Love, Luna

Luna bars are my go-to breakfast when time is short and I don’t feel like whipping up something fabulous, like raspberry French toast, or pecan and pumpkin pancakes.

Each bar is only 180 calories and chocked full of vitamins and minerals. The best part is they taste like a candy bar, only not nearly as cloying. My favorite flavor is Nuts Over Chocolate, a peanut and dark chocolate concoction, but I also love Iced Oatmeal Raisin and Peanut Butter Cookie.

And now I’ve discovered they've just introduced Luna Bar Minis. Woo hoo! Each little nugget is 80 calories and about three bites – just enough to sweeten my mouth and squelch any late morning tummy rumblings. The trick will be to not open more than one…or two.

More for Me

The best bite of dessert I think I’ve tasted is one of Eugenia Theodosopoulos’s French macarons. (That is how they are spelled, with one “o”.) And they are simply divine. Eugenia and her French husband own Essence Catering and Essence Bakery Café in Tempe, Arizona. She is considered the best caterer in town.

Eugenia brought a tray of her mini caramel cream-filled macarons to a reception yesterday at the Phoenix Zoo. I had four. My friends told me to leave some for other people. I tried, but if you’ve ever tasted one of her macarons, you understand how difficult that is. They are light, airy, chewy, and delicious.

She says that she’s developing some new flavors. She’ll introduce raspberry and then peanut butter, espresso and maybe even pistachio to add to her chocolate and caramel flavors. That makes me happy because that will leave more of the caramel ones for me.

Step Away From The Plate

I’m starting to sound like my parents. “Back in my day, (fill-in-the-blank).”

This fill-in-the-blank rant is about whippersnapper servers clearing plates from the table before I’m finished eating. I remember a time when servers wouldn’t even clear one plate until all diners at the table had finished, and it is still done that way in fine dining restaurants and in casual restaurants where management has properly trained their staff. If a diner pushes a plate to the edge of the table, that’s one thing, but otherwise, leave the stinking plate alone, please.

My husband says everybody does it now – it’s becoming an epidemic. It’s the young servers most eager to clear the table. It’s worse if the restaurant is slow and the servers are bored (why not go polish glassware?) but I’m wondering if perhaps this new generation has multitasking issues. Walking by a table on the way to the kitchen, they feel compelled to grab something, to save a step later? It’s so annoying!

We’re having dinner with friends at a casual but upscale burger restaurant the other night and our server (and every other server in the joint) is constantly picking at our table, trying to remove something. WE’RE STILL EATING, mind you, burgers in hand, sweet potato fries still on the plates, and they're trying to take them away. Good grief, kids. Let us old folks eat in peace… you’ve got a lifetime to clear plates.

Yin & Yong

That’s not a typo. I know the phrase is yin and yang, the Chinese philosophy that two opposite, yet complementary forces join to create unity.

My yin and yang is more yong. I tend to pair opposites that are not quite complementary to each other, but in my mind, create balance. My wacky, off kilter sense of balance. Here’s an example.

I am not the healthiest person on the planet (that would be my husband) but do love the idea of doing something good for my body once in a while, just to offset that extra beer I drank or that dessert I just had to eat in the course of my work. (Seriously, I could just have a couple bites to evaluate that sweet thing, but if it’s good, it’s gone.)

Right now I’m drinking green tea. After a big cup of coffee in the morning, I make a cup of green tea. I usually pour it over ice, especially now since it’s so darn hot. I don’t know what polyphenols are, but apparently they’re good for you, and green tea is chock full of them. Don’t worry, I haven’t gone completely nuts. I sweeten it with Splenda. I’m sure that’s not good for me. See? Balance.

Smell That Smell

Yesterday at the grocery store, I was picking up my umpteenth nectarine, trying to find one that smelled like a nectarine, when a young woman approached and commented to her mother that the nectarines and peaches looked good.

She tore off a plastic bag and just started loading it with every nectarine she picked up. She didn’t even look over them for bruises; much less give them a squeeze to see if they were ripe. She certainly didn’t take a whiff of the stem end.

I asked her how she knew they would be good and she just gave me this blank stare, and then tentatively answered “because they’re here?” I’m sure she thought I was the fruit police. I stood empty handed, and she had a half a dozen nectarines in her bag.

I finally found two (out of a least a couple hundred) that I felt were worthy of taking home. I don’t know, maybe hers will ripe on the counter, but I’ve always found that if the nectarine doesn’t have that peachy smell in the store, it sure as heck isn’t going to develop it after a few days on my kitchen counter. In fact, the skin usually shrivels up long before it ever, if at all, emits a fragrant smell.

It really makes me long for a nectarine tree in my back yard.

The Show Must Go On

Someone asked me how I approach restaurant reviewing and it made me think of the word collaboration.

There are three components that make up a restaurant experience: the food, the service and the ambience. All three have to work in tandem to create a harmonious experience.

It’s really not much different than what makes a particular TV show your favorite. It takes a unique concept, talented writers, able actors and good directing to create a worthy show.

It’s the same for a good restaurant, but the players are the chef and/or kitchen staff, the servers, and the management.

The making of a good restaurant doesn’t solely rest on the shoulders of a chef, although the food is certainly the main event. The service – from how you’re greeted at the door to the attentiveness of your server during your meal – is a supporting player as is the overall ambience (décor, lighting, background music, and general “vibe”).

When one of the collaborators isn’t carrying his or her weight, the experience quickly gets off kilter. Sometimes we can overlook the infractions. Some diners could care less about the service if the food is solid. Others will forgive food faux pas if the service is personal and attentive. And ambience is just icing on the cake to some.

I approach each restaurant with the intent of evaluating all three components. Food always counts for more in my reviews (who goes to a restaurant and doesn’t eat?), followed by service and then ambience. I don’t apply the same strict standards to a sandwich shop as I do a fine dining restaurant. I take into account the audience the restaurant is serving.

At the end of the page, it’s just an opinion, albeit an educated one. And, yes, I love my job. Dining in a restaurant is my favorite show of all.

Fish Pie

She worried about what to cook for me when we came to visit her in Northern England a few years ago. Karen had been to my home in Arizona several summers, and I always cooked something from one of my cookbooks for her family.

She finally settled on fish pie, the ultimate British comfort food. I had never had fish pie before, and it was lovely – several kinds of fish and seafood bathed in an herbed white sauce, topped with golden baked mashed potatoes. It was something you served family, and Karen was telling me that she thought enough of me to serve something made with love.

My heart is heavy today, after hearing that our dear friend Karen passed away. Her cancer came back with a vengeance, taking her away much too young. She leaves behind a doting husband and a loving teenage son.

I know that she’s brightening up the afterlife with her radiant smile and kind heart. I’m so grateful that she was able to leave England in April, when it was dreary and cold, and come to Arizona to soak up the sun. She didn’t know then that the cancer was creeping back. She was looking forward to escaping again to Arizona just next week.

After years of living in sun-deprived northern England, she always looked forward to her vacations in Arizona, not even minding the triple-digit, blazing hot weather. This trip was going to be extra special, as they were going to look for a place to live, eventually moving here full-time. She was a desert girl at heart and loved the dry, hot weather.

I’ll never forget her warm, genuine hospitality, both at her home, and her trips here, always toting something “British” for me. Here is a fish pie recipe from one of the many cookbooks she gave me over the years.

Fish Pie

Serves 4-6

1 teaspoon butter
1 pound mixed fish fillets (salmon, cod, haddock)
4 ounces peeled, deveined medium shrimp
2 hard-boiled eggs, peeled and chopped
Sauce:
2 tablespoons butter
1/3 cup flour
1-1/4 cups milk (whole or 2%), warmed
2 tablespoons chopped parsley
1 tablespoon lemon juice
Salt and pepper to taste
Topping:
1-1/2 pounds leftover mashed potatoes

Heat the oven to 375 degrees. Butter a 2 quart shallow casserole dish. Cut the fish into 1-inch cubes and arrange in a single layer on the bottom of the buttered dish. Arrange the shrimp around the fish. Top with the chopped egg. Set aside while you prepare the sauce.

Melt the 2 tablespoons of butter in a saucepan over medium heat. Whisk in the flour and cook until it darkens slightly, about 3 minutes. Whisk in the warmed milk slowly to avoid lumps. Cook until just beginning to thicken, about 3 minutes. Stir in the parsley and lemon juice. Season with salt and pepper.

Pour sauce over fish, covering completely. Spoon mashed potatoes evenly over the dish. Smooth the top and then fork through a pattern, creating an uneven surface. Bake until the potato is golden brown, about 45 minutes. Remove from oven and let rest 5 or 10 minutes before serving.