Good Cookie Gone Bad.

Of all people, I should know better when it comes to the art of cooking. Operative word: should. For the people who know me best, namely- my family and good friends, they know better to use that language around me. I despise the word 'should', and yet I am using it on myself. Aghhhh... So here's the story of the- Jean should know better...

This weekend, I had the opportunity to leave Nyc for the Hampton's to relax and help out some friends do some minor work. While I had no part in grocery shopping and what was to be on the menu for the next couple of days, I had volunteered myself to do the cooking. Actually, forced my way into that position because the kitchen was of nice size and I knew no one would question what I was doing or making. (my Manhattan apt does not afford me to make elaborate dishes with multiple pans going on at once without haggling for space.) I was in a happy space, Zen- if you will.

Every meal went off without a hitch except the one night we decided that dessert was needed. My sister's bf asked me to make one of my cakes- every cook has a couple of recipes in their head for these occasions... Being that the pantry wasn't fully stocked as the summer season hadn't started, we used what was available to us but, the only baking supply available was eggs and butter- I had no choice, I had to use the Nestle Toll House Chocolate Chip cookie dough. I'm not one to poopooh prepackage stuff, they do have a time and place for its use however, since I have not used this product I was unsure of its results. Yup- I should have known better. Let me just beat myself right now. I do get very defensive and protective when it comes to my cooking, yes, yes, I know that I need to relax its only food but, its not that often that I fuck something up.

Here it is. Evidence that Jean needn't be messing around with pre-made cookie dough. LOL. Its simple really: break off square pieces and bake @ 350 degrees for 12mins. Nope. No such luck for moist chocolate chip cookies, we got burnt hockey pucks, they didn't even break out of their square shape into a nice burnt circles- see photo. Next time, I'll be sure to partake in the grocery shopping so that we at least have the essential pantry stock. Also, be sure to check the 'use by date' on packages, it helps.

Olive oil goodness

One of the coolest part of my job besides tasting wine all the time is having all sort of samples practically thrown at me. Part of my research for a project is to find amazing products in which you would probably not find anywhere in The City.

Olive oil. Hot commodity. Just like wine, it is highly volatile; sensitive to heat and most of the time people don't tell you the whole truth as to where it comes from and what its comprised of. My entanglement with the Italians grow deeper as I learn more each day.

Since I have a plethora of olive oil in my home, I decided to see how many ways to use this product in the best application. I've got home made olive oil from Calabria, fancy pants cold first press -extra virgin, Spanish olive oil and to throw in the mix your average Trader Joe's -from Greece.

Being a practical woman in this so-called recession, I decided to use the olive oil as part of my beauty regimen. Deep conditioner for my thick curly sometimes unruly mane. Heat olive oil + a squeeze of lemon juice for 30 seconds in microwave, massage into scalp, cover hair with plastic and keep yourself occupied for 30 minutes while your hair soaks the yummy goodness and allow the oil to work its magic. Let me tell you, I had to wash my hair 3x to get the greasiness out. My hair did feel silky soft and I didn't mind too much the faint smell of lemony olive oil. However, the next day I looked like a grease monkey- the funky monkey. Whoa. It was living in the 80's with super mouse in my hair. This treatment is best for the weekend staying home watching movies with someone who doesn't mind a funky monkey.

Research shows that olive oil does wonders for the skin. I have to agree. Rub it on your cuticles, your rough winter feet. Bingo! You're good as new. Olive oil has natural properties that act as an antiseptic and moisturizer. Gently rub the expensive stuff on your face before going to bed. Believe me or not, I have an amazing glow every morning. Thus far, it hasn't clogged my pores. There must be something to it, just look at those beautiful Mediterranean women-their gorgeous hair and skin. Always smiling. Damn, this must be the secret to happiness.

Finally, lets talk about cooking. I decided to make a Blood orange-olive oil cake. Doesn't sound too appealing right?! Let me tell you, this cake I made the other day, fantastico! It's a bit tricky because when you make the batter, it seems too oily, trust me, that's the way it looks, don't be alarmed thinking you measured out something wrong- follow the recipe and if you're not happy with the results you can always doctor it. (*Be sure to use your best olive oil when baking, you can save the Trader Joe stuff for sauteing or marinating items.) 50minutes later you get this beautiful moist cake with a light greenish hue when you cut into it. (the pic doesn't do it justice, I'm still learning to take food shots) mmmm. The essence of the olive oil is ever so captured and the citrus fruits balances the oil factor perfectly. Enjoy it alone, with jam, a fruit compote, please, please don't drown it with ice cream. It would be lost in translation.

Santos needs a Stimulus Plan 2009

I haven't written lately due to the fact that the past week I was sick with this nagging cold and also, I've been working diligently on my project. As some of you may know I left the restaurant business in pursuit of becoming an entrepreneur. However, I haven't left the business of food and wine completely, my project deals with food and wine, this time to my specifications and ideals.

There comes a time in a person's life when you've just got to give it a go and follow your dream, your bliss. My life, by breath, my passion has been entangled in the simplest thing that a human being needs to sustain life. It's simple and yet complicated. I have dedicated my life with the desire of helping other people understand that there is an art to living: eating for pleasure first.

Culinary school does not teach all it's future chef's this, it only provides the technical skill needed to show what mother nature has given us on our abundant fertile lands. Attending sommelier classes does not teach you what kind of love it requires in making that beautiful glass of Merlot you are sipping tonight. It merely suggest what nuances to detect in each type of grape varietal. And so my point is, it doesn't matter if you hold the highest degree in the land in your professional field. If you have not the passion to live and work happily, then you're in the wrong place.

For me, it happens to be a bit of a slow going snail for my project to come to fruition. First of all, this economy sucks, some of my backers somehow backed out in becoming my partner (a bit understandable, nonetheless it sucks.)

I believe that this is the perfect time to open a business. Food and drugs (the kind from CVS people) are the two things that will always be in need.

So, my dear friends, I am reaching out to those who believe in my passion- my training- my skills- my experience- my never ending quest for perfection and profitability- and perhaps you may want to share in this venture or know of someone.

I have been humbled by this experience in learning what it truly takes in planning my project. Its simple really. It will be an intimate place for friends to gather, have great bites, wonderful drinks and a place to soothe the soul. I've even picked out the perfect spot.

I just need a little assistance. Peace and love.

Random

10a.m.-->This morning on my way to get the paper at my local bodega I caught a glimps of my reflection off a store window. "Wow, you look good in those jeans, Jean." Thanks dude. Mind you, I haven't felt very bootylicious about myself in recent months, this was a nice small victory. While paying for The Post and M&M peanuts, a skinny jeans-blond-huge sunglasses-20something compliments me and my Levis. mmm... Cool, I think. I find it more flattering when a women pays you a compliment because they don't come for free. We can be really catty, judgemental and envious of each other fashion choices, most especially in New York city.

12:30p.m.--> Having moved up to the UES two years ago, I still refuse to look and research for the best cobbler, tailor or nail salon around my apt. Instead, I always find myself in my old SoHo neighborhood to get those errands done. Being a bit lazy to go downtown today, I asked a trusty friend where he takes his shoes for repair, his guy so happens to be a few blocks from where I live. There's this old man, working with his leathery, black stained, worn out but tender hands. I ask him to fix my shoe, thinking all it needed was some glue, he turns to me and says in his Italglish "they don't make shoes like they used to, I can't help you." What? Wait a minute, I paid good money for these Jil Sanders and turning it over to show him, "look it says made in Italy." haha. Jokes on me. He tells me that it's good leather on "paper" but, nowadays they cheat. Boooo. I can't bare to part with them, i've only worn them a few times.

3:00p.m. --> Spring is here, almost. Crazy fashion on the streets, already.
Sweater with flip flops? Ok. If you're going to wear flip flops, make sure the rest of the outfit matches. It was 60 degrees today and the denizens of Nyc were going wild, unsure of how to clothe themselves. You can't walk out your apt. dressed in shorts and a leather jacket??? WHa... People, I know its confusing. March does not usually =60 degrees. Two words: Global Warming. Get used to it. Too bad I didn't have a camera on me. Don't be a fashion victim.

7:30p.m.--> Random thought popped in my head of a conversation with a friend a few months ago about women and relationships. "Women are like fruit baskets, you get to decided who picks your fruit. You are in control." Wait a minute, have you been talking to my mom? This was her birds and the bee's sex talk. On relationships: "Being in a realtionship is a two way street." No shit Sherlock. I give all I can but, I better have a great ROI.

9:00p.m.--> Barnes and Noble. Little boy to mother- " I don't want a book, can't I get a toy? I promise I'll be good. How about a train with tracks?" No, dear that sounds more expensive. Let me think about it.
Talk about the start of a great young mind, who knows maybe he'll turn out to be a great engineer...

11:00p.m.--> What should I have for dinner? Cupcake or a slice? I think you know who won that discussion.

Under Promise, Over Deliver

Under promise, over deliver.
My newest favorite saying as told to me by a very successful business man on the concept/theme of his business model. I like to think that this tag line relates to everything in life. However, I like the: over promise, over deliver. In most cases this is where you get into trouble, because in the end you have to back your shi* up.

Case in point. My father's 67th birthday party. He was so excited I was going to cook dinner for his close friends in where he can showcase his daughter's cooking skills. (you know how parents get...) So I accepted the challenge and told mom and dad I didn't want any Filipino food on the table and thus created a international -mostly seafood menu. (*white rice was available, didn't want to shock the elders too much.)

Paella- clams, shrimp, chicken, chorizo, peas and saffron.



1. When planning a dinner party for 30 people, make sure that your menu isn't too ambitious for the kitchen you're working with. I learned this the hard way. Nope, my parents don't have a Wolf Range, convection oven or a hood system for that matter. Searing meats in the house totally smoked us all out. LOL. I didn't have a personal dishwasher for all the pots and pans I was going through. And worse off, I had to cook on an electric stove top; yes, I am working on changing it to gas.

2. Enlist the help of everyone who is capable of using a knife without scaring you. Thankfully, my family are wonderful cooks and my personal prep-cooks when I'm in charge. :)

3. Remind yourself that you aren't a chef in a restaurant and therefore can't yell at them when you ask for brunoise carrots and get small dice instead or do something that isn't perfect. (I laugh at my crazy self.)

4. When you see yourself getting into the "shits" (kitchen talk) call a buddy who happens to be a fellow chef. Whew! Thank God. Back up arrived before I lost my mind. Below, Jayme and I plating dinner or perhaps, giggling at the fact of how crazy I am for thinking I could cook all these dishes solo or maybe just stuffing our faces with roast beef tid bits. yum!

5. Breathe and enjoy. The whole point of cooking for your family is because you love it. Dad's smile was so worth it!

My Lesson learned. Plan carefully. Open those blinders - just because you have the skill doesn't mean you can have the same result without the proper equipment.

If you find yourself in Westchester.