Xmas and The X PART 2

Then Came the Rigatoni with French Peas, Housemade Ricotta and Double Smoked Bacon

&

Sin Settled In

Luckily,

I had many Angels and Friends to Help Me Through The Wages of Sinful Feasting

Salted Caramel Peanut Gelato, Bourbon and Some Other Gelato

served on a Cold Marble Slab

Everyone Favored the Bourbon Flavor.

Is it wrong to Tell YOU there were also Ricotta Fritters with Blackberry Sauce, Pumpkin Cheescake and Chocolate Panna Cotta amdist a few sundaes and cafe affogato's?

Just a few.

The Holidays are Here!!! Enjoy!!!

I will.

xoxoxox

Erotic Romance Author Lex Valentine's Writing Is So Hot It Burns

 

I’m thrilled to have award winning, multipublished Author Lex Valentine as a guest on my column.  Her writing makes the heart pound, the pulse race, and the mind dream.  Lex Valentine is a writer whose craft is not limited to any one genre.  From vampires to dragons, to hetero action or steamy all male erotica, she is a gifted storyteller and wordsmith.

Erotic Romance Author Lex Valentine's Writing Is So Hot It Burns

"There isn’t much room for pride when someone is pulling a catheter out of you. You learn humility very quickly and hey, it’s not a bad lesson to learn."

Check out my guest post over at Sessha Batto's blogs.

http://sesshabatto.blogspot.com/2011/11/visit-with-xavier-axelson.html?zx=7b4997a1c5a5a7b3

http://sesshabattousai.com/cgi-bin/wordpress/?p=1123

 

 

The Forbidden Bookshelf Interviews Xavier Axelson

"When I'm not writing I'm a hedonist."
Check out my interview and excerpt over at 

The Forbidden Bookshelf.
 

http://www.theforbiddenbookshelf.com/2011/11/interview-with-xavier-axelson.html

 

My roast chicken...myself

I love roasted chicken.  For awhile I might have actually been addicted to it.  I have memories of sneaking over to the market and buying one of the already prepared birds at lunchtime and then snacking on it throughout the day.  One day a co-worker caught me...brown paper bag hidden under my desk and before i could hide it she said, "Do you really have an entire roast chicken at your desk!"
Guilty.
I also remember eating roasted chicken in the grocery store parking lot, but really that falls more under the heading of lust.
I do NOT have a roast chicken addiction...I will never admit it.  It has been forever since I overindulged in it and will only occasionally buy one for dinner when I just don't feel like cooking.
I must tell you that I have recently fallen even madly in love with Nigella Lawson, well MORE in love.  She is a passionate, curvaceous British TV cook who might just be the only other person in the world who shares such a passionate, if not slightly obscene lust for food as I do.
I am presently working me through her amazing, funny, informative cookbook, "How to Eat" and at times it does tend to nod it's head in the direction of food porn.  I'm not complaining and neither should you.  I recently read the passage about how to make a roasted chicken aloud to my sister who turned and asked me if it was porn.  I was titillated enough to embark on this journey if not for my own hedonistic needs then for my families hungry bellies.  I have no problem having scape goats to use as decoys for my culinary adventures.
At first, when I bought the bird my house was not in the mood for roast chicken and the poor baby sat for two days awaiting it's transformation.  I had bought shallots, garlic, lemon, tarragon and onions and red potatoes; all sat patiently waiting and greeted me each morning practically calling out in expectation.  I also read and re-read and read again the almost sinisterly simple recipe.  Surely I had missed something...
I did only buy 6 shallots when the recipe actually asked for 22 but I had the number six lodged in my brain and was sure this was the correct number, but being that Nigella does very little that isn't grand and abundant it was my bad.
So the day finally came when I was going to do the deed and I admit I read the recipe yet again.  I started the chicken at 4pm anointing with oil and sea salt and half of a juicy lemon went up the butt along with a bouillon cube.  I remember staring at it thinking; "this is so little seasoning, can this be right?"  I added an extra tablespoon of olive oil to the pan as I was instructed in the anticipation of making a chicken jus when the done.  I set a timer (something I have gotten in the habit of doing, it actually makes things MUCH easier) and went and watched a violently gross episode of Fringe while folding the weeks laundry.
About an hour in I went and tossed the shallots (unpeeled) and the cloves of two heads of garlic (again unpeeled) and whops I realized I had forgotten the tarragon so in that went as well.  Tarragon is a lovely herb, I have memories of eating a fragrant lamb and pea stew that my great aunt made every year and loving the flavor of the tarragon that she used to flavor it.  I need to cook more with it and was thrilled to be able to use the entire package in this dish.
I also had chopped up the potatoes and threw in a diced green pepper I had hanging about and half a white onion, added some olive oil, salt and pepper gave them a good shake in a sealed container an into the oven they went to meet their maker.  I did look at the chicken and was again unsure if it was going to turn out as I was hoping but I've learned with cooking there always tends to be a moment of doubt that one must push through.
This is similar I find to writing my first paragraph of the day, or making the first crepe.  It never quite turns out, but you end up pushing through it and eating it anyways.
So I closed the door and about half an hour later my house did indeed smell amazing.  Lemony, and full of tarragon.  Things could be worse.  As I watched someones brain leak out of their ears on tv I wondered if I would be able to pull off the jus, I am not the best at gravy.  I have been known to throw it down the sink and opt for the bottle of Heinz brown...I was hoping tonight would not turn out this way.
When there was about thirty minutes left of cooking time I went and threw some asparagus in a pan with some oil and a little sea salt and pepper and also squirted the other half of the lemon into the chicken pan and a little butter (well smart balance) but honestly you can't tell the difference.  The chicken had transformed I noticed it was golden brown and the smell of the shallots, garlic and the roasted potatoes was divine.  I was not going to mess up the gravy.
Finally when the timer on my microwave sounded and the episode of Fringe had ended I went and pulled the chicken from it's cozy home and was thrilled at how wonderful everything looked.  The skin of the chicken was so crisp it was almost like glass.  I let it rest for about 10 minutes and transferred it so I could work on the jus.  I put the roasting pan on the stove; added some white wine, a cup of hot water that I had dissolved another bouillon cube in, grabbed a wooden spoon and said a prayer.
Well, the jus thickened perfectly, not a gravy, but more a chickeny jus that tasted delicious.  The chicken was cooked to a turn; perfection!  Juicy, flavorful and practically falling off the bone.  Being that I cook for three and they can be picky, I was anxious but when my guy said "you can make this again,"  I knew I had hit it out of the park.
Dear Nigella, much love to you my dear, you are the queen of roasted chicken.
love,
an ever devoted roast chicken addict

The mustard pot and the spinal cord...

I have had two cans of sardines in my cupboard for sometime...I have no idea why but in what I thought was a moment of divine inspiration  I thought it would be great to throw a can on top of some freshly washed and seasoned baby greens (not a bad idea...right?)  I also had some leftover veggies from the night before that I thought would add a bit of extra something something to my greens...I was actually excited!  Hey didn't one of my favorite chefs Nigella Lawson make a dressing out of what was left in a Dijon mustard pot?  and didn't I just see that recipe in Better Homes and Gardens recently?  WAIT!
I should go back a bit...I did see the the mustard pot dressing recipe and I DID make it before and it was extremely delicious and being I had even less Dijon this time than that I figured it would be even better...
here is the RECIPE for the dressing!
Back to the sardines.   so the dressing was made in the said mustard pot with a flourish, a shake and even some amazing dark amber wildflower honey that I so love.  Dressing made, greens washed and slightly seasoned with a little lemon pepper and sea salt and voila there go the leftover veggies.  The broccoli was so hopeful.  Down goes a splash of the dressing and plop there goes the oily and extra yummy looking olive oil sardines...I was so excited...oh and wait how about a few triscuits just because...I need some crunch.  I made an ice water gathered my lunch and went to sit back down and write my sex advice column that had suddenly came so clear as to what it would be about...I forked up a delightful bite, fish, lettuce, veg and that lovely mustard pot dressing...and there it goes down the hatch.  It was good...I was happy and went about eating but suddenly, and not entirely like Ripley discovering her first alien...I saw what looked like a worm.  I dropped my fork...my god...what was it?  It was white, pearly almost in the mid-afternoon sunlight filtering through my blinds..it was definitely a worm, but wait...was it?
I pushed my fork against it, did it move or was I losing my mind?  I could no longer be sure as my imagination had already taken flight and I knew I would not be able to eat the rest of the salad regardless of what it was...I pressed the fork down on the offending organism only to have it virtually melt under the pressure.  Sure I may have squashed it as if it were not a measly worm but possibly a demon from hell...but how did it just fall apart?  I looked around half expecting to see Steven King or the Crypt Keeper leering at me over the sofa.
It was just then that I found a second one and upon closer inspection realized that the offending worms were actually the spinal cords of the sardines...this did NOT make it any less horrendous and it was at this moment of clarity that i rushed to the kitchen and dumped the entire plate of food into the trash.  I should have just had tuna.

Death of a year…

 Dear 2011,

Seeing this may be the last year before the hole in the milky way rips completely open and swallow us, I would just like to say…thanks for the memories.  The food eaten, the music heard, the books read and most importantly…the lessons learned.
What’s that?  There is a hole in the milky way?
Well could someone tell the slightly hysterical library aide who told me this at 9:30 in the morning?  I was innocently, well as innocently as I ever do anything, shelving books like any good volunteer does while in library school when I ran into someone I was in class with…working at the library!  When asked when they would be done with school (a question you ask every person who is in grad school…repeatedly…because you always forget) I was told they would graduate in 2012, which just happened to be when the world would be ending.
I could only stand and stare, not at this persoen, but beyond them at the homeless man who was ransacking the dvd’s, the motley collection of cd’s and at the water spots on the ceiling…
“It’s always something,” was the best I could muster…
“Well, there’s a tear in the milky way and it will eventually rip wide open and swallow the universe as we know it…”
The homeless man was completely mixing “Meet Me in St. Louis,” with the collection of National Geographic documentaries…chaos reigns…Would the world end now?
I hadn’t even really had enough coffee to fully digest a tear in the milky way but there it was…
“well, just think,”  I said struggling to find an answer somewhere within the disarray of organization that is a library, finding none I could only add, “you’ll be doing what you love when the Armageddon hits, lucky you!”
Now why tell this story now on Dec 31st?  Who knows…perhaps its because the inane top10 lists that populate every cultural avenue and spread like plaque psoriasis have left me itchy for  a fresh start.  It is no surprise to me that Robyn’s Body Talk masterpiece has been on nearly every musical top 10 list that I have seen…I knew this was something special from the first moment I heard “Dancing on My Own,”
p.s. I’m putting everything in quotes because after finishing a piece of writing I feel absolutely entitled to break as many grammar rules as possible so lighten up.
I am not surprised that “Black Swan” is on the lists as one of the best movies either, I knew from the moment I saw the trailer that the movie would be amazing.  It amuses me that people don’t know and need a list to validate what choices they make during a year.
I also find it hilarious when people come to me, and they always do, and say “oh you know that movie, restaurant, shampoo, book, etc you told me about…it’s on so and so’s top 10 list!”
Great!
But darling this isn’t magic, I’m not psychic…well maybe a little…but honestly it’s simply that I listen to my instincts.  I don’t think we as a society listen to our guts, our instinct, our inner voices and maybe it is because the tear in the milky way is really a vacuum and has sucked our most primal sensitivities up into the night sky, if only to make us feel less when fire and brimstone comes raining down in2012…I have no idea!
So what will my resolutions be for the new year?  To love more, listen more, talk less, read more (if that’s possible) definitely write more (this is definitely possible) eat more, drink more, celebrate more, give more, indulge more, provoke more, dance more, exercise more…more more more..because kids who knows what the new year will bring?
Don’t save your favorite scent for some special occasion wear the hell out of it every day.  Break out the good dishes and for goodness sake if not for you, for me open that bottle of wine, champagne, what have you and drink it!  Drink it straight from the bottle and stuff a piece of Belgian in your mouth as well…this is not a dress rehearsal, and why that may be cliche it is true!  One time, one dance, one way, one journey…one one one…not 2…one…If you don’t know what to do with yourself and many of us don’t at one point or another do something for someone else…if you think you have nothing to give your wrong!  Don’t ask me to tell you what you have to give…you’ll figure it out.
I recently finished writing a piece that involved a sex scene with a loaded gun.  I found the danger and eroticism of this not only edgy and hot but also appropriate for the story.  I was stunned by the different reactions I got to it…some thought the gun shouldn’t be loaded…it smacked of terrorism and the Russian roulette of STD’s …others said the danger of a loaded gun was incredibly hot and erotic…I realized once rereading and rereading (which is what we writers do) that it really wasn’t a big deal whether the gun was loaded or not…it was the idea of the gun so I say this to say this…
Really reread your scripts this year, I know I will…you may find that what may have been a big deal to some may not be a big deal to you now…make sense?  Maybe not…it’s early and I’m only one cup of coffee in…draw from it what you will…
so as we move closer to 2012 and the tear in milky way may or may not destroy us all…I hope that 2011 is full of things for you to tear into, desires to indulge, food to eat, drinks to drink, new experiences to experience, kinks to iron out, books to read and songs to sing because this is life…and to quote  The World According to Garp by the fabulous John Irving, which I have been reading over the last year…”we are all terminal cases…”
Get over it and celebrate!