The Power of Prayer and Saturday Kitchen
Don't ever tell me that prayer doesn't work. Because I think it does and I always will.
Results from Dad's latest check-up are stellar! The tumour in his esophagus has almost reduced to nothing, there are no signs of the cancer spreading and from all tests and indicators, he is a recovering man.
The other day, Mom said that she just knew - when he was really sick - that it wasn't time for Dad to die because she knew he wasn't through driving her completely crazy. I love that!
So that's the fantastic, amazing, great news I have. Dad is better. In fact, my Mom, my nephew and Dad's nurse were all in the Doctor's office when the Doc delivered the news. The minute the Doc stopped talking all three of them said 'You're not sick anymore Chuck' in unison. That's code for 'No more acting like a helpless, selfish invalid!'.
Got to give Dad credit. He's responded to gentle persuasion and now is up and about doing all sorts of chores. His nurse is glad to help him get dressed, negotiate the steps and get him settled in to those daily routines he was so good at before he got sick. Opening the mail, petting the dog, polishing silver, shuffling papers from one side of his desk to the other - or 'paying bills' as he says.
I am so proud of him and so thankful to my Mom and friends and family who have helped.
OK - hate to change the subject so drastically, but I have to
Subject: BBC -
Saturday Kitchen with the dreamy James Martin. I only have a few comments - for today that is...
1. James Martin is such a welcome, refreshing change to growly, grisly, sloppy and grouchy Antony Worral Thompson - and he's cute! THANK YOU BBC
2. I do like the idea of having a celebrity guest on the show - but please - check to see if the guest actually eats food, likes food, and does something other than show their breasts on page 3 of crap newspapers for a living.
3. You can never have enough of a good thing - Rachel Allen and Michael Caines should be on
Saturday Kitchen as guest chefs as often as possible
4. Why do you have your knives and utensils on the right side of your stove when you do all of your work to the left of it? You look ridiculous crashing in to your celebrity chefs every week while trying to get around them to get to your tools.
5. And last but not least - shame on BBC for those terrible questions to win seats at the
Saturday Kitchen table. Come on. You should have some real culinary questions to be answered by people who know food and deserve to have a spot at the table.
Cagey Bee
Saturday was my birthday and I went out with friends until the wee hours - as you do in Brussels.
I met the lovely Lara and a friend - (a VERY strong candidate for 'Mr. in the Kitchen with a Chicken'! But more on him another time) We started at PP cafe for mint daiquiris. Then a cosmopolitan.
We went to O'Reilly's and I had a glass of plonk wine and we danced to so-so 80's music until Lara had to leave - she had been suffering from a bout of flu and didn't want to push herself too soon. I went with Cutie Pie (he'd hate being called that...but it's my blog)... to Monk and met up with a couple other friends.
After a few drinks there, we marched over to Celtica - A must when celebrating anything as important as my birthday :-)) and a must when accompanied by an entourage. Too bad Aussie Girl wasn't in town...
The moment we entered the hot, steamy, smoky, packed bar we knew it was one of those crazy, wonderful Celtica nights. Wall to wall people in good moods, smiling, chatting each other up, dancing. At one point a friend decided he was going to become Tom Jones - or The 'Sex Bomb' at least. He stood behind a woman's chair and in front of all of her friends, proceeded to shimmy up and down like a pole dancer - the girls roared with laugher and feigned disapproval - they loved it! His performance included a detailed striptease without removing any clothing which made the girls squeal with delight. How funny it was.
Cutie Pie and I danced for a while and decided it was time to call it a night - or an early morning at least. We got over-the-top huge portions of frites in little paper cones and so smothered with sauces they put us off - we only ate a few and then hailed a taxi for home.
When we arrived home, I found a large wrapped package on a chair in my living room. I got a chill down my spine - the realisation that there has been someone in my house. That package was NOT there when I left earlier in the evening.
I quickly went through a mental list of friends that have my key and unless they were magicians, there's no way any of them could have gotten that present to my house that evening - I was stumped.
Strange package or not - it was my birthday - so I ripped it open like a kid at a party. The package contained a fancy foot spa of all things. One of those contraptions you fill with water and it massages, bubbles and soothes your feet. OK. Who thinks I need relaxation and home pedicures...??? Hmm.
Since it was close to 5 am, my logic told me that it must have been Lara - leaving us earlier and coming all the way back to my house at midnight - yeah, right. 5 am logic.
The phone woke me from a deep slumber at 10 am Sunday morning. It was my housekeeper's husband. They are Russian. Even though his name appeared on my phone, I was a bit foggy and didn't quite connect as to why he would be calling me on Sunday morning. In a deep, heavy Russian accent:
'Do you like your birthday present'
................
'Oh, yes, I do like it - it was so generous of you two. Thank you.'
'You are welcome'
'But, how did you know it was my birthday?'
'Remember I was KGB in Russia - I know a lot of things'
'I didn't know who came to my house in the night while I was away'
'We always look after you - you are safe'
'Wow, even when not in KGB anymore, you look after me - so nice!'
'Once KGB - always KGB - like your father - once CIA, always CIA'
(Had I told him that Dad was in the CIA????? - Don't ask)
Gulp
'Thanks VERY much for the nice gift!'
'You are welcome - have a good day - Goodbye'
White Night and Full English
Saturday night was Nuit Blanche in Brussels - White night - when all establishments are encouraged to stay open all night for a festival of life. Musicians and performers line the streets of the city centre - for pedestrians only this night. White streamers and white carnival decorations hang on every street light.
Art galleries, The Town Hall in Grand Place, Cathedrals, Churches and even the Bourse, Brussels' tiny Stock exchange is open for visitors all night.
Special food stalls appear, children with waffles and cotton candy follow their parents. Patrons at restaurants spill out on to bulging terraces, feet tapping to the African drums. Adults dancing on the cobblestones, beers in hand. This party is meant to go all night. A romantic and fun night - to be shared with good friends.
We started at PP Cafe for Mint Daiquiris - so good, fresh mint. We wandered to Grand Place for the classical singers, who stood atop a 40-foot podium, dressed in white, singing arias and solos - the amazingly pretty buildings enhanced by blue- white lights as a backdrop. It was so beautiful and peaceful and so right.
We went to Place St. Catherine where they had set-up a Brazilian village. We drank Caiperinhas and ate grilled brochettes, danced, danced, danced. It started to rain. To pour actually. Danced in the rain. Eventually, got a bit too cold and shivery.
We went to the Monk - named for Thelonius Monk - though there's a grand piano in the centre - I have never been there when someone whips it open and jams. Apparently it doesn't happen often. If nothing, it's a warm place to dry off.
Couldn't stay out long enough to take advantage of the free breakfast served all over town at 5am. Too much everything. On the way to hop a cab at 3:30 am we see tons of drummers on the steps of La Bourse with hundreds of revellers dancing on the steps and around the plaza in front. So alive, so fun.
A special night, full of colours, good food, excellent music, fine dancing, fun cocktails, festive moods, happy people.
The flip side - morning (later that day). A request has been made. Sure, I will make a full English breakkie. Nothing else will really do after a night like that.
