Around the Way

Stone Driveway

Keith Haring at The Brooklyn Museum

 

Cooking with Gas - Leftovers

What to do with the leftover pie crust from my quiche? I remembered my mom's jelly tarts from childhood fondly. It actually kills two birds with one stone: remnants from the jam jar and unused dough. 

For this batch, I used peach preserves bought for my trip down memory lane. I made small empanada-style tarts: the edges were folded over and pinched, crimped with a fork, pierced a few times for venting in the oven, then sprayed with cooking spray.

Into the oven, at 375° for about 10 minutes. Perfect! I ate all of these for dessert last night, too. There, I admitted it. And now, on to training.

Cooking with Gas

Finally, the head of escarole is gone. With Italian-American cooking, any fresh ingredient can be combined into a pasta dish, if done in the right combination. 

And so I did: ziti with escarole, garlic, onion, olive oil, salt and pepper, romano, and a bit of half and half for some extra creaminess. 

I ate two bowls :)

Cooking with Gas

Escarole, black bean, red onion and romano tostada

This weeks' food mission is finishing the rest of the tortillas and escarole. A pairing seemed the obvious way to go. Dinner for Tuesday night was a simple tostada of escarole, black beans, onions, and romano cheese, seasoned with salt and pepper and a couple of dashes of hot sauce, then drizzled with olive oil for the best browning possible. The bottoms of the tortillas crisped up so nicely, they were stable enough to fold into tacos.  Aye caramba!

Around the Way

"Y-M-C-A"

Cooking with Gas

With the return of cooler temps, I'm back to oven use, so I decided to make quiche. I had on hand a box of pie crust mix, and some ingredients in the fridge nearing their expiration date. Unbeknownst to me, the head of escarole I bought is atypically large—it's the first time I've cooked with it, coming from the canned and frozen veggie generation. I'm using it in as many dishes as I can.

After rolling out the dough, I shaped the crust in a store-bought pie tin, and then popped it in the freezer for chilling before baking.

The filling is a mixture of escarole, onions, and garlic, sauteed in olive oil until soft and reduced, then cooled briefly while I mixed together two eggs, some milk, shredded romano, with salt and pepper. Into the pie crust and then the oven at 375° for about 10 minutes or so: basically, until the top turned golden brown and the crust looked flaky. It's an artist thing—I go by look, feel, smell, touch, and taste, in addition to a recipe. Every oven and cooking situation is unique, so you gotta go by your experience, always.

And this was yesterdays' brunch. Now go get yours!

Around the Way

Japanese Maple

Cooking with Gas

Oven-roasted Rosemary Chicken

Sundays' dinner was the essence of simplicity: roast chicken, seasoned with rosemary, garlic powder, paprika, salt and pepper, 
with pats of margarine on top for a good crispy skin. The au jus is absolutely delicious over rice. Voilà!

Around the Way

Misty Night

Brooklyn Rooftop

Reality Without Airbrushing

Someone emailed me yesterday that I didn't look good in my "photo of the day" because it was a candid shot: my hair looked "messy" (I have naturally curly hair) and I looked "tired". Ironically, it was the same day I posted a link on Illuminations' Facebook page about cheesy glamour shots from mall photographers. http://www.buzzfeed.com/whitneyjefferson/12-ways-to-get-the-best-glamour-shot. They say design tells the truth while advertising lies, and since I don't lie, I can tell you is this: I take self-portraits for many reasons, but I also want my audience to see the real me so they aren't disappointed when they meet me, not that anyone is. Part of the deep, dark secret between female relationships is envy, hidden as concern. It gives a woman the freedom to lash out at her prettier sister while hiding behind another agenda. Many women brutally compete with each other without being aware of it, because they have been fed a steady diet of images all their lives. They've been told over and over about how they should look and act. No wonder there are so many unhappy women!

For the record, let me write this: I know I am beautiful, and I know that I am human. Beauty is not a guarantee for perfection—I do not live a pain-free, problem-free life. I have pores, I have skin with actual texture, and so does the rest of me. I am NOT some fake, mass-produced fembot artificially created, altered and enhanced just for your viewing pleasure. I do self-portraits because I want to see myself in different lights. It's a timeline of who I was on that day, and what I was feeling. Many of us have given the power of our images away to the media, but not me. I seek to be the first to define my image as I see fit, because as an artist, I have the ability to do so. The cheapest and first model most budding artists have is their reflection. What better way to learn about portraiture than looking in the mirror? I've done more unflinching self-reflection than most people ever will, and it gives me a sense of comfort. There's the chicken pox scar right in the center of my forehead. I once had a tarot reader stop me as I walked by, to tell me that I was extremely blessed to have a "Third Eye" because of the insight it gives me, and that's true—I do see more than most.

There are people who have never seen a photo of a human that isn't a retouched, digital composite of pixels. There are also crazy people working in media who use their job to craft images based on their fantasies. I had a friend (no longer of my acquaintance) who visited me in the studio one day and picked up a photographer's promo card from my inspiration board that she said she didn't like. She does work as a high end retoucher for fashion and beauty advertising, or as she sadly described it to me: "I get paid to airbrush out peoples' ass fat and put it into their lips." She told me that she would totally re-do the card to "smooth it out". I was baffled. It was a shot of an athletic woman from the back: she was in an evening gown flexing her arms, standing on a pier over water as the sun set, a gorgeous moment in time. "Smooth what out?", I asked. "All these 'bumps' on her back! See, like here and here," she pointed them out to me. "You mean her muscles?", I clarified. "Well, yeah. I don't know. I just want to make her whole back smooth." I was concerned for her. She was struggling with personal problems, and she was admitting to me that her job had warped her ability to see people clearly. It was a chilling moment for me. I realized my friend has more serious mental issues than I thought.

You see, she was deep into internet dating and still unhappily single in her 40s: never had a long-term relationship, no engagements or marriages, no live-in boyfriends, none of that. She was using software to digitally airbrush other friends' photos for online dating, too. The scary part was, she wasn't making the connection between her distortions at work and the perceptions she was forcing onto the viewing public. She had one bad date after another. One man flat out told her that it was nasty of her to use an old photo when she was younger and thinner because it was false advertising. I call that the ole "bait and switch" and it is a lowdown dirty trick that reeks of insecurity. Another man flatly refused to date her again until she lost weight. You would think after all that bad feedback, she would connect her work with the poor reactions she was getting out there in the real world, but she never did. Sure, she met some jerks online, but the reality is, she's not representing herself as she truly is. She's a beautiful lady, but she wants a JFK Jr. stand-in, and that's not the kind of man who will want her back. She consistently reaches out to shallow rich guys into perfectionism, who want the stereotypical trophy wife (plastic surgeries be damned), and my former friend is not that—in truth she is so much more.

Me, without airbrushing.

I hope some day she gets the message but until then, I'll be here taking pictures of myself and marking time. I started taking self-portraits as a teen in college and I love looking back at those old, grainy black and white shots. Are they model head shots, awfully awkward Sears photos, cheesy and depressing "Glamour Shots" from some suburban strip mall, or canned smiley class pictures? No, they are not those things. They are so much more than that. They are the real me. So, here I am, in the middle of a work day at home, with no make-up on, at 42 years old. I guess I must be out of the loop with the rest of society, because I think I look damn good ;) 

How do you feel about yourself today?

Cooking with Gas

"Tortilla Week" continues at mi casa. I wanted to make a sweet dish, and this morning was cool enough for oven use, so I moved forward on my idea: cinnamon and sugar chips.

It's very simple: some sugar and cinnamon mixed together and sprinkled over the slices cut into chip size, coated with cooking spray in a 375° oven.

After 10 minutes, out popped toasty goodness. Nothing smells better in the morning than the warm scent of cinnamon and sugar.

Six tortillas makes a bunch of chips, so I baked them in two batches. No problem! I ate the first round of chips while waiting for the second ones to cook.

After cooling for a couple of minutes, they finish crisping completely. At this point the chips are ready for container storage, not that my chips made it that far.

I went heavier on the cinnamon and sugar for the second batch. 

They came out baked to golden perfection. Buenos Dias!

At Home

Lush greenery

Around the Way

City Meets Country

Doorway

Under Lock and Key

Cooking with Gas - Leftovers

Enchilada filling

Here we are with the last of Sunday's fried chicken, just one drumstick left. After consulting my handy Tortillas! cookbook for a general direction, I began with the filling: garlic and onion in olive oil, shredded chicken, escarole, some jalapeno, a large spoonful of small red kidney beans with a little bit of the cans' liquid, and a plum tomato.

Rolled and back in the pan with liquid

The books' recipe called for heavy cream with two bouillon cubes, 

but I adapted it with a bit of whole milk in a cup of chicken broth. 

I put the filling in the warmed tortillas and rolled them up, then they went back in the pan with shredded Monterey Jack and New York Extra Sharp Cheddar (my favorite) over the top. I left the cover off for the liquid to reach a boil and reduce down to a sauce.

Chicken, bean, and escarole enchiladas

The recipe also mentioned oven baking for melty goodness, but with yesterday's summer-like temps, I wanted to avoid adding heat to the apartment. My mom makes a stovetop chicken parm that's killer, so I took solace in that and moved forward. And here it is! Most of the pan liquid burned off, leaving the cheesy edges to crisp up beautifully. Forks up!

Around the Way

"Help me to help you"

At Home

Gentle, cool breeze on a perfect Spring Day

Cooking with Gas - Leftovers

Shredded chicken and escarole quesadilla

I'm beginning a new subdivision of the Cooking features, because leftovers are part of any daily cooks' menu plan. Sunday's fried chicken turns into a bunch of different options for the rest of the week. This is the first idea I had—stuffed chicken quesadillas, made with shredded chicken from Sundays' dinner. It was too easy: a tortilla in the pan, loaded with chicken, tomatoes, escarole, onions, some diced jalapenos, tons of Monterey Jack cheese, topped with a second tortilla, flipped carefully in the pan, and served piping hot, with plenty of pico de gallo on the side. What do you do with leftovers?

Influences - Album Covers

Pinterest* has caught fire in a big way, and any current or former art student knows why. Inspiration boards are part of a creatives' conceptualization process. I started thinking about what I was into growing up, and why. As much as I like museums and galleries, they seem remote, distant, cold, and touristy, like large cathedrals, but much more pretentious. I'm not inspired by work for a minuscule group of wealthy collectors. Word to the no. It was always the kind of print material that I could hold in my hot little hands: posters, cards, stickers, books, magazines, comics, newspapers, and record albums—anything that I could study over and over at my leisure, and hand held items afforded me that kind of luxury.

Part of a series for SUNY drawing class, age 19 - © Marie Doucette

For me, there's never been big questions about Art vs. Commerce, because I wanted to make work for people like me, my friends, and my family. If you need to take an appreciation seminar that couches critique in the lingua franca of the privileged few, I'll pass. And it's not like I can't snob it up like any abstract painter with a trust fund, because I scored great grades in fine art classes (Paint whatever I want?! You're friggin' kidding me, right? Easy, man.) But, how big would my influence be? Who am I talking to? Am I changing anyone's mind, making an impact? If it isn't globally large, then I'm just  speaking to the same people I didn't have anything in common with back then, and who snub me now. Uh, pass...again. This ain't no cocktail party, or high school popularity contest.

"Tattoo You" hallway

Hence the debut of the new feature Influences, inspired by the old-fashioned concept board, now refashioned for the digital age. Record albums had a big impact on me: they were public art spaces with lots of cool effects, lavish with details that had lyrics and references it takes real time to get into. But oh, once you do, you know that music and art like no one else. The first time I saw the double cover for The Stones Tattoo You, I knew I wanted to do whatever the hell that was. I had no idea what it was, or how to make something that cool, but I knew I would find out. Years later, that album inspired a series of drawings that was part of my entrance portfolio into RISD from my small SUNY teacher's college. Last year, walking around my neighborhood, I found a copy on the sidewalk in a box of stuff on the street, art and album intact. It now hangs in my album-covered hallway. What are some of your biggest influences?

*Check out my boards: http://pinterest.com/mariedoucette/

TeddyBear

Bear Cub's friend Lil Penguino stopped by for a Sunday visit, all the way from the South Pole!

Cooking with Gas

Sunday fried chicken

I had chicken pieces in the fridge, marinating for a couple of days in milk and spices, for frying on Sunday. They were primed with an egg bath and seasoned flour mixture. This time, I added a bunch of Louisiana hot sauce to the egg wash until it turned a light orange.

Frying!

The key to a really done piece of fried chicken turned out to be a 10 minute crisping on high heat, followed by a half an hour of covered, slow cooking on the lowest flame setting. You could also drain the chicken on towels after the initial searing and let them finish in the oven, but I wanted to do a purely stove top method. We had summer-like heat yesterday in New York City.

Sunday dinner

It was definitely the moistest piece of chicken I have had in awhile. Next time, I'll do two rounds of egg and spiced flour, to get that extra layer of fried crunch on the outside. Summer is almost here, just in time for the perfect fried chicken recipe. What's yours?

TeddyBear

Lazy Sundays are made for sleeping in and reading!

TeddyBear

Bear Cub's Wild Rumpus: face down, between pillows!

Around the Way

My Favorite Tree

New Amsterdam