Beauty Tips that Really Work

OK, let's remember this is not just a food blog, but a gardening and lifestyle blog too. So, with that in mind, I like to try out beauty tips I hear about. I enjoy listening to Eva Scrivo's 'Beauty Talk' at 4:00 pm Saturdays on the Sirius Martha Stewart channel 112. What I love about Eva is that even though she is a big name beauty person in NYC, her advice is so real. She recommends stuff from the drug store, Whole Foods, even items on our pantry shelves.
Several times I had heard her extol Neem oil and a boars hair bristle brush. 'Rub a few drops of Neem oil through your hair and then brush from scalp to ends with this bhb brush.' Now I grew up with the 100 brush strokes a night advice which was crushed in the '80s as rubbish because it would break your hair creating bigger problems. I had a hard time getting my head (pun) around the whole brushing idea. But, I have long hair, it is winter, and the fly-aways are annoying. I bought the Neem oil and brush at Whole Foods. Here is where I part ways with Eva.
The Neem oil is disgusting. It smells like rotten onions. I tried it, once. I almost tossed my dinner. I have to add, I asked my husband to sniff my hair and he didn't find it offensive. Additionally, when I washed my hair the next day, I still could smell the Neem oil afterwards. Big yuck. So, I now use a few drops of sweet almond oil which works very well. To answer your question, No, your hair does not look oily at all.
The bhb brush is wonderful. I have very thick hair so I have to brush it out in sections. It feels like thousands of lilliputians massaging my scalp. You may think this is gross, but I can actually miss a day of shampooing. I shampoo every other day and I can actually go two days, if I want. Why? Because the bhb brush distributes the almond oil and my natural oils down along the hair shaft. My hair is so shiny and it feels smoother. Eva says the brushing actually strengthens the hair. I think it does that because the entire hair shaft is being smoothed with the oil and the brushing thus, the end of the hair which typically dries out and breaks off is getting beneficial oils. All I know is that this old - fashioned notion of brushing before bed is working for me. I do want you to know, I do not do the 100 strokes thing nor has Eva ever recommended that. I probably do a couple or three strokes per section of hair.
The other beauty tip that I tried was using brown mascara on my bottom lashes. Eva says that it will look so much more natural. It does. In fact, I have always disliked mascara'ing my lower lashes because it looked so "Liza Minnelli". Using black mascara on the upper lashes, and the brown below is a soft, natural look. Here is how I achieve it: First, I use an eyelash curler on my upper lashes. Then I use Lancome Lash Extender on my upper outer lashes and my lower outer lashes. While the extender is still wet, I brush the black mascara (Aveda) on my upper lashes, slightly wiggling the brush. Eva says you get a more even look by jiggling the brush a bit, and she also says in order for the extender to do it's job you have to apply mascara immediately for the bonding to work properly. Then, I use the brown mascara on my lower lashes.
It seems to put the lower lashes in a supporting role rather than a competition for attention. I think you'll love the look.
I always joke, "the garden veggies don't care what I look like, but I do." It doesn't matter what you are doing or who you are seeing that day, take a few minutes for yourself.

Meatball picture

It has bugged me all day that I was unable to attach the meatball picture. What does this say about me? I logged on just to try one more time, and it worked!

All Thoughts Turn Back to Gardening

Now that the worst of the ice storm catch-up (laundry, carpet cleaning, general housekeeping, cords, generators) is behind me, my thoughts can once again turn to seeds and gardens. Of course, I am now way behind on seed ordering.
Right before the ice storm, I ordered some fruit trees including some varieties of pawpaws which I am the most curious about. Hubby advised me to order "tall trees", none of those "6" varieties that won't fruit in our lifetime". I agreed with that even though older trees cost more, I did want to see the "fruits of my labor" (sorry, couldn't resist the pun). Anyway, in my research I learned that pawpaw trees are very difficult to transplant if they are above a certain height so the ones I ordered are all around 12" tall. I have commented about the interesting pawpaw trivia to hubs, but still, there will be shock and a loud "didn't I tell you to buy the big ones" comment. Oh well... I have researched optimal growing conditions and I'm a little concerned. I wanted to plant them orchard-style, but really, they like water and would probably do better down by the creek so I'm thinking of just planting them along the wood's edge. I need to think about that a little more.
The elderberry bushes are going along the wood's edge when they come in. I found a source for wild strawberries in VA. This is so sad, I cannot remember exactly where, as a child, I picked the wild strawberries. Was it in the field above the house? Or, was it at the edge of the woods? I think it was the edge of the field before the shale path that led to the cemetery. Wild strawberries are so scarce, in fact, I cannot recall seeing one plant since I've lived in Kentucky. Now when we lived in Indiana, there were wild strawberries on the banks along my bike route, as well as lily of the valley and tiny wild irises. As much as I disliked the area we lived in, I loved the natural surroundings. Garden-wise, I am way behind; not even the first potato or onion has been ordered. Must do that today.
One garden will be devoted to all things allium. I think it will be pretty to see the very orderly rows of red onions, yellow onions, Egyptian walking onions, leeks, and several other varieties. This will be the first year for potatoes. I am a bit nervous about them because of the potato beetles. Since I try to grow everything organically, I don't want to Sevin the potatoes, so I will have to find a catch crop or something because they will be there. And, it's not just potatoes they love, the beetles really like eggplants too. I killed so many potato beetles, that it grossed me out and I didn't eat any of the eggplants! I know the genus for potatoes, eggplants, and tomatoes is the same, I just can't think of it at this moment. In fact, the little larvae were on the tomato leaves, but for some reason, didn't make that big of a dent in them. Talking about tomatoes, I made fresh tomato sauce a few weeks ago, and it took me back to summer, really nice. But, it was the meatball recipe that made that sauce.
I have been searching for 10 years (my married life) for a good meatball recipe. Growing up, we didn't eat much Italian cooking, so it wasn't like Mom could pass down a decent Italian meatball recipe. My husband and I, through the years, felt like the three bears when they were criticizing the porridge, "too compacted, too spicy, too fatty". None were just right that is until the January 2009 Gourmet arrived in our mailbox. On page 30 is the best meatball recipe, ever. Hubby was eating them without sauce straight off the baking sheet! And, I ate a couple for breakfast the next day!

Best-ever Meatballs
(Gourmet, January 2009)

Ingredients:
2 medium onions, finely chopped
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
10 garlic cloves, finely chopped
3 cups torn day-old Italian bread
3 cups whole milk
6 large eggs
2 cups grated Parmigiano-Reggiano (1/4 lb)
1/3 cup finely chopped flat-leaf parsley'
1/4 cup finely chopped oregano or 1 tsp dried, crumbled
1 TB grated lemon zest
1-1/2 lb ground veal
1-1/2 lb ground pork
1-1/2 lb ground beef (not lean)
1 cup olive or veg. oil
Preparation:
Cook onions in olive oil in a 12" heavy skillet over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 10 minutes. Add garlic and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 3 minutes. Transfer to a large bowl to cool.
Soak bread in milk in another bowl until soft, about 5 minutes. Firmly squeeze bread to remove excess milk, discarding milk.
Stir together cooled onion mixture, bread, eggs, parmesan, parsley, oregano, lemon zest, 5-1/2 tsp salt, and 1-1/2 tsp pepper until combined. Add meats to bread mixture, gently mixing with your hand until just combined (do not overmix).
Here is where I deviated from the recipe:
I preheated the oven to 350 degrees.
I patted out the meat mixture into roughly a 12 x 14 rectangle. Then using a long knife blade, I cut length-wise and cross-wise, about 1-1/2" x 1-1/2", to create squares. Then, I picked up each square, one by one, and formed meatballs. I placed the meatballs on a foil-lined baking sheet and once the sheet was full, I put it in the preheated oven and baked for about 45 minutes, or until the balls were browned on top.
Meanwhile, I made my sauce. You can make your own or use a really good jarred sauce. Once the meatballs come out of the oven, put as many as you want into the sauce and simmer for a few minutes. Freeze the extra meatballs for future meals.
Recipe says it makes 70 meatballs.

Mashed Potato Passion

My husband adores potatoes. I must be honest, I get bored with them so I'm always on the lookout for something exciting in the world of potatoes. I discovered these mashed potatoes in a British cookery magazine a couple of years ago. I read the article that made a passing reference to this creamy, buttery potato mash called aligot. I missplaced the magazine and could not remember the unusual name. For two years I've searched for this elusive recipe because I just knew potato love was there.
Last week I received my monthly "Cooks Illustrated". There it was, aligot. It's not British, but French. Specifically, french mashed potatoes. Leave it to the french to turn potato love into potato passion. These are simply the best mashed potatoes I have ever eaten; perfect for Valentine's Day. The main rule for making good mashed potatoes is not to overwork the potatoes in order to keep them from becoming gluey. This recipe defies that with vigorous stirring.I read and reread the instruction: 'put potatoes in food processor and pulse until smooth'. I couldn't bring myself to that point so I simply mashed them with a manual potato stomper and proceeded from there. This is not a low-cal mash. This is an intensely rich serving of potatoey, buttery, cheesy goodness.
Traditionally, the french use a raw milk cheese (tomme fraiche) which is unavailable for importation to the US due to a ban on all raw (unpasteurized) cows milk cheeses less than 60 days old. The recipe called for mozzarella and Gruyere; I opted for mozzarella and white cheddar. Delicious. The interesting point about the large amount of cheese in this recipe is the stretchiness of the dish. You can pull the spoon up and potatoes rise above the dish. It is delicious and entertaining! Besides the cheese, there is lots of butter, garlic and whole milk. How could one not be passionate about that?
My husband loved this dish so much that I will include it in my Valentine's menu. I really wanted to share it with you so you could create a little passion among your spuds as well. Oh, to serve in the traditional manner, you should fill an individual bowl (ramekin) to the very top with the aligot. Besides being impressed with the soft sheen of the spuds, you will notice this is a loose, creamy mash versus the American ideal of mounded whipped potatoes.
Of course, all of you who know me, know I can't leave well enough alone. I really want to "southern-ize" this recipe. So, instead of the garlic or maybe in addition to a tad of garlic, I think I will try yellow cheddar and a jar of drained pimentos. I have to leave the mozzarella as is because that is where the stretch comes from. But I think pimento cheese stretchy potatoes will go over very well. Viva la South!

Aligot (from Cook's Illustrated, March & April '09)

Serves: 6

2 pounds Yukon Gold potatoes (4-6 medium), peeled, cut into 1/2" thick slices, rinsed well, and drained
Table salt
6 TB unsalted butter
2 medium garlic cloves, minced or pressed
1-1-1/2 cups whole milk
1 cup shredded mozzarella
1 cup Gruyere (I used white cheddar)
ground black pepper

Place potatoes in a large saucepan; add water to cover by 1" and add 1 TB salt. Partiall cover saucepan with lid and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce heat to med.-low, and simmer until potatoes are tender and just break apart when poked with a fork, about 12-17 minutes. Drain potatoes and dry out pan.
Transfer potatoes to a food processor, add butter, garlic, and 1-1/2 tsp salt. Pulse until butter is melted and incorporated into potatoes, about ten 1 second pulses. Add 1 cup milk and continue to porcess until potatoes are smooth and creamy, about 20 seconds, scrape bowl about half way through.
Return potato mixture to saucepan and set over medium heat. Stir in cheeses, 1 cup at a time, until incorporated. Continue to cook potatoes, stirring vigorously, until cheese is fully melted and mixture is smooth and elastic, about 3-5 minutes. If mixture is difficult to stir and seems thick, stir in 2 TB milk at a time until potatoes are loose and creamy. Season with salt and pepper. Serve immediately.

Warmth

Martha S. would have been proud of the neat labeling of all cords.

Generators that made all bearable.

Ice looked like diamonds against the blue sky.

'Viking' Elliptical cooker that was our main cooking source.

Hard situations brings out the worst in people for a variety of reasons -- fear, ignorance, panic to name a few. But, it also brings out the best in many folks and I was able to see that daily during this ice storm ordeal.

Once people realized that we were without power extending into the weekend, we received several invitations to use their showers. Some of these folks have 8-12 "guests" in their homes so it did mean a lot to us that they would extend their warmth to us.

Of all people, my mother-in-law, came to the house on Wednesday. You have to know ,I have not seen her in over 4 years. Lots of background that would be inappropriate to get into. Upon realization that she was in the car, I panicked, "4 years, and she picks today to come down?" But, I quickly recovered as she walked in. She truly was concerned for us and wanted to ride down with father-in-law Jim who was delivering another generator and fuel to us. They both were shocked at how cold it was even with a fire and the rigged furnace. The yellow cord tentacles were a shock to both as well. I laughed and said, "Sorry you couldn't visit under better circumstances." We all laughed. A visit from both of them was an hour of talking that took my mind off of the situation. As they were getting ready to leave, they begged us to come up and stay, with the dogs, and get away from this house. David nipped it right there, "We're not leaving the outside pets." But, the geniune expression of concern and help was warming.

Most of all, David was a source of warmth. He worked tirelessly to ease my fears. Many times I told him was fine, and I was, but he kept on. I really think checking the generators, all plugs, the water jugs helped him through this. Every morning he left to refill water jugs, get fuel, check the office to see if power was restored. Never a harsh word to me or the dogs; however, he did grow weary of fueling the generators and let everyone know it. I wanted to learn how, but he said, "outside work is mine, inside stuff is for you." And, that's how it went. The most touching thing was the rigged "Hot Tap" shower. The car battery outside the bathroom was so funny. But, you know, the shower was steamy hot. By Thursday-Friday, if I closed my eyes, things seems somewhat normal because of his tireless work to "make sure I was comfortable." The Hot Tap even worked in the kitchen and I was able to wash the dishwasher load that I didn't get to run the week before. Sunday was 54 degrees, with the warm dish water and the breeze coming through the window, I closed my eyes and imagined a lovely day in mid-March. I had to open my eyes though and view reality, a Hot Tap hose running through the window.

My husband's acts of love, daily, kept my spirits up and moved me forward to the next day. I, in turn, told him how much this meant to me, hugged him every time he walked through the door, and joked as much as possible to make him laugh. I worked to provide fairly normal meals. The whole 'food is pleasure' was true those 6 days. We talked in the mornings about what to lay out for dinner that night. In the afternoon, we discussed cooking methods. While cooking in the evening, we talked about side dishes. It really helped us cope.

We looked for people that we could assist, and was able to provide one family with a generator. Warmth from love was so helpful those long six days.

The internet was down yesterday. The phones were also in horrible shape. No problems this morning so I don't know if I can post tomorrow. If I can, I will tell you about the neighbors, Amish neighbors...

Have You Ever Been Really Cold?

Front yard

Tops are snapped out of all the elms

Tuesday night's dinner

The maple by the back door

A limb against the house

When the power went out at 8:45 pm Tuesday evening, it was not actually cold because of the residual heat. We had not eaten yet because I kept waiting all afternoon and into the evening for the inevitable which in itself was emotionally draining; the knowing and yet not knowing when it would happen. So, the spaghetti and meatball dinner I had planned turned into meatballs warmed in the iron skillet over the grill served on hamburger buns; the worst meal of the 6 day ordeal.

There are many kinds of cold. The physical cold came in the early hours of Wednesday morning. It greeted me at 4:00 am with an icy veil. Cold does not blanket, it veils. It felt thin, lacy, veil-like. It's the description that kept coming to mind over the next days.

Cold feels wet. It's not, really. Actually, it is very drying. Our noses burned from the drying effects of the cold. Our throats were sore from the cold air. But, yet it feels wet. My skin was cold and the layers of clothes were cold. And these cold layers touching my skin gave the sensation of wet. I constantly patted myself to see if I actually was wet, but it was the cold. Seeing the dogs shivering even with their sweaters on was difficult. Wednesday morning I fed the Yorkies and Poodle. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Fergie leaning towards her plate and then coming back up without a mouthful. I turned to watch. Her back legs were shaking so badly she couldn't lean all the way down to eat. I picked her up and hand fed her a few bites, but looking into her eyes, I could see she was scared. I took all the dogs into the living room where the fireplace had a warm fire. But, again, the cold was so excessive the fire couldn't penetrate more than a couple feet out from the fireplace. So, I huddled on the hearth with the dogs trying to warm them, and me. I pulled blankets from closets and nailed them over the door openings thinking that blocking off the room would help the heat chase away the cold. David's and my hands and feet were numb. We kept tripping and stumbling because we couldn't feel our toes. Cold adds weight. Our legs felt too heavy to lift. At some point the shivering stopped. I noticed that when I set by the fire the shivering would start. Several times I went into the cold kitchen to stop the shivering because it was wearing me out.

David was panicking as I was. We had never been in such a life threatening situation. We knew this was a matter of survival. Could we do it? We were so spoiled to all the luxuries electricity afforded us. Thankfully, the instinct kicked in. We looked at each other, hugged, and said, 'let's beat this together'. At that moment, taking charge helped fight the panic because we had a plan. We pulled on our snowsuits, and got out the one generator. David figured out how to wire the furnace to it. He came up from the basement. "Good news, bad news. I got it wired up and it worked, but the exhaust vent is rotted." "We're in danger of carbon monoxide poisoning." I called Knight's Electrical. They couldn't send a guy out until Thursday. We were scared to risk keeping the furnace on. We built a blazing fire and kept it going through the night. The living room was bearable, but the dogs wanted to be with us. So, we removed one of the blankets across the living room opening, and the warm air rushed upstairs into the bedroom. It fought the cold, but even then, the cold was still there.

Cold hearts were also evident. Thursday afternoon we went to the home improvement store to stock up on yellow electrical cords. David had made a phone call to Louisville, and he was able to secure another generator. Water was also an issue. We are on a well and without electricity the pump wasn't working. David saw an acquaintance who asked how we were faring. David proudly told him of rigging the furnace, and pulling out a camping toilet to use in the house. It was easy to see the guy was grossed out. David asked him how he was doing. He told David, 'fine, I only lost power for a few hours." Half seriously, David asked if he could come over and take a shower. "Uh, did I say I had power?" "Uh, I don't have anything, not a thing." Jerk.

While David was getting extension cords, a woman walked up in tears. "Do you know anywhere that I can go and buy a heater to keep my kids warm?" David, who always tries to fix the bad for anyone, was shocked. He could only stammer, "maybe you should find a shelter." That bothered him for days. While standing at the front of the store with the water, I observed a family buying a grill. It was so obvious they had never been in this situation before. The mother's voice was shrill as she commanded the children to behave. She told them Daddy was buying a grill and they were going to eat good that night. Daddy was patiently waiting for the cashier to ring up the order. The patience wore thin as the cashier was having problems. I watched and realized he was paying for it with public assistance. The cashier didn't know how to ring it up. The man was whispering instructions, but the cashier wouldn't even look at him. The man's whispering turned into loud hissing, "Just slide it like a credit card." He didn't want others to know his situation, but now his line was the longest and people were noticing. It didn't help that the shrill voice of his wife was bringing attention to their plight. Plus, the children were using the buggy as monkey bars. It was bad.

Even when folks reached out and brought friends and family in from the cold, several of those rescued sat by and waited to be served. Those cold hearts let the hosts cook, clean, and provide for their comfort. When the sewage backed up at one friend's house, it was the last straw. He asked the "house guests" to pitch in a bit. A few packed up and went back to their cold houses rather than help

.

Death's cold came Thursday night. Bob Walker, our dear friend died. The physical cold was nothing compared to the ache in our hearts. Death's icy scythe had ripped our friend from us. And yet, a warm outpouring of friends and family helped lay him to rest Monday afternoon. The gripping wind didn't stop those who had been touched by the warmth of his friendship from celebrating the greatness of his life. We all know that the earth's chilly embrace didn't hold our Bob. He had reached his reward and the riches that he deserved. He is resting in the warmth of heaven's arms.

Monday night the power came back on. David looked to the sky and whispered, "Thanks, Bob."

Next blog will highlight the warmth that shined through the cold...