A Fish Out of Water; Welcome to the Seafood Buffet at Sea Pines Plantation
Cher Lectours! Dear Readers!
Happy Father’s Day!
So thankful and grateful for all the fathers in my life. A huge shout out to my husband, Rich, who is Dad to our two sons, Erick and Jaryd, and now who has added being Pop-Pop to our two grandkids, Izzy and Ellis.
And of course a honey flavored Happy Father’s Day to our youngest son, Jaryd, who’s above mentioned Izzy and Ellis are full throttle in the pre-school years of four and not quite one.
And warmest carrot flavored kudos to our oldest son, Erick, who is a proud golden doggie daddy to big bear, Zephyr, and a grand-doggie-daddy to little bear, Oso.
Writing Updates
My story, “Who’s Milkin’ This Cow?” will soon be up on Eat, Darling, Eat. Excited to say the story will be available in written form, and tada, narrated by moi as well. I’ll let you know the date soon. Do you find you prefer reading stories or listening to stories?
Another story: “How Did the Bread of Dreams Come To Be?” is up on Women’s Writer’s, Women’s Books It ‘s about a summer adventure in Laramie, Wyoming when i was a cook at Ivinson Memorial Hospital.
I’ve included a story, “A Fish Out of Water,” below.
In the meantime, please click this link for your copy of The Bread of Dreams Cookbook.
And the companion book to Tales of the Mistress, A Novel.
Travel Update
I am so excited to tell you, start packing.
C’est si Bon! is offering adults a very special trip to France!
September 13th - 22nd
“Nestled in the heart of Gascony, your charming vacation home in Poudenas offers a serene retreat with picturesque views, a refreshing pool, and scenic trails to explore. Delight in the region’s culinary treasures as you embark on a journey through the vibrant markets and savor the authentic flavors of Southwestern France.”
Reach out to your trip leaders for more information!
Erick Snover (Executive Chef of C’est si Bon!)
&
Abbie Nichols (C’est si Bon!’s Program Director)
Sign up for Taste the Advenure for Adults in gorgeous Gascony this September.
There will be exquisite markets and indulgences in Gascony's renowned culinary delights, including foie gras, duck confit, and a variety of unctuous cheeses, paired with local wines and Armagnac.
Abbie Nichols, Program Director of C’est si Bon!
Erick Snover, Executive Chef of C’est si Bon!
A Fish Out of Water
Last week I got to spend some time out on the Outer Banks of NC and the slant of the sun, eating red drum, shrimp, all that sand in my crocs and bug bites on my legs reminded me of another beach, another horizon and another salty kitchen.
Back then the resort was called Sea Pines Plantation and was a moderately quiet place in May of 1982 when I arrived in the South beach area of Hilton Head. Magnolias were not yet blooming, but the gardenias were, when I started. Started what? My externship. Eventually I would “arrive” and work the saute station. But my first stop would be working the seafood buffet, where the copious amounts of fried shrimp, catfish, and breaded zucchini, all would be cleaned, battered, and fried by moi for the hoards of hungry customers who either didn’t want or didn’t have time to appreciate the fine dining menu in the Heritage Room of the resort.
But between seafood and saute, I stopped for a time at the garde manger station. Why so many stations? An extern from the Culinary Institute of America cooked, prepped, cleaned, and mise’d, whatever and wherever was needed. And like most students everywhere I was broke. So, after about three seconds in the kitchen I pumped up my courage and asked for a small loan from Charlie, the executive chef, so I could buy food.
“Head on down to the Piggly Wiggly” he said, and stuffed a $5.00 bill in the back pocket of my houndstooth chef pants.
“The Piggly, what?” I did everything I could not to giggly.
Charlie hoisted himself up, and sat on the prep table to continue shelling beans. A lot of beans.
I didn’t know beans but I knew I wasn’t supposed to sit on a prep table.
Before leaving the CIA campus in Hyde Park NY my group had completed D Block’s Vegetable Kitchen where all our “beans” and whatever else came from the cavernous Storeroom in the basement of Roth Hall. Nearby I shopped at Shop-Rite, and Stop and Shop, but never a store named after a pig. Would I find in this new land that grocery stores were named after the main ingredients you could buy there?
Piggly Wiggly? Oh sure, in Pa Dutch country, I’d eaten plenty of ham, and other various German inspired pork dishes, like scrapple and stuffed pig’s stomach. But at the CIA we’d been learning and making CUISINE. Garnishes, accoutrements and French inspired dishes ruled the roost.
Peas Bon Femme and Palette du Porc Avec Sauce Moutarde was what I cooked these days.
But, now I was in the South. Wherever I went - Boston, Laramie, Mesa, NYC, or back to Reading, Pa. I always tried to figure things out as if life was a recipe.
Charlie had popped off the table of bean shelling and was talking to the Sous Chef, on the hot line. I was shocked out of my reverie when he turned to me and cleared his throat. “You do have a car, don’t you?”
I nodded.
“Ok. See you at 10:30 in the morning. Remember, Piggly Wiggly.”
Clearly I was thinking too much. And a fish out of water. I didn’t want to let that show. What kind of pork would I be able to buy with Charlie’s $5.00 at Piggly Wiggly. What was the south’s favorite pork dishes? I berated myself that I didn’t have the common sense to read even one of the many books on Southern Plantation cooking in the Kathryn Angell Library where I worked when I wasn't up to my neck in writing reports on red vegetables and the five mother sauces at the CIA. But I wouldn’t be able to report my way into or out of Sea Pine Plantation’s seafood buffet in the morning. The reality of everything was beginning to hit me.
Charlie bent down and I could see inside his chef hat that he was bald. The view woke me up. “Better make that 10:00 am.”
I turned to go, his $5.00 filling my pocket, but even in 1982, it wouldn’t fill my pot with many lardons or porc. So, in I went to Piggly Wiggly and out I came with a bag of dried lentils and another bag of rice. I was sort of proud, and sort of smug. I was a culinary student and set for the week. Or so I thought. I had a lot to learn. And nervous as hell. The next morning, I threw up right before I cast my worm in an ocean of hot oil.
Yeah, you can imagine how that went.