My last time playing was a match in March against my old team at Dante Fascell, where my partner threw down her racket and said she quit because she refused to play with cheaters. We eventually resumed the match and ended up winning, but it was a dramatic end to our season. Anyway- it was so nice to be out on the court getting exercise and fresh air, but even nicer to reconnect with old friends and teammates.

“Tennis has been my sanity,” said my friend Ellen, who arranged the game.

“My horses have been mine,” said Lulu, who is married to a vet and lives in the Redlands on a large property.

“Mine has been the Keys,” I said. Also walking and gardening, but mostly the Keys.

“I have never cooked so much in my life,” said Ellen, who of all my friends has been the most cautious. She just started getting take-out and only from Sage.

A petite brunette who is a Weight Watcher Leader (now retired) she said, “I went to Publix and finally weighed myself after months. I gained weight.” She attributed it to all the tasting she’s been doing while cooking. We all admitted we’d gained weight during the lock down, out of boredom and having to cook all the time.

“I’m having a hard time social distancing from my refrigerator.”

Lulu

“The first thing I think of when I wake up is ‘What should I make for dinner tonight?’ There’s just something wrong with that,” said Lulu.

We all agreed it’s been a struggle to come up with interesting menus for meals, especially Ellen who doesn’t eat red meat or pork. She said the other night she’d been at her daughter’s visiting the grandchildren and got home at 7 pm, with nothing prepared for dinner.

“You’re getting an omelette tonight,” she said to her husband Mark.

“Fine,” he said.

Our fourth tennis player, Martha said her husband likes to eat whatever he’s in the mood for that day, making it impossible to plan ahead.

“It’s very challenging,” she admitted.

My husband Zeke isn’t that challenging, but he is a meat and potatoes kind of guy so my soup and sandwich dinners, or breakfast for dinner, don’t go over too well with him. The other night I was attempting a complicated New York Times recipe for Smoky Eggplant Croquettes by Gabrielle Hamilton. I broiled the eggplant, peeled it and strained off the juices, added olive oil, garlic and salt and spread it out on the silpat as instructed. I then got to the next part of the directions: Freeze overnight. They always say you should read a recipe through before you start, and this is a perfect example of why that is a good idea.

At any rate, I had to cook something for dinner, so I dumped a box of Farafelle pasta into boiling salted water and served it with homemade pesto, chopped chicken from leftover Publix rotisserie, sun-dried tomatoes and some crumbled feta cheese. Roasted pine nuts would’ve been a welcome addition, but I didn’t have the energy. It was good enough for a last minute dinner and the next night, I took the frozen eggplant out, cut it into rectangular chucks, refroze it and then dredged it in flour, egg and breadcrumbs and fried it at 350 degrees. It tasted really good, although some of the croquettes were still cold in the middle.

My idea had been to serve the croquettes as part of a Mezze platter, with Trader Joe’s grape leaves, cherry tomatoes, black olives, cucumber slices, hummus and homemade pita bread. This idea did not float with Zeke. He didn’t even know what a Mezze platter was (“You’re too fancy for me”) and doesn’t like grape leaves, tomatoes, olives or hummus. There’s something about the texture of mushy foods (he has a similar aversion to avocados, mushrooms and asparagus tips) that Zeke can’t stand and he doesn’t feel appetizers are an actual dinner. Personally, I could eat appetizers for dinner every night, but not Zeke, so he made some skewers with beef and veggies, that he then grilled.

Skewers are an easy dinner to make if you have meat on hand. Don’t buy the pre-made skewers, as these are more expensive. We used top sirloin, cut in chunks with sliced Vidalia onion and yellow bell pepper and I sprinkled it all with a good dose of Greek seasoning. You could use chicken instead of beef, or even scallops or shrimp, but in that case, skewer your veggies separately, as they will need more time to cook. Zeke put his grilled beef skewer and veggies in the homemade pita with some hot sauce, for an easy sandwich.

The Homemade Pita Bread was a New York Times recipe and, while rather fun, I’m not sure I would make again. It was cool to see them puff up in the oven and they were softer than pita bread you buy in the store, almost like a na’an. As I was kneading the dough into little balls I said to Zeke:

“I get why people have gotten into baking in the Pandemic.”

Me

You sprinkle the yeast into water with sugar, wait for it to bubble up, then add the flour and cover it. It doubles in size, like a miracle, smelling yeasty and full of life. You bunch it down (theraputic) and knead it on a floured surface until it transforms into a satiny dough. Shape it into balls, bake it- creation! Like playing Dr. Frankenstein in your own kitchen, baking is both restorative and healing. It’s something totally under the creator’s control, something we’ve all been craving during this crazy time of our lives.

I am, however, perfectly ok with buying Daily Bread pitas at Publix and they certainly seemed more uniform in size than my misshapen attempts. They did work great with some scrambled eggs and tomatoes for breakfast.

Dinner of the week definitely goes to our dinner Saturday night at Martha and Luis’s house. First, we had Torchon pate from D’Artagnan, the Duck Store. It was smooth and creamy, like butter with no heavy gamey taste; served with little toasts and chilled Veuve Cliquot champagne, it was heavenly. Dinner was two ducks from D’Artagnan, that Luis had roasted and Martha made Julia Child’s Duck a l’orange sauce to adorn the bronzed beauties. Divine! They served the duck with fingerling potatoes and onions that had been roasted in duck fat and couscous with golden raisins. I made a green salad to serve with dinner, for a little lightness and to get some greens in.

Martha set a beautiful table, we were socially distanced at opposite ends of the table; their daughter Carolina joined us. It was all delicious and I’d used my ice cream maker to prepare two different frozen concoctions from The Last Course for dessert. Black Peppercorn ice cream (really!) was a revelation, served with Strawberry Sorbet and shards of golden, Pistachio Nut Brittle. I loved the combo of flavors with the clean fruitiness of the strawberry sorbet, cutting the rich and slightly spicy peppercorn ice cream. And who doesn’t like homemade brittle?

A.J. asked me if I wanted Wyatt for one last Gigi Camp. Hmmm… I thought about the peace and silence of the Sanctuary, of morning yoga and time to write, sipping my coffee in bed, of long walks listening to podcasts and the glass of frozen rose waiting for me when I returned, and of being able to eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted for dinner. But then I realized Wyatt was starting school soon and this would be my last time this summer to have him for Gigi Camp, so of course I said yes.

We went to the grocery store to stock up on Wyatt’s favorites- Spaghettios and yogurt- and to get the fixings for a Shark Week Sundae (marshmallow fluff, fruit roll ups, ice cream, blue sprinkles, sugar cones) when Wyatt spotted a shiny, green Hot Wheels car on display at the end of the aisle. I bought it for him and said he could get it on the condition that he listen to me all day. Well, he didn’t get it the first day, but he did the second day. The third day, I had a Zoom Meeting. For some reason, every time I’ve had one this year, I’ve had Wyatt.

I put him up in my bedroom, with my phone on a show he liked and went to my computer set up downstairs. I have to say this about Zoom meetings. Everyone can see you people! During this particular one, I saw someone eating lunch, someone licking envelopes, another person was wiping their nose, someone else was moving locations and another person shuffled papers around in their makeshift office. When I heard “Gigi, help!” I put the top of my laptop down and ran upstairs. Wyatt’s show had ended, or some such emergency. I resolved it and went back to Zoom.

After the meeting, I took Wyatt to lunch at Key Largo Fisheries because they have a good Peel-n-eat shrimp and he loves shrimp. My friend Elmy describes Key Largo Fisheries as like a “Shorty’s for seafood”, but unlike Shorty’s, there are no servers. You wait in line, order and have to go pick up your order when the buzzer beeps.

Someone at the Sanctuary told me the way Key Largo Fisheries started was that fishermen would bring their catch to the Pilot House restaurant, but when the Pilot House had bought its fill, the fishermen were left with the rest of their fish. Key Largo Fisheries opened in 1972 to buy, and then sell, the extra seafood as a Seafood Market. This is where most locals come to get their fresh fish, stone crabs and lobster to cook for dinner. All the food I’ve ever eaten here has been fresh and good.

Anyway, this lunch was a lesson in indigestion. We ordered, sat by the water where we fed the fish pellets dispensed for 25 cents out of a glass dispenser. Luckily, I had plenty of quarters to keep the fish fed and Wyatt entertained. We saw yellowtail, parrotfish, barracuda and even a shark, which Wyatt spotted. We got buzzed, I picked up our food and returned to the table. Wyatt took one bite of his shrimp and started crying.

“It’s too spicy!” he said.

So, I went back up the steps to get a glass of water, which I brought back to the table to wash each shrimp off and peeled them. He then dunked them in ketchup (cocktail sauce is too spicy too) and gobbled them down. By the time I got around to my lunch- a BLT with Lobster– it was cold. The BLT with lobster didn’t really work for me- the little pieces of lobster kept falling out, the croissant was too soft for the filling and the bacon wasn’t cooked enough. Anyway, we finished our lunches and I promised Wyatt I’d get him a chocolate covered Key Lime Pie on a stick for dessert.

Alas, the The Blonde Giraffe Key Lime Pie Company was closed, so I took Wyatt to Dairy Queen to get a soft serve ice cream dipped in chocolate. We went outside to eat it and, if you’ve ever gotten a chocolate dipped soft serve ice cream, you know it’s a disaster waiting to happen, especially in 90 degree heat. The vanilla ice cream starts melting, leaking all over your hands and then you take a bite of the frozen chocolate shell that will inevitably slide, like an avalanche, down your cone and onto the ground. Wyatt’s cone proved no exception and the nice lady at DQ, who put sprinkles on his cone, only gave me one napkin! I kept trying to get Wyatt to throw away the rest of the cone, as he got increasingly messier, but he refused. He ate it down to the very last bite of soggy, criss-crossed interior filled with melted ice cream and random sprinkles. I washed him off with some water I had in my car and we headed back to the condo, where his parents were coming to pick him up.

“Well Wyatt, what was your favorite part of Gigi Camp?” I asked him.

“My new green car,” he said.

“Even better than seeing the shark?” I asked.

“No, actually my favorite part of Gigi Camp was spending time with you,” he said.

“Oh Wyatt! My favorite part of Gigi Camp was spending time with you!”

Heart melts here.

We both agreed we learned things from each other in this third and final session of Gigi Camp 2020. Wyatt learned that if you pick Neopolitan Ice Cream, you get three flavors in one carton. I learned that if the conversation you’re having on an I-Phone suddenly disappears, you tap the little square in the right hand corner to get it to reappear. Yes, I am getting technology tips from my four-year-old grandson.

I finished the TV show Catastrophe– I really liked it; there are four seasons. Carrie Fisher died during filming so they worked her death into the last episode. I really wish it would have gone on another season- I fell in love with the characters- but apparently the actor/writer Rob Delaney felt he had said everything he wanted to regarding marriage and relationships. Really? I feel that subject is a never-ending conversation.

GOOD NEWS! I got asked to be part of the Yelp Elite Squad. I said yes to YES and am looking forward to contributing to Yelp with restaurant and hotel reviews. I also get invited to special Yelp events through being part of YES.

BAD NEWS! My stepdaughter Lauren, who’s been studying her ass off the the Florida Bar Exam which was to be this week, found out it’s been postponed until October. By that time, she’ll be in school at Georgetown and who knows how much she’s studied for will be retained? Apparently, they’ve been having issues with the tests crashing in other states. Disappointing for everyone who’ve been studying for the Bar for months.

Lastly, here are some Foodie Newsletters I enjoyed, recommended by Taste. A Newsletter by Alison Roman, i love you egg, Some Meals Considered, On Hunger and You Can Do This.

Stay safe, read your recipe directions all the way through before you begin and keep on doing whatever keeps you sane!

Every time I look around (look around) Every time I look around (Every time I look around) Ooh baby, ooh baby It’s making me crazy It’s in my face

OMC

Up Next: A Simple Salad

The line from the Jimmy Buffet song Margaritaville keeps ringing in my head. I haven’t been drunk for two weeks, but there’s definitely been some drinking going on at our house. Not that it helps. I wake up every day and it’s the same bad news- worse than the day before actually. First thing in the morning, I check my phone to see how many more people have died of coronavirus. You know things are bad, when you’re waiting for a peak of deaths, because at that point, it will go down. I keep waiting for someone to call “Olly, olly oxen free,” and tell me it’s all over and we can come out and play.

Sometimes when I’ve had too much to drink, I have an urge to run, to hide, to escape. I’ve had that urge since this whole thing started, but there’s nowhere to run to, no place to hide and nowhere to escape to. The coronavirus is EVERYWHERE. No place is sacred or exempt. I don’t think I ever took for granted my basic freedom of being able to get in the car and go wherever I wanted, or hop on a plane and fly somewhere new and exotic. Now- not happening .

I consider myself an introvert with a social streak;  I never knew how much I would miss people. Friends- to have lunch, drinks, dinner with, or just chat and hang out. I miss my Book Club, tennis team, yoga class, Cookbook Book Club, Happy Hour buddies. I think it’s why people kept going to the grocery store (and some still are) long after being advised not to. It was the last place you could see people (that you weren’t already stuck with), the last everyday task that felt remotely normal.

“Why are people still going to the grocery store?” my sister Kelley demanded to know.

“It’s the last thing we have,” I answered.

I even miss people on the street, total strangers, although now that doesn’t feel safe either. I’m staying far enough away that they can’t cough or sneeze on me, but what if the person walking in front of me JUST coughed or sneezed? The diabolical air droplets carrying dreaded coronavirus can linger in the air for HOURS.

Most of all, I miss my family. And Wyatt. It’s so hard to see him in the car and not be able to kiss and hug him. That’s what grandmothers are for. He would usually yell “Gigi!” and run into my arms for a big hug and a kiss. 

“I’m sorry I can’t be close to you,” he said yesterday, as he stood a safe distance away and looked at the radish sprouts we’d we planted in my garden.

It wasn’t lost on me that my four-year-old grandson has more common sense and understands the imminent danger of “the virus” as he calls it, better than a lot of adults I’ve encountered lately.

“Me too,” I told him. “When this is all over, I’m gonna give you a big old fat kiss and hug!”

It’s like what they would say when I used  to go to Mass: “when two or more are gathered in his name”. There’s something about the collective, the experience of a mass of people that is different than the individual. Netflix at home is not the same as going to the movies. Even though I often go to the movies by myself, there’s something about watching a movie in a movie theatre with other people. You feed off their energy, pick up on it, ride with it. You laugh with them at funny parts, cry together at the sad, applaud at the end. And now- gone.

I’d been watching Ellen reruns, for a cheerful thing to do at 3 p.m. Last Monday she started broadcasting from her home in L.A. Normally, of course, she has a studio audience. Now, she’s by herself. She interviewed JLo (who lives right down the street from me, by the way) and JLo said: “I miss people.”

Yep, JLo. Me too. 

And to quote another song, from The Boss, I can’t wait for someone to  “Meet me out in the street.” Sans mask. 

Good Friday to all and stay safe.

Up Next: How to Instacart (because you shouldn’t be going to the grocery store) and Foods to eat to fight Viruses!

I consider the beginning of this strange, trapped-at-home situation to be the Monday before the state of Florida shut down all the restaurants (March 16th), because that’s when s**t really started hitting the fan. This week has been called the “Pearl Harbor” of our generation by the U.S. surgeon general, for the escalating amounts of coronavirus deaths anticipated and the lack of critical equipment available to some states.

Sobering news, for sure. It’s such a strange and unprecedented time, I have decided to give myself some kind of structure in my life as a way to not go crazy. So, besides the different themes for dinner each night, I will do laundry on Monday, clean the bathrooms on Tuesday, InstaCart shop on Wednesday, etc… The more structure I can self-impose on myself, the more in control and less helpless I feel. When I wake up in the morning, I make my bed and get dressed; these simple tasks make life seem more normal.

I always thought it would have been interesting to have lived during World War II. Besides the fact that I love the clothes, music, movies and cars of the era, it must have been an empowering and communal experience to rally round the flag to defeat a common enemy.

But this pandemic is different. The enemy is invisible, for one thing. Facts we always considered true, like: “get some fresh air” are now false. More like don’t breathe in while passing another human being. And even the ultimate comfort of gathering together to talk, hold hands, listen to music, eat dinner, hug or just hang out, is forbidden, and deemed dangerous. The danger isn’t a mustached Hitler hiling, the enemy is us, our fellow man- friends and family included.

So, I don’t imagine it feels the same dealing with this pandemic as it did living through World War II. There are shortages, like there were then, so home cooks are starting to get creative. Gardens, especially those bearing food to eat, are popular, like the Victory gardens of the forties. But I haven’t experienced that feeling of goodwill and “were all in this together” as I imagine would’ve been prevalent back then. Besides the fact the bear I put out for a kid’s Bear Hunt got stolen, when I pass people in the street (6 feet apart) the most palpable emotion I feel is fear. It’s hard to be magnanimous when you’re afraid for your life, when you look at each person you pass with suspicion. “Do you have it?” I wonder.

Women also pitched it during WWII and made a real effort to support our troops and take over in factories for the men serving in the armed forces. I’ve been wanting to help, but mostly what seems to be needed is people sewing fabric masks and I don’t sew.

I did volunteer to help serve meals to unemployed workers and the their children at a restaurant called Someone’s Son, through the Coral Gables Community Foundation, but my sister Kelley read me the riot act and begged me not to do it.

“Even with a mask?” I asked.

“Yes, even with a mask,” she said. “You’re going to be around a lot of people.”

Since she used to run a nursing home and now owns a pharmacy, I figure she knows what she’s talking about. We now have masks stationed by the front door, to go along with the gloves and hand sanitizer that was already there.

Now, in a total reversal of the original advice, the CDC does recommend wearing a mask while out in public. This is not so much to prevent you from getting sick from others, but to prevent spreading the virus if YOU are sick. Many people with coronavirus are asymptomatic and can spread the virus unwittingly. Others who get it can be contagious up to 14 days before coming down with it. I got a video today on a group chat about how the Czech Republic significantly slowed down the spread of the coronavirus, as compared to other countries. The one thing they did differently? Wore masks when they left the house.

So everything is changing on a daily basis, which inflicts panic and fear. I’m writing, reading and cooking a lot, lifting free weights, gardening and saying Novenas for my family. A journalism student from UF is coming tomorrow to interview me about my garden, after seeing photos I posted on Facebook. Zeke and I are still taking walks, but trying to vary our routes to change it up and stay away from crowded streets. And we’ve been noticing a lot of piles of junk in the swale in front of houses. Apparently, people are taking this unintended break as an opportunity to Spring clean their houses and garage.

My themed dinners this week went well.

Zeke and I were the only ones who showed up for Meatless Monday. The Curried Lentils with Kale (a Linda Gassenheimer recipe) http://www.dinnerinminutes.com was served over jasmine rice with an avocado salad. It was delicious- even Zeke liked it (I did give him some chicken to go with it). I put a homemade Middle Eastern hot sauce on it that gave it I nice kick. I love the one at Daily Bread, so made my own with jalapeño peppers I’d frozen, garlic, cilantro and olive oil. I’m on a bit of a homemade kick and also made homemade ricotta (an Ina recipe) that was SO easy and much more delicious than store bought. I spread it into my baked Ziti last Sunday and on the Date Nut Bread I made last week.

Since the chef needed a break, we ordered Flannigan’s take-out on Tuesday. The week before it was buy one, get one free rack of ribs, but this Tuesday it was buy one, get one free chicken wings. Zeke picked them up curbside, but being pandemic paranoid (aren’t we all?) didn’t check it. They messed up the order- fries instead of dirty rice and no coleslaw. Verdict: the ribs were good but the wings smallish and kind of dried out. I won’t be racing back to Flannigan’s for take-out.

Thursday the mystery meal was Chicken Quesadillas made by Emma and Lauren. They were served with yellow rice and refried beans; it was nice to not have to cook! For Fishy Friday I marinated shrimp in a delicious cilantro lime dressing, that also served as the dressing for my romaine, grilled corn and cherry tomato salad. The recipe came for the Serve it Up! cookbook I helped work on as an Autism fundraiser for the tennis community. Zeke grilled the shrimp and some cherry tomatoes on a skewer, as we sat outside, drank wine and listened to Bob Marley tunes. It almost seemed normal!

I had a Virtual Happy Hour with my Corona Virus Go Away text group on Friday at 5:30 pm on Zoom. It was great to see and hear everyone, although we did have some technical difficulties. Two of our six participants were away from Miami, so we got a peek into the landscape where they’re bunkered down for the pandemic. We cheered with our individual drinks and talked about how it’s been going. When the talk turned to toilet paper- favorite kinds, where to get it, how much we had- someone noted “This is a sad happy hour.” Sort of a contradiction, but a sad Happy Hour is better than no Happy Hour at all.

The winner of best dinner this week goes to the grilled TriTip steak we ate Saturday night. If you’ve never tried TriTip, it’s an economical and delicious cut, kind of like a brisket (according to Zeke), so it tends to be a little chewy but has a lot of flavor. We rubbed it with Santa Maria Seasoning, grilled it, let it rest and served it with mushrooms sautéed in red wine, boiled potatoes with dill, truffled green beans and grilled Italian rustic bread. It was so tasty and even better the next day, on a TriTip sandwich.

Now that we finished Tiger King, we’re on to McMillions (about the McDonald’s Monopoly scandal). We watched Screwball (funny!), so I guess we’re on a bit of a documentary kick. We also watched The Talented Mr. Ripley, one of my favorite creepy movies, last night. If I was home alone (a girl can dream!) I would be watching Fred Astaire and Ginger Roger musicals (Swing Time), romantic comedies like The Philadelphia Story, It Happened One Night and The Thin Man series. These movies were made during the depression, when people needed an escape from reality and I can’t think of a time I’ve ever needed an escape from reality more than now.

I started the new book for my book club, Blood, Bones and Butter by Gabrielle Hamilton. I’ve only just begun it, but like it. It’s a food memoir. Zeke just finished The Boys on the Boat and gave it a thumbs up. My Book Club meeting was supposed to be at my house this month. Obviously, that’s not happening now. I suggested a Zoom meeting, but didn’t get a lot of positive feedback, so we may just postpone it until we can actually get together in person. We will have all forgotten the book by then.

The 1500 piece puzzle’s done and we picked up more from a friend’s mother. Emma and Lauren have been attending classes online, so they stay busy during the day. I read an article about people going back to hobbies they loved as a child or adult, but had neglected. I bought a calligraphy tablet awhile ago I’ve finally gotten around to practicing on. It’s relaxing. I’m ordering photos I’ve taken to make into photo cards (another hobby of mine). I thought I could send them to people who need cheering up.

Zeke and I have been getting along well. I think it helps he goes to work in the morning- makes it all seem more normal. But sometimes, when he’s crunching on something while he eats, it really gets on my nerves. I just have to walk out of the room and breathe. He comes home for lunch, which he used to before, but now he’s home all day after that. I would normally have those hours between 1 and 6 to do what I wanted. Now, it’s different. We’re adjusting.

I got to see my grandson Wyatt a couple times this week. He was sitting in his Dad’s pickup truck in the driveway as we spoke from six feet away.

“When are we going to go to Disney World?” he asked. We were supposed to go two weeks ago.

“I’m not sure,” I said.

“Maybe when the virus goes away?” he asked.

“Yes, we will go when the virus goes away,” I said.

“When will that be?” he asked.

“Well, that’s the million dollar question baby,” I said. “Nobody knows.”

This week was Palm Sunday and I noticed a lot of people with palms on their doors. Has this pandemic ushered in a wave of faith? Maybe- kind of like finding religion in a foxhole. On the plus side, someone dropped off a container of purple flowers by my front door. I still don’t know who it was, but it was appreciated and I was thrilled to spot my first mango of the season on my tree. I can’t wait to taste it!

Easter is next Sunday. I asked A.J. if I could do an Easter egg hunt in the backyard and watch Wyatt through the sliding glass doors. She agreed.

“That’s so sad,” said Lauren.

It is sad, but right now, it’s better than nothing.

I haven’t decorated for Easter, really don’t feel in the mood for celebrating anything, especially since Wyatt won’t be here. But I will dye some eggs (blue for Wyatt, pink and purple for his Mom) and for the rest of the family with our names on them. I will hide them around the backyard, within sight of my deck upstairs. I will sit on the deck, watch Wyatt find them, squealing with delight and that will have to be enough for this year.

“Don’t worry about a thing, ‘Cause every little thing gonna be alright.”

Bob Marley