Real Chicago Beef in town, Cubbies in the Playoffs?? Hallelujah!

Chi-Town 165  Dr MLK Jr Street North, St Petersburg Florida
Happy Happy me!  My daughter went to pick up lunch so I could elevate my bum leg for awhile.  She is as thrilled as I am with our Chicago beef sandwiches, wet with hot peppers.  So good, absolutely delicious.  Better than remembered and they traveled well.  Little piggies that we are, we got 4 dogs for later.  Three Chicago dogs through the garden and a Chili dog with mustard, cheese and onion.  I had to try my chili dog, good snap, yummy chili and fixin's.  I was threatened that if her Chicago dogs come up missing there will be h-e-double hockey sticks to pay.  I'll feast on my dog later.  Topped this fantastic lunch with some celebratory champagne.  Meatballs, thanks buddy for a fine lunch.  We are already planning which friends to bring next visit.  You are a special kind of fun.  Mini-me approved and she is a tough critic.  Time for a nap.

In a former life time I was known as "Tina, the Tourguide."  Maybe I gained my nickname because of my penchant for telling 'people where to go' or maybe not.   My former employ as a resort front desk manager allowed me to indulge in tasting, trying and then recommending restaurants for our diverse base of guests. It was the favorite part of my job....investigating what was new, what was popular and what would be a good fit for the diner.  I was not compensated then or now for my dining choices, it is purely my personal opinion on finding the best tasting restaurants, value or splurge, family or intimate, to recommend to either guests or friends.  That being said, I do have a personal bias to the old St. Pete establishments as a life long resident of the city I love.  I am drawn to visit and review the places that have been re-vitalized into something new from my recollections.

Time to Chill!

I am in love with Chill in their new digs.  Ruthie has done an admirable remodel to the space and the front dining area is open to the fine fall air.  Very nice and good sidewalk seating too.
I was very fortunate to have a fine lunch with one of my favorite food bloggers, Denise Parker of the Epicurean Perils of Sweet Polly and WTFotk, at Chill yesterday.  We were pampered by John, an affable, more than competent server with the most delightful accent.  He could read the classified ads to me and I would be enthralled.  

We pored over the menu and decided to share the Goat cheese, sundried tomato and fig terrine.  

It was served with a basket of crisp bread for spreading the yummy cheese goodness.  A nice combination of savory and sweet to awaken the taste buds.   My gracious dining companion allowed me to order the Grilled Cheese 2.0 and she chose the Black and Blue salad.  John assured my friend the kitchen would gladly modify the salad and would eliminate the tomatoes from her dish. I must hasten to add we were enjoying generous pours of the house wine, as well.   

The grilled cheese was a very engaging taste explosion of melted mild cranberry cheese, sliced pears, bacon and a delicious orange marmalade aioli.  The plate also featured lightly seasoned crisp fries. 

 The Black and Blue salad was topped with a perfectly cooked medium rare steak and a tasty sherry vinaigrette.  (I adore sherry wine vinegar).  A very fine lunch indeed, 

 It took only a little arm twisting to add a dessert to end our meal.  The famous dessert combining a chocolate brownie and red velvet cake in a  glorious dome of moist goodness.  There was a crispy edge that yielded to a tender center. Topped off with a scoop of good ice cream and a caramel drizzle, it was a delicious morsel to share. Oh so good.  It was very nice to have the kind and friendly Ruthie check on our satisfaction.

Our meal was a perfect treat on a Friday afternoon.  I look forward to visiting Chill again. Might I add that John told us that the lovely brie appetizer on the dinner menu could be ordered at lunch.  The kitchen would be happy to oblige, just ask. I find that willingness to accommodate the taste whims of a dining guest refreshing in this world of no substitutions.  An appetizer, two entrees, a dessert and (ahem) six glasses of wine was a very reasonable 75.00 dollars, excluding the gratuity for the personable John.  I urge you to visit Chill and do just that, chill out for a few  hours with the company of a friend.  You will feel infinitely better to face the rest of your busy day.

 
In a former life time I was known as "Tina, the Tourguide."  Maybe I gained my nickname because of my penchant for telling 'people where to go' or maybe not.   My former employ as a resort front desk manager allowed me to indulge in tasting, trying and then recommending restaurants for our diverse base of guests. It was the favorite part of my job....investigating what was new, what was popular and what would be a good fit for the diner.  I was not compensated then or now for my dining choices, it is purely my personal opinion on finding the best tasting restaurants, value or splurge, family or intimate, to recommend to either guests or friends.  That being said, I do have a personal bias to the old St. Pete establishments as a life long resident of the city I love.  I am drawn to visit and review the places that have been re-vitalized into something new from my recollections.

Baroque Rococo, say yes to the exquisite flair in food and decor.

A single roasted pearl onion with explosive flavor was the eye opener to our experience at Rococo.  A single bite with that much taste showed the care and expertise of the kitchen with each delicious ingredient. A pearl onion to rival the "Girl with the Pearl Earring."  My daughter and I had circled downtown St. Pete in the driving rain looking for dinner.  Parking was at a premium and the long waits at some establishments were interminable. (The Mill, Brick & Mortar, Station House).  We wanted a fine cocktail and food and we wanted it now.  As the designated driver, my darling patient (ahem) child was getting increasingly irritated as I told her to turn left here and "trust me" one more time.



We were greeted warmly.  Olivia gasped when she saw the dining room.  "Simply stunning" were her words.  It is singularly dramatic in decor and that defines baroque. The deep charcoal grey walls, red chandeliers, sconces, vibrant art and white upholstered chairs are striking.  The upholstered banquettes were inviting.  We did NOT have a reservation and the hostess was able to seat us before the bartender could complete our drink order.  She with her favorite dirty martini with blue cheese stuffed olives and I with the Cucumber Fresca (tequila, muddled cucumber, mint and a splash of sparkle).  We were seated in a comfortable room with vaulted ceilings that evoked a wine barrel.  Glass window displays would rival Macy's with fabulous representative prime champagnes in various sizes from magnum to rehoboam.  Talk about wish list!  My girl said before we even ordered that if she were to get married, this would be her choice for the rehearsal dinner,  We did raise her well.  After all life is a matter of taste.

Our waiter, Dan, explained the many special items for the evening.  Fresh East coast and West coast oysters on the half shell, available in any increment, the featured salad, fish and steak cuts not on the regular menu.  He explained the ala carte service and menu selections.  Grass fed and corn fed beef are available including the elusive bone-in filet.

My mini-me ordered the goat cheese pie and I chose the foie gras pain perdu.  Her pie arrived with a deeply colored crispy crust and what I would describe as a goat cheese cake filling with a side of arugula and poached pears dressed most simply with a fig dressing.  Mini-me swooned, as did I with the creamy dense tart savory pie.  My torchon of foie gras was gently pan seared and served on top of a Grand Marnier toast of eggy brioche and sprinkled with salted hazelnuts, a drizzle of pomegranate balsamic enriching this delicacy. The floral note of the Grand Marnier and pomegranate stilled the slight mineral taste to the foie gras.  The crisp hazelnut provided the perfect contrast in texture.  Small as it should be with a power packed punch to the palate.

We could NOT pass up sharing a bowl of the corn lobster bisque.  A personal Kryptonite for mother and daughter.  The kitchen kindly split a portion of this warm bisque.  It was quite generous.  We laughed because we each dared the other to pick up the bowl and lick it.  It was that good.  It was intensely deeply lobsterly with undertones of sherry, mushroom and corn.  One of the best that we have tried.

Service was quite competent and Dan was very apologetic at the slow pace for our entrees, we didn't mind the leisurely pace because we were so comfortable.  We had a lovely bottle of Duck Decoy to sip and savor while we waited for the kitchen to catch up.  Olivia ordered the 12 oz. Roasted Prime rib with au jus and horseradish cream.  It was a perfect medium rare and the cut was lovely.  The bite I had was seasoned perfectly with enough salt to enhance the beefiness.  Sauce was not necessary.  Now this is where that pearl onion entered the picture.  She had two picture perfect roasted baby carrots and three pearl onions as garnish.  I got a single onion and the deep caramelized flavor epitomized the simplest garnish done well.  I ordered the wild wood grilled salmon with kale, boar bacon (!!!!) and lemon oil, medium rare.  It was sublime.  Rococo might have singularly converted me to kale.  Naturally because we ALWAYS over order, we had a family style serving of creamed spinach and chef made potato coins (shreds of russet potatoes and herbs, a fat flat crispy tater tot).  Olivia had been to Ruth Chris' Steak house last week and raved over their creamed spinach.  Hand's down she said Rococo was better. RC can't come close to the Rococo version.  It was incredibly creamy and cheesy.  It ain't easy being green, but this was spectacular.  The crispy "tots" were yummy.  We brought most of each home.  (I made a spinach omelette with tots for my hard working girl for breakfast).

Now at this point after packing up our to-go boxes, Dan cruelly (just kidding) suggested dessert.  WTH, why not?  In for a penny, in for a pound.  My petite chou chose the chocolate peanut butter tower. It was flippin fantastic. The peanut butter mousse and graham cracker base was enrobed in dark chocolate and garnished with fresh barely sweet whipped cream. I picked the apple bread pudding which was a masterful representation of yummy.  I was served a warm slab of moist apple brioche, caramel sauce and creme anglaise.  As we sat back and sighed with pleasure, we topped off our meal with a snifter of Grand Marnier and Disaronno on the rocks respectively.

When an independent restaurant demonstrates extreme care in the minute details of a meal and you are prepared to wait for perfection, I highly recommend Rococo as a fine dining destination.  Stylish, chic and delicious.

The manager was most gracious as we were leaving.  He made sure we didn't melt in the rain.  Please support the independent restaurants and when you want to pull out all the stops, visit and enjoy the romance of Rococo.  $$$$ yes, but worth every restorative moment. Photo borrowed from website.  My apologies for the lack of pictures, my camera ended up in a puddle earlier in the day.



In a former life time I was known as "Tina, the Tourguide."  Maybe I gained my nickname because of my penchant for telling 'people where to go' or maybe not.   My former employ as a resort front desk manager allowed me to indulge in tasting, trying and then recommending restaurants for our diverse base of guests. It was the favorite part of my job....investigating what was new, what was popular and what would be a good fit for the diner.  I was not compensated then or now for my dining choices, it is purely my personal opinion on finding the best tasting restaurants, value or splurge, family or intimate, to recommend to either guests or friends.  That being said, I do have a personal bias to the old St. Pete establishments as a life long resident of the city I love.  I am drawn to visit and review the places that have been re-vitalized into something new from my recollections.

Stillwaters Tavern does run deep....

Stillwaters run deep. 1.proverb~a quiet or placid manner may conceal a more passionate nature.
After very satisfying lunch at Stillwaters Tavern last week, I find that the Tavern does show their passion where it counts, in their service, sourcing of food stuffs and preparation of a lovely meal. I appreciate the calm aesthetic in the decor. The reclaimed wood and slightly nautical touches are soothing especially when the noon lunch crowd arrived. I particularly like the tall black booths. They give a sense of intimacy and you are not subjected to other conversations.

I had the delightful companionship of Denise Parker, blogger extraordinaire (The Epicurean Perils of Sweet Polly) and author of the WTFork column with the Tampa Tribune. We were seated close to the kitchen area and even though the restaurant became increasingly busy, having a conversation was easy. I liked the capped bottle of chill water presented by our waiter Paul. He was attentive and willing to answer questions about the menu. He knew when to offer a refill on our wine. (Immediately.) I like the offer of a large pour and the many choices by the glass.

We decided to share a plate of fried oysters as our appetizer. The oysters were lightly coated and extra crispy. They included a few deep fried vegetables such as carrot, cauliflower and hot cherry pepper. A mustard aioli was a spicy dipping sauce. The oysters definitely reminded me of an Italian fritto misto, mixed seafood and veggies deep fried. It was excellent.

Onto the main dish, since Denise was a repeat customer I listened to her comments on the Shrimp and grits and chose it as my dish. She chose the Airline chicken. Let me tell you THAT chicken was the single finest piece of chicken I've tasted in ages. Off the chart, flavorful, tender and juicy. Bless Denise for sharing some of the jalapeno cheddar cornbread as well. Be still my heart. Forgive me, I have to say it, "Winner Winner chicken dinner."

 I was very pleased with my Key West pinks. The shrimp were firm and properly cooked. The stone ground cheddar grits beat the pants off any other grits in town. This was notyourmommas' baby pablum. There was a nice texture and heft to the grits and the flavor was delicious. Note that the shrimp has a mustard wine sauce. It was reminiscent of Eastern NC bbq sauce. It is not a typical sauce and I thoroughly enjoyed the mustard punch.

Of course we saved room for dessert. My dining companion chose the apple blueberry crumble with whiskey cream. Don't you want to have some now? It arrived in a small cast iron skillet. The aroma was intoxicating. There is something to be said of the aroma of cinnamon and brown sugar. The crumble was not soggy as some can be. A credible crumble in my book. 

But I do believe I hit the chocolate jackpot with my dark chocolate cremeaux with peanut butter pretzel and chocolate caviar. It was chocolate nirvana. The cremeaux is denser than a mousse and we were instructed to dig down to get all the layers. It was divine. It was rich and decadent. Passion under Stillwaters, indeed.

A wonderful addition to our restaurant row and I look forward to visiting again soon.  Plus, anytime sharing delicious food with a kindred spirit is a day brightener and a highlight of my week.  Til we eat again, m'dear.

 

In a former life time I was known as "Tina, the Tourguide."  Maybe I gained my nickname because of my penchant for telling 'people where to go' or maybe not.   My former employ as a resort front desk manager allowed me to indulge in tasting, trying and then recommending restaurants for our diverse base of guests. It was the favorite part of my job....investigating what was new, what was popular and what would be a good fit for the diner.  I was not compensated then or now for my dining choices, it is purely my personal opinion on finding the best tasting restaurants, value or splurge, family or intimate, to recommend to either guests or friends.  That being said, I do have a personal bias to the old St. Pete establishments as a life long resident of the city I love.  I am drawn to visit and review the places that have been re-vitalized into something new from my recollections.

Promises fulfilled at The Maritana Grille at the Don CeSar

I recently fulfilled a promise to my late husband, to follow through with a special dinner our daughters' 24th birthday.  It had to be a special meal because we were trying to top a cruise for her 21st, (yes, we are those parents; the back story of our life does not equal spoiled girl, by any means). The restaurant of choice was where my love proposed to me 31 years ago, not with ring but the promise of a Persian kitten.  (Okay, I'm a bit goofy).  So we went to the Maritana Grille at the Don CeSar.  We also stayed at a suite on our honeymoon at the pink palace.  His surprise to me.



The food was beyond delicious. Jeff, our server, was knowledgeable in food and wine. Service was perfect white linen service, with fresh flatware per course, chilled when necessary.  (Personal peeve, not getting fresh flatware and being chastised by the server, you need to keep it).  I was furnished a black napkin for my dark dress to prevent any white pilling,  Thank you.  There are aquariums lining the walls, not the touristy Rum Fish size, but just big enough to provide entertainment without being overwhelming. The albino unicorn fish is cool. 

The daughter and I each had a cocktail. a dirty martini for her and a blonde Cosmo for me. We were served an amuse bouche, a jellied cucumber melon caviar with tiny microflowers.

She ordered the crab bisque. "You can't eat this soup standing up; your knees will buckle." nee Seinfeld.   Jeff gave us a detailed description of how the corn stock was infused with crab shells to provide the perfect briny touch to the reduced stock that thickened the bisque without cream.  The bowl had crab, corn and chorizo that were a perfect marriage with the rich stock.  She swooned.  Jeff had a service trick that tickled her funny bone.  Maritana, match point for clever service; her look was priceless, thank you.

I had the super fresh Wahoo crudo with crab, micro green salad and avocado mousse. It was sublime. The wahoo was torched slightly with a citrus soy glaze before assembly. Four types of bread (olive, baguette, sweet buns and pumpernickle) were offered with two flavored butter squares, one herbal and one with Parmesan.

We split a Caesar salad which was a completely unnecessary course.  It was a tasty rendition but with the spectacular overload of what we were tasting, the Caesar was superfluous.  Although this notyourmomma would eat three of the Parmesan fricos in 10 seconds if challenged.

My budding gourmand ordered the rack of lamb, medium rare, with gnocchi, sauteed mushrooms and a sherry demi-glace of lamb stock. She was astonished on how good the lamb tasted. (Perhaps, because I've only made lamb shanks from the Old Country and daddy only ate lamb rare doused in mint jelly, neither a favorite for her)  This lamb was a definite knocked out of the park entree.  The depth of subtle flavors were mesmerizing.

I had the Lobster pappardelle with melted brie, leeks asparagus and shaved black truffle. It was so rich, redolent of earthy truffle, a sauce seasoned deeply with ocean goodness, fresh spring vegetables and a tender noodle. It was served in a deep bowl and every single bite spoke volumes.

You would think we would throw in the towel at that point. But no, we soldiered on. We each ordered an espresso, took a deep breath and ordered Chocolate Sin and the Reveal. My daughter had a "When Harry met Sally" moment over the huge white chocolate egg that when a hot chocolate sauce was poured over, petals opened to reveal a ethereal peanut butter mousse and a crackle toffee peanut blondie.

I had a deliriously delicious chocolate truffle with a salted caramel ice cream, a tuile and a chocolate frico. It was sinful as advertised.

 We shared a lovely bottle of red from New Zealand, a red blend, "Craggy Range" ($65,00).  Jeff topped us off with a couple of raspberry truffles candies,   The coup de grace were our snifters of Grand Marnier for me and Amaretto for the girl. This was not a cheap or even moderate dining experience but it was a necessary healing bonding meal between mother and daughter.

I'm happy I was able to give the child a special meal from her dear daddy. It was a one of a kind of meal.  Our meal and tip came to $370.00 dollars.  Meal, beverage, tax was $295.00.  As a former server and the daughter as a current server, we tip according to the service provided; Jeff was worth it. 

First genuine smile from my baby girl in months  We have decided that we can hit the Maritana Grille for the crab corn  bisque, bowl for each, share a cheese plate and get TWO Reveal desserts with a bottle of sparkling wine and celebrate life. The life we remember, the life we live and the life ahead.  Rest in Peace, my beloved.  Always in our heart and a promise fulfilled.  Promises kept.  I love you Fred, always and forever.

In a former life time I was known as "Tina, the Tourguide."  Maybe I gained my nickname because of my penchant for telling 'people where to go' or maybe not.   My former employ as a resort front desk manager allowed me to indulge in tasting, trying and then recommending restaurants for our diverse base of guests. It was the favorite part of my job....investigating what was new, what was popular and what would be a good fit for the diner.  I was not compensated then or now for my dining choices, it is purely my personal opinion on finding the best tasting restaurants, value or splurge, family or intimate, to recommend to either guests or friends.  That being said, I do have a personal bias to the old St. Pete establishments as a life long resident of the city I love.  I am drawn to visit and review the places that have been re-vitalized into something new from my recollections.

Here's the plan, Stan

I do solemnly swear to start off this week with preparation and cook ahead meals to keep us on budget.  Since I've been on short term disability leave and my paycheck is greatly diminished, I have to be creative with our freezer stash and pantry items to feed the family.  It is far easier to prep ahead a few meals and resist the lure of the telephone dial to 727FoodNow or the local pizza delivery.

Step one of meal planning and preparation is figuring out the menu for the week.
I try to vary the protein and sides so that my loving husband does not have to endure chicken overload.  He is a carnivore of the finest kind.  I, however, love my veggies with a small side of meat.  We are literally Jack Sprat and Wife.  We shop the sales circulars and plan the meals for what is the best price.

Step two of the cooking process is read over the recipes, even those you know like the back of your hand.  I can't tell you how often I've begun cooking only to find I'm missing a key ingredient.  Brain fog is a terrible trait.

Step three is to process like items in bulk.  If 3 of 6 items call for chopped onions, chop all the onions at once, divide and conquer!  I utilize small bowls to assemble my mis en place for each recipe.  The granite counter top may look like chaos, but it is my organized chaos.

Step four-fix any marinades and put your delicious dish in the refrigerator to wait for its turn in the dinner line up.  (Mojo chicken thighs)

Step five-if you have items that need to salt and strain, put them in colander to do their thing.  (eggplant and napa cabbage)

Step six-Assemble sauces (roasted red pepper pasta sauce, sassy Jezebel sauce). Cook the rice and portion out.  Make the salad dressings, store in the refrigerator and have at the ready when a salad craving hits (strawberry vinaigrette).  Fix the snacks for lunches (ham salad with horseradish pickles, pimento cheese with jalapenos)

Step eight-assemble dishes into storage containers, label and date.  Group all items for a single meal together in your refrigerator.  Print the menu and keep on the refrigerator.  Note any fresh purchases needed.  (Fruit salad night)

Step nine-assemble any batters or muffin mixes and refrigerate the batter to scoop and bake as needed in the morning.  A hot bran muffin will move you out of the slumber into action.

Step ten-dial the pizza man and order in dinner, you are to tired to do anything else.......I'm kidding!!!

Menu for the week in no particular order:

Chicken thighs/sausage in white bean ragout.  Roasted Ratatouille, mais oui!
Leftover ratatouille will fill a ramekin, egg added in the center and baked for an early easy morning repast.

Slow roasted pork roast, collard greens (smoked ham, onions/garlic) and Southern corn bread.  Mom's Cukes/maters/slivered Vidalia onion salad in sour cream.

Roast Beef with garlic/rosemary rub, Salty Balls Maui Style, Those Blasted Tomatoes, Roasted brussel sprouts, mixed salad with strawberry balsamic vinaigrette (crumbled blue cheese and toasted slivered almonds for taste and texture).

Bibimpap using leftover pulled pork served with crispy rice cake and fresh julienned veggies (slivered cucumbers, carrot straws, sprouts, pickled red onion, daikon), poached egg and Tyler Florence's quick kimchee.  Tapioca pudding with a brulee finish to gild the lily.

Smoked paprika/zatar rubbed chicken breasts grilled, rice pilaf with pistachios and cran-raisins, toasted pita bread.  Shredded romaine salad with tzatziki sauce.

Eggplant Parmesan with roasted red pepper and basil tomato sauce.  Sauteed Italian sausages, garlic bread.   Tiramisu ice cream from the freezer, topped with homemade chocolate syrup.

Mojo marinated chicken thighs, roasted and served with Moros y Cristianos (Black beans and rice).  Watermelon, pineapple, basil, green onion salad.

Eastern Carolina style slow smoked pulled pork, old fashioned pea salad, coleslaw with sassy Jezebel sauce.  Dinner rolls.

Blinged out Bran Banana Blueberry Muffin mix.
Ham salad with horseradish pickles
Jalapeno Pimento Cheese spread
Leftover roast beef made into a sandwich on Chicago rolls with homemade Giardinaira
Leftover pulled pork on Cuban bread with ham/pickles/swiss cheese and mustard, pressed.

My increasing infatuation with The Big Rooster, El Gallo Grande

As a lifelong urban girl, I've had very little experience with farms or homesteads. I've never been able to fully explain my attraction to farm animals, particularly chickens, roosters and goats.  I can remember a vacation or two with my momma to West Virginia to visit my Great Aunt Mabel.  I loved every minute with that no-nonsense practical woman.  My sister and I played in the stream on the mud flats.  We would climb trees and pick apples for her.  She would have a big iron pot on a wood fire stirring down her homemade apple butter, we would watch the ash float in the deep brown apple cinnamon mixture and hear her say, "A little ash won't hurt us."   She had us milking the cows and gathering eggs.  I can still hear her hearty laughter over the "little city girl" afraid of a laying hen.

She was a dear God-fearing woman with a huge heart.   Those are memories dear to my heart and over the years I've collected a rather large collection of ceramic, wooden, and iron roosters.  They were displayed in nearly every room.....until my husband put his foot down and said, "Enough."  So I can't bring any more big roosters home.

So imagine my delight when a short distance from our home, I heard of a new restaurant opening in the space formerly occupied by Basta's.  (Basta's was a very romantic dinner spot for us and we missed them greatly when they closed.)
El Gallo Grande, The Big Rooster has officially opened and we have had two meals at the newly redecorated establishment.

 The remodeled building is a treat for the eyes.  There are hand painted murals inside and out, including some fine renditions of my favorite roosters.  The outside rear wall by the parking area features a lovely painted poster of a Mexican movie star.  Inside the walls are a bright shade of yellow with Day of the Dead Sugar Skulls and Mexican wrestler murals providing visual interest.  The cove lighting in the ceilings is an ever-changing rainbow of colors.  The main room features communal tall tables and a very busy bar.

Now to the most important part of any restaurant...the food and service.  The menu is limited in options but never fear, my gringo friend, the food is fabulous. The offerings are a very concise accurate taste of true Mexico.  This is not a Tex-mex restaurant, it is not an Americanized hybrid of Mexican flavors.  The food is fresh and as vibrant as the colors overhead.

The basket of fried corn tortillas were fresh and crisp.  The salsa presented with the chips was delicious.  It was a bit thinner than the commercial variety from the jar salsas and the freshness was a highlight.  We ordered the guacamole at both of our visits.  It is the BEST guacamole I have ever tasted in a restaurant.  As a matter of fact, it puts my own attempts of the dish to shame.  The ratio of lime, cilantro, tomato and avocado chunkiness is far superior to any other version I've tried.  We did order for my gringo hubby a dish of the hot cheese, fundido.  He totally dug into that melty cheese with gusto.

At our late lunch visit, I had the chiles rellenos with the refried bean puree and rice.  The chiles rellenos were excellent.  The fresh poblanos were roasted, peeled and stuffed.  One had a chorizo stuffing and the other was stuffed with cheese and deep fried in an ethereal light batter.  El Gallo Grande did a very nice plate presentation and it was delicious on the palate.  My dear hubby had the steak with poblano peppers.  He was very happy with his skirt steak, cooked a perfect medium.  He had some warm fresh tortillas to make his own barbacoa tacos.
The menu features chicken tinga tacos, carnitas, chicken mole and daily entree specials.  A variety of tacos and tortas are offered lunch and dinner.  Our lunch service was prompt and swift.  Hubby had a bit of a hissy because they were out of his favorite beer, but once he found a suitable substitute he calmed down.  I had a blast trying a few of the specialty margaritas.  The Paloma, grapefruit margarita was my favorite.  The house margarita was a fine rendition as well.

Our dinner visit was a celebratory meal to welcome home our daughter, the traveling caregiver.  (She was gone for 40 days to care for her godmother who was undergoing chemotherapy in the midst of a move between homes.)
We scarfed down the chips, salsas once they arrived tableside.  We were voraciously hungry.  However, our server was a bit scattered.  He has obviously never learned to multi-task, he was the kind of waiter who would visit the adjacent table, run off to kitchen or bar and skip right over us without checking our needs on his way past.  Working one table exclusively and ignoring the next table is inexcusable.  It takes 30 seconds to acknowledge the next table and you can certainly piggyback the orders to the bar and the kitchen to prevent long delays in service.  It took well over 25 minutes for the cervesa and margaritas to appear. The appetizers were delivered separately.  We later found out the kitchen was out of guacamole and they quickly rallied and made a new batch which was delivered by the owner with his apologies.  Thank you, sir.

We got the specials of the day recited by the owner and although I was set to have the chiles rellenos again, I was persuaded to have the skirt steak with the chimichurri sauce and skinny fries.  It was so good.  I'd slather that chimichurri on a flip flop and eat it.  I had to slap hands to keep the daughter from dipping into my sauce.  The other special was a fresh catch (I can't remember the fish~blame the margarita) with sauce Veracruz, freshly diced tomatoes, olives, poblanos and onions.  I wanted one of my dining partners to try it but I couldn't persuade them.  It just means I have to go back for the Fish Veracruz.  The prodigal daughter had the chicken tinga tacos.  She was very happy with her dish. The cabbage was slivered finely and the flavor of the chicken was just right.  The hubby abandoned his steak for a chicken enchilada with verde sauce.  He was most impressed with the filling and sauce.  It did not blister his gringo tongue. Hubby said he was willing on the next visit to try the mole sauce.  Javier, the owner, suggested that he would custom make the enchiladas with one each of the three sauces, red, green and mole.  Very nice of him to offer a customized dish.

We had a great conversation with Javier and he explained in detail the preparation of the poblanos and how he has refused to use a "fresh frozen" product. His staff prepares the peppers fresh daily.  It was a nice to see his pride in serving authentic Mexican food.  He has convinced me to try the ceviche on our next visit.  How can you judge the freshness of the food,  well, by eating raw fish dish?  What better test than a ceviche?  I can't argue with his logic at all.

For dessert, we were shown a lovely flan with swirls of caramel and raspberry sauces, but we simply did not have any room to try a bite of the glistening beauty.

Even though we were unhappy with the service our second visit, the food was well worth the wait.  The atmosphere, food and drink are a very happy addition to the South St. Pete scene.  We will exercise our lessons in patience and give the Big Rooster our business.  There are other dishes we want to try and the vibrant, fresh El Gallo Grande has us clucking like content hens.

Blueberry Ice cream Sundae

I was recently gifted several Food and Home magazines to read.  An indulgence or expense I don't allow in my budget constraints, much less having the free time to peruse said periodicals monthly.  I could not keep up with the cascade of information on the printed page.  However, since I've been forced into short-term disability until further notice, I can say that a paper periodical is infinitely preferable than trying to read a lap top while on bed rest.  I don't worry if it will hit the floor or if a dog will accidentally roll over it and break it.  A magazine can be set aside without worry.  Perhaps that should be a marketing ploy by publishers.  

Since I have an ice-creamaholic husband, who has never turned down an ice cream dessert, I was totally captivated with ice cream recipes that did not require eggs.  I am simply incapable of standing at a stove and stirring a custard base as my mother did years ago for her hand cranked/churned ice cream.  Suffice to say, to our PA and WV relatives, you have my deep apologies from the FL contingent.  Weaving through the forbidden corn field to the desired peach trees in the dark of night is an adventure I'll never forget. Momma was totally smitten with those purloined peaches.  I can't say my ice cream didn't have a bit of bitterness because my soul was ahurting for our midnight thievery.  Guilty on all counts, constable.

We had a surplus of blueberries from our local Aldi's and I have a new Cuisinart Ice Cream maker.  Farm meet function.  Ice cream sans eggs it is.
My friend had shared a Paula Deen magazine that had a blueberry ice cream recipe that looked delectable.  I amended the recipe slightly because I didn't want hard frozen single berries in my ice cream.  I heated them with the sugar, water and a bit of lemon juice to soften, mashed them with a potato masher and chilled them overnight.  The next day once the ice cream maker was cranking, I strained the blueberries (reserved the syrup) and added the blueberry mash.  The ice cream is a lovely violet color and the flavor is truly integrated.  No hard chunks.  Served the ice cream over lemon bars.  If I had mint, I would have gilded the lily, but it fine without any garnish other than a tiny drizzle of leftover berry syrup.

1 pint of fresh blueberries
1/2 cup of sugar
1/4 cup of water
juice of one lemon
zest of half lemon
1 cup of heavy whipping cream (chilled)
1 can of sweetened condensed milk (chilled)
1/4 tsp of salt
1 tsp of vanilla
2 cups of half and half (chilled)
Favorite lemon bar recipe (I cheated and used Krusteaz)
reserved blueberry syrup
Cuisinart Ice Cream maker, with the frozen insert and paddle

Wash and stem berries. Add to sauce pan with sugar/water, lemon juice and zest.  Heat gently til berries start to pop.
Mash with potato masher.  Chill overnight.
Prep Ice cream cylinder by washing and freezing at least 24 hours.
Strain berries and reserve liquid, separate from berries in refrigerator.
In a large chilled glass bowl, whip the heavy cream until stiff peaks are formed.
Add chilled sweet condensed milk, beat again on high until peaks are formed.
Add half & half, vanilla and blend gently to combine.
Assemble ice cream maker.
The ice cream maker MUST be spinning before you add the ice cream mix.
Add milk mix to churning ice cream maker, allow the churn to process at least ten minutes, add the reserved crushed blueberries and continue to process for another 20 minutes.
Be careful there might be a more mix than can fit in the canister.  I reserved the extra creamy mix and will use it as a mix-in mascarpone cheese with instant coffee and Tia Maria for a tiramisu ice cream.....later, much later.  Since there are no eggs in the ice cream mix, I feel it is safe to keep the cream mixture.
Pack the ice cream in an air tight container and put in deep freeze  to cure and harden for three hours.
Will keep a month in deep freeze, if you are lucky.
Dessert time, cut a square of lemon bar, top with scoop of blueberry ice cream and drizzle with blueberry syrup.

A Personal Love letter to Parenthood; Parenthood and PAIN

No parent is prepared to lose their child. You are blessed with the supreme gift of parenting, to guide, to love and to raise a child.  It is unfathomable to love a being so much and have their life taken before it begins to blossom.  Your heart grows fully at their birth to encompass the future of another precious life  It is filled with the miracle of the unique being in your arms, full of promise and dreams.  A part of your soul shrivels and dies...it shrinks to a hard bitter foul pit impossible to swallow when your child is taken from your arms.  There is only faith in the word of your Higher Being that can save you from the bowels of overwhelming despair, it is impossible to defeat the fog of sadness without the hope and promise of a reunion of spirit and heart in another plane. 

Just today, I questioned my own reasons for parenthood...why would I project my own unmet dreams on my child? For Olivia to do and be better than I ever accomplished, how unrealistic and unfair are my projected expectations for her life, it can result in an unhealthy unhappy relationship. Why should my success be based on how I raised my girl; to be the very thing that I could not be?  One should never expect their child to be what the parent failed to be.  Parenting is a responsibility that is daunting and is often fraught with a history of familial pain that can color the joy of THIS precious child in your life. I wasted years without a purpose in my own life.  Really, a wasted life until our Tyler was born. Our Tyler was a lesson from God that was life-changing. A gift to share and not be forgotten.  

Dearest Olivia, no matter how much I say I don't want you to "be me" I can't prevent you from making the same mistakes that i made.  At some point, I have to let my expectations go and know that your life is what you choose and not what I expected it to be.  You can't make someone be successful or accomplished as a substitute for your own inadequacies, your child must have that drive on their own. Parenting, empathy, compassion, classes, summper camps can be shown as an example of a full life, but that does not mean that your child will echo your values or exceed your failures.  My own life disappointments should not be a pattern for another life based on the expectations of others. My mother felt this pain all her youth and she could not keep the insecurities in her life keep me from repeating them. Momma and I went to couples therapy at one point in our life because our relationship was so fractured and dysfunctional .  I'll never forget the counselor asking me "Did I want to repeat the anguish and pain of generations of women before me?  Did I have the guts to break free from this cycle of poor self esteem and being a doormat to life's curveballs?"  And I fear that my insecurities from my young adulthood have created the same lack of self-esteem in you, my precious Olivia. Parenthood is not easy. 

Our children are not a vessel to fulfill our own unmet expectations. They are God's gift to be their own unique beings with His plan for their life. The Greatest Love of All.....

My childhood friend has lost her daughter...my adult friend lost her adult son....we lost our son. Parents are not meant to see their children die before them. It is Hell on earth. There are no words to ease the pain. I was questioning the value of parenting today and then I get a big FACE slap reminder that there is no greater love than a parent to a child. And sometimes that is all there is, the love of child, pure and simple.  It makes you human and connects you to life in its fullest.  We are linked by our love of family. The love of your child is an unconditional love that encompasses all hurts and disappointments.  You love with all your being, you forgive the unforgivable, you hope to instill your values, your dreams and hopes.  Then,.at times, you realize most harshly that life with children is not what you planned but a lesson in how you deal with the challenges.  This hyper-impatient perfectionist waited 9 1/2 years to hear an "I love you" from a boy with a heart of pure gold.  I had to learn to cherish this child that was not whole.  How unfair of me to apply a greater standard of perfection to his sister and expect her to be all that I was not, or to compensate for what was lost when Tyler passed away.   

Our Children are our future let them lead the way.  

I was most unhappy with myself for not funding the Camp Redbird Reunion Picnic this year, held in honor of Tyler.  Fred's heart attack was the priority and it consumed my days and funds.  It doesn't mean that we have forgotten to memorialize the life we lost.  Ty's connection to Camp Redbird was his summer salvation.  Once he gained a comrade in his nurse, Gordon, he loved the autonomy of a day without therapy and school.  Supporting his causes has always been a comfort in spite of our loss.

I urge those parents to find and support the causes that meant something to their lost child.  Lemonade for Cancer, Therapeutic Recreation for the Handicapped, Zap for Cerebral Palsy

Far from the Madding Crowd, Mad Beach Fish House is Beachy Keen

After a relaxing bit of pampering (manicure/pedicure for moi and pedicure for the ever so ticklish Mister) our tummies were protesting the abnormal length of time spent soaking our toes in bubbly hot lemon scented mineral water.  Our coupled thoughts were bubbling to the surface about our long delayed lunch.  The gossip and chit-chat with Angie had centered around those crazy pedicures where the small fish attack the soaking feet and nibble away the flesh of your toughened callused feet.  Hmm, hot steamy water and nibbling fish, excuse me, I mean nibbling ON fish...sounds like a steamed seafood bucket to me.

Didn't the esteemed Jon of the SOG City Oracle mention a nice seafood establishment in Madeira Beach? Hmm, this may take a bit of conniving to get the Mister to go along for this ride. After choosing a bright boiled lobster red nail polish (foreshadowing my desire perhaps a bit too literally) for my buffed and sanded tootsies...it seemed only natural to head to Mad Beach Fish House for a well deserved lunch. After all, one of my favorite bloggers had already done the reconnaissance for us. The Mister had tolerated his pedicure with a minimum of squirming and kicking.  I did not have to tip extra for the hazard of cleaning his toes.  Thankfully, this time no one took a karate kick to the chin for a foot massage.  Plus, Mad Beach Fish House fit the Notyourmomma rules of good eats...a) it is not a chain, b) it is someplace new to us, c) we were halfway there, eliminating the bellyaching from the Mister about being too far away, d) gorgeous day, convertible, Madeira beach, easy as ABC 123.

It was bordering on the super-late lunch time or hyper-early early bird, that in-between time that can leave a hungry diner looking anxiously for their absent server on a break or busy with sidework for the next shift. This was not the case at Mad Beach, our server was very attentive and her cheerful attitude only added to the pleasure of our lunch.  Gratefully for this Notyourmomma there is an elevator to reach the top level of the restaurant.  Hey, no cracks about the elevator not going all the way to the top, I know who you are.  This old lady is happy for easy access and no stairs to climb.   We had our choice of tables and picked a lovely bench seat overlooking the Intracoastal Waterway.

 The benches were reminiscent of Adirondack seating and painted a lovely distressed pale teal blue.  The walls were decorated with typical beach murals, sand tastefully done.  The owners had just purchased the restaurant last October. They have been rehabbing and adding a large Tiki style bar to the bar and patio. There are plans to have a seafood market in the near future.  All of this bodes well to enjoy a well made seafood feast.

After ordering the requisite light beer for the Mister and the tall Vodka and tonic for me, we quickly chose our appetizers while perusing the rest of the menu for our main courses.  The Mister's six advertised Key West Oysters were actually nine per serving due to the smaller size of the oysters. The oysters were topped crab & parmesan, then broiled.  He scarfed them down quickly.  I was offered nary a bite.

 Well, then!  I couldn't resist the lure of fried lobster.  I received light battered nuggets of sweet lobster.  Not greasy, hot, tender and just yummy.  It may be sacrilegious to fry a lobster, but it was way better than the ubiquitous gator or conch nugget.

The Mister was an easy sell on the lobster grilled cheese with tomato and grilled onions on sourdough.  He chose some excellent hand cut fries as his side and a disappointingly small cup of sad slaw.  (Note to chef...fix the slaw, give it a beauty makeover with red cabbage, carrot shreds and a bright tart dressing, lemon/mustard/honey/mayo combo or a chipotle mayo and slivered green onions?)  His sandwich was phenomenal looking and just as drool worthy as the picture.  He was in sandwich nirvana.

Okay, I contemplate the aforementioned bucket for one as my meal, but my appetite was whetted by the fried lobster to try a nibbler lunch approach.  I chose a cup of the conch chowder, a side of red beans and rice, plus a half pound of the peel and eat shrimp in Old Bay shake.  With a bit of a misstep with the conch chowder, I was a very happy beach bum.

The conch chowder lacked some serious heat, both in temperature and in seasoning.  The little pieces of conch were chewy and it tasted as if it had possibly scorched on the steam table, but it was not steaming hot.  Not worth a re-fire, I'll just chalk it up to the lateness of the lunch and it has suffered at the end of shift.  There was a heavy tomato presence and only a slight hint of heat. (Note to chef...lose the super sweet tomato base, add some heat, develop a deep roux and you'll make that limp cup better by far).

Boy, oh boy did the red beans and rice make up for every spoonful of disappointment in the chowder.  Those beans were creamy, flavored heavily with a Cajun kick, full of peppers, onions, sausage chunks in a slightly thickened broth.  Tender rice underneath, I could have eaten two cups.  Seriously, they were that good.  Unctuous, tender to the tooth, rich, it needed not a drop of hot sauce, although I would offer a bottle alongside for those who care to incinerate their taste buds.  Or a bit of pepper vinegar would be a nice tableside addition.

The size of the peel-n-eat shrimp were unbelievable.  Talk about a perfect depiction of an oxymoron.  Jumbo Shrimp does not do justice to the size of these behemoth crustaceans.  They were perfectly cooked.  I gladly ruined my freshly done manicure, peeling and dunking these beauties.  I definitely needed a nail brush to clean the Old Bay debris from under my nails.  Oh, yes, baby, we will meet again.  I would dearly love to see those paper thin squares that barely qualified as a napkin to be replaced with a much better quality serviette.  A wet nap after a finger staining, shrimp deveining, munch fest would be a lovely offering.

It was beyond cruel to offer us dessert after such a feast.  We toddled our buffed and puffed selves to the mid-life crisis vehicle and took a slow ride home.  I certainly look forward to visiting MB again to tackle one of those seafood buckets. I'm tempted to see their rendition of shrimp and yellow grits, after savoring those Cajun beans.

So good they get a second shot of fame!

The promise of a lobster roll sings a siren's song. Yes, this is a worthy rinse and repeat restaurant.   With a couple of tweaks to the slaw and conch chowder, napkin issue and an offer of hot sauce or peppered vinegar, what is good now could be better.
Note:  Breakfast is offered on the weekends.  As well as a Bloody Mary Bar!  I love a pickled salad in my drink.  Our ample meal, two beers, two drinks with tax and well-deserved tip came to $83.00.

In a former life time I was known as "Tina, the Tourguide."  Maybe I gained my nickname because of my penchant for telling 'people where to go' or maybe not.   My former employ as a resort front desk manager allowed me to indulge in tasting, trying and then recommending restaurants for our diverse base of guests. It was the favorite part of my job....investigating what was new, what was popular and what would be a good fit for the diner.  I was not compensated then or now for my dining choices, it is purely my personal opinion on finding the best tasting restaurants, value or splurge, family or intimate, to recommend to either guests or friends.  That being said, I do have a personal bias to the old St. Pete establishments as a life long resident of the city I love.  I am drawn to visit and review the places that have been re-vitalized into something new from my recollections.

The Accidental Moon

Yesterday was one long day.  I have been short on sleep and working lots of overtime.  I've been accused of being a "stress junkie" and though I'm working very hard on correcting my bad habit of obsessing over life and foregoing sleep, I'm not always entirely successful.  The Mister's myocardial infarction last month has not eased my stress, nor the Offspring's penchant for beaching it. Believe me, I know the allure of the beach bum lifestyle, I lived it .  Back in the early 80's my life on the beach was one long party.  Remind me to tell you about the dining party at Le Pompano who had obviously had been fishing for "square grouper" and getting the most awesome tip ever in my serving life.  I don't want my Offspring to follow literally in my foot steps.

I digress, I was addressing the accidental moon.  After a second eleven hour shift on 4 hours of sleep, I was weary and my eyes were blurry.  My drive last night was a bit magical, the moon was low in the sky, bright and shiny.  It hung low in the eastern sky, half seen and a gorgeous glowing orb, half shadowed but so luminescent, it was mesmerizing.  I was so enchanted with the glow, my 1:00 a.m. drive home was nearly accidental because I kept glancing to my left to get a glimpse.  For someone who preaches no cell phones in the front seat, it was ironic that the beauty of nature was my siren call to be so inattentive.  I nearly drove off the road on the Interstate, near the 22nd Avenue South exit. Fortunately, I corrected the path of mid-life crisis convertible back into the left lane.   The Mister did try to snap a picture of the moon after I got home. The cell phone, however failed to capture the magnificence of this evenings moon.   Bless the Mister, he tries to get up to greet me late into the night, just to say hello and kiss me goodnight.  Most times he scares the bejeezus out of me, who wants to see a shadowy figure lurking in her doorway as you walk to your front door? Our marriage has survived this many years because of our penchant for working odd shifts.  Too much togetherness and our married bliss resembles thunder and lightning.

The accidental moon....well in my life there have been moments when my innate clumsiness and inattentiveness has resulted in another type of moon.  Yeah, you know what I mean.  While napping today, thinking of my boy, missing his laughter, I recalled a few full moon moments that provided him a belly laugh.

Long ago when I was working at Tierra Verde Island Resort (nee Guy Lombardo's Port of Call) as a front desk clerk, I had an unfortunate wrench of my right knee and had to wear a soft cast, thigh to ankle, until the wrenched tendons could heal. These were the days when the Mister worked nights guarding Manuel Noriega's evidence at the courthouse and I cared for Tyler.   He watched Tyler while I worked the day shift at the Resort.  We were two ships that passed in the night back then.  My car was an ancient faded burgundy Chrysler Newport, Old Red.  After my shift, leg aching and throbbing I was more than ready to head home.  I turned Old Red off the Bayway and onto the Interstate heading north to our old bungalow in St. Paul/Euclid.   Somewhere just south of the 26th Avenue south exit, my tire blew.  BAM.  Slide Old Red over to the right.  Now, what? Mind you, these were the day long before cell phones were available for people as poor as we were.  I'm leaning on the car, leg in a cast and looking desperate.  A very kind woman pulled over, looked at my leg and said:  "I'll drive you to a phone, but I don't know if you can get in the car?"  Imagine the scene, I'm in the passenger side of her little Toyota with my right leg in its cast tucked under and hanging out her open car door.  She made the exit and dropped me off at the old Pizza Hut on 34th Street South.  The manager was so rude and he wouldn't let me use the phone, so I hobbled over to the decrepit ramshackle bait shop next door and bless that shop owner.  He got me some ice water and let me use his phone.  I called the Mister, "Hey, honey, the tire blew out...this is where I am."  He loads Tyler and his convertible wheelchair into our beat up van and heads south to find me.  He gets to me and he can't get the tire changed.  Lug nuts were rusted.  He drives back to a phone, calls AAA.  Tyler, in the meantime, is in his chair with me and I'm walking him back and forth in the broiling hot sun. (August 5 pm in Florida is no picnic).  I have my cold water from the bait man and I'm busy sprinkling him with the water and pacing if you can call my walking style with a cast, a pace.  Soon I see the AAA truck and our van heading our way.  Hoorah!  Rescue at last.  I turn Tyler just a little bit to head back to Old Red and I lose my footing in the gravel.  Now we are on a fairly steep embankment on the side of the Interstate and should I mention that my uniform at the Resort was a wrap-around skirt?  Guess who rolled down the hill showing her backside to her son, the AAA driver and her husband?  That would be me. All the way down the hill, until the fencing at the bottom stopped my stop, drop, and roll.  I opened my eyes to come face to face to the trash that people seemed destined to toss out their windows, a cigar butt or two and mulch.

My so-called wrap-around skirt was around my chest.  Tyler was laughing, AAA man was laughing and Mister was laughing.  I was not.  I was the color of Old Red.  A red full moon rising in the East.  I was rescued from the bottom of the hill and we eventually made it home.

Soon after my roll down the hill, Tierra Verde Island Resort ceased to exist.  We were blessed with a new child (the wee-one) and I became the full-time caregiver of our kids for the next fifteen years.  The Mister started his employ with a mental health facility as an electrician and jack-of-all-trades.  We were nearly normal. Yeah, right.  Sometimes, we are oil and vinegar and not fully mixed.  It is a hard adjustment and our life was a stress grenade in a field of land mines.   Constant illness and surgery after surgery to give Tyler more function is taking it's toll.  We are functioning but not on all cylinders.

After our darling Tyler grew beyond the swingapart wheelchair that you could disassemble and swing into a car and buckle up, he had a full use power chair that he could drive with a head array control.  It weighed close to 200 lbs. by itself and even with the wheelchair carrier bolted to the back of Old Red, transportation became a real issue.  I drove dear Tyler to therapy five days a week, for nearly ten years.  We killed Big Red.  At one point, the Generalissimo (MIL) decided that our mode of transport was too decrepit for her beloved grandson.  The Generalissimo GAVE us a brand new Town and Country Mini-van.  It served us well with just a modicum of alterations.  We removed the small bench seat and created an anchor tie down dead center of the van with an automatic lift that folded into the rear from the side door.  It was all well and good until our boy sprouted and grew so tall in his wheel chair that we could not fit his head in the van through the side door.  Enter Phil of C&H van conversions, this man knows his stuff, he had made the tie down so Tyler wouldn't tilt during turns. This time, he figured out how to raise the roof, so Tyler would be able to keep his head.  I love that man.  He adored Tyler and has for the last 20 years sent us a Thanksgiving card.  I digress again, we are talking about accidental moons.

Early on after the van conversion, I was still in the process of learning how to work the lift.  Really, it wasn't difficult to learn, I was just in another time and space, sometimes, when I was getting Tyler to and from therapy.  I was a head case, then and freely admit it.  Stress can do that to you.

One day, we pulled up for Speech, Occupational Therapy with Clair and Jan on Park Boulevard, Pinellas Park.  I'm ready to unload the Ty-guy and I jam the lift into the floorboard halfway.  It won't go up and it won't go down.  It is flat out stuck.  I call C&H and Phil in his own wheelchair and adapted van drove to my rescue.  That man took time out of his busy day and drove to Park and taught me a lesson in wheelchair lifts.  Thank you Phil.

Oh, full moon rising, again I digress.  Have you ever seen the traffic on Park Boulevard? Hundreds of cars passing in a given minute.  A very busy boulevard of stores and restaurants, plus a main thoroughfare through Pinellas county east to west.  Clair and Jan had their offices on the north side of the boulevard in a very small parking lot.  The only parking spot available to me one day was the one closest to the boulevard.  I get the side door open, reach in to unlock the center lock of the wheelchair harness and lower the lift when I suddenly feel a whoosh of wind and my gauze skirt has flown over my head and is caught in the lift gate over my head to my left.  It is in the mechanism and jammed the movement.  I am now stuck bent over inside a van with my rear facing Park Boulevard.  Our son is laughing so hard that his wheelchair is shaking.  I can not back up, I can't reach up, short of undressing, I was stuck.   Thank goodness that I always heeded my mom's advice to wear your best undies.  The cacophony of car horns is deafening.  Even Phil couldn't save me now.  It took a pair of Jan's scissors to free me. I have now given up any hope of modesty and sheepishly wheel Tyler into therapy.  This too shall pass.

You know the old saw, laughter is the best medicine.  If anything, I've learned to laugh at the moments in my past that shamed me previously.  I've learned to embrace my clumsiness as a symptom of a mind otherwise occupied.  I've learned that sometimes laughter is all you have got.  Miss you my Ty-man, thank you for always appreciating the absurd and pointing out the humor in the bad spots.  Thank you for always reminding me that things could be worse and that resilience and perseverance is a good thing.