Kathleen Rowland's Blog, page 13

My pre-holiday cleaning list

Friends, I started yesterday by cleaning the refrigerator and pantry. 

Besides food shopping, here is what I will do today:

Entryway

Organize and straighten up shoes
Hang coats in the closet or on hooks
Mop hard-surface floors with mild detergent

Kitchen

Scour the sink
Wipe the exteriors of appliances. Tip: To make stainless-steel appliances sparkle without being sticky, wipe them with club soda.
Sweep and mop floor with mild detergent
Spray and wipe down surfaces with disinfectant cleaner, especially the stove and countertops

Bathroom

Spray the toilet exterior with a general-purpose cleaner; sanitize the bowl with antibacterial toilet bowl cleaner
Scrub the sink and wipe faucets
Wipe mirrors
Mop hard-surface floors with mild detergent
Put out clean hand towels

Living/Family Room

Vacuum
Plump pillows
Dust furniture and shelves
Shake out or vacuum rugs

Bedroom

Make beds; change linens if necessary
Plump pillows
Vacuum carpet
Dust furniture and shelves
Fold or hang up clothes and jewelry

Beef Wellington– yes, you can make it!

It does sound a bit daunting, but even a complicated recipe can be broken down in steps.  Doesn’t it look wonderful with small red potatoes and peas?  I’m making this for Christmas!

Ingredients

1 2 1/2 to 3-pound beef tenderloin, trimmed of excess fat
2 teaspoons coarse salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 small onion, finely chopped
1 pound white mushrooms, stems removed, finely chopped
1/4 cup dry sherry
All-purpose flour, for dusting
1 pound frozen puff pastry, thawed, plus more for garnish if desired
1/4 pound (4 ounces) duck liver, chicken liver, or peppercorn mousse, room temperature
1 large egg, lightly beaten
Sea salt, or coarse salt, for sprinkling (optional)

Directions

Tie tenderloin with kitchen twine in 1-inch increments to form an even piece, so it will hold its shape during cooking. (Your butcher can do this for you.)
Heat a large cast-iron or heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Season beef with 1 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Sear tenderloin until well browned on all surfaces, about 1 1/2 minutes on each side, including ends.
Transfer tenderloin to a cutting board with a drainage well; let rest until cool. Cut and remove the kitchen twine, and chill tenderloin until ready to assemble and beef is cold, at least 1 hour or overnight.
In another large skillet, heat butter over medium heat. Add onion; cook until it softens, about 4 minutes. Add mushrooms; season with remaining teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until they are tender and liquid is released and evaporates, 8 to 10 minutes. Add sherry; cook until mixture is dry, about 4 minutes more. Cool at room temperature or in the refrigerator for up to a day.
On a lightly floured surface, roll the puff pastry into a rectangle 1/4 inch thick and big enough to enclose the beef. If using store-bought pastry, it may be necessary to lay out 2 pieces, overlapping, and roll them out into one piece. Spread the top of the tenderloin evenly with half the mousse, and spread half of the mushrooms evenly over the top.
Carefully invert coated tenderloin into middle of puff pastry, mushroom-side down. Spread another layer of mousse on top and sides of tenderloin. Spread remaining mushrooms over top. Fold up long sides of dough to enclose tenderloin, brushing edges with beaten egg to seal. Trim ends if necessary, then fold up, and seal. Carefully transfer tenderloin, seam side down, to a baking sheet, and chill at least 2 hours or overnight. Roll out any extra dough, cut into holly or other shapes if desired, and chill on baking sheet with beef.
Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Place a baking sheet on the middle rack in the oven until hot, about 15 minutes. Decorate top of pastry with shaped cutouts if desired; brush with beaten egg. Make 2 to 3 slits in pastry for venting steam. Sprinkle with sea or coarse salt if desired. Carefully transfer beef Wellington to preheated baking sheet. Bake until pastry is golden brown and beef registers 120 degrees to 130 degrees on an instant-read thermometer for rare, 130 degrees to 135 degrees for medium rare, 35 to 50 minutes. Cover pastry with foil if it gets too brown while cooking. Let rest on a cutting board 10 minutes before slicing.

 

Boost creativity with a blink!

Trying to come up with a bright idea or solve a problem?  Blink a few times!  The simple act of closing your eyes momentarily ups the odds you’ll have a brilliant breakthrough, according to PsychonomicBulletin & Review study.  Even a brief pause allows you to tune out the world, which allows your brain to work its wonders and come up with great solutions!

Deadly Alliance is available for pre-order at 99 cents

Some alliances have dangerous consequences.  Deadly Alliance at Amazon US and Deadly Alliance at Amazon UK.  Friends, I researched ISIS for a long time before creating underpinnings for Amy and Finn’s story.  I hope you enjoy this book.

Finbar Donahue, former Army Ranger, walked on the wild side in Iraq, but now he lives in the shadows. After his evasive partner, Les, was shot in a random drive-by, Finn discovers cash is siphoned monthly. He fights to keep his investment company afloat. When the late partner’s girlfriend, Amy Kintyre, applies for his bookkeeping job, Finn suspects she knows about his company drain and hires her.

Amy needs a nine-to-five with free evenings and weekends to get her fashion design business back on track. She unearths Les’ s secret bank account and alerts Finn. Freezing of the money laundering account sets off havoc within an Irish gang. Amy witnesses a gang fight between a brutal ISIS fundraising organization and the Irish. Desperate to escape a stalker’s crosshairs, she seeks refuge with Finn. As danger heats up, sparks fly hotter.

Les is alive. After cheating the Irish mob, he became their target. Mistaken identity took the life of his disabled twin brother. Now Les makes another deal—trading Amy and stolen drugs for their forgiveness. Stakes are high as Finn tracks assassins across the San Bernardino Mountains. If he gets her back, can he trust her?

Excerpt


The front door opened. “Sorry, we’re closed.” Holding a broom, Burlie swept behind the bar.

Finn stepped closer. Drunken merrymakers, they were not. His heart hammered like it was stuck in overdrive.

“We offer protection.” Speaking with a Spanish accent, the shortest of the trio dressed like the others, donned the ISIS-style full face black mask.

“I have protection.” Burlie’s big mouth nailed his coffin.

A second thug grabbed the bartender’s hand and pulled out clippers. “You’ll change your mind, one finger at a time.”

“I just paid the Irish.” Panic burrowed into Burlie’s high-pitched cry. He thrashed his arms as he tried to pull his hand back.

“Us you pay”. His utterance with the object in the first position identified him as an Arab speaker. Light glinted off shiny metal. The thug pulled a combat knife, grabbed Burlie’s arms, spun him, put the blade to his neck. Finn dialed 911 and then shouted, “Finn Donahue here. Gang trouble. Burlie’s Jazz Club,” To grab their attention even more, he heaved in a breath and released a long whistle. His distraction worked.

Burlie broke from the hold, and Finn thanked God for the curious.

“Where are you?” Heavy boots pounded toward him.

Finn’s phone vibrated, but he killed the call and darted into the first door he saw, the one with the frosted pink window. He spotted Amy at the sink and pointed his index finger up.

He took off his coat and wrapped it around his fist. After rapping on the glass, he wound up and threw a hard punch through the window. Glass splintered as he connected with the thug’s nose. Prepared to jump aside, he opened the door.

Amy followed and jumped over the guy spread on the floor, holding a hand over his bleeding nose.

He struggled to stand. Finn patted him down, took his gun, and pointed it at him. After the guy stood, Finn walked him to a chair. “Don’t move.”

“I’ll phone the police.” A high-pitched squeal came from the back of her throat. “Never mind. Police are here.”

From the street, the blue light of a cop car radiated across the club’s interior like a strobe. Uniforms burst through the door.

The first officer made radio contact with homicide, and the second, much younger, rushed to the nearest thug and pulled out flex-cuffs.

“Stand over there, Amy.” Finn motioned toward a corner.

She rolled her eyes and dashed toward Burlie who wrestled with the Arab and tried to keep him from moving toward the young rookie. Amy pulled an item from her purse. A Swiss army knife? Out came a miniature cork screw.

The rookie cop turned the Arab around to be handcuffed and leaned him against a wall. The thug used the hard surface as leverage to throw himself against him.

Finn saw it coming. A switchblade.

 

Is your favorite fruit an apple?

If it is, maybe you’re a kid or kid-at-heart.  According to a new Pediatrics journal report, the easy, on-the-go snack accounts for 20% of the fruit eaten by kids ages two to 19!  That’s a good thing, researchers say.  People who consume an apple a day or every other day enjoy more disease-fighting antioxidants and often weigh less, too. This is thanks to apples’ filling fiber content.

This is what not to wear to a corporate holiday party

It’s good to know what styles work for your image and what makes you look like a bimbo.  In the first example, the skirt is too short.  In the second, cleavage is a no-no.  These dresses are fine for New Years Eve.  What do you wear to corporate office parties?

Setting your table for spur of the moment guests

During the holiday season, friends and relatives breeze through town.  If they phone, I invite them over.  Lunch is easy since I always have leftovers, cheese, field greens, tomatoes, and fruit for a salad.  Beverage is iced tea. Usually there is a baguette or bread sticks.  I pick flowers from my yard, arrange them in a vase, and set the table. An informal lunch is when my guest(s) and I wear jeans and a cute top. I think of my table as gift wrapping for my gift which is the food. I give a plain white tablecloth a visual knock0ut with a table runner.  Yesterday I invited a Jewish friend to lunch and didn’t want to use a green and red runner.  I put down a row of snowflake place mats, and with a vase of flowers and items on the table, it looked like a runner.

Spotlight on A Portrait of my Love by Jennifer Young

Jennifer Young is an Edinburgh-based writer, editor and copywriter. She is interested in a wide range of subjects and writing media, perhaps reflecting the fact that she has both arts and science degrees. Jennifer has been writing fiction, including romantic fiction, for a number of years with several short stories already published. Thanks You For The Music, which is set on the Balearic island of Majorca, is her first published novel.

Jennifer Young’s A Portrait of my Love follows new adult Skye.  Here is an excerpt:

I had a problem.

Me. Skye Ashton. Just-turned-21, a student approaching my last year at university, with the richness of life spread in front of me like a confusing patchwork counterpane, its acres of patterns and textures waiting for me to make my mark on them, to forge my own path through their knotted maze of colour, their swirls of emotion. Balanced on the edge of everything and a little bit scared to step off. Dreaming all the dreams that girls of my age do, of a career. Running my own business. Turning the tedious studies of the business management classroom into a real-life adventure. Running my own marketing consultancy. Being a serious player.

In love.

No, not in love. Afraid I was in love.

That was the problem.

I sat in the window of the Edinburgh flat I shared with my older sister, River, balancing my phone on the palm of my hand and weighing up my options as I watched the comings and goings two floors below — the elderly couple with their groceries, the summer visitors pointing their cameras to catch the sharpness of the city skyline against the clear blue sky, the children bowling along to the play park.

Should I call Zack or Leona? It was Leona’s birthday and although I’d already texted, she could be needy and liked attention so perhaps we should speak. She’d give my mood an instant injection of some feel-good chemical that few people were able to produce — a zest for living, for doing, one of the things that attracted me to her.

That was the case for phoning Leona.

Phoning Zack, by contrast, was a bad idea. Whenever I spoke to him my heart pounded in my chest and my blood pulsed much more quickly round my body. And if that was a feel-good drug in itself, its side effects sent me accelerating towards a crazy lack of control; and I hated being out of control.

Zack or Leona? Holding the phone out into a pool of sunlight, I counted to three. I wasn’t normally so indecisive. If River had been there she’d have stood no nonsense. Call Zack, her voice instructed me in my head. You’re in love with him. But River was out who-knew-where in theory at work, but she hadn’t made it back to the flat from the night before and I had no idea where she might be. And no matter how sensible, someone else’s wise words are no good when you say them to yourself.

Zack or Leona? Leona or Zack?

I took the easy option, flashing a finger across the screen until Leona’s number appeared in front of me like magic. ‘Call Leona’ urged the screen. But still I hesitated.

Zack’s was the voice I yearned to hear, even though he was at work and the chances were that all I’d get would be the businesslike message on his voicemail. That would be enough, for now; that fix of feel-good folly.

In the end my indecision paid off and I was ridiculously relieved when the phone rang and spared me the wrong choice. ‘Mum. Hi.’

‘Darling.’ My mum’s voice, warm and full of life just like Leona’s, burst out into my ear. ‘So glad I managed to catch you. All well?’

‘Of course.’ My mum — a happy hippy who wanted nothing more than to teach the world to sing — never failed to make me smile. Sometimes, in a reversal of the traditional mother-daughter relationship, I lay awake at night worrying about her as I wondered what on earth she’d get up to next.

‘And River? I couldn’t get her on her phone. I left her a message.’

Used to River’s casual comings and goings (and far too accustomed to clearing up the regular relationship car crashes which too often accompanied them), I shook my head. ‘She’s going out with friends after work, I think. And she was out with Nat last night so I didn’t see her.’

‘Oh, is that the new man? Have you met him? Do you like him?’

‘I haven’t met him yet, but I expect I will soon.’

‘Aren’t you lonely in that flat by yourself with River at work? All summer?’

River was older than me, her ship of life becalmed early in an accountant’s office which she hated. Like Mum, she flitted like a hippy butterfly from handsome flower to handsome flower. ‘It’s still early in the summer. I’ll find a job and that’ll keep me busy.’

‘I’m sure you’ll find something. You’re so employable.’ It didn’t sound like a compliment when she said it. ‘What a shame about River. I hoped I’d get the two of you together. I have such good news for you. But I can’t keep it to myself any longer.’

Instinct and experience, pulling strongly in tandem, warned me of the nature of this good news before it broke. I traced my finger across the grime of the window. We lived in dusty flat. I’d better hurry up and get a job, because if I didn’t I might have to clean the windows. ‘Neil?’

At the other end of the phone my mum’s laugh rippled through the air like a stream over cobbles. ‘How did you guess? He proposed to me this morning. We’ve set a date for October. No point in messing around.’

‘I’m so pleased.’ I managed a laugh, a semi-genuine one because I didn’t grudge my mother happiness, even though we both knew from bitter experience that it wouldn’t last. Neil was a pleasant enough man — one who seemed to make her happy — but he was just a successor in what felt like a line of stepfathers, real or near-misses. For me Neil would be stepfather number two but he’d be River’s third, though she’d surely take that in her stride. She had no option, really, especially as she seemed hell-bent on repeating our mother’s roller-coaster progress through almost seasonal cycles of love and heartbreak.

‘I knew you would be. We’ll all have dinner together on Sunday. Tell River. Oh, and by “all” I really do mean everyone. Neil’s family as well; or two of them, at least.’

Neil — I scratched my head in an attempt to recollect — had two girls and a boy; River and I had met them just once in passing. Fortunately they were grown up and one of the girls lived in the States. I’d long ago given up trying to keep track of the life histories of these people who flitted so briefly through my life; for a short period my step-siblings, but all too soon gone, like a rainbow when the sun goes in.

‘Brilliant, Mum. So glad you’re happy.’ For now, at least. But she’d be all right in the end; she was blessed with the capability to shed the memories of lost loves along with her tears and move on to the next one, never stopping to think of the inevitability of that relationship, too, drawing to its doom. One thing was for certain, I wouldn’t get married until I was absolutely sure it would last forever.

‘Oh darling, yes. So happy. Tell River she has to bring the new man. What’s his name again?’

‘It’s Nat. Or was that the last one? I haven’t actually met him,’ I reminded her.

Such small details never deterred my mum. ‘Then tell her to bring him so we can meet him. It wouldn’t do if he didn’t know anyone at the wedding.’

If it lasts that long. My smile, a mix of mellow amusement and mild sadness, lasted while I calculated that it was five months to October and by then River would quite likely have moved on to someone else. ‘I’ll tell her.’

‘She isn’t very patient with men, though, is she?’

Like Mum, River expected love to bless her instantly and to last forever. The moment it began to fade, the moment a boyfriend’s desire to stay in and watch his football team on the telly exceeded her passion for a walk in the park, it was over. ‘I don’t think she is.’

‘I’ll have to have a word with her.’

I choked back a laugh. Longevity was relative, after all. Mum always found it quite astonishing that any of her friends were still tied into a first relationship. So dull, I remembered her saying as she patted the hand of stepfather number two (Brian; neither I nor River had taken to him at all). What do they find to talk about? ‘That’s probably a good idea.’

‘And that applies to you.’

‘What about me?’

‘What about your young man? River seems to think you’re getting serious. Surely you’re serious enough to bring him home?’

Zack. Damn him. He would have winked at me if he could have heard the conversation, the way he always winked at me when River was being outrageous. Even the thought of that lazy lowering of an eyelid and the half-smile that accompanied it, turned my heart over, shook it like a terrier with a rabbit and then let it go to calm down again, beat by beat. I licked my lips, almost in fear. Did my mother live like this, wrung out by this tide of emotion every time she fell in love?

Falling in love. Was it really worth the effort?

If it’s fear you feel, it can’t be love.

 

• • •

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Baked Acorn Squash with Almonds and Quinoa

On Thanksgiving day we enjoyed this amazing squash recipe made by our daughter-in-law.  I am going to practice it today and serve it to a special guest coming to our house for lunch on Monday.  I wanted to make a vegetarian meal for my guest and chose Squash with Almonds and Quinoa.  I’ll also serve a salad with it.

 

 

Ingredients

2-4 small acorn squashes, halved and seeds removed – If you’re serving 2 people get 1 squash, 4 people then get 2 squashes, 8 people then get 4 squashes. The quinoa makes enough to fill 8 small squash halves. You could even use 1 large butternut squash here and fill that up with the quinoa. I used one squash and had the leftover quinoa for lunch sans the squash.
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, divided, plus more for brushing on the squash
Dash of salt and pepper
1 cup quick cooking quinoa
1¾ cups filtered water
½ cup fresh parsley, chopped
½ cup feta, crumbled
½ cup raw almonds with skins, coarsely chopped
2 teaspoons red-wine vinegar

Instructions

Preheat oven to 425 degrees.
Using a sharp chef’s knife, carefully cut the acorn squash in half, from stem to tip. The squash can rock back and forth, so take care as you are cutting it.
Scoop out all the seeds and membranes, using either a spoon or a melon baller.
Brush each squash half with a bit of olive oil, and season with salt and pepper.
Roast the squash cut-side down on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper, until tender when pierced with a fork and caramelized, about 15-25 minutes. It may take longer or shorter, depending on the size of your squash. I had a larger acorn squash, so it took mine about 25 minutes.
While the squash is cooking, place quinoa along with 1¾ cups filtered water and a big pinch of coarse sea salt in a pot set over high heat. Bring quinoa to a boil, lower heat to a simmer, cover pot, and cook until all of the liquid is absorbed and the quinoa’s germs look like lots of little spirals, about 12-15 minutes.
Turn off heat, place a dry clean paper towel between the pot and lid, and let quinoa sit for at least 5 minutes before giving it a fluff with a fork.
While the quinoa and squash are cooking, chop the parsley and toast up the almonds. Note: You can also toast up the almonds ahead to time to save a step. Just store them in covered container till you’re ready to use t
Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a skillet set over medium heat. Add the chopped almonds to the skillet and stir frequently until golden brown in spots and the nuts are fragrant, about 2-3 minutes. Transfer the nuts to a paper towel lined plate to absorb some of the oil. Sprinkle the almonds with some fine sea salt. Set them aside to cool.
In a large bowl, combine together the quinoa, ½ cup chopped parsley, ½ cup feta, toasted almonds, 2 teaspoons red-wine vinegar and 2 tablespoons olive oil. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
Fill up your squash halves with the quinoa and dig in.
Got leftover quinoa? Just reheat it in a skillet with a touch of coconut oil, or just eat it cold

Sleep longer with Jello!

Ending dinner with a gelatin dessert (either sugar free or not) can prompt you to fall asleep faster and spend more time in the deeper stages of sleep without causing next day drowsiness.  Why it works? Gelatin is the top source of glycine, a relaxing amino acid that also slightly lowers your core body temperature, triggering nighttime drowsiness, reports the journal, Sleep and Biological Rhythms.

Friends, I confess I’m from the jello capital of the world– Iowa.  Here’s a classic– combine light cran-raspberry juice with hot water/raspberry jello and add fresh berries.