24 August - Can't Teach an Old Dog a New Trick. Really?

I did not grow up a dog lover. So how is it I have two?

Growing up in a family of nine, half of us were meant to be allergic to animal hair. And with both parents in the medical field, our home was a sterile haven. We had a beautiful aquarium that goldfish managed to jump, but our other "pets" included the occasional chipmunk or bunny one of the siblings would find. The added makeshift leash tied to our basement door was a nice touch. The "pet" of course was kept in our central social hub, the kitchen. Can't believe Mom allowed us half the things she did...but I digress.

Being petite as a child, I was always afraid of dogs. At least big dogs or small ones that bit, yelped and scratched. When I was five, our neighbors had a big fluffy white and gray dog that jumped on top of me, pinned me down and licked my face. Other experiences weren't so friendly, so I was always taught to "freeze" when I saw a dog. That made walking home from buddy Jane's house an hour-long ordeal. I could see my house one backyard away. But it was the one with a dog.

So when my husband asked if we could get a dog our first year of marriage, my answer was an absolute "no." We took a drive through the countryside with his brother Rick and wife Cathy and saw a handwritten scrawled sign: Puppies for Sale. We pulled over and looked at the litter in the kennel. Cathy held one, nuzzled it, then held it out for me to hold. I crinkled my nose and kept my arms crossed. She asked, "Don't you love that puppy smell?" I swatted at the imaginary gnats swarming around my neck as I started to itch. I sniffed it to possibly understand what "puppy smell" meant. To dog lovers, this may be nostalgia, where the scent opens up an album of personal random memories of warmth, childhood, laughter and perhaps sorrow, I suppose. An experience that did not resonate with me, but might have been collected in raising a dog from puppyhood. I looked at the seven little creatures playfully jumping all over each other, barking in excitement. But there was one yellow lab, content in the corner, not seeking attention but just happy that she existed in the first place.

As we headed back to our apartment on Oakland and Thomas, I could tell my husband kept planting the seed. I said, "If we get one, it has to be mellow and you have to give it a bath three times a week." That's all he needed -- he had the checkbook in hand and left to pick her up. And he did give her a bath several times a week so I could hold her. Until he said, "You realize this is bad for her coat." Oops. Oh, then let's shut that down, shall we?

The education process of raising a puppy was quite interesting to me...like giving her too many treats was like giving a newborn a chocolate bar; realizing smelling funnies in my dream in the middle of the night was reality...that there really was fecal matter in the middle of our bedroom floor; but also, meaningful parental lessons like being able to teach and train by structure, repetition and praise.

We endearingly named her Scout, after the charming little girl in To Kill a Mockingbird. Scout came to be my baby. When we moved to our first home, we let her run everywhere. We built an indoor/outdoor kennel. I felt the joy of her licking my skin and actually took her for walks, not minding at all to pick up after her. And when it was time to sleep, she slept in my arms under the covers.

But when the babies came, Scout gradually became a pet. As the attention waned, and I would rock each baby to sleep, she would lay at my feet. In looking back at photos, she stood guard behind the children. And the children paid their own interpretation of "attention" to Scout. As the years went by, I noticed in the quiet, I would turn off the last light to head upstairs. She would be waiting for me in the foyer, and follow me to bed. She still does. My personal guard and loyal friend. Who asks for nothing.

Scout is now 13 years old. Her arthritis kicked in a few years ago. I came home one day to a black lab puppy running around our backyard. I asked, "Whose is that?" My husband smiled and said, "I thought you said it was okay..." Um...for what? That's OURS? The month before we move to a new home? But he explained Jet, our new puppy, might help keep Scout young. We surmise that Scout is still waiting for us to come clean and call off the joke -- that this thing that stalks her at her most private moments of going to the bathroom, is truly a bad dream. After four years, I think she understands it is reality.

Though Scout has lost her hearing, we have not given up hope that her age and arthritis define anything. So after dinner last week, we decided to try to teach her a new trick -- proving wrong the adage "You can't teach an old dog new tricks." We looked down at our plates, which included purple potatoes, and decided to try to balance one on her nose.

The video shows our attempts. It also shows our effort in switching to another trick, but poor Scout just physically wasn't able to turn over -- nor could she hear her cues. So we switched back to what we knew ... structure, repetition and praise. And finally, progress.

Changing the piece of food to an inanimate object helped too, poor thing....

17 August - Raising Kayla, a Child with Cerebral Palsy

I walked into her home and saw little 8-year-old Brooklyn at the kitchen table, scrapbooking quietly. I looked around to see the creatively painted and well-decorated playroom, neat and clean living room and family room. And I looked on the other side of the kitchen table to find beautiful little Kayla in her wheelchair with an artificial aquarium on her tray. Kayla was quietly spitting up, gasping for air. I was a bit apprehensive. Dear friend Shelly hugged me hello with her warm smile. She walked over to Kayla and calmly wiped her mouth as we caught up. Kayla was born with cerebral palsy.

Wikipedia states cerebral palsy, or CP, as "damage to the motor control centers of the developing brain during pregnancy, childbirth or after birth up to age three." There is no cure. Incidence is two per 1,000 live births. And though CP children can have a "normal" lifespan, symptoms become worse as they get older.

I asked if it troubles Shelly to see her daughter struggle this way, trying to take a simple breath. Shelly said, "We have to teach her how to manage by herself, otherwise we would be following her around constantly, doing it for her." I did not realize Kayla could be taught. Period. Such is my ignorance, as I recalled a CP classmate I befriended in college who asked me to go out dancing. Dancing, not dinner. A happy random memory that made me chuckle and gave me hope for Kayla. “So teach versus enable, so she can be independent?" I asked. She thoughtfully replied, "Isn't that what we all want for our kids?"

I think back to when I first visited Shelly months after Kayla was born. She was struggling trying to figure out why Kayla was not keeping her milk down. She took one ounce per hour and was exhausted. "I remember the day she was born. My doctor did an ultrasound and assured me that everything was fine. When they weighed her, she was floppy and was 6 pounds 7 ounces. Brook was 9 pounds 2 ounces when she was born so I was expecting Kayla to be in that same realm. Looking back, she had no muscle tone. After one month, she didn't have the reflexes she should have. The doctor thought it was neurological; we started physical therapy at New Berlin Therapies. You have a baby and do not think anything is wrong...."

From that point, she and her husband John, began to realize what was coming; though I am certain, it was and still is an unknown. One only operates with a finite amount of knowledge -- the wisdom comes through experience. They needed to learn things like holding her jaw so she could swallow easier as a newborn, to placing a NG (nasal) tube in her septum at a specific time -- only when Kayla exhaled -- then feed it into her stomach. They needed to test that the tube indeed was placed in the stomach, not the lungs, by listening with a stethoscope. "Our eyes were really opened to how much we had to do at home. I thought, 'I'm not a nurse; I'm not a doctor. I'm a mom. And this is not what I am supposed to be doing. Home is where she needs to be safe. I will take her to the Emergency Room, but I will not do this here at home.' John had to do it [place the tube].... If I have an ailment, I am not one to pop a pill, so I was fighting this for Kayla. But the seizures are hard to control without medication. Then you have the additional supplements because of the medication’s side effects. When puberty hits and hormones kick in, it will be another change. It's like we are on this ever changing timeline."

So what does it take to care for five-year-old Kayla?
In a day, Kayla will intake 14 different medications, some might be several times per day. These are for seizure, movement and supplements. Because of Kayla's reflux, these meds go into her small intestine, not stomach, through a GJ (gastrojejunal) tube.

• At 6am, Shelly cleans her up from any wetness or leakage due to the 1,000 ml of water given throughout the night. She gives Kayla the first round of medication, nine syringes. Shelly then empties out her vent bag of stomach acid and places on her orthotics (braces for her legs.) After the meds, Kayla falls back asleep.
• When she wakes, Shelly gives her a full bath. Then it is exercise time, depending on the day. Or off to an appointment or two. Every month Kayla comes down with an infection where appointments follow. Any new medication is filled and the medication sheet is changed to control other symptoms that may arise.
  
• Kayla also has therapy twice per week. It is normal to pack for a full day, knowing homebound is at 4pm.
  
• At 1:30 or 2, Kayla is given another round of medication. This is followed by another nap.
• Dinnertime. When Kayla wakes, Shelly cooks a family dinner. Thereafter is dedicated family time.
• Bedtime. The last round of medication is given. Then the bag of water of 1000 ml is put in place.

"We have to be structured but very flexible. Kayla can be fine one day and the next need to be hospitalized due to respiratory complications. Our environment is ever changing and we just have to adapt and figure it out. Brook is our other child in the world of 'normal.' It's keeping that balance. We get out as much as possible. It's so easy to become your own world in your own house. We've met so many people who are trying to find the answers and on the same journey, and yet live that life of 'normal.' We used to see a handicapped child in the grocery store or at a park...I never knew that world existed. Kayla has opened that door."

Penfield Children's Center was an incredible light of hope during their struggle and journey. Shelly and John were the Guests of Honor at the 2005 Penfield Croquet Ball Gala. John spoke and shared their story. “You could have heard a pin drop. Many of the men that sat in that room that night saw themselves in John, [realizing] this can happen to anyone.” They gave back once again by serving as the Event Chairs last year.

"This [situation] has challenged us spiritually, emotionally and physically. There were nights we would be up all night long. John...I don't know how he did it. He's the type of dad who would be up with Brook just because. He is a strong man. We have always stayed close, remained a team and were grateful for what we had." And luckily, they have help that came out of the blue. A nurse named Bethany approached John at church and offered her help. "She is a godsend and watched Kayla for a week while John, Brook and I went to Disney. That was very hard for me. I never wanted to divide our family. But then I realized when we are in the hospital with Kayla, Brook is with a grandparent or friend. I rationalized it as it's no different."

I realize it takes a certain kind of person, couple, to take care of a child with CP, or any developmentally-challenged child. I always thought God gives you what you can handle, so let it be a testament to one's strength of character to be dealt a difficult hand. But to actually be in the experience is not theory. It's reality. I remember seeing John walk in to my former dojang carrying Kayla while Brooklyn attended her first tae kwon do class. I was on my way out and remember how crowded it was. He told me afterwards he held Kayla through the entire hour with all the tubes in place. No one had given up his or her seat.

Shelly is one of those women who I turn to for a dose of wholesomeness. I hope everyone has a few of these people in his or her life. Her attitude is incredible and contagious. From the outside, one might think "simple housewife," as she bakes cookies for the neighbor kids and makes soup for strangers. (Have you or I done that lately?) On the inside, she has an incredible inner strength. Before becoming a mother, Shelly used her Biology and Microbiology degrees to extract DNA for hypertension research for the Medical College of Wisconsin. But her life and lab were in New Zealand.

And at our friend's lakehouse last summer, Shelly, in her 1940s classic fashionista bathing suit jumped on the jetski and took off for a period of time. "It was invigorating to have the wind whip through my hair at nearly 60 miles an hour, feel the water spray against my legs and all the while having the comfort of the warm sun on my back. I felt it like never before. When you are starved of something and first taste it again, the opportunity of experiencing it for the first time resurrects. My senses were at their peak. I just took it all in and relished in the fact that I could." John held Kayla in the shade and Brook bounced on the raft. When Shelly returned, she went on the big bounce and was launched into the air by a high school football player into the water. She is a caregiver first and foremost, but her resourcefulness, playfulness, creativity...person...is still there.

I asked her, in looking back to the first struggle to where they are now, what her thoughts were. "At that time, I doubted my ability that I would be able to provide for her the way that every child deserves. We didn’t have the option of reading ‘What to Expect when you are Expecting’. We researched every symptom and genetic disorder that was published. But Kayla has written her own guidebook and has been a tremendous teacher to our family and anyone who has had the opportunity to spend time with her. Sometimes I still say, ‘God got the wrong address.’ [Laughing] But those are times when I simply forget to turn down her feeding pump to 55ccs from 95ccs and she's feeling like she just ate five McDonald's shakes. Our goal, just like any other parent, is to give our children the best quality of life. I think the tables have turned in the respect that Kayla has given us quality of life. My eyes are now opened to experiencing Kayla’s world with all my senses, much like on the jetski that beautiful Saturday afternoon. We will ride the wave...and whatever comes, will come."

10 August - Surfing the "Shark Capital of the World"

If you Googled the “shark capital of the world,” what is the first place you think would be listed? Somewhere far away? Exotic? Australia? Hawaii? Wrong. It's New Smyrna Beach, Florida. Just so happens to be the sleepy little town my family visits every year. It is an unpretentious, chillax town that has become our haven. It has our favorite "go to's" like Toni and Joe's for the world's best hoagie. Or Spanish River Grill for tapas, ambience and sangria. We live at the pool, with the Atlantic Ocean as our view. We walk the beach in the mornings and grab our coffee at our favorite little coffee shop. We visit our nostalgic surf shops like Quiet Flight for a pair of shades or Billabongwear. Or Inlet Charley's for a pair of Sanuks.

Prior to this annual trip, I emailed Inlet Charley's, a surf shop on Flagler Avenue, to inquire of surfing conditions. I also mentioned that last summer, friends from the UK took my son shorefishing, right in front of our condo. My son came running up the beach yelling. My first fear, as I ran towards him, was he had gotten caught in the hook. Nope. He caught a 2-foot white-tipped reef shark. A shark. For real? How nice. My first reaction was, "I didn't think they came that small." Brilliant. The email response I received stated, "It has been sharky at the lnlet but surfing is fine farther down the shore line. Just stay away from the Inlet and you will be fine." Sharky. Really? Because I can WALK to the Inlet from where we stay. I thought that was the funniest response. My friend Nat says that's like "scattered showers." Like 30%? 40% chance?

In further research and in talking with my husband, he said he wouldn't worry. He advised not to look at an aerial view before I head out. Brother-in-law Scotti said he went out to the sandbar and wouldn't think twice about worrying. So I went.

My two-hour class at Nichol's Surf Shop was incredibly comforting. Our instructor Mike said he would be the first one out among the four of us. And if anyone would get bit or grazed, it would be him. For $75, that was a kind gesture. We spent 40 minutes talking about safety and the tide. Then we practiced getting up on the board on land. I am a very visual person and in order for things to make sense, I need to see it in my head, follow the logic, understand why, then apply the feel. "Paddle hard, push up, slide your foot underneath you and shift your weight to the back foot." This is the opposite of snowboarding, where you shift your weight to the front foot, towards the hill. Mike also said this was probably the most difficult of those sports -- skiing, snowboarding, skateboarding, boogie boarding, etc. -- because the wave and energy are different every time.

We set out for our morning swim. I forgot that I had to actually submerge my body in order to do this. I also forgot I didn't like being cold. Afraid I would feel something nipping at my ankle, I quick dunked my head under and followed my two other classmates. To get past the shoreline waves, we velcroed the tether around whichever ankle belonged to the "back foot" and dragged our board behind us like a dog on a leash. Then we paddled out to at least six feet of water. To overcome the incoming waves, we were taught to do a push up so the wave went between our bodies and the board.

We sat and waited for the waves to come. I found it was difficult to know what I was looking for. Mike told us to watch for when each started to stand, not simply roll in. When one came in, Mike turned my board, told me to paddle, then yelled, "Stand!" I stood, but I didn't get the "feel" for the energy of the wave underneath us. How "Point Break"-esque. Good ol' Patrick Swayze and neophyte Keanu Reeves. So I turned to my visualization. I knew I would not be able to stand without control. So the only way to gain control is to keep a low center of gravity, therefore, don't focus on the stand at all. If I had to, I needed to keep my hands on the board.

I tried a few more times and it worked. I went back to catch Mike and my classmates for one more wave. They were quiet. I asked if lessons were over and they said, "No." After a few minutes of silence, Lauren another student said, "There's something out here." Oh. Well, note to self. I better get my ankles on the board and tuck in my toes. Then get out of the fringe and head to the human that is in the water - Mike. As he graciously offered, he would be the first. They said it was something dark and surfaced. Probably a manatee. I wondered if that was Japanese for "Jaws." Lauren explained they were cute, sweet creatures like sea cows. Again, Japanese for "Cujo?"

Mike explained that he has surfed here for years and that sharks come near him all the time. Injuries were typically from being grazed, not bitten. And we should remember that we were in their home and habitat. That was a neat way to look at it, actually. They were not the intruders, we were. When I saw this ocean as a place to be respected, I was at peace. We went for one more wave and headed in.

It saddens me every year to say goodbye to this haven. Maybe I’ll try the Inlet next year….

27 July - Serving as Sous Chef at My Favorite Restaurant, La Merenda

I always wondered how executive chefs of my favorite restaurants do it. How do they consistently plate tasty dishes to indulge? What is their philosophy? What is their management style which keeps the same servers happy day in and out, and the same line cooks behind-the-scenes? So I asked the executive chef of one of my favorite restaurants if he would mind me shadowing him for a day and play sous chef. Peter Sandroni of La Merenda in Milwaukee, owns a tapas restaurant boasting international cuisine. What draws me to this restaurant time and again is enjoying high quality food in an unpretentious atmosphere. It is, in a nutshell, Peter. His philosophy, humility and integrity come through in his food. The flavors are gutsy, intelligent, fun and diverse. The cultures represented range from Italian, Indonesian, Puerto Rican, Filipino to Argentinian and Moroccan, among others. I asked if we could create some twist and use the evening as a community service opportunity as well. We created specials based on traditional Filipino cuisine and made it into a food drive for Hunger Task Force.

We promoted the dinner on two local affiliates which was a completely new experience for me, The Morning Blend and Fox WakeUp. It was a nice trip down memory lane to my broadcast classes back in Madison, but I felt like a child awaiting the first day of school. My husband asked, "You're nervous? Good. It means you are being challenged." I walked in to one of the stations that morning, shook the producer's hand, was told a guest canceled and had to get miked straightaway. No time for primping. C'est la vie. I saw the bubble of hair in the monitor and chuckled inside. I couldn't quite pat it down while talking to the beautiful and ever calming Kim Murphy. I cannot say enough about the hosts of both the shows. They were professional and make their guests feel so very comfortable.

Afterwards, I headed to the restaurant. Peter and I reviewed his typical day:

10am review checklist of what to order and prep
10:45 off to stores
12:30 back at restaurant to start prepping
lunch hour in-progress
4:00 waitstaff meeting to review specials and how they are prepared
5:00 dinner service

I looked at the clock: 10:50. After reviewing what we needed, we were on our way to El Rey. I learned that Peter's educational and professional background actually began in political science. When his aunt and uncle asked for his help in opening a restaurant, this quickly turned into a love for cooking. He joined Chicago's famous restaurant group Lettuce Entertain You Enterprises (Scoozi, Cafe Babareeba, Tru, Nacional 27, etc.) Shortly thereafter, Peter moved to the KDK Restaurants which include the likes of Marche and Red Light in the West Loop. This is where he met his current employee, but soon-to-be-boss, Jennifer Aranas, a Filipina chef. When she opened the nationally-acclaimed Rambutan, she asked Peter to join her team. Studying under Jennifer for a few years shaped and refined Peter's style of cooking and vision of his restaurant.

"She thought the only way for people to try a wide variety of food is to force them into it. The small plating of tapas makes people order a few plates at a time. What a fun way to dine. Every culture has their own version, so I thought why don't we put that all together."

After purchasing plantains and treats for the line cooks, Peter led us to the next destination and search: Asian Mart for Japanese eggplants. We walked into one of his favorite Asian marts, where the shy Thai owners and their daughters joke and welcome Peter. He loves supporting all the local small business grocers. What we found instead were the perfect alternate that looked like mini watermelons. They were beautiful in color; a nice complement to the braised ox tail dish, Kare Kare.

11:45. Back to the restaurant and ahead of schedule. The boxes of produce arrived, which came from the local markets. Peter is a huge proponent of helping local farmers, even if "local" may mean 1 1/2 hours away. We went through boxes of fingerling potatoes, heirloom tomatoes, pea pods and beans, and tasted berries upon berries... His manager Mary asked, "What are you going to do with the berries?" His response was, "I don't know yet but look at that color." He orders his chicken from Springdale Farms, which he would butcher and use in one of our specials. It seemed Peter downplays his support for local farmers. "I feel like I'm using them to market myself. It doesn't feel right. It sounds elitist. I help them in other ways." Very interesting philosophy since it indeed would be a draw knowing he orders the majority of his produce and proteins from local farms. He goes about it humbly without it stamped across every aspect of his restaurant. As we were talking, he figured out what to do with the berries: add them to the creme brulee. Yum.

We prepped and cooked together. I trimmed the ox tail and chatted of how my mom was in the kitchen 24/7 growing up. She had seven kids, the wife of a doctor, no cleaning lady and somehow prepared 3-4 dishes every night. Boy, I have no idea how she did it. The memory of coming down the stairs and seeing the solo dining room light came to mind. The smell of pandesal, freshly baked Filipino bread, would permeate the house and bring me out of bed to see Mom kneading the dough. Just then, some patrons came to dine and pay their respects....so did Peter. "Everything I do, you do today. Greeting the customers is one thing. Follow me." This is also what we love about Peter, we see him personally thanking the guests as often as he can, shaking their hands, learning their names, asking about their families.

4:00. Dinner service was to begin in an hour. My friend Amy set up the Hunger Task Force display to help greet people as they walked in. We set up the menu cards, which read:

"In the Philippines, food and cooking is more than a means of sustenance. It is a labor of love and a way to show concern, gratitude and hospitality. It provides a sense of community. It is our culture. Tonight's event was merely to bring us all together under one roof, to give back and perhaps -- in keeping with the blog -- to try something new. Filipino food is heavily influenced by the Spanish and Chinese cultures. Though there were so many dishes we wanted to make, we chose a few classics and added a La Merenda twist. These dishes have been created exclusively for you. Thank you for joining us. Please enjoy." The menu items were: chicken adobo (chicken in soy, garlic and vinegar), kare kare, (braised ox tail in peanut butter sauce), peter's twist (coriander-crusted beef), pancit (Asian noodles), gulay at gata (vegetables and coconut with mashed potatoes), lumpia (egg rolls) and halo halo (sweetened beans and fresh fruit with ice cream, leche flan and ube, purple yam.)

Peter talked with his staff to debrief them on the overall concept of the dishes and how they are prepared. They joked and he commended them on how well they work under pressure. He told them he anticipated doubling the typical guest list. The bar and dining area began to fill as guests from all across my history began to enter the room. The parents of my childhood friend arrived; dear Paul Counsell, my former boss from Cramer-Krasselt and BIG foodie arrived; friends and former co-workers from Chicago, Madison and far north; and all friends in between. My husband and I felt it was like our wedding reception relived.

5:00 In full swing. I worked the front of the house while guests arrived. And continued to arrive. The beautiful thing is people were still calling to try to dine and the only option left was at 5 or 9:30. A good and bad problem to have. I watched in the kitchen as the orders and delivery were constant. Such is the nature of a tapas restaurant. The flow continued until 10:00. We stayed talking with our guests from Madison, which included Peter's sister Ginny.

I learned in one day some of what makes his operation successful. It's a combination of leadership and management -- he inspires his team with passion for his art. He imparts his knowledge but is open to suggestions. And when the stress hits behind-the-scenes, he is efficient and jokes around to keep things moving. I am grateful for my experience and with 175 full bellies, over 300 pounds of food and monetary donations for Hunger Task Force, twas a good night indeed. Thank you to all who came to support and to Peter and his staff.

If you would like to support La Merenda, please follow this link to the Urban Spoon website and vote: http://www.urbanspoon.com/lb/43/best-restaurants-Milwaukee

To find out more about La Merenda, please visit http://www.lamerenda125.com/.

To find out more about Hunger Task Force, please visit http://www.hungertaskforce.org/.

20 July - Alongside "Top Chef"s

Top Chef is the number one show in our household. I commented so on my Facebook status months ago and rhetorically asked who might be eliminated next. As the responses started pouring in, my friend Brian in Chicago asked, "So you really like this show? I'm friends with Stephanie Izard's sister." Stephanie, as you will recall, is the winner from Season 4. America's “Girl Next Door,” also the show's first female winner who won against Lisa and Richard in Puerto Rico. With my culinary benefit for Hunger Task Force this week, Brian asked if he might introduce us; perhaps she might be available to help. We started emailing, and though Stephanie was unfortunately booked, she asked if I might be interested in working on one of her charities, Chicago's premiere "Chefs and the City." Um, let me think. Why, yes.

I walked in to the beautiful Peninsula Hotel on State Street. Thought of all the questions I would ask and was hoping to have a sitdown discussion. Nope. Was not the type of venue or vibe. So I decided to soak it all in and talk as we go. I walked in with a black sleeveless tee, fitted black corset skirt, peep toe tangerine and cream platforms. Stephanie and her sous chefs looked at me a bit funny and said hello. They were dressed in tee shirts and jeans. Nice. Forgot to ask the dress code. But with a $250 ticket, raised center stage fashion reveals and an Oprah/Nate Berkus auction package starting at $10,000, I felt confident knowing I fell somewhere in between, wardrobe-wise.

Stephanie was as cool and relaxed as she was on the tele. We chatted some and I asked how she handles the fame. She said, "I don't even think of [the title of] Top Chef much anymore. I just want to focus on opening my own restaurant." Stephanie has been keeping busy with eight different charities, traveling and preparing for her new place, "The Drunken Goat." Lately, she has been cooking two to three private dinners per week. I asked how she decided on the dish for today. "I'm not much of a planner. See this printed menu? This isn't what I'm making because I forgot this is what I told them. I've never made this dish before, but hopefully the flavors will come together." She doesn't plan too far ahead because she is inspired by what she might find that day, like the ingredients found today at Green City Market which will serve as one of her favorites, salsa verde. The final dish? A miso-marinated lamb, with fingerling potatoes and scallions, served over a salsa verde and topped with fried crisp onions, preserved lemon and goat milk feta.

As I quietly hovered in my shyness, one of her sous chefs was chopping parsley. She turned to me and introduce herself. "I'm Lee Ann." We exchanged pleasantries and I asked how long she had been cooking. "Well, I have been a chef for 11 years and was the Executive Chef at the French Culinary Institute in New York City." Oh. A neophyte. I was a bit embarrassed. I kept looking at her face, wondering how I knew her. Was she a friend's cousin? Were we related...I couldn't place it. I asked, "How do you know Stephanie?" She replied, "Through the show. I was on Season One then consulted on the show for four years." I flipped out and asked, "LEE ANN WONG?!" We loved her! She was polished, professional, every dish was well thought out. She smiled this beautiful smile and said, "Yep. No one recognizes me. I lost a ton of weight. Something I'm really proud of, actually." She looked gorgeous.

We talked about her diet regimen, her family background and being an executive on the show. Lee Ann initially began in fashion at FIT (Fashion Institute of Technology.) She was a successful sample maker but found the classes no longer matched what she had envisioned. So one day she was watching the one cable channel she and her roommate received in their tiny New York apartment -- Food Network. "This was the old Food Network, we're talking when Emeril Lagasse first came on." Her friends always encouraged her to cook, so she enrolled in the French Culinary Institute. She later became the Executive Chef and represented her school on the very first season of Top Chef. "I knew I'd be on national television representing my school, so I had to put my best face forward. They were ironing out the kinks, having us sit in the car for hours while they filmed...." She JUST recently watched the episode where she was bumped. "It was painful to watch." I asked what she learned. "To simplify my food. I never had my work critiqued like that before. Being an Executive Chef at a culinary school, everyone is telling you what you want to hear." Lee Ann then joined the executive team to help shape the successful show it has become. After four years of offering her perspective as a contestant, coupled with her knowledge of from The Culinary Institute, she left Bravo after filming Season 6. "It's amazing what I've done in 12 years, working with greats like Jacque Pepin. I'm just taking it easy now. I'll probably open up my own restaurant in a year or two."

I scanned the room and walked around to ask questions about this charity. Vital Bridges is a non-profit organization that serves those impacted by HIV and AIDS. They provide meals, housing, case management and prevention services to over 10,000 clients since its inception in 1988. This event, "Chefs and the City" showcases Executive Chefs from 20 of Chicago's finest -- Spiaggia, Naha, Blackbird, RL Restaurant, The Publican. Radhika Desai from Top Chef's Season 5 was stationed next to us, as she and Stephanie were representing Allen Brothers, a top supplier of beef. In preparing for an event like this, with 300 projected attendees, the three explained they prepared everything yesterday, with finishing touches today.

With an hour before service time and confidently prepared, we headed to the bar. I was able to catch up with Stephanie's sous chef David, who came from the well-known Spiaggia. After his 16-month-old daughter was born, he and his wife decided to switch careers. David became the stay-at-home dad, while his wife went back to work in the medical supply industry. After five months of bonding with his daughter Ramona, David said he gained such an appreciation for what stay-at-home parents do. It is true work. And after understanding he needed something for himself, he re-entered the culinary world with Stephanie's new restaurant, "The Drunken Goat," scheduled to open in 2010.

After a group shot, the chefs began cooking and preparing their dishes. The distinct aromatic smells started filling the room as marinated proteins hit the hot grills. I took a moment to soak this in...our nonchalant conversations, the ambient sounds of chatter and silverware clanging, professional chefs paying respects to one another. It was funny standing next to Lee Ann and Stephanie. On the tele, they look larger than life. Standing next to them, they were shorter, if not as tall as I was -- a mere 5'2". To think... these accomplished individuals lead relatively normal lives, or at least have taken extraordinary experiences and let them simmer inside and have stayed true to who they are. Just seemingly unpretentious personalities. What a privilege to be invited to spend a day getting to know each of them.

As the guests began to arrive, I started plating. It was pretty much head down and working for the next two hours. It was neat to work as a team. Where one was slowing, the other picked up. I started with a dollup of the homemade salsa verde; to follow is Lee Ann's diced fingerling potatoes. The next was David's seared miso-marinated lamb. Last was Stephanie's fried onion crisp with preserved lemon and goat milk feta. One would think plating the salsa verde was easy enough... Uh.. no... As I intensely tried following instructions, Steph joked, touching the plate, "uh...could you please make them more similar?" Halfway through service, I was starting to get sloppy and Lee Ann kindly reminded me, "Maybe half that size would be enough." We helped each other out, quietly and diligently, while Stephanie tended to her guests. It is funny to hear the banter of people telling Steph she was their favorite contender. She treated everyone as though they were old friends. I asked Lee Ann if was strange that no one recognizes her. She says, "Not at all. I am so over it," while she enjoyed dancing and laughing with David, grilling and slicing the lamb.

As some guests waited and were sneaking in taking a plate, I jumped in and greeted them to represent Stephanie. Told them of the dish she prepared and felt a part of their team. She looked at me and laughed, "Look at you!" The whole point is to make sure the head chef can do her job with ease. Guests did not slow...everyone said this was their favorite dish by far, coming back for thirds and fourths... I don't blame them, as I tried it myself. I never considered myself a lamb person, unless it was 3am at Oakland Gyros or Madison's Parthenon’s. But this was incredible. She wasn't sure if all the flavors would come together??? They most certainly did.

As the night came to a close and we stepped outside to unwind with a cocktail, we were a bit exhausted. Lee Ann and I talked about some of the interesting characters from the show, like Dale who punched a wall and hyper Andrew. She was just with Harold the other night and explained she flew in to help Steph for the weekend. Sunday would be the kickoff of Stephanie's concept "Wandering Goat Dinner Series," where she prepares meals for 40 people at different venues across Chicago until the opening of her new restaurant.

Decompressed, we all hugged and said our goodbyes. Steph asked, "Please keep in touch." Will do, Steph.

13 July - Reiki (Energy Healing) & Getting Centered

When my friend first told me of energy healing and Reiki, all I could think of was Whoopi Goldberg as Oda Mae Brown in "Ghost." I still contend that is one of the most unintended hilarious movies, by the way. And as Yve is explaining energy healing to me, I'm hearing, "Morticia, I can hardly see you. Baby, what'd you do to your hair?" ["You like it? It's called 'autumn sunrise'."] But when I learned it was about a Japanese concept of using energy for spiritual and physical healing, I was more than intrigued. In traveling to Japan last year, I have an incredibly well-founded respect for this intelligent, polite, orderly, considerate culture. Behind every bow, every movement, every action, there is well-considered thought. Rei translates to "God's wisdom or a higher power" and Ki means "life force energy." Together, "Reiki" uses a Universal Life Force to heal or balance from within.

I revisited this art of healing. Researching local teachers deemed a bit challenging. Friends who were either familiar with or have had experienced Reiki had no firm recommendations. I googled some in Milwaukee and found since many treatments are done within the homes of practitioners, I was less inclined to select a male instructor and attend alone. Others seemed to have a focus on certain elements with which I may or may not have been comfortable. I looked to the Chicago area and found one who seemed not only credible -- certified in Reiki-ssage, Reconnective Healing and Pre-Cognitive Education (among others) -- but also fit my criteria with regard to years of training, different focuses and personal experience.

I contacted Patricia Heenan from Evanston and scheduled an appointment. A petite lady in her 60s opened the door. Her warm disposition made me feel welcome straightaway. We spoke for a good 45 minutes about her background, and how she first got into this line of study. Patricia shared that her son has suffered from Tourette Syndrome since he was five. He is now 38. Patricia needed to get through to him somehow, in addition to the efforts of music therapy. For a hyperactive child, now adult, he is able to lie still and receive treatment for over an hour -- a thought that was once impossible. "It turned out that he became my best client. He's like a baby receiving my energy. And it became clear that I was the only one who could help him. We have a true bond." Patricia continued, "If I can help him, I can help anybody."

She is an intuitive too. She sat across from me and began to feel my energy, an "intuitive check." She explained that the body is made of seven energy centers or chakras. Starting at the top of her head, Patricia touched her crown and held one palm facing me. She then moved to her brow and touched her throat, the sixth and fifth chakra and again held her other palm out to face me. She continued down to the other chakras (heart, solar plexus, sacral and root). She relayed everything looked relatively open, meaning no major blockages that would prevent energy flow. She also explained areas like the power center or solar plexus is typically from where men operate -- the gut. The lower chakra area, including sacral and root are typically weaker or blocked among women.

When we continued in our exchange of life tales, she mentioned she was an empath. I was not quite certain sure what this meant, until she heard my story and began saying a meditative prayer for me. I began to cry. So did she. An empath can sense the truth, not a facade simply projected for show. This compassion aids in breaking down walls and manifesting true emotion. She was a soul present without judgment, but feeling what was flowing through me. And I began to release.

After our discussion, we moved to the reiki table. I lay face down, fully clothed and she began meditation while providing a "reiki-ssage." She explained that Reiki works with the chakra system, versus a method like acupuncture which works with the meridian system. It seems the meridian system is more physiologically based on bloodflow and nerve points determined on the skin. This treatment is a powerful combination of Reiki energy work and therapeutic touch, and it is certified under reiki versus massage therapy. As Patricia maneuvered around my body, she commented on a tremendous source of inner strength, but found emotional blockage. She continued meditative prayer and cried throughout the course of the session.

When we were through, we talked a bit more of her incredibly interesting experiences and other gifts, the difference between karma (actions of mind and body) and dharma (a universal norm to live by, which is determined by one's cumulative karma) and finding closure from our session. She did recommend not to talk afterwards...to remain in this space and let the energy balance, which can work within for up to 36 hours.

It was perfect timing. The latter half of my efforts in re-centering was going away on holiday for the remainder of the week. I left my phone behind to disconnect and re-connect with those most important -- my husband, family and friends. And that portion, an annual special holiday, remains personal. ;)

To find more information on Patricia Heenan, please visit her site www.spiritualrelease.com.

6 July - Storming the Bastille

Sometimes the best thing for me to do is to walk into a situation blind. Cold turkey. Depending on the situation, of course. The annual run of Storming the Bastille was one of those situations. It is a 5K (3.1 mile) run that marks the opening of my favorite Milwaukee festival, Bastille Days. It is a manageable walk around Cathedral Square, with live music, interesting characters and a 43-foot Eiffel Tower. Give me my "Chicken Kebab Sandwich" from Aladdin and "Mosaic Crepe" from Cream and Crepe, and I'm good to go.

And for as many years I had been enjoying this soiree, I never participated in the run. No desire. I almost did last year. I was packed and ready to go...until I joined my friends for a beverage at Umami Moto's opening. As most of them left for the starting line, my friend Amy and I, engrossed in great conversation found it necessary to head to Cubanitas for my favorite Cuban sandwich and a Caipirinha. And it was necessary.

So, I figured this year was the year. I do not run like I used to, so I had not "trained." I even had to ask my girlfriend what people wear running -- the last pair of athletic shorts I purchased was over 10 years ago. So I at least updated the wardrobe in that arena with an athletic tank and skort. I walked up to my friends who were perched in a prime spot outside of Singha Thai. Dishes galore, tempting me with Pad Thai and Basil Fried Rice. They were laughing, teasing me in my nonchalance, snapping photos while watching these serious runners do their calisthenics. "Joy, shouldn't you at least be stretching out?" The two who initially encouraged me, Yvette and John, had already done their light five to 10 minute jog to warm up. Uh...for real? Is that what I am supposed to do?

There was a team stretch by a group called the "Pink Panthers." I asked friends for some quick tips, as runners were approaching the starting line. I heard things like, "be sure to inhale deeply and exhale it all, otherwise you may cramp" or, "last year, I thought I was almost done with the race, then realized I wasn't even close." Or "the incline on the last stretch was brutal." So going into this run, I made mental note to manage my own expectations. I tried looking at the map and asked myself "Why bother?," as I am a poor judge in distance and am pretty certain the last time I ran a mile was in high school gym class.

As the host started counting down to start time, my hands began to sweat. I looked back at my friends having a cultural feast and giggling at my expense, raising their glasses. I finally realized with four minutes to go, that I had an "on-the-go" option on my iphone, which allowed me to create an updated playlist. Yes. Yvette said the run is only 14 songs long. 14?! I plugged in 20 and looked up to the sky for a last call for help.

So started the timer. And the run. I pressed play and listened to my own inhale and exhale to "1, 2 Step." Bodies jumping, adjusting and readjusting for an open space; other bodies trying to set their pace. I checked to see if Yvette and John were still to my left. Song two: "I'm Good, I'm Gone." We traversed up a hill by the lake. There is something magical in traveling as a group of strangers with the added element of nighttime. Everyone was in a great mood. And some were quite serious, beginning to concentrate harder than before.

I actually felt peaceful while being comfortably aware of being unaware of where the path will lead. Dee-Lite's "Smile On" passed the time nicely as I looked around to see people giggling and talking...something I simply cannot fathom while running. It not only adds to the physical exhaustion, but tests my mental fortitude. Nice change in attitude as "Lips Like Sugar" chimed into my personal stereo. As the fleeting chagrin of "I thought I was almost done" dawned on me, I could tell we were more than halfway there. I see the people on the side cheering...young families, empty nesters, friends out at The Wicked Hop raising their mugs and Bat Man standing on Broadway... That was a welcome sight. Bat Man. Mask and all.

I am thoroughly enjoying this camaraderie until I realize my left ear bud stopped working at "Mayor of Simpleton." Shucks. The mental support started to hinge and sway. I kept telling myself that if I stopped, then I would be done for the rest of the run, so I at least kept the trot. The crowd continued to pull and lead. I still have no idea when this will end. Then came that dreaded final incline to the finish line. I kept the pace and looked up at the clock. I saw the number 28:29.

28 minute 5k. Again, sometimes the only way to prepare is to not, and just go with the flow. Check in with me next year, though. Now that I know what to expect, you might find me back at Cubanitas for some Ropa Vieja.