Mannheim Steamroller

We went to see Mannheim Steamroller at the Palazzo Casino on Saturday.  I thought maybe we would start a new Christmas tradition.  I really don’t have any Christmas tradition except if you can call the dog peeing on the presents under the tree a “Christmas” tradition.  I was excited since I love Mannheim Steamroller Christmas music and their music is definitely a Christmas tradition every year.  I bought tickets online, prices ranged from $70 to $135.  Thankfully I bought the cheap seats because music is music and in my opinion it really doesn’t matter where you sit in the theater to hear music.  After I purchased the tickets I realized that some of the music I thought was Mannheim was actually Transiberian Orchestra, “On this night, on this very Christmas Night!”  Ok, I love Mannheim music too and both I read are from the same conductor Chip Davis, so that’s why the music sounds so similar!

We made it an evening, having dinner at the Grand Lux Café in the Palazzo right next to the Palazzo Theater.  The Grand Lux (owned by Cheesecake Factory) has an extensive menu, from burgers to steaks and is reasonably priced and very good.  Try the brie wontons and the crispy fried pickles, delicious!!  After dinner we made our way to the Palazzo Theater.  I couldn’t help notice that it looked like the bus from Sun City dropped off ticket holders.  There wasn’t a person under 60 in this crowd. The theater itself is small and the seats are pretty tight.  Thankfully the seats in front of us weren’t occupied so we had a clear view of the stage, which later I came to regret (more later on that).  I started to have my reservations sitting there, the theater reminded me of a high school auditorium, none of the grandeur like the Caesar’s forum or the Mirage theater.  The show starts with a cheesy film clip of Chip Davis behind which Mannheim starts playing.  Ah, there’s the music!  The music swells, the percussion chime, drums, snares, violins my ears are in heaven, until they start showing  cheesy film clips again in what appeared to be very bad clips of animated Christmas movies and not even the classic ones like Rudolph or Frosty.  More like very bad claymation from the 50’s.  You almost expected Burl Ives to start singing.  No HD here, video graphics were terrible!  Then rings drop from the ceiling and performers do a very high schoolish performance on the aerial rings.  Hey don’t they know this is Cirque du Soliel town and anyone who has seen a Cirque production would scoff at this amateur attempt?  During the show, I started to fall asleep, that boring yes, (and I was battling a fierce stomach ache and headache which wasn’t help by the fact that on stage there were light props, no attempt to conceal them either) were pointed directly at the audience and shot out lights blinding one in the eyes.  Several people around us were covering their eyes when the strobe hit us.  Not a pleasant experience and very unsettling.  Then performers dressed in fluffy down vest and matching woolen scarves,( were they an ad for Old Navy?) came on stage to horse around and do flips (why?).  Come on, really?  You’re Mannheim, you don’t need cheesy acrobatics, amateur production numbers and bad videos to support your music.  They would have been better off just playing their famous music.  Why ruin it?  Goodness, this is the Palazzo, one of the more upscale casino’s on the strip, you’d expect this show to be on par with that image.  NOT!! 

In the end it was very disappointing.  As we walked out, one man said to me it was very “amateur” and that was the one befitting word perfectly.  AMATEUR!  Don’t waste your time or money.  Have the nice dinner and then go shopping instead, you’ll get more for your money.

Taking a Sabbatical

Fellow readers, I am taking a sabbatical from blogging. I need to find my inspiration, till then, keep in touch!!

Why Do I Blog?

People ask me why is it that I blog. Sure it's some part of an ego thing, but mostly it's because I feel some sense of keeping my self history alive, a little bit of immortality. Writing a chapter in my autobiography, posting my feelings, remembering the past. Easier than writing a manuscript and sending it away to some editor who will in the end reject it for it's narrow appeal.

When I re-read the post of my mother or father or of my dogs, it always stirs those memories long forgotten and makes them alive and real again.

Like the time we bought a 2 story Victorian house in San Francisco. We had been looking to buy a house for a while when one day a painter, in his painter overalls came to our cafe to buy a latte. I asked him where he was painting and he said he was painting his house to sell. Where? I ask. Down the block he says. Excitedly I call my realtor and tell him we have to see this house, and it's not even listed yet! Back then it was bidding wars to find a real deal and this I felt was the real deal. We see the house that evening. The house was a semi-ruin, but I was smitten. Never mind that the first layer of plaster had been scraped off giving it that rustic Tuscan feel. Never mind that it didn't have sheet rock in the kitchen, just bare studs and a non existent kitchen, never mind that the banister was gone so that one could plunge to their death from the second floor, never mind that the two fireplace mantles had been taken off and not replaced (the painter said that he took them to his house in Minnesota, nothing like raping a beautiful Victorian), and never mind that the parquet on the floor had lost it's glorious luster. I was in love and knew with that gut feeling that this was it. Oh by the way, the bottom flat was in pretty good shape and was rented out. Of course we had to jump through so many hoops to get the lender to approve the loan, like going to Home Depot and fabricating a mock kitchen, lenders won't lend on a property that is not livable. We got the house in the end.

After moving in and the tenants downstairs moved out, my partner in the cafe moved in with his boyfriend (this is San Francisco). The house, a two unit flat built 100 years ago started to act funny. Yeah you heard me, act funny. The house was before the Great Earthquake used to be a girl's boarding school. After the Great Earthquake, the city gave tax breaks to convert stately houses into units, which happened to our house. Unfortunately, they split the house right down the middle and created what they would eventually call a railroad house, long and narrow, but still had it's charm.

But getting back to that acting funny part. I believe that strange occurrences starting happening because the house reached it's hundred year mark. Now, I'm usually a doubting Thomas always more scientific than religious , but the stuff we lived through was thoroughly real.

Take the time when I came home, the red light blinking on the phone showing that there was a message on the machine. I played the message only there was no one there, only a recording of our voices in the cafe. I could hear the conversation we had that morning in the cafe, but I could also hear some weird strange One Step Beyond cello music playing in the back ground. This message went on for 15 minutes, strange since my phone messages only held about a 2 minute recording time per message. I had the phone company check it out. They said that the call came from inside the house. This made the hairs on my arms raise. At Christmas, the guys downstairs left the state for the holidays. We stayed home. One evening we heard the piano playing downstairs, Morzart's 9th Symphony (I know this, it's one of my favorites) and you could hear it really clear from our upstairs bathroom since that is where the grand piano was positioned below. We listened to the music with increasing horror. Hey remember there was no one home downstairs. Even my husband, who is the greatest Doubting Thomas ever, was shocked. We both ran downstairs and out the front. We pressed our ears to their door. The music continued to play, loud and melodic. We quietly inserted our key into the lock, twisted the lock and silently pressed the door open. I could still hear the music playing loudly and from in there, and then when we swung open the door, the music abruptly stopped. I pushed my husband through (he's the man for heaven's sake), I walked behind him. We checkout the salon (as they liked to called it) the front family room and there was the grand piano, silent, mockingly still, mysterious and in the air a sheet of music floating to the ground, Mozart's 9th.
And that is why I blog, to remember those weird and sometimes wonderfully mysterious things that happen in life.

Blogging Bourdain-A Post Revisited

I decided to cook a turkey on Labor Day, which my daughter quizzically says, it isn't Thanksgiving. I promptly tell her that turkey can be eaten any day, any month and any time one needs lots of leftovers for the week. This being only the second week of school and the lunch lines being extremely long for the hot lunch, my daughter is forced to bring her lunch or not eat. So turkey sandwiches sounded good and easy for her lunches, hence roasting a turkey on Labor Day. Therefore, a marathon of No Reservations were in order, since there wasn't much of anything. It was either that or the MDA telethon. How long can one watch people answer phones and an amature talent lineup? Anthony Bourdain starts out on a road trip where the criteria for a road trip is lots of eating, drinking and of course puking, I would think that's his criteria for traveling abroad. He makes a stop at the Salton Sea where he recites an interesting history, of forgone popularity and of abandonment, of too much salt and lots of dead fish, of government purchase with no government benefits. It is here he makes a lunch stop at the community of Bombay Beach, currently home to 270 residents or in this case die hards living on the edge of the salty sea. Here he enters probably the only eating establishment where he orders the patty melt which he says he's never had one. Never had a patty melt? Pigeon necks yes, patty melts no. Do these people in there even know who he is? I think not, when one of them says can you eat and drink on the job? To which Anthony Bourdain says that's what I do. Well heck, where do I sign up? Next it's on to some redneck outpost. It is here that I am furiously surfing since this stretch of the road trip is a napper. They stop somewhere to eat a 72 oz steak, the sounds of Deliverance banjos in the background and somewhere there's a redneck wedding going on. Next it's on to Cartagena, romanticized in the "Romancing the Stone", eating ceviche and strolling through the local market for a lunch at Cecilia's. Cecilia is cooking seafood rice in black kettles on an open flame which looked absolutely delicious, where Anthony Bourdain and his guide, Jorge are lunching on endangered turtle stew, is that legal? Slow cooked and perfect. Next a precariously rough boat ride from Columbia's shore to an island time forgot, for some freshly caught lobsters for lunch. I imagine if you have steady sea legs one might be able to enjoy the fresh catch, me, I'd be seasick for 3 days. Anthony Bourdain ask a local if he prefers to live on the island or live there as he points out to Colombia with it's skyscrapers and big city life. The guy says he rather live here on the island. Who wouldn't? No jobs, no responsibilities, just dive for your supper. Next it's on to San Antonia for the deep fried lower intestines of the pig, could that be pig rectum? I'm not too hot on that even if it's deep fried, but the cornmeal cake with fresca cheese and sweeten condense milk looked awesome, although as a child, I remember I threw up on sweeten condense milk. I ate so much poor man's pudding I puked. Poor man's pudding recipe to follow. The next day Anthony Bourdain ate a breakfast of rice and beans and fried eggs and fried plantains which made my mouth water with hunger. It is those moments I live for, because, Columbia for all it's fighting back against the drug cartels makes my bucket list as one of the last places on earth I plan to visit, Romancing the Stone or not.

Poor Man's pudding-one can of sweetened condensed milk. Put can unopened in a sauce pan, add water and boil for 40 to 50 minutes. Let cool, open can and eat.

For Dad

I was cleaning out a closet the other day and found this old photograph of my father and his parents, Frank and Mary. They were from the old country of Italy and are the typical immigrant story. Grandpa was from Sicily and Grandma was from Naples. They say that you can look up your relatives in Sicily just by saying your name to the people that live there. I bet they would be surprised they have a long lost Asian relative. This photo was taken on the steps of my grandparents house in upstate New York, in a small town called Friendship. I remember spending summers there and when seeing my grandparents for the first time, my grandmother touching my face said "bella, bella". I remembered their house smelled of brown eggs and malt and my dad bringing Grandpa Frank a mysterious bag of hops. Little did I know then Grandpa was a brewmister and brewed his own beer in the cellar. Grandma had chickens in the backyard and grew her own vegetables. I remember the heat of the summers and reading comics in the attic. And when we left for our long car trip back to California, Dad would cry beneath his sunglasses and silently wipe away the tears. When I made a copy of this picture for him, I knew he remember those days and I shared in his longing for them. Happy Father's Day, Dad.

Of All The Dogs I've Loved Before

As we came to the finale of the Greatest American Dog, I stopped to think about all the dogs I have owned and loved. My fellow loving, loyal companions of my past, two which rest in cedar boxes on my library shelf.
My only dog of my childhood was a beagle that we got when I was eleven and lived in Hawaii . Only a few memories linger from "Susie", like the one of the day I was taking her for a walk on the base, (we lived on Barber's Point Navy Base, Oahu), when Susie took the biggest snake of a poop in someone's calla lilies. I remember standing there frozen in sheer terror at the size and it's slithery ability of it snaking down the leaf to the stalk while the homeowner yelled at me from his front porch for me to clean it up! Of the time that Susie had gotten bitten from a centipede in the backyard and almost died and had for the rest of her days eat this horrible smelling dog food that my mother would extract from the can in a solid lump and cut it up into small bite size pieces. And of the day Susie died, my mother standing in the doorway in her blue nightgown and hair net, crying hopelessly. I had never seen her cry before.
The first dog of my young adulthood was Charlie, a mutt that someone was giving away in front of a mall in San Diego while I was attending college. She was smarter than most humans and could jump from a sitting position into your arms. She traveled with us from our house in San Diego to San Francisco, feeling at home anywhere she could sleep between us, head on the pillow, snoring. She would sit across the room by the fireplace staring at my dish because that was how she begged for treats, until one day she no longer did that and chose just to sit next to me barely breathing. When we took her to the vet, they told us she had lung cancer, to which I told the vet that I didn't know she smoked. On her final day I brought her to the vet, she knew it was going to be our last day together and as I hugged her while the vet gave her the shot, I could feel her cold nose press against my cheek, her tongue lick my tears, and felt her swallow her last breath. Now I know how my mother felt that day in her blue nightgown and hair net, crying, hopelessly.
There after it was a series of dogs, mostly big goofy labs. A black one named Peppercorn, who insisted on digging up my roses in the back yard, until one day she made a hole so big it was almost in the neighbor's yard, that I put her in the hole and hosed her down with water until she was a muddy mess. She never dug again. A yellow lab named Fanny, hopelessly sweet and kind hearted, who had a benign fatty tumor on her stomach the size of a small football. A purebred Sheltie named Dottie. The day we went to pick her up at the breeder's farm in Livermore, she came out of the barn with her tiny tips of her ears taped down. She was stubborn and refused to be house broken, until into the 8th month, out of frustration, I held her over the balcony of my three story house and told her if she didn't learn to be potty trained she would end up in the garden. She never made a mess after that and her ears never did stay down. The past has been filled with lovable big dogs, sloppy in their affections. Now we have two small Chihuahua's, Henry and Hazel. Loveable, sweet, kind, terrors!

Anthony Bourdain's Worst Meal Ever!

It was another Sunday when I caught Anthony Bourdain in Namibia. This should be good, anything in Africa promises to be an adventure in dining. Here Tony and the bushman are hunting for their breakfast. No quick stop to the local Starbucks or Mickey D's. Nope, it's dry as dust, what could they possibly be hunting for? Why ostrich eggs of course. Tony has a pang of sympathy (for their meager find) which probably should have lasted a lot longer so he could have come to his senses and bowed out of breakfast with the Bushman, leaving them to consume their precious find, but where's the adventure in that? The Bushman tell Tony that they are going to make breakfast right there on the spot. Humm, says Tony? Right here? Not a kettle or pot within 200 miles. Patience, wait for it. Apparently the Bushman are experts at the spontaneous. They quickly heat the ground with their coals. Carefully they make a hole at the top of the ostrich egg, poke a stick through it to scramble the contents. After the sand is sufficiently hot, they flatten the dirt out in a nice circle. Yikes, where's the fry pan I gasp! The Bushman dump the contents of the egg onto the dirt and then proceed to cover the eggs with more dirt and wood. Ugh! Tony is amazing calm during all this dirt cooking. I would be retching in the bush. What seems like an interminable amount of time to cook, for god sakes, it's just eggs Tony says, the Bushman uncover their meal, a baked dirt frittata. They pry pieces of the ash covered eggs, never you mind that it is covered in ash, dirt and whatever dung might be on the land and eat with relish. Tony however is trying to dust his piece off, what's a little grit among friends? Arguably possibly the worst meal I have ever seen on this show! But wait there's more. A warthog dinner is next to what Tony calls his worst meal ever. How quickly he forgets the baked dirt frittata! Tony goes hunting again, a lot of hunting on this episode, where he actually kills the poor creature. Here he gets to sample some of the more juicy parts of the warthog, namely the rectum and brains. When Tony says the tree beetles were the best thing he ate all day, you know it had to be bad. We don't get to see Tony puke his guts, but I'm sure it was on his mind. And when Tony says it's bad, it's got to be bad. Move over Andrew Zimmern!

The Things My Mother Taught Me

My mother adopted me when she was well into her forties. She was raised in the Great Depression era. Her mother died at an early age. I remember her telling the story of when her mother died and how her lifeless body was put on the dining room table until they were able to take her away and in those days it was not a expedient process. She was fourteen. She married my dad, whom she saw at a USO club and told her girlfriend that she was going to marry that short guy over there. Years later after she had tried unsuccessfully to get pregnant, they were station in Japan and there they went to an orphanage where I was adopted. Their first look at my picture elicited the words, "but I thought we were adopting a girl." "Hai, Hai" said the orphanage director. I was all of three, barefoot, in overalls, and had a bowl haircut. My mom said that when they brought me home, I could speak to the Japanese maid, but I was still terrified of the strange people that brought me there. She said when she went to get me in my room I was no where to be found. They eventually found me hiding in the closet, with my nap sack with my clothes from the orphanage and my one sole possession, a ball. My mother is gone now and I have followed in her footsteps, adopting a little girl from China, paying it forward and on this Mother's Day these are the things my mother taught me.
Always take a sweater in case you get cold

Always pee before you leave the house for a long car trip

A love for all animals

Keeping an open mind and exercise tolerance

Her love of adventure and travel

and most importantly

And her love of home and family

Happy Mother's Day Mom, always in our memories, always in our hearts.

Las Vegas Cheap Eats-Krazy Buffet

I live in Las Vegas, so I should every once in a while let you know of some cheap eats here, after all, that is what I'm about when I travel to another city or country. It seems like the buffets here have gotten expensive especially on the strip where you will pay around 20+. There are some casinos offering a $44.00 buffet pass good for a 24 hour grazing and I suppose that's worth it if you can eat that much food in one day.

I remembered the days when my in-laws would say you could drop a lot of money on the tables but you could eat cheap, not so much so anymore, so when I find a cheap buffet and it's reasonably good I go back. Which takes us to Krazy Buffet (Asian inspired) and krazy good! It's not any where near the strip which probably explains the cheap price, but if you find yourself on the westside (near the Lakes) it's worth the money and the stop. High praise from someone like me, jaded from the array of buffets in town.

I couldn't wait for it to opened a few years back and the price was so cheap, $10.95, I was like they could never keep these prices low what with all the crab you can eat, it has to go up. Well, it stayed at the amazingly low price until just recently. We were there last week after a month long absence, the food was plentiful and the variety amazing, but they did raise their price to $11.95 for dinner. A small increase to pay for an incredible display of seafood and sushi. The offerings: Snow crab always restocked steaming and hot, a variety of sushi and fresh sashmi tuna, California rolls, spicy tuna, tekka maki and other assorted sushi rolls. Soups include won ton, egg drop and a great miso soup loaded with seaweed and tofu. The buffet of Chinese dishes displayed are salt and pepper crab claws (delicious) or salt and pepper shrimp, chow mein, orange chicken, large raw oysters, mini clams in a delicious black bean sauce, ginger garlic tilaipia, sauteed Chinese greens, asparagus, pot stickers, spicy chicken wings, chow mein and fried rice. Are you hungry now? Desserts offerings, fresh fruit, mini cakes and my favorite sesame balls filled with red bean paste, don't say yuck until you try them fried warm and delicious!

Psst-Please don't let the cat out of the bag, I hate waiting for a table!

8095 West Sahara Avenue, Las Vegas, NV 89117-1958(702) 869-6699. Locals look for their 10% coupons in the Summerlin newsletter.

Trader Joe's Thai Green Curry Sauce And My Chicken Thigh Recipe

I think you are either a curry person or not. For me I’m not or so I thought until I happened upon a restaurant while away for work in DC. I’ve written a post about this place, Big Bowl in Town Center, Reston VA. They are the kind of place, pick your sauce, pick your meat, pick your veggies. So I picked the crispy chicken with green curry sauce. How bold, how daring since I don’t even like curry. Let me tell you it was sheer heaven. Every time I have to travel to DC for work, I’m panting for the Big Bowl. But this post is not about Big Bowl, yes you are good and yes you need to open a restaurant here in Vegas, this post is about finding the next best thing to Big Bowl or at least to making your own Thai Green Curry. Trader Joe’s Thai Green Chili Sauce.

First let me say, I love, love, love Trader Joe’s and if it were closer to my house I’d be there every week. Yesterday when I was there, I just happened across the Thai Green Curry Sauce. Of course I’m always a little wary of bottled sauces, they never live up to their promises, either no taste or weird taste.

So I’m planning Sunday dinner. What to have? I’m thinking some kind of chicken thigh recipe Thai or Vietnamese style, you know with lots of veggies. I saw a Rachel Ray recipe where she made some Asian inspired chicken dish that she poured over chopped head lettuce. That sounded so good.

So here’s my take, delicious, healthy and extra fabulous with Trader Joe’s Thai Green Curry Sauce!

1 package of chicken thighs (my daughter won’t eat any other part of the chicken-too dry she whines!)

Place thighs in a bowl. Add soy sauce (or teriyaki sauce) grated ginger (did you know you can freeze ginger root-peel and freeze and so easy to grate frozen-that’s a Rachel Ray tip!) add garlic.

Refrigerate for an hour or two. 1 red bell pepper (sliced thin) ½ package of shredded carrots 1 shallot (chopped) 3 minced garlic In saute pan, heat up olive oil and add shallots, cook till tender, add thighs and cook till brown.

Now you can either slice up the chicken thighs before cooking, but I think it’s easier to do when they are finished cooking. Take out of pan and when cool enough to handle slice up the chicken thighs.

Add a couple of drops of sesame oil to the same pan you cooked the chicken in, when pan is hot add sliced chicken thighs, red bell pepper and garlic.

Toss until hot and add Trader Joe’s Thai Green Curry Sauce. I used about a little less than half the jar. Stir until sauce is heated.

Chop ½ head of lettuce and put on platter

Cook up ½ package of Mifune rice noodles, drain and put on top of head lettuce

Pour chicken and sauce over lettuce and noodles

Top with bunches of cilantro and mint

I added ½ chopped jalapeno to my dish, I like things extra hot, but the sauce alone has the perfect kick to it.

Two words, OMG good! Even my fussy 13 year old daughter said she loved it. I had to refrain myself from licking the fry pan it’s that good! What’s not to love from this dish, it has salad, meat and veggies and pasta, and it’s tasty and healthy!