There are frozen blueberries in my breakfast this morning. I froze them fresh last August. They make me think of summer. Oh how I miss summer. The long days, the high heat, and the ability to see the sunshine from about 6:30am to 11:00pm. I think winter is laughing at me, because it's snowing today and a good 10 degrees colder than freezing. Wasn't the first day of spring this past weekend or am I missing something? When will the change come? When will the day come when I don't have to wear sweat pants under my skirt, two sweaters under winter jacket and an extra pair of socks?

Change.

I have recently had a few conversations with people around the topic of change. The consensus is, it's a very scary thing. I agree. Moving from where I am, to where I want to be is a lot easier in theory than it is in practice.

I think about change all the time. Where I want to be, where I want to travel, the changes I will need to make in order to accommodate the lifestyle I want...and yet, they are all words, because I continue to sit here and do nothing about it. It seems easier. For now at least.

I have come to realize that the biggest change of all comes when a number of little steps are taken, all in the same direction. When I take one small step tomorrow that will create another step the next day, change is occurring. These small steps seem easier to deal with and I am better equipped to handle the situation - one small step at a time. I often times don't know what the next step is, or where it's going to lead me. That's ok. At least it's movement.

A colleague of mine is at a cross-roads. On the hunt for a new job, she is unhappy where she is, and hopes to find something new that will challenge her again. A couple days ago, she received a phone call for a company out west, and the fear started as well as the excuses. Everything you can imagine came forth as to why she couldn't take the job, should she get it. The change would be too great.

Fear is the tag along friend of change; Although fear isn't really a friend at all. Fear is the voice in your head that puts you down and says nasty things about you. Fear is the hold that prevents us from getting more of what we want out of life. Fear is....an opportunity to be courageous. Although fear seems to come along uninvited, it doesn't need to control or dictate my thoughts and actions. I allow fear to take that control.

I will wait for summer, as I know the earth is slowly tilting back towards the sun. Small steps, every day. Soon I won't have to eat frozen blueberries - I can eat them fresh from the container.

Me Time

I'm so happy it's Friday. It hasn't necessarily been a bad week, its just that when the weekend comes, I can breath an internal sigh of relief. I don't have to get up at a certain time, I don't have to answer to clients and/or bosses and I am free to do as I wish. Saturday and Sunday are my days for me time. It's hard during the week to give yourself medicine when there are so many people wanting your time and attention.

As a human beings, we give of ourselves every day. We give to our jobs, friends, family, stranger on the street, dog next door, guy in the elevator, ETC. and with all this continual giving, we end up feeling empty, drained (often both physically and emotionally) and exhausted. For those of us who are chronic givers (and yes, I am using chronic in the negative sense, and yes, I am a chronic giver) we often times continually give until we have a major melt down. I think I am doing the right thing, giving all the time, making everyone else happy (or so I think), but it's not making me happy. In the end, I sometimes cry for no reason, become angry and judgmental, hold grudges, pointing fingers and every other classic symptom of a temper tantrum. I ask though, is it really someone else's problem? Of course it's easier to point the finger, and place the blame somewhere else, but really, is it their fault? I would argue that, for the most part, no. Here's why: I can't give to the people around me until I have properly and wholly given to myself first. Period.

Spending time in the kitchen, creating something from scratch is my gift to myself. Call me on the weekend, and I can almost guarantee that there is either something in the over, on the stove or cooling. Me time. Medicine.

Last weekend's medicine was pizza dough. A friend came over for supper and a gab session. Pizza was on the menu. I chopped up a variety of ingredients, pulled the dough out of the freezer, and voila, instant dinner. Once you go homemade, it's extremely difficult to return to cardboard covered in plastic. Pizza is a simple food with an amazing amount of potential. Only thing limiting you is your imagination.

I made the dough beforehand and froze it into two portions. It's extremely easy, fast and a lot less work than you think. Pull the dough out of the freezer about 3 hours before you are going to eat, roll it out, smoother it in sauce and toppings and into the oven for 12 minutes at 425 degrees.


Basic Pizza Dough
Adapted from the New Best Recipe Cookbook
Makes 1 large pizza or two medium sized pizza's.

1/2 cup warm water (about 110 degrees)
2 1/4 teaspoons traditional yeast
1 1/4 cup water at room temperature
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
4 cups flour (all purpose works great)
1/2 teaspoon salt

Place warm water and yeast in a bowl and let sit for five minute. In a separate bowl, combine the flour, and salt. Add the remaining water and oil to the yeast mixture. While stirring constantly, add the water/yeast/oil mixture to the flour and stir until all ingredients are combined. If the dough seems too dry, add additional water in small increments. Similarly, if the dough seems to moist, add additional flour in small increments. Once you have the desired consistency, remove the dough from the bowl and knead by hand until the dough is a smooth elastic ball (around 10 minutes).

If you are using a mixer, start with the paddle attachment until all the ingredients are combined and have pulled away from the edges switch to the dough hook and let it work for about 5 - 7 minutes.

If you are using a food processor, pulse all ingredients (in the order listed above) until they start to pull away from the edges and form a ball, remove from the machine and knead for 10 minutes by hand.

In a slightly oiled bowl place the rounded dough. Cover first with plastic wrap, and then a tea towel, and let rest in a warm place for 2 hours, or until the dough has doubled in size. Once the dough has risen, punch it down and remove from the bowl. At this point you can either roll it or freeze it depending on your needs!

Bologna Soup and Hot pink Snow Suits

I was recently told that my first attempt at making something "real" in the kitchen came when I was about 8. My friend Kari and I decided that we were going to make soup. Nothing fancy or complicated, but rather, something simple and elegant. A soup to impress our parents, a culinary masterpiece that would leave an impression on the palettes of those who tasted it. Our method was simple. A) Pour water into pot, B) Turn on stove, C) take pieces of lunch meet, tear them and add them to the water and finally D) stir and serve. Our choice of meat was bologna, torn into huge pieces that floated near the surface. It was a proud moment for Kari and I. We served it to her parents, who, graciously ate our bologna flavoured water, and even threw in a few sound affects to appease us and our efforts. I guess you've gotta start somewhere.

Kari and I have been friends since we were both 6 months old. Our parents had put us in the same daycare and as luck would have it, we both showed up one day wearing the same snowsuit. This was around 1983/1984, so think hot pink. It was instant friendship after that. First for our parents, then us, and then our younger brothers. We enjoyed school, road trips and extra-circular activities together. Including standing on the street corner, repeatedly singing the first two lines of "Can't Touch This" (but that story is for another time).

In the 25 years that I have know Kari, we've been through it all. We joke that one day we will be sitting in our rocking chairs at the old folks home, reminiscing about the time we made her mother suffer for 8 hours on a road trip while we sang the same Little Mermaid song at the top of our lungs (again, another story for another time!)

Last night, Kari and I got together for some dinner, catch up and a marathon baking session: Banana bread, cookies and almond rocha. Not bad for a Monday night. Everything tasted amazing, and instead of using bologna as our main ingredient, we used butter. We're improving. Visible progress!

I recently read a quote from Julia Child about cooking that I thought was so perfect. In her book "My Life in France" she talks about making lunch for her friend. "We at the lunch with painful politeness and voided discussing its taste. I made sure not to apologize for it. This is a rule of mine. I don't believe in twistings yourself into knots of excuses and explanations over the food you make. When one's hostess starts in with self-deprecations such as "Oh, I don't know how to cook..." or "Poor little me..." or "This may taste aweful..." it is so dreadful to have to reassure her that everything is delicious and fine, whether or not it is. Besides, such admissions only draw attention to one's shortcomings...Usually one's cooking is better than one things it is, and if the food truely is vile, as my ersatz eggs Florentine surely were, then the cook must simple grit her teeth and beat it with a smile - and learn from her mistakes."

Simple cooking isn't hard. It's a matter of starting somewhere - even if it is (bologna flavour) soup. And for the record, should you stop by for dinner and I decided to serve you bologna soup, I'm not apologizing.

Eat or Be Eaten

I'm usually not the type of person to stay awake much past 9:30pm. It seems like I have this internal clock that tells my body it's time to shut down, and fight as I might, it's a lot of work to keep me awake. My life is centered around a steady routine: up by 5:30am, to work by 7:45am, leave work around 4:30pm, bed by 9:30pm. So being awake until 1am this past morning was a enormous shift from the "normal".

Last night I rolled into JAROblue around 6:05pm and quickly walked to the kitchen. Tables were already filling up as I arrived, and I knew that I was in for a good night. Upon arrival into the kitchen, I was promptly shown downstairs to the underbelly and given kitchen appropriate clothing. Before I had arrived, Jonas (the head chef) had found me a chef's jacket and pants that actually fit (the last time I was in, I was swimming in my jacket and tugging at my pants to keep them from riding too high!)


Kitchen culture is one that is entirely different from any other working environment that I know of. The majority of cooks are men, and being a woman in a kitchen can be a test of wills and a chance to grow a proverbial set of balls. Jokes are continually being made at someone elses expense, and failing to sling your own insults will make you the butt of every joke made. It's a game. One of wits and fast reaction times. It's very primal in it's mentality - eat or be eaten. The only way you win is to outwit the next guy. The kitchen staff at JAROblue were no different. Half the night, between making ravioli and croissants, I just laughed at the absurdity of the entire situation.


Between watching the ticker go off every 30 seconds with new bills and avoiding people as they rushed past to grab food and wine, I got to make ravioli, cheddar croissants, crackers, watch how sausage was made and eat a broken piece of chocolate cake with a spoonful of caramel sauce. That's my kind of Friday evening. Bigger than this though, I was also able to watch how a cohesive kitchen team works together, both individually and en masse to get meals out the window and onto the tables of salivating clients. There are a lot of moving parts in a kitchen and having them all come together is essential to good business and good food. Jonas and his team were a well oiled machine.


I had an awesome evening which was finished with a glass of red wine, a toast to friendship and a great big smile. I can't think of a better way to end a day. Tonight I will go to bed early. My body has already told me that 9:30pm is drawing near.

Snails Pace

"Inch by inch, it's a cinch. By the yard it's hard."

I don't know who originally said those words, but I received them this morning in a text message, and they could not be more true. Visible progress. Every day, moving towards something greater, something bigger. Too often I get weighed down by the big picture and this weight is often times 99% worry. I'm a chronic, self professed worrier, although I have made great strides in the last couple of years to put a stop to that. Why? Because 99% of the time it never comes true. 99% of the time, my fears turn into silly notions, and more often than not, I am forced to laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation that I have constructed in my mind: the scenario and the outcome. Stinkin' thinkin. It's only me that can put an end to the continuous thought feed that runs through my head.

The past couple of weeks I have felt like I am moving at a snails pace. Not even an inch. But after a while, all those small movements start to accumulate and create distance. I might have only achieved an inch in total, but it's an inch further than where I was. Visible progress. So I ask, what's your visible progress? What progress did you make today?

In my quest to figure out myself and what I want, I have decided to go spend a night in a full service, commercial kitchen. The thought of going into the cooking industry has been a niggling thought in the back of my mind. So, in order to better equip myself, I'm heading off in the depths of a restaurant kitchen. JaroBlue, located here in Calgary, is an amazing tapas restaurant located on 17th Avenue. It's great for a date, a starting point for your night or just an amazing bite to eat. This is where you will find me tonight - in the kitchen, watching and doing as I am allowed. I spent one night there before, but it was a Wednesday night and slow. Jonas, the head chef, informed me that to really get an idea of what a good night looks like, come back on a Friday. So, away I go. Pictures to come shortly!

Have a great weekend.

Being Chased by an Ogre

I have to admit that I have been a huge procrastinator lately. I'm not talking about putting one or two things off, I'm talking about ignoring projects all together. I always have a list, mental or otherwise that keeps me in check about what needs to be done. As of late, that list has gone by the wayside, and I have just turned a blind eye to all that needs to be done. I don't know what has come over me. Maybe it's the weather or the lack of motivation at work. Whatever the case may be, it's starting to spill into other area's of my life and as of this moment, I'm becoming concerned. I wish that I could blame the cold weather (today, the high is minus 25 Celsius), or the fact that work has been slow, but all these are excuses.  The real problem is...I'm lost. Not in the physical sense (I'm sitting at a computer, downtown Calgary) but in the mental/emotional sense. I work in a job that seems to be slightly less than I had anticipated it would be. Understand that I'm happy that I have a job, but this said, I got called the executive assistant yesterday, and that gave me pause for thought: Have I really turned into an EA? I'm not putting down this role in any manner, for I know that they play an integral part of certain organizations, but me, and EA? This wasn't where I saw myself 2 years ago as I graduated from University. Truth is, I really didn't have a clear vision of where I wanted to be, but I had an idea, and it isn't jiving with where I am now. 

For the last couple of months, I have been exploring a variety of possibilities regarding my career and next steps. If anyone has ever looked at the list of possible graduate programs, or the variety of career paths that exist, it's extremely easy to become overwhelmed and frustrated. And this is where you will find me. Sitting on the corner of overwhelmed and frustrated. I keep getting asked "What's your passion?", "What would you do if you had a million dollars?", "What would make you get out of bed in the morning?" The best answer, and also the most meaningless is I don't know.   My mother (God bless her) is really trying to help me find a solution. In fact, she called me at 7:25 this morning, while I was sitting on a crowded train, to tell me about her latest idea. The feedback is helpful (sometimes) but I honestly believe that unless I find something for myself, it's going to be all for someone else, and I won't find happiness in that either.  

So, where do I go from here? I don't want to be in the same position in the next 5 years. Heck, I don't want to be in this position a year from now. So, I have set a timeline, so that I don't get paralysis by analysis. By May 4, I am picking something and sticking with it. Even if it turns out that in 5 years I hate what I am doing, at least I did something and moved. At least I had the courage to change my state, my situation and my frame of mind. I don't want to become too cynical about life before I reach 30. That will only add wrinkles and unwanted stress lines. 

For today, I'm going to start by knocking off something small on my to-do list. Maybe this will give me the much needed boost of energy and momentum to keep moving forward and to help stave off the ever creeping procrastination ogre. 

These are a Few of My Favorite Things

I love date night. In fact, it’s the one night a week that I really look forward to. Don’t get me wrong, I love my weekends - hanging out with friends and perfecting the art of doing nothing, but date night is the night where I know where I will be and what I will be doing. Last night was date night. Chris had been baiting me for almost a week with his dinner surprise. For almost a week prior to yesterday, I got periodic emails with cryptic questions and hints. “Do you have a large baking pan and flour?” “You’ll like it. It involves Gruyere cheese.” Intrigued and slightly nosey, I valiantly tried to get the answer out of Chris. No luck. It was all worth the wait though when he unveiled the piece de résistance: The ultimate version of homemade Macaroni and Cheese. If you have never made the homemade kind, I would suggest you abort all other thoughts of what you were thinking about making for dinner tonight and make this perfect comfort food. Not only did it contain bacon, but three types of cheese and the perfect nutmeg/roasted garlic sauce. Although it took longer to make than we had originally thought (almost 2 hours) the wait was well worth it. The combination of all three cheeses – Gruyere, cheddar and Parmesan - set against a hint of roasted garlic and nutmeg made for an outstanding flavour combination. I wish I could say that I got my hands dirty and helped to make this masterpiece, but alas, I only viewed from the living room. I did, however, occasionally sneak into the kitchen and help myself to a handful of cheese or cooked pasta.

I would like to propose a toast to Chris; For sending my taste buds into a heavenly state and for taking two of my favorite foods (garlic and Gruyere Cheese) and creating something divine.

Best Mac ‘n’ Cheese Ever from Laura Macek
Adapted from Emeril’s Best Mac ‘n’ Cheese Challenge

Ingredients:

• 1 head of garlic, roasted
• 1 teaspoon olive oil
• 1 pound Cavatappi pasta
• ½ pound sliced Applewood smoked bacon (optional)
• 1 ½ cups fresh white bread crumbs (5 slices, crusts removed)
• ½ cup grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese
• 8 tablespoons butter
• ¼ cup minced shallots
• ½ cup flour
• 1 quart whole milk
• 6 ounces Gruyere cheese, grated
• 8 ounces extra-sharp Cheddar cheese, grated
• ½ teaspoon pepper
• 1 teaspoon salt
• ¼ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

Directions

• Roast garlic at 350°: Slice ½ inch off the top of the entire head of garlic. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Wrap garlic head tightly in a square of heavy foil and roast until tender about 45 minutes. Remove garlic pulp by squeezing garlic head. Smash cloves with a fork to form a paste.
• Cook pasta according to package directions.
• Cook bacon completely. Drain on paper towels. Reserve 1 tablespoon of bacon fat. Crumble bacon when cool.

Topping

• Combine breadcrumbs, crumbled bacon, Parmigiano Reggiano cheese, and 2 tablespoons of melted butter. Set aside.

Sauce

• Preheat oven to 375°.
• Sauté shallots over low heat in reserved bacon fat for one minute. Add remaining 6 tablespoons of butter and continue to sauté shallots in butter and bacon fat until translucent. If you aren’t using bacon in your dish, just add an additional tablespoon of butter.
• Add flour and continue to cook for 1-2 minutes. Increase heat to medium. Stirring constantly with a whisk, add milk and roasted garlic paste.
• Cook until sauce is thickened. You will know when it's ready when you can coats the back of a spoon. Remove sauce from heat then add salt, pepper, nutmeg, Gruyere and Cheddar cheeses. Taste and adjust salt and pepper if necessary.

Assembly

• Stir in cooked pasta. Pour into baking dish. Sprinkle topping to cover entire top. Cover with foil and bake 15 minutes. Remove foil and continue baking until sauce is bubbly and topping is browned.

Humble Beginnings

I want this to be perfect. There is some part of me that is resisting this whole blog writing thing, and yet, a greater part of me is saying “just do it”. As of right now, the “just do it” part is taking over. Maybe it’s fear. Fear of no one wanting to read my blog or fear of sounding like a fool. Maybe I just need to step out in faith and hope that things will work out as they are supposed to.

I feel like 2009 is going to be a big year for me. I feel like I have been sitting stagnant for far too long and it’s time for something to change. It’s time for me to change.

For as long as I can remember, I've always wanted to write about my photography, my travels and my adventures in the kitchen. This seems like a great place to start. Seeing that I am an avid cook, photographer and worldly traveler, its about time I started to write about my adventures. And trust me, there have been many.

So, I am just going to do it. No better time than the present.