrimp, Spinach & Cheese Empanadas, Po’Boy Sandwiches, BBQ Turkey Meatloaf

 __________________

Amy Ruth’s

113 West 116th Street

212-280-8779

On the Menu: Prefix Meal for Thanksgiving, in additon to the regular authentic southern cuisine menu items

 _________________

Billie’s Black

271 West 119th Street

212-280-2248

On the Menu: Upscale Gourmet Soul food

  _________________

 Gospel Uptown

2110 Frederick Douglass Blvd.

212. 280. 2110

   _________________

The River Room

Riverbank State Park  @145th Street

212-491-1500

*call to confirm that reservations are available.

{Originally published 11/21/2006}

For more info about Harlem visit uptown flavor at: http://uptownflavor.com/

Sup everyone!

The following photojournal was taken by me in Samara and Montezuma. Click on the images for a larger view.

The Pacific Coast is a wild and beautiful place. The sun blazes from 5 to 18:00 and the tide is either really close or very far away. Palm trees and bushes line the shore front. No building is allowed to be above two storeys. A single hotel smudges the natural beauty of the vista. Humidity approaches 80% during the day and drops to somewhere near 60% in the evening. Around the beach, the jungles grow high and deep.

Tans are requisite accessories. Sunburn is a rite of passage for the paler tribes of the world – the Celts, Anglo-Saxons and Germanic peoples being especially prone. That’s right, this place is full of Yanks, Brits and Germans (incl. Swiss), adding competition to the tanning/burning. Thankfully, I escaped much torment with a combination of prudence and sun cream. Factor 15 served adequately while reapplication was only needed after sufficient intervals in the sun. I did redden up a bit while surfing, only for it to return to normal later. I did not expect my paltry German to be put into use here, but it has served me… adequately.

…Did I just mention the surfing? Oh, yes, there was surfing. It was a beginner’s beach by most standards, the rocks about 2km from shore calming the more violent moods of the Pacific. Surfing is a great way to impress the shore-bound with ones style and physical prowess – important indicators of one’s personal strength. Unfortunately, I was a noob, so the opportunity to show off was replaced by the desire to simply not embarrass oneself too hideously.

On the less showy side, the showers gave us electric shocks, warm water is a luxury, sand in your pants is as bad as it sounds and the fact that we got robbed on Tuesday morning prove that no place is truly perfect. Thankfully, I didn’t lose enything in the robbery, only the American and Cypriot lost their cameras and some money, it could have been worse (I know that’s not really much consolation considering we were pretty damn unlucky to be robbed in the first place, but it’s better than: “yeah, we were very unlucky and a bit stupid, but at least we weren’t really unlucky and really stupid). The American wrote on the form the police gave her that her Cosmopolitan was also stolen, rationalising with “it might not sound important, but it is.”

If one ever gets thirsty and doesn’t wish to pay, one can simply twist a coconut from a tree, smack it against the trunk and drink its milky goodness.

…And In Paradise I Am.

The Pacific sunset over Samara beach allowed the night to slowly darken the sky and let the socialising begin proper.

The local mode of transportation in Samara was primarily this very Dutch bicycle. The perched beauties of the area were thankfully frequent.

Rocky sections often separate charming little coves from each other; the result of millions of years of erosion dominating this coastline made immediately obvious.

A local dog, eyes ruined from years of smoking ganja, sits in the tire tracks in Montezuma. Rastafarian culture extends even to the local wild dog population - probably the most important social movement in recent canine history.

Hammocks line most porches and balconies, adding much colour to the streets. This was one of many souvenir and clothing shops in Montezuma. If you need trinkets, Costa Rica has no shortage of trinkets.

Sweet early morning waves soon change from a pleasant paddle to surfing primes. The beach at Samara curved for several km all the way out to this island, but the bridge disappeared after low tide.

The locals' beach towels, like their clothing, is usually indistinguishable from the tourists' due to lack of vendor choices. It does have the advantage of minimising the clothing differences between the two, but as a result, the tourists in Lacoste and Polo stand out as potential victims of crime.

In Montezuma village, trinkets are the visible goods; ganja is the hidden - but not exactly subtle - primary income source for many street vendors. Considering a necklace sets one back $10-15 max, but a small bag of weed costs $20-30 (and a large amount for a few hundred). Combine that with a tolerant police force that has little reason to aggravate the locals, a quiet atmosphere, sweet reggae and you have a thriving underground economy.

The locals sit, drinking and smoking, on the shorefront rocks in the early evening.

A little rock stack overlooking the Pacific. Close to the sign designating a National Park and about twenty metres away from a turtle conservation project, these little stands sometimes serve as wards and guardians of protected areas.

A little shrine to tranquility garnished with local flora in Montezuma.

This picture speaks a thousand words. Half the fun of a good picture is interpretation, the rest is almost purely aesthetic.

You may have to forgive the pose, but I think I just earned at least ten year's worth of bragging rights.

The Iguana. Man, I still dream of riding a dinosaur, but these iguanas are just far too small to saddle up and tear through the jungle. Where's mad science when you need it? Off inventing cures for AIDS or something equally as useless? Bloody science.

Organicos restaurant offered all the best in local food, but vegan only. The rest of the group refused to eat once they found out it didn't do beer over dinner. I took some Germans there the next day instead. It was still beautiful without beer.

The ATV is the best way to get around in Montezuma. Only the village itself is paved or tarmacced, so a quadbike is almost required for those a short distance out.

A soccer game in the evening. Football and Coca Cola are seemingly infested in most parts of the world.

Montezuma's womenfolk sit on the sidelines as the men stand or play. There weren't many tourists around, so my camera was a dead giveaway.

The locals climbed the sides of waterfalls like we go up stairs. These daredevils did what few dared to do and jumped 25m waterfalls with ease.

This waterfall, coming in somewhere around 10m, was the somewhat easier, but no less entertaining jump. Once we,the gringos, jumped the waterfall and made it clear that survival was indeed possible, we got this group of people crowding round to share in the glory.

Just to clarify that last image.

Victory!

A few days ago, I unexpectedly went to two amazing and completely different restaurants in one day. This is quite a feat, considering I hardly ever go out to eat (although this is increasingly becoming a thing of the past).

For lunch that day, a coworker recommended that we all go to Ma Peche, a newly formed Vietnamese restaurant inside the Chambers Hotel in Midtown. The restaurant is currently situated in what appears to be a converted waiting area (I was told that they plan to move to a larger area on the first floor of the hotel very soon). We sat next to the elevators, and ate on a spruced up coffee table. It was really quite charming.

They currently have a limited menu, but offer nice $10 lunch options. I chose the Bun Du Riz, a well-portioned blend of fantastically seasoned pork ragout, rice noodles and saw leaf herb. It left me satisfied without stuffed — perfect for a lunch meal.

Later on that evening, I met up with some friends for dinner at Amy Ruth’s, a Harlem soul food restaurant. I couldn’t have been more excited, as I love soul food. I haven’t encountered many restaurants that offer it in New York, so it was a wonderful variation from the usual food palette.

The food was delicious but very heavy. I wasn’t able to finish my plate of smothered porkchops, macaroni and cheese, with collard greens (doesn’t that sound amazing?!).

Still, the food was great and inexpensive (my dish cost around $12). They offer a breakfast menu as well as dessert options to drool over, like rum cake and peach cobbler. This means that it is very important that I go back!

Both restaurants, actually, will require another visit

I spent most of the day in the kitchen cooking Sunday dinner for my family. It was one of the rare occasions we all get together, and it was my big debut as a master chef. I made all the classics: mac-n-cheese, collard greens, chicken and turkey wings. Black eyes peas. Cornbread. Rolls. Ox tails and okra. In short, I threw down, stuck my foot in it – every dish a culinary explosion, my blood and sweat instead of salt and pepper. And five hours later, we all sat down, said grace, and started to dig in. The table was silent  – always a good sign, because that means everybody is too busy moaning over my delicious food to be distracted with conversation.  I was feeling good, proud like, until I look over at my cousin, whose plate is full of salad.

I didn’t make a salad. Where’d she get salad?

I didn’t think too much of it, figuring she wanted to start with some roughage before she started shoveling down the good stuff. But by the time the rest of the family was ready for the peach cobbler, she still hadn’t touched any of the dinner I’d prepared. Not only that – but she was now in the refrigerator looking for lunchmeat so she could make a sandwich.

“What the hell?” I roared. “ All you ate so far is a salad – which we all know wasn’t on the table before you got here – and now you wanna make a sandwich? Is there something wrong with the food I made?”

“Oh honey, I don’t eat slave food,” she said curtly as she pulled out the mustard and cheese.

Now, anyone who knows me can image how pissed I was at that moment. Because not only was this heffa rummaging through my refrigerator without asking, but she had just insinuated that I, by cooking a loving meal for my family, had become The Oppressor. That the rest of us were bamboozled, led astray by our appetites and that only she held the wisdom to avoid the trappings of soul food.

Everyone else at the table rolled their eyes at her or shrugged their shoulders before they all broke into laughter. Their general attitude was hey, more for me – but I couldn’t let it roll off that easy. I took it personally that she referred to the cooking of our mothers and grandmothers – my cooking! – as slave food. I barely spoke to her for the rest of the night, and shot dirty looks in-between rounds of Scene-It. But even in my righteous indignation, I knew I wasn’t really angry with her.  I was angry because I knew she was right.

Soul food is an African American tradition. Food that feeds the soul of the family, as I was taught. Most of us grew up with our mothers and grandmothers in the kitchen, the smells of pork and lard filling the house on Sunday mornings, our stomachs rumbling and our tempers hot as we knew we wouldn’t be eating any of it until later on that day.  Cooking it now, most families try for healthier options – using turkey instead of pork – and view the dishes as a celebration of our ancestors, and the creative options they came up with to survive. The dinners and holidays where family from far and wide comes together, there is no question of what the meal will be.  I suppose this is true of any ethnic family – Indian, Ethiopian, etc – that when it comes time for parties, you know what you’ll be eating.

But the thing that most African Americans don’t talk about is the origin of our soul food. Most of the dishes we’ve come to know, love, and be identified with are from a time when our colored ancestors where slaves. A time in history every black person still holds a quiet secret bitterness over, when ‘Massa’ would only eat the best, and leave the worst pieces– like pigs feet, ham hocks, chitlins – for the slaves to fight over like dogs. The slaves learned how to cook these stuffs, foraged for spices and boiled everything for hours in order to make the pieces edible. Weeds cooked down with pork fat become tasty collards. Parts of the pig best left in the dirt became seasoning, and the small bits of meat in a diet.  Our ancestors learned how to make due with what they had, and over time, these dishes became our history, our culture, even though the basis of every bite is rooted in poverty and subjugation.

It seems as though every colored people have this vice – eating the foodstuffs oppression served up and now calling it a part of the culture. Hawaiians have it with white flour, Mexicans with menudo, Native Americans with fried foods and alcohol; the list goes on. Somehow, our ancestral subjugations have become the basis of our memory (“this is what we’ve always done.”), forgetting that our people, whatever the culture, had a long line of history before tyranny and feudalism entered the picture.

So now that “we have overcome”, why are we still eating slave food?

When I first asked myself this question, the simple answer was “because it’s good! Because that’s what I know how to cook. Because that what my mama ate, and what her mama ate…” But truly, how “good” is a food drenched in fat and grease, food made from unwanted parts, foods created out of such desperation and negativity that it cant help but to carry that same energy?   In this way, it seems as though the perils of slavery are still killing us, still holding us down – only now the Master is no longer the white man or the dollar, but rather our people’s misconstrued sense of tradition.  These foods are literally poisoning our bodies, and we continue to serve these big plates of death at every family function.

When I judge my meals from that standpoint, its ridiculous to me that I would put anything into my system with such a negative rooting. Why would I feed my body poison? Why would I knowingly ingest low quality? Why would I eat the meat of a tortured and eventually murdered animal?

“Because it’s good! Because that’s what I know how to cook. Because that what my mama ate, and what her mama ate…”

This answer simply won’t work anymore, especially knowing what we do about energy, metaphysics – and the basic functioning of the colon and intestines. The body can hold onto food we ate years ago, and the negative feelings that came in with it.

The basic truth is humanity’s relationship with food has to change – particularly spiritual people. Maintaining a healthy diet is our first step on the spiritual path, because everything we ingest is a literal fuel for the body, the mind, the spirit. The food we eat echoes in our lives, hinders or helps our decisions, our relationships. Our bodies are all we have, and regardless of our weakness of spirit when it comes to food, we can control what we put into them.  From the heaviness of energetically poisoned food to basic white sugar, it all affects us (and if you don’t believe that, just skip your first cup of coffee tomorrow morning). What affects us ripples out and flows through our lives and the lives of others, causing an effect on the world.  And like every relationship gone wrong, the key to saving yourself is first recognizing what is no longer good for you, then finding the strength to let it go.

So does that mean I’m off soul food for good? That I’m moving on to grains and fresh-water fish, eventually embracing the vegan lifestyle?  It’s doubtful.

Extremely doubtful.

I like my chicken fried, my steak bloody, my dessert before the main course. My day doesn’t start without the minimum two espressos. Smoking is awesome – a pink lung is a wasted lung. Somebody pass the orange juice, and don’t forget the Grey Goose.

So no, I don’t think there is a single container of soybeans out there with my name on it.

However, I know I can move past these things. I just have to look at the way ingesting all of those foods make me feel; recognize that just like a drug, I am addicted and these things are destroying my quality of life. I need to check myself in to food rehab, and embrace better choices: eating and cooking organically, finding a kosher butcher, shopping for fresh vegetables instead of frozen. Baby steps. Remembering that my body truly is a temple; that it deserves to be nurtured with the flavors of life instead of the spoils of oppression.

And maybe – just maybe – at the next family dinner, I’ll start with a salad.

Reading through 2 Kings last night and got me thinking;

Joisah spend so much time doing a “spring clean” all over Israel, getting rid of all the idols that was build up over the years. After he died, there were several “bad” kings that did evil and led the Israelites back into idolarty again.

This had me thinking; what is the point of trying to do what is right when at the end of the day it takes one bad thing to spoil the whole thing. The funny thing is that, it doesn’t matter what you have done and how much good it is, it just takes one bad to tear the whole thing down. It’s not like no one has ever not done a bad thing in their lives before, it is just that they forget theirs and focus on others. Why? Don’t know. I guess it is the fact that we need to try to strive to what is good regards. We are called to perserve in the midst of difficulties. I have watched a movie called “Groundhog Day” where the main character kept living the day over and over again until he got it right. Initially he could not accept it and fought against the idea but slowly he realised. I believe it is the same with us. Initially we do not get it right the first time, but in the midst of trying to do good, we learn to do it better.

We need to follow the steps of Joisah and take a realistic and honest audit of our lives, do anything need a spring clean out? 

What is the point of trying to do what is right? Even if your heart is in the right place, someone will use and twist that motive to be something else and at the end of the day, you try to do what is right just to be kick down again. The funny thing is that things gets dragged out from the past time and time again by ourselves, other person or something else to discourage us. It is thankful that God that takes my mistakes, failures and screws, buries it at the ocean floor (otherwise I would be in real deep trouble.) A God that do not hold my sin against me, strives to teach me what is right and wrong and delights to watch me grow into the image of His Son daily.

Next time the “Bad Ol’ Pusspycat” comes crawling out of the cupboard to spoil and take you down; call Granny (God) to give it a swift “whack” with that ol’ umbrella. 

~ Kenny (4 June 2009) ~

I have been trying to figure out how to post the video on here since I saw Goodie Mob live on Jimmy Kimmel perform their classic cut, Soul Food with The Roots.  FINALLY, I got it to work.  For those of you who missed this performance, it was really dope.  Goodie Mob STILL sounds incredible and of course The Roots absolutely kills this song.  Goodie Mob also performed Cell Therapy at the BET Hip Hop Awards a month or two ago and did a great job as well.  Check out both performances.  These are both must have in your lives.

Kara says:

 hey there, I did exciting things today.

Amanda says:

 Hello Miss Excitement

 Let’s have it

Kara says:

 Went to the gym, thats a given though. Then I walked on down to reids and met up with michael. I had a large costa rican. We chatted and scoped out every pretty person that walked through the door. It was fun times. Then… we met up with nicole, and she made delicious sechwan pork, it was divine. We also planned a two day trip to moncton as well…just for fun.

 It was a very productive day.

Amanda says:

 For shopping?

Kara says:

 indeed, and delightful food.

 Nicole and her wicked sweet delta discount, we’ll be going down and staying in style for cheeeeaaaap

Amanda says:

 that’s right. And will you be hitting up le queeeer bar?

Kara says:

 mmmmm….. maybe… triangles….

 i’ve been there a time or two..

Amanda says:

 I can’t say that I have. Not to my knowledge. But maybe. I always confuse that and Reflections.

Kara says:

 reflections…Halifax… yeah I could see that… they are both in basements.

 that’s strange to me

Amanda says:

  I think a lot gay bars in basements

  like hiding from Mom and Dad? I’m not sure.

Kara says:

 I think so.

Amanda says:

 the one here is also semi underground. Perhaps, it’s to establish a down low theme. I don’t know

 I ate soul food and stared down four thousand deadlines and heckled some more on craigslist.

 How goes the fishing?

Kara says:

 it goes… I’ve been out all day, and i see I have 6 new emails that I haven’t checked yet.

 It’s a strange world to me.

Amanda says:

 How so? Enlighten me.

Kara says:

 just the whole process of chatting up people…

Amanda says:

 Just think of it as the bullshit of a first date minus having to actually scream across a busy restaurant.

Kara says:

 because it is a process…and i’m sure there is a kosher way of going about it…but it seems automated.

Amanda says:

  Automated how?

 Like what’s your favourite colour?

Kara says:

 hmmm…. no, not necessarily the topic of conversation… just I’ll send you a message.. you send me a message… it’s weird… I’d rather just be out there… meeting people… even though it’s 7000 times harder.

 hahaha

 but that takes too long I suppose.

Amanda says:

  Well not necessarily. You could start going ‘places’ to meet people and reporting back. It might be good for ratings.

 Where would you go?

Kara says:

 hahaha

 triangles

 boom

 the ol bar scene

 hahaha

Amanda says:

 Oh a bar. Yeah, your liver is still young. I always forget.

Kara says:

 It’ll catch up to me one day… and I’ll die.

 hahaha

Amanda says:

 I just find that I’ve had enough drunken, recreation sex.

 But I recommend you get your dosage. You’ve been out of commission for some time.

Kara says:

 hahaha

 out of commission!

 At the cleaners.

Amanda says:

 What?

Kara says:

 nevermind.

Amanda says:

 ha.

 How is your new pussy?

Kara says:

 a little hell raiser… but soo fucking cute that I don’t care because we cuddle.

Amanda says:

 You cuddle?

Kara says:

 scary thought right?

Amanda says:

 And here, I thought you were made of stone.

 Like cuddling cement

 haha

Kara says:

 hahaha

Amanda says:

 I kid.

 I know you’re a big softy

Kara says:

 it’s mostly true…

 BAH

Amanda says:

 I want to live on a commune right now.

Kara says:

 why?

 with nuns? like sister act?

Amanda says:

 There are these wooden balls you can go hang in, in the middle of the forest

 no with hippies

 Preferably polyamourous

 Hippies

Kara says:

 I’ll go with the nuns.

 hahaha

Amanda says:

 I will keep the blasphemy to a minimum.

 How have you been keeping busy at the new living quarters?

Kara says:

 by not spending much time here.

 hahaha

 I wake up.. watch Canada am… eat a little breakfast…go to the gym then I feel like the day is done.

Amanda says:

 What I would give to be a seasonal worker.

Kara says:

 you could, I’d hire you.

 I’m sure you could pull your weight.

Amanda says:

 Seriously, with no training? Great then. It’s settled. I do have remarkable upper body strength.

Kara says:

 It’s true

 my legs are getting rugged from the gym

 the gym

 it excites me

 are you still going to yoga?

Amanda says:

 There are strangers in my room.

 Showing my house.

Kara says:

 weeeird

Amanda says:

 I semi go to yoga

 yeah, she was hot. her name is nikki from Ottawa and she’s cute as a button.

Kara says:

 hahaha

Amanda says:

 I can’t believe I have to move. SO MUCH TO DO.

 Anyways I should ‘book’ er.

Kara says:

 yeah yeah

Amanda says:

 GO ON A DATE

Kara says:

 right now?

Amanda says:

 yep

Kara says:

 hahaha

 I don’t think I can call a class act at 11

 haha

Amanda says:

 goodbye lover.

The Awakening of a Nation

…And The Uneven Slumber of a Notion

Warning! The Following is a Long, Poorly-Written Essay And Is Not Suitable For Those Without Time:

See the very bottom for a summary—>

One of my favourite topics to muse upon is precisely how a country and people came to be. I aim low, right? How did their society develop over the years, why they are where they are now, why this is like this and that is like that and, perhaps the most interesting question, why is so radically different from our own? Lacking an academic discipline that would enable me to answer such a question with any certainty, I have a few pet theories based purely upon my own observations and inconsistent logic.

Some explanations for differences are being parried back and forth in my mind.

Explaining differences in our societies with race is a laughable idea. Genetically, there is no basis for such a claim and the efforts to do so have been mired with prejudice and falsehood. Race is like an oily roadside pothole: though the surface may appear promisingly colourful and diverse, you’ll discover that its merely due to the whimsy of the light shining on it as the same water stews underneath. So race or genetics cannot answer these questions.

History is of high significance: intellectual advances, legal precedents, civil movements, political structures and the like. In Britain, the philosophical advancements in, say, utilitarianism provided a solid grounding for foreign administration and thus the maintenance of the Empire. In Germany, the current generation are the first to live in a united Germany – though are still not free from the angst of losing the second World War.

What I must find out is what movements, what key moments in history made Costa Rica the country it is today, because I believe that when one wishes to find out where something is going, it’s best to at least know where it came from.

A Brief Summary of What I Have Observed:

To call Costa Rican society simple would do it a great disservice and answer very little. But there is a simplicity to it. Rustic, maybe, would be a better word. Modern technology does not pervade life the way it does back in Europe. The road system, due to the prevalence of uneven terrain and hot climate, is rudimentary at best. Clothing is functional first and foremost and going shirtless in public is considered rude. Music is a somewhat uneven mix of cheap country Americana (very popular), Euro-pop, but, unsurprisingly, mostly Latin American. Housing is basic, wooden and occasionally quite crude. Most homes would have fridges and cookers, but televisions and telephones are less common.

The country is not wealthy. GDP (nominal) is roughly equivalent to Latvia… with twice the population of said country. Life expectancy is high enough at 77 years. Unemployment is low, but inflation is high. The country has enjoyed political and economic stability for quite some time. They are a nation at peace, yet they do not have much.

Obviously these are generalisations; cut me some slack here, it’s only my fourth day. So its certainly not  simple, maybe just rustic. But that doesn’t really answer the question I posed earlier does it?

Some Comparisons to Illustrate My Laboured Point

The main thing I can’t figure out is whether the country makes the people or the people make the country. For example: did the Dutch make the Netherlands or did the Netherlands make the Dutch?

Consider the climate: temperate, few extremes, no severe weather patterns to jar the senses and minds of the general populace. Could this breed stability and a rational society simply because they would have less mental health and physical health problems, thus less stress, less anxiety and the like? Then there are things like the terrain, the soil fertility, the woodland cover, the coastal regions, the precipitation and other such factors. What social, political and even psychological effects does this have on the populace? Then there are the same considerations about their immediate neighbours, heavily affecting the nature of the relationship between them. The extent to which the land makes the people cannot be underestimated. Geopolitics is not my speciality, but its a fascinating concept.

Going further back, the Roman Republic was allowed to flourish in peace largely due to the huge natural defensive wall in the form of the Alps, meaning they were free to progress without the raids and violence that plagued most other European tribes. Their land made them what they were more than they would like to admit.

Moving Slowly On

My questions about Costa Rica are the same. What social, political and psychological effects does the country have on the people here?

The climate is tropical, with a  rainy and dry season. Does this affect the work ethic as to work too hard during the day would be unsustainably taxing on one’s body. It is only rational to wish to rest in such heat and humidity. Homes, lives and transport have to be organised around the seasonal rhythm.

The roads are designed for horses in the mountains – and when the scenery is so beautiful and the horses so majestic, why bother upgrade? Where’s the authenticity in a 4×4 and air con?

The food is simple because the food is more than sufficient for nutrition and health. The Ticos (Costa Ricans) do not have the diseases of wealth and surplus (almost no diabetes, for example) and, as noted, life expectancy is more than acceptable.

Soccer is the game, possibly even religion, of choice. When all you need to enjoy it is a ball and some space, would one expect any different? It is the same everywhere else: soccer is popular because it is so very easy to play with friends, practice alone or just kick a ball against a wall. It is a game that can be enjoyed in the streets, in a garden, in a garage, on a pitch and wherever there is a ball, you have soccer. Like many parts of the world, it is the new, civilised form of tribal warfare. Great derby matches settle regional disputes. Even the basic unit of military, the squad, is used as the word for team. I firmly believe that the prevalence of such a sport reduces violence and civil strife and its proliferation should be encouraged… even if rugby is a far superior sport!

Religion plays an important part in everyone’s life; Catholic iconography is practically everywhere. Death is not seen as the end, merely the end of this life and the beginning of the next. Religion, when spread with peace and justice, can be a magnificent tool for social cohesion. In a country almost 95% Catholic, religious issues are rarely a point of contention and most people live happily under the (supposed) moral guidance of the Catholic Church.

The Ticos know how beautiful and pristine their country is. Unlike the Irish, for example, they know that what they have is truly special and they have the will to keep it that way. The Irish mostly don’t know what they have and are not doing the best job at maintaining what they have left. Maybe it’s hard to appreciate the Irish countryside when it’s rainy and overcast all the time. This could explain why the Ticos have not exploited their natural resources as much as they could have. Less wealth for more beauty? That’s a fair trade, me amigos.

If I Had a Conclusion, It Would Be Up Next

So my efforts to understand this country continue. The lay of the land and the natural conditions obviously play a big part in shaping a society; to what extent and what other factors are involved, I do not know yet. Of course, I do have more theories. I could, quite feasibly, discover that all I have postulated above is complete and utter nonsense, a waste of my time and yours, my initial questions woefully inadequate to begin with and my answers woefully inadequate. I have to say, I welcome that moment – because when I am able to disprove what I had previously written, then I know I have taken steps further towards truth and knowledge.

If you’re looking for that summary… good luck to ye, ye lazy swine. Try just scanning over the article and absorbing maybe four or five words. This is the selection I got from doing that very thing:

1. Inconsistent
2. Colourful
3. Simple
4. Generalisations
5. Feasibly
   

See how effective that technique is for obfuscating my entire message? No? Then I cannot help you.

Here are some thoughts I was honored to put to paper for our church newsletter.  I pray they may bless others as they are shared here too.

You’ll never be any good at….Why do you always….You’re not godly enough to….You’re a terrible…. How would you react if someone spoke such things to you? You might be paralyzed with guilt, gross introspection, hurt, anger, or fear. While it’s unlikely others make such accusations against us, this could well be a conversation taking place in our very own hearts and minds. Accusations can cause us to stumble in our pursuit of the things of God. They bear no good fruit and we must take such defeating thoughts captive.

This is a lesson God has been working out in my heart since hearing the truths Nancy Wilson shared at our women’s retreat last spring. Who am I listening to: the accuser or my intercessor? From her talk on Feminine Vulnerabilities, my notes read: “Our hearts condemn us. Don’t trust your own heart! The Holy Spirit never accuses us; it is the devil who wants to paralyze you in your calling.” Revelation 12:10 speaks of “the accuser of our brothers who accuses them before our God day and night.” Consider how our enemy, Satan, who roams the earth seeking whom he may devour, persists in chipping away at the weak spots in our walls as we build our homes. He stands day and night before our God hurling accusations at us!

I confess Satan’s accusations have paralyzed me plenty of times throughout my life with Christ. But accusations are not God’s way of dealing with His children. He is a father who disciplines when needed, corrects with His word, and convicts of specific sins by His Holy Spirit. His way is not to tell us we are failures and that we aren’t able to do what He’s calling us to do. This is the voice of the accuser. In contrast to this voice which seeks my ruin, is Hebrews 7:25. “But Jesus lives forever, he has a permanent priesthood. Therefore he is able to save completely those who come to God through Him, because he always lives to intercede for them.”  So while Satan stands before the Father day and night accusing me, Jesus sits at the right hand of the Father interceding on my behalf—always. The end result of believing accusations is defeat; but responding to the Holy Spirit results in repentance and sweet reconciliation.

Truthfully, there are days I still struggle with misgivings and defeat. Two verses have encouraged me in this area. First, whatever good I am doing, I am to do more and more (1 Thessalonians 4:1). I will not be complete in any area this side of heaven, yet my life is to be a practice toward godliness in increasing measure. The second is from Phil 3:15,16 “…if on some point you think differently, that too God will make clear to you. Only let us live up to what we have already attained.” God’s word is my greatest corrective. I am also tutored by others’ lives in Christ. But I am to be faithful to do what he has shown me this far, and to strive to do so in increasing measure until the day that I can personally thank the one who has saved me completely.

We baked Sugee cake this afternoon for a beautiful ta-tai who had dinner at Ore’s over the weekend. Her sister, also called Justina – and looks like a sweet, chic aunty -  was raving about J’s famous sugee cake so she ordered one immediately.

After recharging for 24 hours, my partner in crime and I got down to business. Here’s what you have to do:

Blend salted butter, semolina, almonds, eggs and sugar.

Throw in some flour, baking powder, vanilla essence and here’s the best part, brandy…Double check if measurements can be stretched a little…

Then bung them in the oven while you catch re-runs of Silence of the Lambs.

When they look puffy, skewer the heart to check if it’s cooked…

They’re done!

Inhale its sweet aroma….

and you might possibly pull a face when you realize that you and your braces hate nuts.

The task of creating “soulful,” Thanksgiving dishes that are savory, flavorful and aromatic is not a task for the persons lacking creativity, time and patience.  Just relax; with a little pre-planning, you can wing it with minimal stress, and serve a Thanksgiving menu of tempting soulful dishes.

With the Great Migration of African-Americans from the south to the North, “soul food” became a cultural identifier that reminded those who migrated, of their family and life “back home.” Soul food differed regionally, and was modified based on availability of ingredients in a given region of the United States. These foods known as soul food, reflects the rich cultural heritage and resourcefulness of the African-American cook, developing dishes that would have a long-lasting influence on American cuisine.

In my experiences, soul food is anything, which tastes like something that comes from home/family. 

The candied yams are “candied,” warm and sweetly simmered with cinnamon and nutmeg.  The thick, two-cheese baked macaroni and cheese, warm succulent collard and mustard greens with smoked turkey legs and buttery homemade biscuits brings my family to a state of comfort and contentment.  This brings me to my magnificent creation of mouth-watering soulful delight “dressing.” Some might say that the turkey or ham is the focal point of their Thanksgiving table, not in my house; it is all about the dressing.

To read full article, please go to the right sidebar. Let me know how your Dressing Project turns out.

Recipe included.

The Difference

It struck me once that not only is “beauty skin deep” but so are races. I challenge the bigots of this world to differentiate a white man’s spleen from a black man’s.

There are though, I perceived, other kinds of races, the spiritual kinds. The philosophical race, the creative race, the hating race, the loving race, the wise race, and the foolish race. And a host of others.

And when all is said and done, are not these spiritual races far more important to recognize than the physical.

I, for one, was convinced of this as I wrote this song.

The lyrics:

The Difference

Brown and green and blue
they come some speckled
as with dust from the sun

Clouded some with fear
and wonder wicked some
with lies they have spun

Startled some to see
quite immaculately
a pairing that daemons
would shun
has begun

Brittle white and grey
and cold and folded
to the crust of the earth

Ribs and arms and hands
and heels and skulls
to feed the seedling at birth

Soaring then she grows
in a pattern that goes
from nothing into nothing
of worth
to rebirth

Who will seize the heart
to seek the part
that wonders

Who will seek to tell
to show the shell
that plunders

Who will rise
to know the spell
of earth

Two and two and ten
and ten are legs and
arms and fingers and toes

Ears and eyes and lips
and teeth and tongue
to think that somehow she knows

A liver and a spleen
as alike and unseen
as the races and races
of throes
she bestows

And you find it all
some vast appalling
sameness

As you move to find
your shell some kind of
lameness

With a very
different heart
in you

So you shed your feet
to rise to greet
the tender

And you shed your eyes
to realize
the mender

As a never
ending song
as you

Ananda Wolf
January 1998

Words and Music Copyright © 2009 by Wolfstuff

“I have much to write to you, but I do not want to use paper and ink. Instead, I hope to visit you and talk with you face to face, so that our joy may be complete.” 2 John 12

by OS Hillman (TGIF Ministry)

It is easy to fire off a letter to someone in this age of electronic communication because of its expediency. In business we call this being efficient. However, there are times when nothing but a face-to-face meeting is the appropriate means of communication. We know that verbal skills are a very small portion of communication. Body language, voice tone, and our expressions make up the majority of our overall communication. This cannot be seen through a letter or electronic medium.

John knew that being face to face with those he ministered to was important. And for John, it meant some major trouble to get from one place to another. It wasn’t as simple as getting into a car or hopping onto an airplane. John’s desire and determination to visit and talk face to face reinforces the importance of one-on-one personal communication.

I once had to confront a businessman about some problems we were having in a business deal. He lived in another town. The negotiations had stalled to some degree. I could have attempted to solve the problem over the phone. But I realized the serious nature of the issues required a face-to-face meeting. I drove two hours to his office and met with him face to face. It meant all the difference. It demonstrated to my friend I was serious enough about solving the problem to take a day to come see him. It also showed I valued him and he was worth the effort. This resulted in him giving greater emphasis to the issue

Next time a situation arises that requires more focused communication, consider whether the situation requires a personal visit. You may find this will be the key to resolving issues that otherwise might end in a stalemate.

Hey everyone! Yesssss I am back on the blog, YAY! There have been a lot of changes in my life recently and I have a lot on my plate. However, I am embracing all of it, because it is all amazing stuff and I feel so blessed that I get to have this life and do what I love everyday with people like you!

Ok, lets get down to fitness shall we??? Lately I have been doing a lot of reading, a ton of studying, personal development and growth, and feel as though I am expanding every day. That is a very cool feeling. Remember when I talked about Primary and Secondary Food a while back (see article to refer to)? Well, I have basically been feeding my soul with the best nutrients around…wisdom, awareness, spirituality, and new exercises and healing methods. That’s right people, my soul is being fed. Food that we eat is definitely becoming a secondary food to me, as I begin to get more and more fulfilled in the other areas i n my life. As I have said in previous articles, it is sooo important to have balance between your leisure time, work time, exercise time, spiritual practice time, school time, relationship time, etc. Also, find out what really feeds your soul and start serving yourself the right portions of it each day or week.

I have to share with you all just how excited I am to be back on the blog. I needed to take a small break to get some other things situated in my life, but now I am back with new ideas, fresh knowledge, and pure inspiration:)  I have so much to share with you over the coming months about what I am learning at New York’s Institution for Integrative Nutrition, what I am learning from my guru Karl List, and what I continue to learn every day just by living my life in alignment with my highest passion and purpose. I look forward to helping to educate you on how to make better food choices, how to shop for whole foods that you can trust, and how to eat in ways that satisfy you as well as keep your body at an ideal weight. Also, we will be exploring all the ways in which you may be able to feed your soul!

What types of things feed your soul that you know of? For example, what brings you pure joy and happiness? What things make you feel so good, to the core of your being? What things pull you into action without you having to try? What is the language of your heart? Let’s start there! Please leave all your questions and comments for me on the blog.I can’t wait, and look forward to, hearing from you and all about the cravings of your soul! Here’s To Your Health!!!

The Circle of Life is a great tool to use for you to make sure you are achieving balance in your persoanl and professional life!!!!

When I started working in North Omaha 2 years ago, I soon found out about a new restaurant called ‘Big Mama’s Kitchen’. My interest was peaked and I stopped in for lunch. It was well worth it! For the same prices we pay at  Applebees and other sit down chains I’ve had the oven fried chicken dinner, afro burgers, and sweet potato pie ice cream- with delicious cornbread and sides at Big Mama’s. Almost every time I’ve been to visit Big Mama’s Kitchen Big Mama herself has come out to check on how my friends and I are getting on and enjoying the food. It’s a great experience from start to finish- supporting a wonderful woman, a local restaurant, and savoring tasty food all at once. I suggest you visit the website, then head over to the Kitchen for a meal soon!

http://www.bigmamaskitchen.com

Grand opening picture from the website.

the fooders x soul food / foodgadgets

Ecco i foodgadgets presentati alla conferenza stampa di Soul Food, a palazzo Rospigliosi.
Sono ispirati al soul food, appunto: una ricetta di cucina italiana e una ricetta di cucina creola.

Amatriciana e Caponatina.

foodgadgets x soul food - the fooders

Un po’ di passato

The Fooders & Galleria 291 Est - microcucina al Rialtosantambrogio per Soul Food

MICROCUCINA:
Ideazione e progetto: The Gastronauts Italian Project aka THE FOODERS
Selezione artisti: The Gastronauts Italian Project aka THE FOODERS
Logistica, allestimento, progetto scenografico: Galleria 291 Est (V. Caruso /C. Colini)
Foto/Comunicazione grafica/website: Francesca Barreca
Video Editing: Marco BaccanelliComunicazione/editing/testi: The Gastronauts Italin Project aka THE FOODERS + M. C. Pernarella

Microcucina nasce dall’idea di un festival con la scatola di montaggio; un contenitore in senso fisico e lato che può essere trasportato, montato e smontato in poche ore, in qualsiasi luogo e in qualsiasi piazza in un’ottica “di mordi e fuggi”.
Il programma del festival sarà ricco e non avrà nulla da invidiare a quelli convenzionali dei suoi fratelli maggiori, pur essendo di breve e veloce fruizione.Come in un paradosso il piccolo spazio “vuole dare spazio” e visibilità ad artisti e microtendenze che fanno la differenza.
L’innovazione del microfestival si esplica tanto nei contenuti, quanto e sopratutto nelle scelte curatoriali e di allestimento.

Gli artisti infatti vi partecipano inviando gratuitamente un opera, oppure del materiale cartaceo/video/audio.Il richiamo alla cucina è un invito a vivere i contenuti in maniera più rilassata; sfidiamo chiunque poi a non aver mai curiosato nel forno, nel frigo o nella dispensa in cerca di qualcosa in grado di soddisfare e appagare la propria curiosità gastronomica, in questo caso intellettuale. In 4 mq si riuniscono creative workers, chefs, musicisti, artisti da ogni provenienza, i migliori interpreti di “chi la cucina la fa con arte ma anche chi fa arte con la cucina”.

MICROCUCINA EDITIONS

01.Freeshout Prato
02.Micasa Roma
03.Festival della Creatività Firenze
04.Soul Food Rialtosambrogio. Roma

“Baby, it’s cold outside…” but it’s the perfect temperature for a tomato soup and grilled cheese. I realize that the song is actually about a girl needing to go home so her parents don’t worry and the neighbors don’t raise an eyebrow, and the guy is trying to get her to stay, but I promise it’s still appropriate here because if you make this soup for your sweetheart, they’ll stay as long as you want. I also realize that was a super run-on sentence, apologies. And just to clear up any confusion: yes, those little white spots in the photo are intentional — it’s a cream drizzle!

Ingredients
Source: Adapted from Epicurious
3 1/4 lb. plum tomatoes, sliced in thirds
3 T. olive oil, plus more for sauteeing
1 28 oz. can diced tomatoes
6-8 cloves garlic, left unpeeled
1 1/2 tsp. salt, divided
1 tsp. pepper, divided
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1/2 tsp. oregano
2 tsp. brown sugar
2 T. unsalted butter
4 cups chicken or vegetable low-sodium broth
3/4 cup heavy cream
1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper
pinch of red pepper flakes
pinch of all-spice

Directions
Put oven rack in middle position and preheat to 350
1. Arrange tomatoes, cut sides up, in 1 layer on a large sheet and add garlic to pan. Drizzle tomatoes with oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Roast tomatoes and garlic 1 hour, then cool in pan on a rack. Peel garlic.
2. In a large soup pot, cook onion, oregano, and sugar in butter over moderately low heat, stirring frequently, until onion is softened, about 5 minutes. Add tomatoes, garlic, and broth and simmer, covered, 20 minutes.
3. Puree soup in 1/2 cup-1 cup batches in a food processor (use caution when blending hot liquids).Pour pureed soup into separate large bowl until you’re done. Return soup back to pot. Stir in cream and 1 tsp. salt, 1/2 tsp. pepper, all-spice, cayenne pepper and red pepper flakes to taste, simmer 2 minutes and serve.

Voila!

http://2.bp.blogspot.com

My old boy from the point
But I’m from Southwest and every
Now and then I get put to the test
But I can’t be stopped
Cause I gotta come true ain’t go no gun
But I got my crew
Didn’t come fro no beef cause I don’t eat steak
I got a plate of soul food chicken, rice and gravy
Not covered in too much
Drinking a cup of punch, tropical
Every last Thursday of the month
Daddy put tha hot grits on my chest in tha morning
When I was sick Mary had tha hot soup boiling
Didn’t know why but it felt so good
Like some waffles in that morning
Headed back to tha woods
Now I’m full as tick
Got some soul on blast in tha cassette
Food for my brain
I haven’t stopped learning yet
Hot wings from Mo-Joes
Got my forehead sweating
Celery and blue cheese on my menu next
Southern Fry won’t allow my body to lie still
Tied face goons surround me like cancer drill
me with second-hand obstables
But, only to make matters worse
Plus I’m getting pimped by this temp lady Jackie
From Optima staffing figure laughing
Shut up clown don’t talk to me
Like that looking stupid of course
living day by day and you ain’t hard
Trick hell you say?
It’s such a blessing when my eyes
Get to see the sun rise
To get further away from where I’ve been
But I’ll never gorget everythang I went through
I appreciate the shit because
If I hada went and took the easy way
i wouldn’t be the strong nigga that I am today
Everythang that I did
Different thangs I was told
Just ended up being tood for my soul
Come and get yo’ soul food, well well
Good old-fashioned soul food, all right
Everythang is for free
As good as it can be
Come and get some soul food
Sunday morning where you reating at?
I’m on 1365 Wichita Drive
Ole’ burd working the stove ride
Churches dripping chicken in yesterday’s grease
Didn’t go together with this quart of Mickey’s
Last night hanging over from a good time
yeah beef is cheaper but
It’s pumped with red dye between two pieces of bread
Shawty look good with dem hairy legs
Wish I could cut her up but, ma stomach come before sex
A house full of hoes now what’s the ingredient
Spaghetty plus her monthly flow
They know they making it hard on the yard
Fuck Chris Darden, fuck Marsha Clark
Taking us when we’re in the spotlight for a joke
Changing by the day I see it’s getting bigga in my square
Looking at Lenox from the outside
With a stare no money to go inside
Tameka and Tiffany outside tripping
And skipping rope to the beats from my jeep
As I speak wuz up from the driver seat
A heaping helping of fried chicken
Macaroni and cheese and collard greens
Too big for my jeans
Somke steams from under the lid that’s on the pot
Ain’t never had allot but thankful for
The little that I got why not be
Fast food got me feeling sick
Them crackers think they sick
By trying to make this bullshit affordable
I thank the Lord taht my voice was recordable
Come an get your soul food well well..
Hold up C it’s what I write
And Miss Lady acting like we in jail
Says she ain’t got no extra hush puppis to sell
Bankhead seafood making me hit that door
With a mind full of attitude
It was a line at tha beautiful
JJ’S Ribshack was packed too
Looking to be one of dem days
When Momma ain’t cooking
Everybody’s out hunting with tha family
Looking for a little soul food
Come and get yo’ soul food, well well
Good old-fashioned soul food, all right
Everythang is for free
As good as it can be
Come and get some soul food

It’s 1am and my body can’t get to sleep yet, not after sleeping till 5 today.

Sitting at the table,  I’m surrounded by tv , laptop, and our cats – Junior, Princess and Missy. Their presence is Contentment.

Junior is licking his toes – he does that habitually. When I stroke him, he buries his head further into my palms. Finally, he curls his paws beneath his head and rests on them, eyes closing for a quick snooze.

Princess jumps up to reach my hands when i reach out to stroke her. She’s incredibly affectionate and loves massaging our stomachs when we recline on the sofa.

Missy, the loner, waits when no other cat is near before rubbing herself on our legs, tellin us that she’s ready to give and reciprocate affection. Holding her close, I feel her body purring like a motor throbbing.