Walking Tour

Boston is a very different city today compared to when I was growing up. Its not like the sun bleached, neatly manicured roads of Ft Lauderdale or the picturesque streets of Des Moines. These days Boston has a gritty quality; dark concrete and brick buildings that reflect a gum chewed, sullied and pee-streaked labyrinth that is the streets of Boston. On the up side, every morning as I come out of the train station, I am greeted by one of several homeless people wishing me a nice day or that God bless me. Usually it is similar on the way home; approaching the doors to the station, sometimes a blind man or perhaps a stocky man with dreadlocks and shiny new sneakers holds out his Dunkin Donuts cup for me to view how much change he has accumulated in the past hour. But I digress...


It was a beautiful afternoon and I decide to get out for a walk. I really don't take advantage of this city like I should. Here I am working right in the middle of the hustle and bustle of Downtown Boston and whats the first this I see when I cross the street? I see two pigeons having sex. I not only saw it, I was so close I felt like I was intruding. The moment I reached the sidewalk, these two start going at it. It was almost like a sign from God how it seemed like they were just waiting for me to get there. (A burning bush would have done just fine thank you.) And then, as quickly as it begun, it was over. But the pheromones must have been in the air because pigeons started landing next to me left and right. A least 30 of them! I couldn't step fast enough out of the way for them to join their two horny little friends cooing and snapping their necks, parading the sidewalk they they were gray and white winged models posing and walking down a cockeyed runway.
I sidestepped my way out of there and continued.

Boston is always full of chic and elegant people coming and going. The dress code varies as much as the people do. From men in suits and ties to hip 20-somethings in skinny jeans and high tops, from colorful African dresses and headdresses to grunge metal- to just plain homeless men or women grunge. You see it all.
Here I captured a photo of a woman who matched all the way down to her shoes. No small feat-but more easily done by having a DSW flagship shoe store just 2 blocks down.



I worked my way down Washington Street to the Chinatown. I love immersing myself in a culture where I can simultaneously buy a head of Bok Choy and a pound of chicken feet and get stabbed by the Chinese Mafia on the way home. Its very exciting.

I walked back, stopping at the giant CVS on the corner only to bear witness to a big man standing at the cash register yelling "Its jerky! There's no tax!" to the cashier. He loudly repeated this to the girl and the entire store. Then stormed out with said jerky. The manager another young girl who liked curiously just like the cashier said, "He didnt pay". I think they just "ate" that sale. As I left the store moments later I spied the man standing at the corner. I looked for the suspect jerky but I didnt have my glasses on so could make out much detail and didn't want to get too close. Although, I looked to see if he was chewing and he wasn't.

I dodge rolling suitcases, men with public spitting problems, women searching for Filene's Basement (try Newbury Street), young girls wheeling baby carriages and lines of teenagers with chips on their shoulders. I break through and manage to emerge at the Borders bookstore across from my office. If you think you are gonna be taking a break on the pubic benches out front of the store think again. Its and odd thing to see a homeless man singing to his boom box (on the bench-don't try to move it)next to him while beside him is a lady in Guccis and dark glasses tries to ignore him. Beside her sits obvious tourist family speaking a foreign language and looking very lost. All the seats are full. Why do you want to sit where bag ladies and drunks take up residence anyway?

Back at my office the tours were going by. They always stop directly in front of my office door. I don't want to alarm them, or push my way through a crowd of German or Japanese families so I wait for the guide to finish his spiel before going in. Beware tourists! Don't trip over the cracked and peeled "Freedom Trail" in front of my building and that runs through the city.

Kugel-mania Part 2

As for the Squash kugel, what a pleasant surprise when I pulled it out of the oven! With a ton of milk, sugar and eggs, it was the strangest kugel recipe Ive seen. In fact it is more like a squash pie or heavy custard. It was a beautiful bright orange sprinkled with cinnamon. The wonderful aroma reminiscent of a fall afternoon and Thanksgiving lingered. I would definitely make it again but perhaps half the recipe. The woman who entered the recipe for the contest had only one word to describe it... "Yum" she wrote and signed her name.

Of the nine kugels the others made, all used noodles except for one token matzoh kugel, and one even had chocolate in it (mixed reactions there). The food editor, G-d love her, made four kugels. When she walked into the office she promptly announced which kugel she thought would win.

The JA crew was excited. They eagerly awaited the tasting. They even started chanting "ku-gel, ku-gel". I set out plastic container after container as they came out of the microwave and set them on the long white table in the office. I deftly suggested we use that table where we would have more space to spread out (and since I thought the nasty smell i n the kitchen area would skew the tasting).


More than half of the staff had never even heard of kugel no less tasted one, but no matter. By the end of lunch everyone was pronouncing kugel like a pro.

Kugel Memories... Kugel-mania Part 1

Yesterday was the first ever Kugel Contest judging competition at the JA. Readers were asked to send in their favorite kugel recipes (kugel is a Jewish term for a noodle or potato casserole side dish. Usually noodle ones are sweet and potato is savory)

Somehow I got wrangled in to making 2 kugels. Fortunately, I got to pick, so I took the one potato and a squash one. Id never heard of a squash kugel and was curious to try it. As for the potato kugel recipe--this was definitely your Bubbe's kugel but without the schmaltz. I grated the potatoes and onion in my Cuisinart food processor (sorry Grandma no hand grater here!) I looked again at the potato kugel recipe and careful re-read the personal comments below the recipe. It was his mother's recipe from the '40s. He explained how he remembered his parents used to grate the potatoes and onion with a hand-crank meatgrinder. The mix was then put in a bowl of water to keep them from turning brown, then drained. As I read this, I could see a young boy kneeling on a chair gathered around his mom at the kitchen table as she cranked the bulky metal beast and he held a big bowl tightly as the shreads of potato magically appeared through small holes at the bottom.



Memories of my own childhood cooking with my mom for the holidays quickly replaced that of the young boy. I stood right here in this very kitchen 30 years ago kneeling on a chair helping my mom and wearing our fashionable aprons. (I always choose the frilly pink one.)

It struck me that even though this wasn't my mother's recipe, it didn't need to be to relive the experiences I had with my mom when I was growing up. That list of ingredients not only stirred up memories, but also smells and sounds; the whirr of the blender, the fine grit of flour on my cheek and the smooth bowl under my fingers. The directions reminded me of how much I loved the camaraderie of working beside my mother. I couldn't wait to serve our creation and to hear the "oohs" and "aahs" from family members.

As I finished reading his emailed recipe, at some point, he wrote, he and his mother switched from chicken fat to healthier oil. Somehow, I cant help wondering if maybe they should have left it in, if only for the memories.

Yeah, I get a lot of comments about my gummy vitamin supply. But what is more strange: that I take gummy vitamins or that I have them all lined up on my desk?

Occasional I dole out rations to my coworkers. My boss appears at my desk and holds out her hand. I place 2 gummy Calciums in her palm and I know she is all set for the day. It makes me feel good to know I am contributing to the good health of my coworkers.

Green Thumb

I love growing flowers...I really do. Unfortunately, you wouldnt know by the dried out, wilted and slightly moldy growth that accumulated in the rectangular window box I had out front by the end of last summer. Sure, it looked good at first. I had been up at Hilltop Steak House where beside the Butcher Shop is an outdoor garden shop. There I bought blooming little yellow, red, purple and white Pom Poms, Germaniums, and Asters. This was going to be the year! I thought. It went well for the first few weeks, maybe even month and a half. At that point I had forgotten to water them too often and it didn’t seem like they were going to rally this time. I worried what my neighbors across the street were thinking.










Well this year is different. Number 1) the rectangular flower box out front was blown away during those real high wind and rain storms last month. I saw it upside down in the corner neighbor's yard. The next day it had disappeared. Im sure they meant to give it back but didnt notice it in front of our house for the past 6 months and didnt know who to return it to.
Number 2) for reasons I will explain another day, we needed to purchase some flowers but it was too early in the season so I made up pots of fake flowers. They are now in our hallway looking out over the street and looking great.
Number 3) about two weeks ago, I noticed one of my onions in kitchen began to sprout. I was excited. Yes, I know that means the onion is old. I dont care. Its growing and its a healthy green. I check on it every day. I finally made something grow!
Number 4) we cannot forget the 40 year old spider plant sitting on our picture window thats hanging on by a string. This plant is amazing!

My summer gardening is done!

Up your nose...

When I returned to my office from lunch the other day, I no sooner sat down when my coworker called to me asking for help. He said he was taking his blood pressure pill and somehow when it went down the wrong, he coughed and it went up his nose! I suspected the pill itself had slide down his throat but it left his nose burning and stinging as the pill started to dissolve! He needed my help right away! With quick thinking, I grabbed a cup from my desk and led him to the kitchen area. "Ok Jim, we need to flush out your nose cavity and the best way to do that is to get some clean water up your nose." He nodded his compliance and I filled the cup. "Do you want to do it?" I asked, holding the cup of water forth. No he wanted me to do it. I raised my eyebrows, got close and proceeded. "Tilt your head back" I told him. He did so and I held the cup to one nostril and then the other. I carefully poured a little water and each time he coughed and spit into the sink. "is it helping?" I asked. "Yeah, lets do some more". After several more applications plus once where he snorted the water instead, we were done. He was grateful for my help and quick thinking. "It still stings a little but not as bad as before."

"Do you want to rinse with more water?"

"Nah", he said, "I'll go have a couple of beers after work and that will clean it out."

So much for Madam Nightingale...