Eat Your Hearts Out

That’s what we did on our Sicilian adventure! Steve (who is not in the photo, because he was taking it!) and I accompanied fifteen culinary travelers on an absolutely delectable, glorious and astounding food-venture in bella sicilia. We ate, and ate, and ate until we could literally not take another bite. Just one of our lunches, steps from the sparkling Mediterranean sea, included no less than TEN courses, all fresh-fresh-FRESH fish. And some wine. Okay, quite a bit of wine.

We could not have asked for a better group of traveling companions, and the weather, the warmth of the Sicilian people, and the amazing culture of this oft-occupied island made for an amazing island idyll.

We’re already at work on the next trip—how does a culinary-focused barge cruise in Burgundy sound??

Dear Vroman’s:

Hello Jennifer—
I’m so sorry I missed you when I was in the store this afternoon. I wanted to share a story with you about my visit, which I will never forget.
I’ve been shopping at Vroman’s since I was about 4 years old…that’s a half century of books, glorious books from your wonderful store. My grandmother brought me there on special occasions — I believe she had a house account, way-back-when. My mother and I spent many hours perusing the shelves, and my own Princess Daughter was practically raised in your store. When she became a teenager, if we planned a mother-daughter day, it usually involved mani-pedis and a trip to Vroman’s together! I always loved it that if she was deserving of a treat, she invariably asked for a trip to your store. (I raised readers…all three. And I’m very proud of that!)
So, when my mom called me today, to tell me that MY BOOK was on display, in your New and Noteworthy Nonfiction area….I’m sure I screamed. As soon as I regained my composure, I know I asked her if she screamed! (She said she barely managed not to, but was looking around for someone she could tell “I am the mother of this author!” Sadly, no victims in earshot…)
So, as soon as I could clear the decks, I made a bee-line for the store…and, there it was. The I Love Trader Joe’s Cookbook..by me, Cherie Mercer Twohy. I briefly tried and failed to be casual, then asked a puzzled but accommodating clerk to snap my photo with the display.
Seriously, this is ( perhaps geekily so) one of the proudest days of my life. To have my book on the shelves of your store…well, Champagne is in order! Just to put the icing on the cake, Vroman’s was the first bookstore I’ve seen the book in—no doubt a fabulous omen!
After I basked in the glow of the moment, I headed upstairs to ask what I could do to help you sell hundreds of copies of the book. The lovely Jan was kind enough to give me your contact information, as you were not in the office. And then…she asked me to sign your copies.
I dunno if you’ve ever written a book, but if not, I hope you do, someday. I’d like everyone (well, most folks) to have a moment like that in their lives. To stand behind the counter at their favorite-bookstore-in-the-whole-wide-world, and touch Sharpie to glossy paper, inscribing a greeting to a buyer unknown.

Wow.
Thanks.
Tonight I’d planned to meet a long-time friend for wine and catching up. Our babies are off at college, so we have time to do that now. Back in the day, when time was tight, we’d try to carve out an hour or so to catch up while the kids were in school—and quite frequently, the meeting spot was Vroman’s! So you can bet that we’ll be meeting there tonight. If you see two women snapping photos, and hugging, perhaps with tears in their eyes, that’ll be us!  And on Saturday, when the Princess Daughter comes home for Fall Break from her freshman year at college, I know just where to take her first! She will be beyond thrilled…and proud of her mama.
So, thanks for a “life moment”. Please do let me know what I can do to help you make those books fly off the shelf…although I hope they stay prominently displayed on the New and Noteworthy table for a while!

Cheers!

Cherie

www.chezcherie.com

I don’t do cakes. No buttercream roses, no fancy frosting flourishes for me. I can bake, but I am not a baker. And I am absolutely not a cake decorator. But when your daughter has the lead in the school play—Barefoot in the Park—what are ya gonna do? Today was one of the days where, by picking up a piping bag, I was the best-mommy-ever. Break a leg, B…or bare a foot, anyhow.

Olive Curing Season

About this time of year, my favorite produce market features fresh green olives for about a buck fifty per pound.  I can’t resist them, because I’d never seen them for sale anywhere before I started shopping at this place. This year I’m determined to nail the curing and brining process, and this is the first step. We’ve got about 4 lb. of gorgeous green olives, stems and stray leaves removed. They’re immersed in water, which will be changed every day for ten days before the brining process begins. This first step will remove the incredible bitterness contained in a raw olive…bite into one, and recall it viscerally for the rest of your life. (I kid you not—the mere mention of uncured olives will cause your face to rictus into the involuntary spasm that nibble invoked.) Makes me wonder, like the oyster, the lobster and some other delectables—who in their right mind first decided that something edible could be fashioned from this freaky thing? And how grateful I am that she did.