Food, Family, and Being a Regular

“I miss the banter with friends and family, which more often than not takes place within the confines of a decent public house. So I miss the pubs.”

—Chris Vance

 

Ok, full disclosure, I had to look up who Chris Vance is. Turns out he’s an actor, from England. Well, I guess if you can’t be Irish, that’s close enough. He’s right about the pubs though. Having a regular place to go to, where they remember you, where your friends hang out, and you don’t even have to look at a menu, because you know what they have is priceless. Sometimes, if you are a true regular, they start making your order when you walk in the door. It doesn’t even have to be a pub, though. I am a fan of small pubs where they greet me like family, but honestly, if you have a favorite coffee shop, bistro, or diner, it’s the same thing. It’s knowing that when you walk in the door, you’ll be among friends. You’ll get asked about your kids, your dog, your day. The waitress will remember that you like extra cream in your coffee, which will probably be waiting for you at your regular spot. Having a spot is important if you’re going to be a regular. Every old sitcom that has a restaurant or a bar in it shows the characters always sitting in the same place. Norm at Cheers, Seinfeld at “The Restaurant,” and of course the iconic orange couch from “Friends” that was magically always available, despite being the best seat in a crowded coffee shop. Having a spot means that you sort of own a tiny bit of real estate in a favorite place. It’s an honor that comes with the designation of being a regular.

Luckily there are a lot of local pubs and restaurants around that I like, and that, to their credit, keep letting me come back. There is no place like The Barnacle in a storm, the Muffin Shop lobster rolls are perfection, and Scott and Emily at Sea Salt know just how I like my lettuce wraps. Years ago, when the Salem Diner wasn’t just a write-off for the university and was actually owned by a real family, it was my first stop most mornings. Before anyone was awake, I’d creep out of the house and go there for a coffee, at my favorite spot at the counter. I’d catch up with the owner, chat with other regulars, and start my day on a positive note of community and connection. 

I thought I wouldn’t find another spot like that for coffee, but luckily, a cafe opened up in Swampscott, with delicious food, excellent service, and people that know me and welcome me. Cafe Avellino’s owner Teresa Siriagno has saved my bacon (or should I say prosciutto) more than once with takeout family meals, good music, and a place to sit and chat with new friends and old friends. It was especially nice when a storm knocked power out at our house, but Teresa was open and made room for us to have a hot meal, a cold drink, and charge up our phones.

 

What’s even better than a really nice Italian place, that has good coffee, authentic cannoli, and is across from a beach? A sister restaurant, right downtown Marblehead! La Sirena is the second spot opened by Teresa, and it’s been a most welcome addition to a street of fun shops, and locals. La Sirena also has live music, well, at least it did in the “Before Times” when you could sing and play the harmonica without it being a hazmat event. The pandemic has been hellish for restaurants, pubs, and coffee shops. Many have closed their doors and may not open again. 

 

Teresa has met the challenge head-on, however, and when she couldn’t hire a band and host people, she turned to family meals and take out. Remember back in April and May, when going to the grocery store was like some kind of decathlon of obstacles, stress, and fear? That’s when Cafe Avellino became the lifeboat that kept my family from drowning in yet another boxed rice and dried out chicken. Teresa knew that family meals that come ready to eat, with crusty bread and good sauce are a bright spot on the dark days. I did my part by telling everyone I knew (and even a few random strangers) to go get some of her food, and it turns out there were so many customers from Marblehead going over the line to Swampscott, that she just had to make it happen here too. La Sirena is becoming a one-stop-shop for fresh pastry, gourmet coffee, small bites, and family meals. I’m so happy I can stay here in the ‘Head to get my favorite food, because, hey, there’s still that Marblehead/Swampscott rivalry thing, so staying local matters. Stop by La Sirena soon, get some good food, and say “Benvenuta” to Teresa.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Laws of the Lunch Room.

“I believe in stopping work and eating lunch.”

---L’Wren Scott

“Lunch is for wimps.”

---Oliver Stone

Photo from the Salem News, 2014 Ken Yuszkus

OK, two quotes, opposite meanings. How is this even possible on a topic like lunch? Who doesn’t like lunch? Why kind of workaholic non-foodie doesn’t want to take a break from whatever your day is like, have a bite of something delicious, chat with a friend, or read a book and chill for a little while? Lunch is fantastic, lunch should be mandatory. When I am queen of the #$*% universe (which is what my iPhone calls me, because my kids fiddled with it and I don’t know how to fix it) lunch will be required.

I’ve recently started spending a few days in an office setting, and it’s been interesting. Brown bagging it was a thing of the past for me, but it’s back again because it’s a money saver and it keeps me on my Weight Watcher plan of slowing down the growth of my back end that was becoming a bigger part of my life than was necessary. What I’d forgotten about was what should be called “The Breakroom Code of Conduct.” In every office, there is a break room. There are usually vending machines, a microwave, a fridge, and some tables, and it’s a place for people to store their food, heat leftovers, read the paper, have a cup of coffee and go off the clock for a little while. There some actions and behaviors, however, that are simply not done, and they are part of this code. Here are some of the basics, just to review, because based on what I’ve heard from a few people, not everyone is aware of the code.

1)    Thou shalt not steal other people’s food. Think this is obvious? Think again. Yes, the refrigerator is a communal space, but the food in it is not just there for the taking. There are names on the containers, what does that mean? Not yours! It’s sad to see someone wandering around looking for their lost ham and cheese sammich. This doesn’t happen at my new office, but some friends have said their office fridge is like the Wild West, you just never know when something is going to get picked off.

2)    Clean up after yourself. Again, should be obvious, but apparently, some people (and I have at times been one of those people) are unclear on the concept. If you blew up your chicken parm in the microwave, clean it up, otherwise, to the next person, it looks like someone roasted a hamster.

3)    No fish. Ever. Well, if they are alive and in a beautiful tank, that’s OK. However, there is no place for fish anything in an office kitchen. Sure, you bought it all fresh and cooked it, and there were leftovers, waste not, want not, I get it. Just keep that Finnan Haddie at home, OK? While it might have smelled heavenly in your oven, two days later in a small windowless space with no range hood fan, it smells like the Gorton’s fisherman went on a three-day bender. No fish!

4)    If you make popcorn, make enough to share. It’s simply not right to have a big delicious bag of buttery popcorn and not share it. The smell of popcorn hits on all the brain’s reward centers. Which shows how stupid we are as a species, because that smell is diacetyl, and it’s wicked bad for you. Still, sharing is caring. Just buy the organic kind without the dry cleaning fluid and throw some real butter on it.

5)    Every once in a while make something, or purchase something, that’s yummy, like cannoli or homemade cookies. Then send out an office-wide email that the treats are there for all who hunger. There is no currency like baked goods in the office environment; why do you think they call them “brownie points?”

Every office is different, but lunch is a constant. Lunch is good. Lunch works. If that makes me a wimp, so be it. Share the love in the lunchroom; just don’t be a slob about it. Your co-workers will thank you. Also, if it ever stops raining, blow out of that breakroom and get some sun at lunchtime. Take a walk, buy an ice cream cone, and come back happy.

The Lunch Box Hall of Fame

"If your arteries are good, eat more ice cream. If they are bad, drink more red wine. Proceed thusly."

---Sandra Byrd, Bon Appetit

I'm not much for ice cream or red wine, but I like the attitude of this quote. Yes, too much ice cream is terrible for you. Sure, too much wine is a problem as well. Kale is a superfood, we should all eat more kale, right? Well, whatever, but I guarantee if you go on a weekend kale bender, you're going to spend more time worshiping the porcelain overlords than I ever did after a weekend of Jameson and bad behavior. I was younger then though, perhaps I am past those days? No, never mind, I'm so not. 

Still, thinking back to unhealthier times brought back memories of the pitiful food and snacks that I grew up with. Pitiful in nutrition that is, but most of what was in the pantry of my childhood kitchen was delicious. Not a lick of it was homemade either. From a snack perspective, it's a wonder any kid growing up in the 70s is even still alive. Truly there should be a Lunch Box Hall of Fame for some of these creations.

Some of the meals I toted around in my genuine Emergency! lunch box with my TV boyfriend Johnny Gage on the lid would probably make a nutritionist lose her low-fat lunch. The sandwiches were, of course, made with the staple of every home at the time, Wonder bread. It was so spongy you could roll bits of it into little balls and throw them at your friends.  They were like little Super Balls; they'd just bounce off. On the sandwich would be a couple of greasy slices of baloney. I still don't know exactly what's in baloney, but that's OK, it can remain a mystery. Next to the sandwich, was my favorite thing ever, a can of pudding. Yes, a can.  Pudding came in a can, with a razor sharp metal lid you had to pop open. You could slice off a finger on these little treats, but no one ever did. That tiny can full of butterscotch goo was the highlight of my day in third grade. Of course, there had to be chips too. My mother was a bargain hunter so we had the chips in the plain wax paper bags because we bought the big cardboard drum full of some off brand of chips and we'd toss a handful into a bag for lunch. Finally, the matching cold jug of milk, with its screw cap/cup as a top, which always had milk in it. Once a week I was allowed to get school milk, and I'd chose chocolate so I could feel like the richest kid on the block. So, to review, for more years than I can remember lunch consisted of a rusty metal box full of sugar, fat, carbs, and salt. Those were the days, my friend; we thought they'd never end.

I know several moms who still have young children, and when they talk about ideas for snacks or packed lunches, it's all edamame and hummus. Bento boxes filled with pickled bean sprouts, organic bunny crackers (Goldfish are so 1990s), probiotic yogurt and farm share berries. No lukewarm school milk, no way. It's almond Silk something or other and cold jugs full of kombucha and kefir. These are some seriously gourmet lunches, with every carb and gram of protein duly noted.

(#SorryNotSorry but this is ridiculous. This mum needs to be medicated)

Naturally, I tried to do a little better with my own kids. They bought lunch from time to time because pizza day is a big deal now, but there were home-packed lunches a lot too. No more Wonder bread, now it was whole grain. No more cans of pudding, they come in cups now, with a paper lid instead of a deadly weapon. The fruit was practically required, or else the teachers would look at you funny on parent night. Thermos jugs are gone, replaced with BPA free water bottles. Putting chips in your child's lunch might get you shunned at PTO.  Healthy is better, no question, but I think our kids are missing out on some treats that, while horrible, were still staples of a happy childhood.

Twinkies, spray cheese in a can, Pop Tarts and so many other goodies that are gone now, or at least frowned upon. In the early 70s, Apollo rockets were launching all the time; we ate snacks inspired by astronauts, wasn't that enough? Who needs fresh squeezed OJ when there was Tang? Why bother with a ham sandwich when there were "Space Food Sticks." Don't come at me with your green juice smoothie until you've experienced a Carnation Instant breakfast drink in Dutch Cocoa flavor, or, as we call it now, a "protein shake." Yes, the food of my youth was a hot mess of chemicals and preservatives, but now and then, I commit a food crime and have a Little Debbie snack cake, washed down with some Kool-aid. Why not be a kid again, just for one meal? Hold the sprouts, and live a little.  

Artificial Intelligence In The Modern Kitchen

"Artificial Intelligence is no match for natural stupidity"--Unknown

I am a science journalist when I'm not annoying the hometown readers here, and my main topic is neuroscience. Artificial intelligence (AI) is real. There's a lot of math involved, and thankfully, I don't know have to understand all of it, but algorithms and machine learning are part of a lot of new research on brain cancer, Alzheimer's disease, autism and so much more. It's necessary for science, medical research, the space program but I'm not sure if my appliances really need it. I'm shopping around for a new microwave since mine is about to bite the dust. Perhaps they will have some after Christmas sales, and I can save some Kitchen Aid or GE nuker from being sent to the Island of Misfit Microwaves

Believe it or not, AI is the new thing for the kitchen of the future. Much like the web connected thermostats and the Alexa Wi-Fi assistants, the technology for kitchen appliances is right up there with the Jane Jetson Food-a-Rac-a-Cycle. While I would never have an Alexa (Echo, Dot, whatever) in my home because it creeps me out to think there's a live mic just waiting to use speech recognition to decipher everything it hears, some high tech in the kitchen is necessary. Cooking has never been my strong suit. It's considered a win if a meal is produced with no bloodshed, no broken glass or bones, and the fire department is not summoned.

The latest microwaves have "sensor technology" that was developed with AI. At least that's what the salesperson said; I wasn't paying that much attention to the details. My concerns were "Does it cook stuff?" and "Will you deliver it?". The microwave we chose has a popcorn button, and a potato button, both of which have little pictures on them of popcorn and potatoes, so users don't confuse them with the button makes the light go on. That one has a bulb on it. There's even a button with a little cup on it. I'm going to guess that's for making coffee or tea, but I should probably check the directions to make sure. That's another advance; the directions are all online, none of these tree-killing paper booklets, so now the cell phone is involved in downloading the app that tells me how set the clock.

Finally, it's set up, and I toss in a bag of microwave popcorn and push the button. It beeps, and across the keypad, like crawler on the bottom of the financial channel with all the stock prices, it reads "Sensing…Sensing" Really? I pushed the popcorn button, what else did it need to know, if I had Netflix and was going to "chill?" Then it said "Large bag..3.5 oz." How did it know? It was a little weird, honestly. What would be next, a disembodied voice asking me, "are you going to eat that entire thing by yourself Fatty McButter Pants?"

The next night I decide to have baked potatoes. In they go, beep beep goes the potato button.  More sensing, with the display reading, "calculating." Could my microwave have trust issues? Why doesn't it believe me?  Then it reads, "four medium potatoes." Now I'm officially scared, there were exactly four potatoes.  How does it know that? What else can it see? I was much happier when my appliances were stupid and couldn't read or count.

Except for my dishwasher. Whoever programmed that knows that I don't pre-rinse and whenever the start button is pushed, it automatically runs the "undisciplined slob" cycle on every load. Is there a mother ship that is communicating with all these appliances? What if, somewhere, there is a cloud that has all this home tech data assembled in it? Are there AI overlords that know who gets the popcorn with the extra butter and movie theater grease and who is having steamed veggies?  Are the smart refrigerators, with their ice sensors and water filters, dutifully keeping track of how long it takes to finish a pint of Ben and Jerry's. Pro tip: we don't need artificial intelligence for that, it takes two episodes of Grey's Anatomy, or one viewing of the movie "When Harry Met Sally." Technology is fantastic, and we need it, but as far as the kitchen goes, I might be more of a Wilma Flintstone than a Jane Jetson.