In the paper this morning, on the front page, was the big news about finally finding Abby Sunderland, the 16 year old girl that was allowed to attempt to set a new world record for being the youngest person (ever) to go around the world on a 40-foot sailboat (ALONE!)–in what proved to be treacherous (extremely life-threatening) conditions (duh). Her brother had done it at 17–and you know what sibling rivalry does… 16 became the number that would beat her brother–What if instead of finally being located–if she had gotten irrevocably swallowed up by one of those 50 foot waves? Is that what it would take for her parents to be charged with child endangerment? I doubt it. Who’s idea was this anyway?? Oh, that’s right–it was Abby’s passion for sailing (and for beating her brother’s record)–I guess that makes it all OK.

Two pages later, there was an article about a 2-year old baby boy that was taught (by his father!) to chain-smoke cigarettes and, in this article, the father was boasting about how he had gotten the boy to “cut back” from two-packs to just a mere 10 cigarettes per day! If I hadn’t seen a video of this baby smoking like an out-of-control fiend (on a TV news show), I wouldn’t have believed that this was possible!  (Did I mention that this baby is also clinically obese?)

On the next page was an article about a 12 year old girl who was left home alone for a week because her mother decided to get married and go on a honeymoon (sans her child)! At least this woman was locked up and is being held on $100,000 bail.

Has this world gone crazy? Has the word “parent” totally lost it’s meaning? Listen, I’ve raised three kids–and several dogs–and, just this morning on my walk with Mango, while she was on a leash, we met another dog who was also on a leash. The dogs were pulling, twirling, sniffing, snorting–pleading to be set free to play–Did I and the owner of the other dog look at each other with empathy and compassion for how our dogs felt? –Of course. Did we ever doubt that there was anything but the purest of intentions to their desires? No. Did we also know that if we let them off leash, that they could run into the street and get injured by a moving vehicle? Yes.

So what happens? Do we, as dog owners, decide to throw caution to the wind, remove their leashes and just hope for the best?

Do we, as parents, allow our children’s desires to outweigh our first job–which is to protect them? I think not.  I hate to use a dog example, but I think there are a lot of parents (and pet owners) out there that need to wake up! Abby S. is a very lucky young lady, despite her parent’s lack of back-bone. There should be laws that protect children from an ineffective parent–She should have never been legally allowed to take this trip alone. (And these parents have an 11 and 12-year old at home and they’re already “accepting” that these kids might make this same attempt… Help!)

And, all I can say about the big, fat smoking baby is that his parents should be arrested and locked up (for a long time) for child abuse.

All three of these stories are examples of how people are actually able to live with themselves after blatently disregarding the most consequential job given to humanity: Parenting. It’s just horrifying.

Tags: Abby Sunderland, bad parenting, child abuse, children left home alone, children's rights, effective parenting, home alone, parental rights, Parenting, smoking baby boy

Comments (11)

Jon, my husband, has always been my muse.  He says things that make me laugh, he provokes me to wonder, to debate, to investigate and, once I officially solidify my thoughts, his supportive nature makes me brave enough to share those thoughts with the world. I’m inspired by his calmness and also by his ability to take a passionate stand. I’m continually surprised by his unique combination of incredible strength, intellectual smarts and AND an ironic inner innocence–this sweet desire to trust, when there’s so much (everywhere) to instigate wariness.

Like just the other day–We were at the airport going to Florida to celebrate my father-in-law’s 89th birthday and Jon says to me “Lauren, do you think they’re going to give us something good for lunch on the plane?” I said …”Jon, they just made us pay $20 extra for each piece of luggage…Do you really think they’re going to “give” us lunch??”

And– when I see Jon eating fruits and vegetables without necessarily washing them first–just “because” they’re labeled “ORGANIC! (Of course, this always drives me crazy…)

Just like when a mother sees a child about to put a dirty grape into their mouth –I immediately feel my adrenals kick in, wanting to protect my husband– So, I’ll blurt “Jon, wash that!” His reply? “Why? It’s organic.” (“Oy vey,” I always say…)

Listen, if you (who are reading this) are anything like Jon–please hear this! Even if you buy vegetables and fruit from a store that swears up and down, all about the purity of the soil used to grow their wares, this has NOTHING to do with the need to wash things before you eat them.  The word “organic” simply indicates that those doing the growing had a certain level of both consciousness and conscientiousness, which is good (very good, indeed!), but that’s ALL it means.

Here are some things that the word “organic” DOES NOT address: The personal hygiene of the people doing the harvesting and packaging, the cleanliness of the floor of the farm-facility (or of the truck) that transports a crop–AND, it also doesn’t relay any information about the integrity of the destination (the place where you’ll make your purchase). And, even if the place is pristine, there is NO WAY to know if, five minutes ago, a person who was standing where you’re standing now was wearing shoes that have remnants of lovely things like dog poop– And, what happens if this person drops a gorgeous head of organic lettuce on the floor–and this person (with the dirty shoes) puts back that head of lettuce to get one that didn’t fall on the floor… (You get the picture).

My apparent paranoia is not unfounded. I’ve been in well-respected “gourmet” shops and have seen merchants place a seeping package of raw pork directly on top of a batch of fresh muffins (unwrapped muffins!)–I’ve seen freshly roasted chickens, sitting out in the open where customers have coughed and/or sneezed directly on top of them and then just walked away–totally oblivious. I’ve seen tubs of peeled garlic fall on the floor, sending the little nuggets all over a dirty floor and then watched, as the shop-keeper simply scooped them up and dropped them right back into their container. Oh, I’ve seen a LOT, trust me.

The point: Although, at times, I do admit that it would be nice to be more like Jon and just assume that produce labeled organic guarantees that it’s spanking clean and ready to meet and greet one’s saliva, I truly don’t suggest it–I do love, though, having a partner that continually keeps my head and heart fully engaged. I guess that’s what having a muse is all about…Laur

Comments (6)

So sorry I haven’t written sooner but you might have gathered from my past blogs, that I’m not the type to just slap something together…And, after getting back from Spain, trying to get my house up and running…Then with the snow, the kids all coming home AND with work, I’ve been unable to finish this–So, before our fabulous trip to Spain becomes a faint memory (and now that my duck confit has just come off the stove…), I’ve decided that TODAY IS THE DAY that I will finally tell you all about our delicious trip. First of all, going to Barcelona to celebrate my birthday sure beats me having to make myself an ice cream cake!

This was our first time in Spain and, being determined to do and see as much as possible, Jon and I really hit the ground running! 

Our flight arrived in Barcelona at 7:30 am...Here, we're in a taxi, headed for the city. The sun was just rising. I was so excited to be in Spain!

We were starving when we arrived at the hotel so we headed straight for the dining room, where there was a breakfast buffet… As soon as I saw the spread of food, I immediately thought of the three things everyone said to us before going to Barcelona…

1) “I hope you like pork!”…

2) “I hope you like shellfish!” …

3) And, “ I hope you’re prepared to eat meals LATE–Much later than you’re both used to!” (Those who know Jon and I know that we live like farmers…we’re up early and in bed early…and we eat somewhere in the middle.)

Boy, they weren’t kidding… on all counts!

After breakfast we headed out, to the famous food market called ”Mercat de la Boqueria” and I must say that it was THE most amazing market I’ve ever been to, anywhere (and I’m a girl that’s been to a lot of food markets…). First of all, it was huge!–And stuffed from one end to the other with an incredible array of gorgeous fresh foods of all kinds and of wonderful quality. Although pictures will never adequately represent the awesomeness of this market, take a look…

Let’s start with pork.

There were many merchants selling all kinds and cuts of cured and fresh pork products. I fell in LOVE with the Spanish version of prosciutto–truly the best I’ve ever eaten. Like in Italy, Spanish dry-cured ham comes in different grades, noted in their prices…

Although it’s hard to read in the photo above, you’ll see the word “Ibeirc” (jambó ibérico), also called “pata negra” which is a type of dry-cured ham that’s only produced in Spain. And, the best of the best is sliced from the hind leg of black Iberian pigs that were fed a strict diet of only acorns.  ( To purchase fine Spanish dry-cured ham online, click here.) But there are many more pork products sold at this market. Actually every part of the pig is enjoyed.

I know–it’s hard to see a pig’s head in a meat-case, but this guy (or gal) above is actually one of the lucky ones for getting to grow into a bigger pig! In Spain, animals are offered VERY young; much younger than those we can get in the US (and even younger than those eaten in France).

Here’s a suckling pig (among other things…), all cleaned and ready for purchase.

There’s also baby goat…

 Although the name for a baby goat is “kid”…When I showed my daughter Jessie this picture, saying ” this is a baby kid”..she looked at me with such a horrified expression that I think I’ll just stick to saying  ”baby goat.” 

The vegetables were just gorgeous and SO abundant! I never saw so many mushrooms, called “Rovellons.”

These (above) are huge porcini mushrooms.

These (above) were one of the most abundant kinds of mushrooms sold…not sure what their name is. They looked a bit like shiitakes but had green spots and streaks running through their gills.  The edges of the caps were also a bit curled.

See…I told you there were a lOT of them! This was clearly mushroom season in Barcelona!

There were many stalls with piles of fresh eggs…

And, not just eggs from chickens. There were all kinds, like duck and quail eggs and even big, dark blue Emu and Ostrich eggs !

Although all the signs at the market describing the foods were, of course, written in Spanish, I found it amusing that here, the sign saying  “Don’t Touch” was written first in English –before the Spanish translation. Good thing, since I (as a typical touchy-feely American) was just about to lift and shake one of those blue Emu eggs!!

Here’s a rainbow-like assortment of  fresh fruit juices…

and lots of candy…

But what finally got us really hungry was the fresh fish! Tons of all kinds of fish…and what was SO amazing was that, although being a fish-monger (in the US) is a man’s job, here at the “Mercat de la Boqueria”  almost all of the fish mongers were women (and they were wielding some crazy-big knives)!

Here’s a woman filleting anchovies by-hand. She worked so incredibly fast and, was so adept, that she often didn’t even look down, while working.

There were tons of fresh fish stalls …

They sold EVERY part of the fish. Even…

Fish eyes for sale! (Ew...)

And, the shellfish display was amazing…

Gorgeous scallops in their shell.

Fresh stone crabs!

A bunch of razor clams.

By now, Jon and I were ready to eat and would soon experience our first bit of drama (remember, we had only been in Barcelona a few hours…). So, hungry and straddled between US and Spanish time-zones, we sat down at a “counter” type of seafood restaurant that was positioned right smack in the middle of this open market (there were many such restaurants) where everything is prepared in front of you and, to eat, people sit on raised stools, while getting to watch their food cook.  (Such fun…until)

So, we ordered and, as we often do, we  shared …

Langostines and razor clams...

In addition to the above, we also ordered a whole fish (small and white-fleshed), butterflied and pan-seared…Really good.

So: It was only 11:30 am (!) and there we were, eating freshly prepared, delicious food and drinking yummy Spanish wine! (Quite different from our usual suburban mid-morning existence.) We were incredibly happy and already feeling in the groove of being in Spain.

After lunch, we continued on our brisk walk through the streets of Barcelona–and happened to fine another food market almost as amazing as the first. All of a sudden, as we were traipsing  around, trying to penetrate the crowds of people in the market,  my neck started to itch. I stayed quiet about it–thinking it was just my scarf that was irritating my skin. After about 15 minutes, I started to itch on my cheeks and behind my ears…my back was getting itchy, too.  I turned to Jon and said “can you just take a look at me?–I’m itching.” Well, that was it. He said “you have hives all over your face and neck!”

Hmmm…I (we) immediately knew the culprit…

We both panicked–Remembering that ONE TIME (years ago). It all came rushing back.

Although I eat tons of shellfish (of all kinds), years ago, we were at a wedding and, after drinking white wine, eating crab claws and after I danced up a storm, I ended up in the emergency room of a Long Island hospital. Seems I have this very odd allergy to certain types of shell fish –but ONLY when I drink white wine combined with certain types of strenuous or stressful situations (like dancing and, I guess (now), walking briskly in a different country, after being up all night–and then eating and drinking at 11 am…. (Weird, I know…)

So… because I was far away from home (and so frightened that I might end up looking like this)…

We hurried back to the hotel and asked to quickly see a doctor, which I did. (Doctors still make house-calls, in Barcelona!).  The only thing is, he didn’t speak English and I don’t speak Spanish or Catalan.  Thankfully, we had a date to meet Remy, our guide, to discuss what we were going to do for our week in Barcelona. Her eventual presence (and her ability to translate) really helped me to trust a man that I couldn’t communicate with. Having said this, I did need to let him give me a shot AND a pill BEFORE Remy showed up…(Believe me, with three kids and a dog that depended on me, back in the US, this was all very scary.) Anyway, miraculously, the medication worked and although completely exhausted, I had survived my first health-hurdle of the trip. 

Jon and I took a long afternoon siesta, then showered and went out to for a 9:30 pm dinner, which we loved. (We were feeling so– Spanish!)

About the restaurants we experienced: Although we had lots of amazing food that we adored,  I’m not going to give you a blow-by-blow on all of the meals we had in Barcelona, but I will tell you about my favorite meal– One that I can honestly say was the best meal of my life!

(I will, at the bottom of this post, create a list with all the names and contact information for all the restaurants we enjoyed as well as the sites I feel you shouldn’t miss. That way you can just copy and paste that part onto a Word document.)

Oh…just to conclude on those remaining health issues…

During the one week we spent in Spain, in addition to the described allergic reaction, two days into our trip, Jon caught a very violent stomach flu, which I (two days later) proceeded to catch from him. So, in between the days and nights we each were (literally) confined to bed, sipping ginger ale and nibbling on plain white toast with jelly (I quickly learned NOT to ask for “jam” because,  the word “jam” sounds way too much like jamón, which means “ham” in Spanish (oy vey!)– Believe it or not, we had plenty of time to recover and resume our traisping, eating amazing food and drinking wonderful wine.  (But, during this trip, there was no more shellfish for me!)

OK, about the BEST meal of my life!…At: Restaurant Can Pineda (Sant Joan De Malta, 55 Barcelona Tel: 34-0-93-308-3081)

The location of this restaurant is not easy to find (even by a taxi driver who’s a native of Barcelona!) and it’s not a place that you’d just “find” by taking a walk–it’s on some obscure corner, alone, without shops around it so you’d really have to have heard about it to make it a destination. Whether or not this was a part of why I came away from this restaurant with such an extra-ordinary feeling, I don’t know but I DO know that the food Jon and I experienced felt like an enormous (and fabulous) treat.

This was our second dinner in Barcelona–the first, as you now know, I was recovering from an allergic reaction, so this was really my first night that I felt like “me.” It was about 9:45 pm (we were a bit late for our 9:30 reservation because the taxi driver had trouble finding the address on a map). We walked into the restaurant and, right away, I thought to myself “oh boy, this is going to be less than I hoped for”…the lighting was nothing special (bright–which I tend to not love, especially at dinnertime. I like it dim and candle-lit). The place itself was very simple–nothing at all special to look at and the blue and white ceramic back-splash behind the bar seemed almost Dutch-like–as opposed to whatever I thought would reflect Spanish decor. (To learn more about Catalan culture and cuisine, click here and to purchase authentic ingredients, click here.)

So, resolved to have a so-so meal, we were brought to our table which was in the smoking section. (We didn’t know to ask for a nonsmoking table–but, in retrospect, I wouldn’t have changed a thing–Having said that, if it’s an issue for you, just know that people are even allowed to smoke cigars in this restaurant, so you might want to remember that when you make your reservation…). Just as I was about to sit down, I glanced towards the table to my right and saw two people eating something that made me immediately put on my glasses. They each had before them a bowl with golden strands of fresh pasta that had, perched on top, a pile of thinly sliced WHITE TRUFFLES!!! I looked at Jon and said…”Honey…do you think they’re eating what I think they’re eating?” He said, “I think so…” At that moment, I knew that this night would be filled with edible surprises…and, trust me, it was.

We had an adorable waitress who spoke very broken English (which we were VERY grateful for) and I pointed to what the couple next to us was eating and she nodded “yes” to what I thought they were eating. When she saw my eyes light up (at the mere mention of truffles), she shook her head ”no” to what they were eating and and then pointed to something on the menu that she pretty-much insisted I have. At this moment, after seeing that she understood that white truffles make me extremely happy, I totally relinquished all power to this young woman–trusting her to order my entire meal, along with all the different Spanish wines we enjoyed, by the glass (which was a very good thing, indeed). 

My first course:

A white, oblong plate was placed in front of me. (Did you ever see something edible that made you audibly gasp? Well, my first course arrived and, even before taking a bite, I felt almost dizzy with the anticipation of pure pleasure.) On this plate were two perfectly cooked poached eggs and, each one was sitting on top of a very small mount of what I think was whipped potatoes–but they were a bit more toothsome–almost as if  the creamy potatoes where mixed with some gently simmered grits. AND, on top of each egg was a pile of you-know-what –WHITE TRUFFLES!!  Oh, I’m not done describing this masterpiece….Also on the plate, on the side of each egg, was an sublime slice of seared fois (duck liver)–Can you imagine?? The seasoning was perfect–just a very light dusting of exquisite sea salt–I tell you–this dish was beyond, beyond, beyond! Actually, my food was so good that I can’t even fully recollect what my husband ate–I know it was something high in omegas (either sardines, anchovies or herring–since those foods are, to Jon, what poached eggs, truffles and seared fois is to me).

We shared a second course…

A combination of deeply caramelized fresh mushrooms, flecked with sauteed onions, garlic and studded with lots of small, succulent nuggets of cooked monkfish. The sauce was savory and light, yet sturdy enough to hug each member of the plate. Another winner!

The simple ambiance in this restaurant combined with the level of culinary savvy showed by the chef, along with the warmth of everyone around us, kept Jon and my senses reeling. We were in pig-heaven.

Speaking of pig, our third course arrived (we both were presented with the same dish)… 

Although I was sure that nothing could compare to what I had already eaten, this next course had Jon and I positively giggling like children–no joke. Let me see if I can do this dish justice… On a plate was a golden brown wedge of something that, at first glace, looked like a triangular shaped, 1-inch thick potato galette. Jon and I both used our fork to cut into this and, as we were chewing, that’s when Jon and I started to laugh, as if to say “how is it possible that this meal just keeps getting better??!” 

I noticed the waitress looking in our direction–No doubt she found it fun to watch us so visibly happy. She came to our table wanting to offer any information that she could about what we were eating. She said “pig” and held her hands  in front of her, about one-foot apart, to convey that our dish was made using a very young specimen.  She also wanted us to understand that the chef initially cooked this pig low and slow–and that then, the suckling pig meat was “pulled” and place in between two layers of pig skin–which was then seared and rendered amazingly crisp on both the top and bottom, with an interior that remained incredibly succulent. This was then cut into wedges and served with an intenselyflavored side-puddle of  a burgundy-red, glaze-like sauce that was savory-fruity and perfectly acidic. Although I noticed there were a few roast potatoes sitting to the side of the plate, I chose to save every inch of what was left of my capacity to take in food, for the most amazing pork dish I have ever eaten.  

It was like we had stumbled into this candy-coated land, only the treats offered gave us a very different kind of “high”… So, not wanting to ruin the perfection of how we felt, we declined ordering dessert.

That doesn’t mean that we didn’t have dessert…

We asked for the check and for a taxi. The waitress came back to the table and, instead of bringing the bill, she held a tray with two glasses and two bottles of dessert wine, one white and one red. She poured the white wine into Jon’s glass and, although that one was delish, I was the LUCKY recipient of the red one that was bursting with the flavor of dark cherries. (Again, another best–I had never had a red dessert wine that was so rich-so silky–so very delicious (on the bottle, it said: La Bota De Pedro Ximenez).  Trust me, I could have drank several more glasses of this–they left both bottles on the table but I restrained myself.  

Then, the wife of the chef came to our table with a small, rectangular wooden plate. On the plate were two nuggets, each about 1 1/2 inches long by 1 inch wide and, on the outside, was a flaky (puff) pastry that was dusted with bit of powdered sugar. She, not speaking English, instructed us by motioning, to eat the pastry in one-bite. I “got” that this was imperative (funny how certain things are just understood, no matter what language is spoken.) So, she proceeded to walk away from the table and, just as we each put the pastry into our mouths, she (like clockwork) turned and look straight at me (it was clear that she wanted to see see us experience this pastry in exactly the way the chef intended…). Jon and I, in concert, closed our mouth around this flaky nugget and bit down. That’s when two distinctly different textures burst into our mouths–one was soft, light, creamy and perfumed with vanilla (pastry cream). The  other was just a bit more weighty, very velvety and unctuous (melted bittersweet ganache). And, as my eyes turned from the chef’s wife to  Jon’s face,  for the first time in my life, something edible literally brought tears to my eyes–it was that good.   

The chef appeared…

A very simple-looking man, dressed in traditional chef’s garb (white coat and checkered pants), came out of the kitchen to greet his customers. As he came close to our table, I lept to my feet and pretty-much threw my arms around him and started to babble about how happy I was to have had this meal and about how wonderful he is, as a chef. (Although he, like his wife, didn’t speak English, happiness seems to be a universal language…)

So, after kisses, hugs (even to the waitress) and saying good-night to those at the table next to us, we slipped into our taxi and spoke nonstop about this very special experience, all the way back to the hotel.

We loved this time away in Spain– even though many parts were quite unexpectedly eventful. And, although considered “off season,” I think late fall is the perfect time to go to Barcelona (and not just because it was my birthday). The streets, shops and restaurants were much less crowded and, unlike the heat of summer, the temperature was very comfortable. I hope you’ll let me know if you go and if you love it as much as we did!

Most of the meals we had were in restaurants that specialized in Catalan cuisine and didn’t get to go to many of the tapas places we had on our list.  Here is a list of the restaurants we really enjoyed and also some sites to see, in Barcelona. 

First: I want to turn you on to our guide, Remy, who is extremely nice, knowledgeable and passionate (especially when it comes to art.)

Our Guide: Remedios Gimenez: Fluent languages: Spanish, Catalan, English, German and Japanese

email: remy2001es@yahoo.es Tel: 3493 321 43 28, Mobile: 609 159 594

Restaurants in Barcelona:

Can Pineda: Sant Joan De Malta, 55 Tel: 93 308 30 81: The best meal of my life (If you haven’t already, read above to find out why!!)

Maria Cristina: Provena, 271 Tel: 93 215-32-37: This was our first dinner in Barcelona. Unfortunately, even at 9:30 pm, the restaurant was pretty quiet, which was such a shame because the food was amazing! I had (first) a wonderful fois terrine with a salad and then a fabulous dish of slow-roast baby goat in a cava wine sauce (Cava is the Spanish version of Champagne.) Jon had oysters (which, in retrospect, he felt was a silly choice since you can get oysters anywhere…).  He had monkfish with green lentils for his main course, which he adored.

Casa Leopoldo: Sant Rafael, 24 Tel: 93 441 30 14: We had lunch here and it was wonderful. Filled with locals, the menu here is really down and dirty–meaning you’ll find dishes like “pig trotters stew” (which we had and I can’t say that this was my favorite part of the meal…) We had great “pan con tomate” (a very popular accompaniment to meals: toasted bread, rubbed with garlic and fresh tomato), fish, rovellons, salad–and that pig’s trotters stew (ew).   I found this place to be warm and authentic.

Butafumerio: Gran de Gràcia, 81 Tel: 93 218 42 30: This restaurant, that specializes in seafood, is large and, at first glance, seems a bit touristy. We had great fish that was impeccably fresh.  We went here for dinner. 

Can Ravell: Aragó, 313 Tel: 93 457 51 14: This is one restaurant that you would never know is there if not told to seek it out. That’s why you’ll only see “locals” dining there. Only open for lunch, this special restaurant is on the top of a small, family-owned sausage and cheese shop. Actually, you have to go through a door at the back of the shop, then traipse through the kitchen, then you’ll need to walk up two flights on a thin, winding staircase where you’ll finally find the restaurant. A beautiful room, with walls whimsically lined with loads of all kinds of Scotch bottles on one side and wine on the other.  The long, communal tables mean that everyone all sit and eat together. This is a really fun place to experience. Just know it’s only open for lunch and the menu is VERY rich.

Day trip to Girona, Spain: We traveled one hour north of Barcelona (by train) to the city of Girona. I highly recommend doing this. The city is ancient, charming and educational.

Lunch in Girona: Cal Ros: Cort Reial N 9, Girona: Tel: 97 221 91 76: What a wonderful find!! This lovely, family owned restaurant, had amazing food and a soothing, yet ”fine” atmostphere. Upon entering, we saw the wife of the chef sitting at a desk in the front of the restaurant (and her new-born baby was sleeping in his carriage). The BIG portions of food here have equally BIG flavors and we loved everything we ate. Jon’s anchovies were the best we both have ever had and the crisp, round fritters made with salt cod and whipped potatoes were incredibly good. Our main dishes were succulent and satisfying…but what really thrilled us was seeing those at another table eating! An older couple, slurping on garlicky snails…and then on huge braised crabs with pasta, all with such gusto! If you go to Girona, you MUST go to this restaurant for lunch or dinner.

Other than simply walking around and enjoying the beautiful city, here are a couple of sites to see in Barcelona:

La Pedrera of Caixa Catalunya (The Gaudi Museum): Provença, 261 Tel: 902 202 138 You will also be able to see Antoni Gaudi’s very unique style of architecture, simply by walking on the streets of Barcelona!

Museu Picasso (Picasso Museum):Montcada, 15-23 (www.museupicasso.bcn.cat ) Tel: 93 256 30 00

While in Girona: Museu d’Història dels Jueus (a facinating Jewish Museum): Forςa, 8 (www.girona.cat/call ) Tel: 972 21 67 61 (admission is free on the first Sunday of each month.)

Tags: barcelona, Barcelona city, Barcelona restaurants, food market in Barcelona, Gaudi Museum, Girona, Mercat de la Boqueria, Picasso Museum, places to go in Barcelona, Restaurant Can Pineda, Restaurants in Girona, spain

Comments (1)

I’m baackkk!! The flu finally left (good riddens…) and I am back, feeling as feisty as ever. While sick, I would collect articles from the newspaper–stories that would normally rile me up to take a stand, but I was too sick to type about it. Oh, I’ve been collecting articles for years; first, for my weekly talk-radio show “Food, Family and Home Matters” and then for the self-mastery course I teach in jail (on Rikers Island), to adolescent guys and girls.

Regardless of the audience, the reason for clipping and collecting articles was (and is) always to help highlight timely issues that I feel are pertinent and able to be used to drive home a point.

This past week, I cut out an article that made me think about what it means to really love someone; specifically a parent and child.

Although I’ve tried to turn away from reading about the plight of Lindsay Lohan, I will admit that I finally succumbed and read the most recent article all about Lindsay and her father. The article was all about how Michael Lohan, hoping that his daughter would finally get help with her well-documented (public and private) self-destructive choices, he apparently taped conversations with her and made them public. He says he did this because he felt this was the only viable way to keep her from slipping away forever. Lindsay, of course, became crazed by this, flinging all sorts of insults and accusations at her father in addition to filing for a legal restraining order and also to try to prevent her father from speaking about Lindsay in public.

Here’s my take...

Lindsay Lohan is clearly emotionally damaged and has become both a public and private mess. She’s stuck (like standing in quick-sand) in a blaming, victim-mentality that she uses to fuel her dangerously self-sabotaging behavior. And, although, I will admit, it might be hard to take when a father reveals something private about a child to the public–But, when a parent in this kind of situation needs to make a choice–after understanding the severity of the problem (and the possible consequences involved) –Is he (any parent) really supposed to care if a kid feels betrayed? Put another way–would you ask a person (anyone) what color life jacket they would prefer when you find them gurgling in dark, turbulent water??

I’ll tell you this: As a parent, I would do anything to help save my children– even if doing so made them so angry that they would never see or speak to me again. To me, that’s real love.

The act of showing love (especially by a parent to a child) isn’t always pretty or neat or about chocolate and roses but it IS about having an unwavering commitment to “do” the things that embody the authentic essence of honest devotion.

Lindsay’s problems are public because she, in her everyday choices, has become the major force in creating her own realtiy–And, although her sense of self (or lack-there-of) is the result of a culmination of many historic events and relationships she, as a “now adult,” holds the power to make daily, moment to moment choices. If these choices prove life-threatening, then those around her have the right and the obligation to help her to help herself.

No matter what flaws Michael Lohan had or has, as a person and/or as a father, he’s obviously had a wake-up call and sees that that the only way to get his daughter to understand the severity (and potentially catastrophic consequences) of her actions is to play ball in the way (and place) that will hopefully get her attention–which seems to be in a public arena.

And, you know what? Even if his motivations were from a neurotic, self-serving place, it doesn’t matter because the only thing that does matter is that Lindsay gets the help to hopefully find her way back. In the end, it will all be her choice.

The Point: With all the (VERY) public evidence of what can happen to a person when deeply involved with drugs, it’s a parent’s right to do what they can to help save their child. No matter what.

Tags: Lindsay Lohan, Michael Lohan, parenting children on drug use, teenage drug use

Comments (0)

There was an article in a recent Sunday New York Times, written by Jodi Rudoren, that really bothered me. In this article, front and center, was a picture, a caricature depicting a “slice of life” in this writer’s home, at dinnertime. Although the author of this article succeeded at conveying her personal frustration, her claim to know what the American home cook really wants to see on TV is, I feel, presumptuous and ultimately incorrect. I say this from what I know, in a first hand way, as a professional cooking/baking teacher, a devoted wife and mother who’s raised three kids and also as a very dedicated home-cooking enthusiast.

First, let’s talk a bit about this caricature….

In the background are three people, two kids and one husband and the dad’s in the middle. These three people are sitting in a line, at a counter, and in front of them are three very empty dinner-sized plates. These three human gems were staring (actually glaring) at the (supposedly) most important woman in their life, dear old Mom (who’s not old at all but she sure looks famished (no, not hungry…this is a Yiddish word that means totally stressed..).

Mom, who’s draped in a chef’s jacket (why, I don’t know), is standing a few feet away from her family, in front of a cutting board manning a way-too professional looking chef’s knife, especially given the way her lip is curled, her hair is dangling and her eyes are looking up and back as if to plead “Calgone take me awaaaaaay!.” This was clearly no chef–she seemed to really dislike cooking. Actually, this picture conveyed a woman who seemed uncomfortable with her life at home, in general. Unlike some working women who actually enjoy being able to claim “I can bring home the bacon and still fry it up in a pan,” in this article, to this mom, cooking leaves her feeling like a “poor-me,” worn-out maid. Boy…Thanksgiving at her house must be really fun…

The picture in this article also makes it obvious that her unhelpful and unappreciative family members fuel her discontent and, to me, it’s this dynamic that seems to be at the real root of the author’s snarl. To read both, her complaints and desires about food-TV, she’s clearly not looking to become a better cook by watching these programs and, instead, seems to be looking for a way to simply commiserate with others either in her same unsupportive-family predicament or with those who have it worse. Perverse voyeurism seems to have replaced “self-help” content on television. What a shame.

When did real learning stop being considered “entertaining?” I’ll tell you when, when “reality TV” was born! Seems it’s no longer enough to use Food-TV time (especially at night) to simply teach and learn valuable, usable skills; today’s viewers have become addicted to seeing those at the helm of many of these shows squirm their way out of a real jam–I guess this makes the viewer feel better about their own lot, if only for a little while.

In this article, the author (obviously the mother in this scenario) is whining about the “unreal” way reality (specifically competitive) food TV shows portray “real-life” home-cooking…as if that’s supposed to be their mission. Irked by how every time she and her hubby lay like lumps on the couch watching TV cooking shows like “Top Chef” the reality depicted doesn’t speak to her own (which is that of a seemingly unhappy person who’s hero is admittedly Bree Van De Kamp, the character depicting a highly neurotic hostess with an inappropriately lopsided relationship with her work (just one of her gazillion character flaws) on “Desperate Housewives,” the hit show that gives frustrated women a real vicarious romp. (No doubt this show has been translated into many, many languages…)

Meanwhile, although the author made lots of snide (OK, some were comical) comments, listing the reasons why she dislikes this show (Top Chef) …. not only does she make it her buisness to religiously watch these shows on DVD (she actually recited the detailed contents of several seasons worth of episodes) but she also invests the cerebral muscle that she claims not to have to get things together for her family at dinnertime, to publicly diss a show that clearly doesn’t pretend to have anything to do with “real” home cooking.

What does the author say she wants? She wants to see a “real” reality show…one that (and I quote) “instead of showing a stocked Top Chef pantry, they would show the same participants perusing refrigerators and cabinets with the same crusty condiment bottles and stale spice racks that were in their homes on the day they were picked.”

Does this sound like a hit show to you? Just sounds like more dysfunctional, exploitative, “icky” TV to me.

Granted, it would probably do very well because the same folks that keep the ratings of shows about cooking competitions high, also watch shows about eating bugs and are often glued to those cooking programs hosted by apronless babes with wide, toothy grins and an ever-deepening cleavage. As if “that’s” something we moms should add to our list of aspirations at 6 pm after a long day out in the world. So, a show highlighting homemade crusty dysfunction …well, that seems to fit right in! (In all fairness, I guess the networks with programming about food have to do something to compete with shows like “American Idol, Dancing with the Stars, The Biggest Loser, and Wife Swap”…)

Personally, although I confess to watching the shows about cooking weird things (last night Andrew Z. was sucking on sautéed squirrel’s brains)…and I do find shows interesting that reveal things like how, where (and why) the very first candy canes were made… I’m SO bored by over-exposed restaurant chefs and I’m left feeling just as cold by shows featuring chicken-fighting, wanna-be star chefs, as are my friends, most of whom are not food professionals. When we discuss food-TV, we also concur to need fewer shows hosted by tightly dressed ladies with glossy lips, exposed chests and bedroom eyes–most of whom don’t have kids, making them unable to truly understand the food-style/lifestyle needs of working mothers (and by the way, all mothers are working whether we have an “outside” job or not).

What I hear over and over again is that few of these shows actually teaches anymore, certainly not like the old (original) days on Food TV.

So, to me, what’s lacking is a combination of things, all stemming from the need for more sound instruction given by people who really understand the whole picture of today’s home-cook, given a variety of scenarios…However, cooking shows should not be used as a time and place to wallow in personal frustration by watching other amateur cooks scramble through a lack of kitchen know-how, or professionals frantically trying to perform without the right tools or ingredients, just to see them squirm. Although sometimes amusing, in actuality, this only robs valuable time and keeps viewers stuck in the same sorry place. We need more cooking shows that actually aim to help the viewer to proactively become more proficient–at COOKING AND BAKING!

So, here’s an at-a-glance guide to what today’s home cook really wants and needs from watching food-TV:

1) We desire to learn how to have more fun cooking. To feel inspired to see the kitchen as a place and cooking as a way to recreate and become restored after a long day or week of working and/or toting the kids from place to place.

2) We desire to learn how to excersize and strengthen our creative and nurturing spirit by tapping into the realm where cooking can be seen as a daily way to build something delicious, whether new or tried and true, to be experienced as something soothing and yet exciting for us personally, and also as a way to consistently convey devotion to those at the table.

3) We desire to be forewarned of the technical challenges in a given dish; to learn timing and organizational skills along with shopping “smarts,” all to help keep the “at-home sport” of cooking and the continual practice of creating and sharing family meals moving forward in a happy way.

4) We desire to learn from one who’s truly been there; one who intimately understands both, the joys and potential vulnerability inherent in feeding people that we like and/or love and who often depend on us. (And it helps if this person has actually survived raising multiple children through puberty….)

What we want and need on the home-front…

1) We want to cook with and for kind, appreciative people. (We also could use some help cleaning up…)

2) Most important, we want to learn all kinds of “family-friendly” recipes, especially those that are doable even when tired, hungry and every-one’s eyes are on us to save the day.

Well, although I can’t be there personally to put a fire under your family, I certainly can teach you to cook more efficiently and, I hope, with a more creative spirit and with love in your heart.

So, this is from me to you, as one who “knows”…

Here’s a recipe that’s delicious, cost-effective and also has major do-ahead benefits. It’s also both, kid AND husband friendly.

Sloppy Joe's are simple food that's truly soothing...

Sloppy Joe’s…A Blast from the Past, Only Better!

Yield: serves 4 to 6 (the sauce is large enough to feed 4 to 6 (twice!)

My husband Jon is frequently asked “What’s your absolutely favorite meal at home?” Most people are quite surprised by his answer, which is always the same: “Lauren’s Sloppy Joe’s are very close to the top of the list.” This combination of ground meat simmered in an intensely flavored sauce, served atop buttered and toasted burger buns seems to send my husband back to his childhood. (Of course, what he ate back then was completely store-bought and the eating place was usually the school cafeteria.) Since this sauce doubles perfectly, I really recommend that you make a large batch and freeze it in separate small containers. Then, in the morning, you can take the sauce out to thaw and simply purchase freshly ground beef and some buns, sometime during the day. So, on nights when you’re exhausted, within minutes, you can prepare and share a delicious, quick and truly comforting meal. Also, don’t hesitate to use ground turkey instead of beef. Or, if meat isn’t your thing, you can simply simmer reconstituted soy vegetable protein in the sauce and serve it the same way you would when using meat. The point: Regardless of your choice of protein, this recipe for Sloppy Joe’s is a real winner and truly family-friendly.

A note: For an easily printable version, click here. Also, if you’d like to watch the videos of me performing some of the basic cooking skills required in this recipe (i.e. chopping onions and celery, peeling and chopping garlic and peeling and seeding tomatoes), you can see the previews by clicking here. so you can decide whether or not you’d like to see them in their entirety.

Equipment

12-inch non-reactive, deep-sided skillet

At-a-Glance Recipe Guide

Prep time: 30 minutes (for the sauce)

Cooking time (for the sauce): 1 ½ hours (for the initial cooking of the sauce which can all be done way ahead, divided and kept frozen)

Cooking time: 20 minutes to assemble the actual sloppy Joe’s

Do ahead potential: All of the vegetables required for the sauce can be prepared and refrigerated, separately and well covered, one day ahead of assembling. The sauce can be made in bulk, divided into increments and frozen for at least 6 months (I’ve kept it longer and it’s fabulous…).

Ingredients

• 2 generous cups Sloppy Joe Sauce (following)
• 2 generous pounds freshly ground beef (chuck, round, sirloin or a combination) or ground veal and/or turkey
• Freshly ground black pepper to taste
• 4 to 6 large hamburger buns
• Softened butter, for the buns

Make the sauce: Prepare as directed in following recipe, measure out 2 cups and freeze the rest in 1 or 2 cups increments.

Brown the ground meat: Heat a 10-inch non-reactive deep-sided skillet over medium heat. When hot, add the ground meat and break it up with a wooden spatula. Cook the meat until separated and no longer pink, about 4 minutes. Then remove from the stove and drain out any excess fat from skillet. Return skillet to the stove, over low heat. Stir in the sauce and bring the mixture to a gentle simmer, uncovered. Cook gently until the flavors mingle and the mixture is piping hot throughout, about 10 minutes. Add some more freshly ground black pepper and serve immediately.

Assemble the Sloppy Joe’s and serve: While the sauce is simmering, open the hamburger buns and spread both opened sides lightly with butter. Lay the buns, buttered sides up, on a shallow baking sheet. Broil the buns until the buttered sides are nicely toasted. Spoon the ground beef mixture lavishly over buns and serve hot.

Sloppy Joe Sauce

Yield: about 4 cups; serves 8 to 10

Please don’t begrudge the long list of ingredients in this sauce. The individual components all come together to make these Sloppy Joe’s better than all others (trust me, I get calls, emails and letters from all over the country because this recipe is so satisfying..) Also, this recipe makes twice as much sauce as called for in the preceding recipe. You can cut it in half or (what I suggest) double it so you will have plenty on hand in your freezer. You’ll need one generous cup of sauce for each generous pound of ground meat to serve two adults or four kids.

Equipment

• 2 1/2-quart non-reactive saucepan

Ingredients:

• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 cup packed minced yellow onion
• 1/2 cup packed seeded and minced green bell pepper
• 1/4 cup seeded and minced red bell pepper
• 2 tablespoons minced celery
• 6 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 cups canned tomato puree
• 2 rounded tablespoons tomato paste
• 1 cup prepared ketchup
• 2 tablespoons cider vinegar
• 1/4 cup unsulphured molasses
• 2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
• 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 cup chopped cleaned fresh button mushrooms or portobello mushroom caps only
• 1 1/2 cups peeled, seeded and coarsely chopped ripe plum (Roma) tomatoes or drained and seeded canned plum tomatoes
• 1 teaspoon crumbled dried oregano
• 1 teaspoon “Better Than Bouillon” (beef version), available in well-stocked supermarkets
• Freshly ground black pepper to taste

Start the sauce: Heat a 2 1/2-quart nonreactive saucepan over medium heat and, when hot, add the oil. When the oil is hot, stir in the onion, green and red pepper, celery and garlic. Cook until the vegetables are softened and fragrant, 4 to 5 minutes. Stir in the tomato puree, tomato paste, ketchup, vinegar, molasses and Worcestershire sauce. Bring the mixture to a simmer, reduce heat to very low and simmer with the cover ajar for 1 hour.

Sauté the mushrooms: Heat an 8-inch skillet over high heat and, when hot, add the olive oil. When the oil is hot, add the chopped mushrooms and cook, stirring frequently, until the mushrooms are golden, 2 to 3 minutes. Remove from the heat and set aside.

Finish the sauce: After the sauce has simmered 1 hour, add the sautéed mushrooms, chopped plum tomatoes, oregano, “Better Than Bouillon” seasoning and some freshly ground black pepper. Return to a simmer and cook with the cover ajar for 30 minutes more. If you plan on using the sauce that day, measure out as much as needed and let the remaining sauce cool. Freeze cooled sauce in tightly sealed containers.

Serving Variations
The assembled Sloppy Joe mixture (including meat) is not only great on buns, it’s fabulous over hot, lightly buttered pasta; toss in some cooked peas for a hearty and delicious meal. Alternatively, stir some into a bowl of freshly cooked rice. And, don’t throw out any leftovers! Heat up the sauce on the next night and spoon it onto baked potatoes; If desired, sprinkle the tops lightly with grated Cheddar cheese and bake or broil until the cheese is melted and bubbling.

Comments (0)