A Night at The Beach Club

Bird's eye view of Norman's Cay, Exumas, Bahamas

“So many nights I dream of the ocean,
God I wish I was sailing again.
Yesterday’s over my shoulder
and I won’t look back for too long,
there’s just too much to see
waiting in front of me,
and I know that I just can’t go wrong.”
JB

"Hey Doll, how about another one of those tasty concoctions" Mikey asked from across the bar. He was slouched back in his bar stool, guitar resting on his lap as he shook his fingers out. "Man, I need to play more, my fingers are out of shape", he studied them carefully, the grooves from the guitar strings clearly evident. Mikey had just arrived that morning on Yamacraw, his converted fishing trawler, with two weeks worth of supplies for the restaurant and bar on Norman's Cay. The island of Norman's Cay is a 6 mile strip of land situated between the Exuma Sound and the Atlantic Ocean. It is located on the northern end of the Exuma island chain, a long narrow strip that consist of 365 islands running north to south in the central Bahamas. Norman's Cay is shaped like a fish hook, creating a large protected saltwater pond.

The bar at Norman's Cay Beach Club was lively for a Wednesday night, or maybe it was a Thursday, I can never keep my days straight anymore. Stefan, the owner of the establishment, and I were busy refilling drinks behind the bar in between Mikey's and his brother Tommy's sets.

Mikey and Tommy Goodwin expatriated themselves down to the Bahamas years ago. The 70's may have weathered them a bit, but in their faces showed lines of smiles and their hearty laughs could fill up a room. They both looked like characters you would find in a rough and tumble bar in Key West, the type that probably drove a Harley and stayed up regularly until 4am. They both had weathered faces, Mikey's was leathered and tanned from countless years on the water in the sun-baked Bahamas. You could always count on finding him lounging on the deck of Yamacraw, sporting faded Speedos and a oversized gold chain, cigarette in one hand, a rum and coke in the other. He would wave you over and invite you aboard, as he wove tales of his crazy and often unbelieveable experiences in the Bahamas.

Mikey aboard his converted trawler, Yamacraw

No one is really sure how he got into this gig, but we were all glad he was doing it, a true modern day pirate. Every week he would make his rounds, loading up his boat in Nassau and chugging it the 35 miles across the Yellow Bank to make his scheduled stops Highborne Cay, Norman's Cay and several other small settlements along the way as needed. He was the most cost effective supply boat in the area, the other option being to fly cargo in on a small 5 seater chartered prop plane. Mikey always stuck around for a few days to bless us with some musical entertainment, a rare luxury in this little corner of the world. This time he brought his brother Tommy with him. Tommy used to play with Eric Clapton and it showed. His blues guitar was fluid and flawless. His fingers moved along the neck of his guitar as if they were one unit. His voice was thick and powerful. They rattled out some classics by the Stones, Eagles, Zeppelin, Neil Young, Cat Stevens. After each song, they were encored into another. We shouted out requests. Eventually the mood changed, and Mikey switched into a less serious mode, a traditional Bahamian song.

We drank all the rum
We smoke all de dope
All that was left was a little piece of roach
Ny ny ny….ny ny ny….ny ny ny
Ny ny ny….ny ny ny…nylon rope!

Stefan laugh was the most defining sound in the room, a smoke-rasped cackle that was contagious. His whole body heaved up and down as he laughed. We sat leaning against the back wall of the bar as Mikey strummed across from us. I sipped my Kalik beer and looked across the room at my husband, Dave. He was in deep conversation with another boater, a young man on the forefront of a trip around the world on his 42 ft ketch. He looked up and caught my eye, giving me that grin as if to say, Im rather enjoying myself at this moment.

The evening wore on, drinks were poured, songs were sung. At one point the entire bar struck up with Bye Bye Miss American Pie. Luckily someone in the crowd knew the lyrics well enough to cue us at the start of each verse. There was no noise ordinance, Im sure if anyone within hearing distance was listening, they would have joined us by now. The entire anchorage had their dinghy's ashore and were keeping company with each other this evening. Norman's Cay seemed to be the hub of the northern Exumas. Nothing on the island except an aged airstrip, a few houses on the north end and this bar and restaurant with a couple of villas, known as the Norman's Cay Beach Club, or MacDuffs. Word of mouth had passed through the boating community that there was cold beer on an otherwise deserted island. The establishment had been around for 15 years, loved by several owners, and they had a reputation. There was never a slow night, every day was a weekend.

The great thing about working at a bar where the only clientele is boaters or pilots, and being a boater myself, I always had something to talk to the customers about. I found that people would come in for happy hour and stay for a week. In our case it turned out to be more like 6 months. This evening as I looked around the bar, I could tell you everyone's story, as I had introduced myself to each of them at one point or another. Mikey we knew well. He was in every other week and usually stayed for a few days. His crew this time consisted of a friend from his past life in Chicago, his wife and his brother. There was a young couple from Boston, trying to make their way as far south as they could before hurricane season. A salty but distinguished looking sailor off of a beautiful catamaran, with a lovely younger woman sat at one quiet corner of the bar, immersed in conversation. There were three boisterous, well-to-do retired men and their wives on a large power yacht, down for a few days from Miami. Two Bahamians over from Nassau who were working on a housing project on the north end of the island came down to get off the jobsite for a bit. Everyone was scattered around the bar in their own separate conversations, but the evening had the feel of a group of people who might have known each other for years. That's how things were at The Beach Club.

As the guests slowly trickled out and Mikey's voice wore thin, we moved to the other side of the bar, pulling up a stool to finish the last remaning sips of our beer. The soft lantern lights above the bar began to sway gently in the breeze. We could smell the rain approaching. The sky rumbled overhead and the breeze cooled the stuffy bar through the screens that surrounded the mostly open-air building. The palms rustled outside. It started with a few drops...'Oh I hope we closed our hatches,' all of us boaters simutanelously fretted. Then the sky let loose as huge raindrops fell in torrents. They fell sideways, through the screens into the bar. The wind picked up and blew the blinds, whapping them on the wall. We scooted the cushioned seats away from the windows and cozied back up to the bar. Maybe just one more drink.

Pegasus at her peaceful anchorage at Norman's Cay

By the time the rain let up, it was late. Mikey, Tommy and his crew left to trek across the airstrip and down the road back to the Yamacraw which was tied up to the dock on the East end of the island. Stefan walked us part of the way down to the beach, saying his goodnight farewells as he left us at his villa. The air had cooled to a comfortable temperature, the breeze still rustled the sea grapes and the tall palms around the grounds, but the Exuma Sound was as calm as it ever was. The sky was dark, the only lights were from the villas shining across the water and the mast lights that dotted the anchorage. Pegasus was out there somewhere, I could pick out her flouresent anchor light hanging low from the boom. We never did get our mast light to work, causing us some stressful nights on occasion, wondering if large boats in high traffic areas would notice us. But here at Norman's Cay, there was no need to worry about night traffic. The dogs sniffed on the beach for a few minutes, methodically checking for anything out of place since the last time they had been there. Satisfied that things were in order, they hopped obediently into the dinghy. We pushed Two Buck Chuck into the water, it slid peacefully. I looked down to see phosperescence sparkling in the clear water below. Although it was black as night, you could still see the white sand five feet below the surface. Dave fired up the motor and we whizzed out into the quiet night. The phosperous made a shimmering line behind the dinghy. As we arrived at the boat, the quiet was more defined, except the low hum of the generator on shore that supplied all of the power to the villas and restaurant. The four of us scrambled on board. We secured the dinghy and climbed the squeeky stairs down below. We had closed the hatches and portlights, luckily, so we were spared a damp bed. But the interior smelled warm and musty. I opened the large hatches above and the light breeze scooped down into the cabin. I crawled into my bunk and cuddled in next to my husband as the dogs curled into their usual place at my feet. As I drifted off into a drousy slumber, I couldnt help but look forward to tomorrow, what kinds of characters I would meet and if it would be sunny or rainy, I was impartial. I was in one of the most beautiful places on earth. Just as I was about to doze off, Dave softly whispered into my ear..."It's good to be home."

Floridays

Jimmy Buffett and friends in Key West, back in the day

Have I mentioned yet how much I love Florida? I love waking up in the morning to the cool, soft air. Stepping outside and feeling the humidity not at an obtrusive state, but comforting and enveloping. The birds are alive and active, not yet feeling the drowsy heat of the day.

This weekend, I finally felt like I was in the Real Florida. And Real Florida is something different to everyone. To me, it has kind of a Key West, rough edge to it. Florida isn't glitz and glamor, high rises, shopping and beach resorts (although that's all here). Whenever I pictured Aunt Kim and Aunt Stace living in Florida, before I ever really came here, I pictured honky tonk bars, pool tables, Bud Light, Jimmy Buffett looking guys with mustaches, sporting jeans with flip flops and old faded t-shirts and a cowboy hat. I pictured redneck fishermen heading out on the Gulf at the wee hours of the morning, with beer and cigarettes and muscle t's. I pictured mosquitoes, and cockroaches and gators in the ditches. And I really wasn't too far off.

Since the week of Easter is traditionally a madhouse down in Southwest Florida, we decided to escape the crowds. Everyone, it seemed, was out in full force, shopping, touristing, beaching, etc. I assume it's Spring Break for the majority of the country, and they seem to be all Spring Breaking here. We headed East on Highway 41 into the Everglades, searching for adventure.

We drove about 30 miles east of Naples, into Everglades National Park. It was incredible how civilization dropped off. It went from a four lane, highly trafficked metropolis to stretches as far as you could see of marsh grass, mangroves, spindly palms and pine trees. We arrived at Wooten's Airboat Tours and checked in with Captn Billy Ray. Since the Muirheads are repeat customers, we got free tickets to tour the gator zoo. We wandered upon cages and pens of gators of all sizes. They had key deer and raccoons and even two panthers. Panthers are elusive and endangered down here in Florida. Your chances of seeing them in the wild are slim to none, and here they were, in cages right in front of us. It was sad to see these beautiful animals in captivity, but since their numbers are so small I supposed it good to have a few on reserve just in case.

Round and rugged, Captn Bobby took us out in the marshes. He had a camo mesh hat, gator stomping boots and Costa sunglasses. Those airboats are crazy contraptions. They draw nothing, and are propelled by large fans on the back, therefore they can scoot right over grass, mud and just inches of water. The deepest water we were in was about 1 ft.

After our airboat ride, we had worked up quite a thirst. So we drove about 20 minutes to the small town of Goodland. Goodland is frequented by snowbirds in the winter, but it's like no other part of Southwest Florida. Its water based community and backwoods feel make it a favorite for bikers and ex-hippies. We happened to stumble upon a Sunday afternoon ritual. Starting at around noon, Stan's Idle Hour Restaurant sets up tents and picnic tables to prepare for the crowds. We arrived around 3pm and the place was jumpin'. A live band played on the stage that backed up to the back bay. People of all ages were dressed up with funky hats and sunglasses, dancing to the live music with beers in their hands. It seemed that friends of Stan's took turns playing their favorite songs on stage, kind of an open mic. A guy who had to have been in his 70's with white hair, a straw cowboy hat and a Hawaiian shirt got up and sang..."My girlfriend's got a beeper and I've got Viagra."

There were cruisers sporting Crocs, fishermen with tournament t-shirts, golfers and country club goers with Polo's and trendy teenagers. After the crowd started to dwindle, we moved on to the Old Marco Lodge for a bite to eat. There are three eating establishments in Goodland, and apparently everyone was done eating and drinking for the day because we had the place to ourselves. Another band was playing on deck and we had the best view in the house, right on the edge of the deck, overhanging the water with endless views of the back bay and mangroves. Dave got a crabcake sandwich, Mike and I got the grouper sandwich and Karen got a lobster tail. Nothing better than a fish sandwich. Mmmmm. Apparently they had Red Hook on draft but I couldnt get a straight answer out of the waitress where it was actually from. It seemed odd to find Woodinville's Red Hook on draft out in the backwoods of Florida, when we can't even find it at the grocery store down here.

Since I havent posted a recipe in a while, you are more than due. I haven't really been cooking with my schedule the way it is! But I have done this one before. It's rather time consuming, but it is SO worth it because it turns out restaurant style goodness, rich and delicious. The secret is the roux. In a lot of recipes, the roux is light colored and a mix of flour with butter or oil. In good gumbo, the roux is traditionally cooked until it is deep brown, making a lovely rich and nutty flavor. You must NEVER leave your roux unattended and it must be stirred constantly. This recipe is from Nordstrom's Entertaining at Home Cookbook. This recipe serves 10-12 people, so chop it down if you aren't feeding a crowd.

New Orleans Seafood Gumbo

Recipe from Nordstrom's Entertaining at Home

Serves 10-12

1 1/2 cups canola oil

3 cups all purpose flour

3 tbsp olive oil

2 red bell peppers, seeded, deribbed and chopped

2 green bell peppers, seeded, deribbed and chopped

3 yellow onions, chopped

4 celery stalks, chopped

1 cup dry white wine

2 cans (49 oz each) chicken broth

4 cups fish stock or bottled clam juice

1 lb andouille sausage, cut into 1/4 in slices

2 tbsp Cajun seasoning

1 tsp ground black pepper

1/8 tsp cayenne pepper

1 tsp chili powder

1 tsp dried thyme

1 tbsp minced garlic

2 bay leaves

2 tbsp salt

2 tbsp Tabasco

1 lb shrimp, peeled and deveined

1 lb fresh cooked crab meat

2 1/2-3 cups steamed white rice

In a heavy 4 quart saucepan over low heat, warm the canola oil. Gradually add the flour while stirring constantly to create a smooth mixture. Continue to cook the roux, stirring constantly, until it is a rich brown, 1 to 1 1/4 hours. (turn up heat to med-low if needed). Set aside to cool to room temperature.

In a heavy 6 to 8 quart saucepan over medium heat, warm the olive oil and swirl to coat the bottom of the pan. Add the red and green bell peppers, onions, and celery, and cook, stirring frequently until the vegetables are softened, about 10 minutes. Add the wine and cook until the wine is nearly evaporated, about 4 minutes. Add the chicken broth and fish stock, bring to a simmer and cook, stirring occasionally for 10 minutes. Add the sausage, Cajun seasoning, black pepper, cayenne pepper, chili powder, thyme, garlic, bay leaves and salt and cook, stirring occasionally for 30 minutes to allow the flavors to meld. Add the cooled roux by spoonfuls to the soup, whisking vigorously to prevent any lumps from forming. Cook until the soup thickens, about 5 minutes.

Remove the bay leaves and discard them. Stir in the Tabasco sauce. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Add the shrimp and simmer just until cooked through, 3 to 6 minutes, depending on their size. Add the crabmeat and stir to combine and heat through.

Ladle the gumbo into soup bowls and place 1/4 cup of the rice in the center of each serving. Serve immediately.

Red Wine and Steak

If you are looking for a Cabernet Sauvignon to pair with your steak meal, look no further than Turn 4 by Bennett Lane. Bennett Lane is most known for their $99 Cabs, but they have been able to produce an outstanding Cabernet for around $20. The 2007 is ready to drink now, just open it a few hours before your meal and let it breathe. Its rich dark fruits, balanced tannins and boisterousness make it a perfect pairing with red meat. Last night Karen and Dave cooked thick strip steaks with sauteed onion and mushrooms, baked potato with the works, steamed broccoli and a summer salad of fresh cherry tomatoes, basil from the garden and fresh mozzarella. Karen has asked me to get four more bottles of the Turn 4 from the shop because she loved it so much.

This Napa Valley Cabernet is blended with 4% Petit Verdot and 4% Malbec, giving it a beautiful complexity. It was aged in French Oak for 18 months and only 8,800 cases were produced.

Tasting Notes from the Winemaker

"This Napa Valley Cabernet opens with intense aromas of black fruit, bright cherry and minerals. Background notes of cedar, sage and violets add to the complexity of the wine. On the palate the wine has good weight, with flavors of dark cherry, cocoa, and plums. The tannins are velvety and approachable, leading to a long elegant, fruit driven finish."

A Toast to St. Patrick

Since I really had no idea who St. Patrick was or why we have a beer-drinking, corned beef-eating, green ensemble-wearing holiday such as we do, I though I would do a little research on the guy. He must have been important, right?

We all know that St. Patrick is the patron saint of Ireland. St. Patrick’s Day started as purely a Christian observance holiday, then was developed into a feast holiday, and today is celebrated by Irish descendants world-wide.

I was surprised to find that St Patrick wasn't Irish at all. St. Patrick was born into a Roman-British family in the early 400's AD with the birth name, Maewyn. He was given his Christian name of Patrick when he entered the priesthood later in life. He was captured by Irish raiders and taken into slavery at the age of 16. After six years he was able to escape and he fled to France where he joined the Church and studied to be a priest. I suppose if one was held captive by the Irish for six years, one wouldn’t be too eager to return - however in 432 AD Patrick returned to Ireland as a bishop and spent 30 years teaching God's word. During that time, St. Patrick was successful in converting a large number of Irish citizens to Christianity. The Irish were certainly thankful for Patrick’s forgiveness of their sins; in return they dubbed him a saint and declared March 17th an official holiday in remembrance.

Originally St. Patrick was associated with the color blue, however over the years the transition has been to green, mainly due to the shamrock. The wearing of the shamrock is a Christian tradition. It is said that St. Patrick used the shamrock as a teaching example to explain the Holy Trinity - the father, son and Holy Spirit. Today, whether Irish or not, green is a customary color worn, along with shamrock pins, beaded necklaces, painted faces and Leprechaun hats. It's like NFL fans all rooting for the same team.

Starting in the 1600's, March 17th became a day that Irish Christians could take a break from fasting during the 40 days of lent. They were allowed one day to feast and drink alcohol. Over the centuries, St Paddy observers took the allowance of food and drink to another level, and the day has evolved to include parades, pub events and outrageous green attire. In 1931 the first St. Patrick's Day parade was held in Dublin. Today New York City hosts one of the largest St. Patrick's Day parades in the world. Chicago even goes so far to dye the Chicago River green. The premise of St Patrick's Day has become: if you are Irish, show your pride...if you aren't, join in the fun anyways.

Green Beer and Irish Stout

Green beer is a popular drink on St. Patrick's Day, a way to truly show your spirit. I'm not sure what I think of green beer, it just doesn't look right. Many bars and pubs offer a special green beer on their menu during the week of St. Patrick’s Day. Often just a drop or two of food coloring in a light colored lager is all they do to market a St. Paddy worthy beverage. Beware of green teeth if you have one too many!

A good Irish stout is another widely consumed beverage on March 17th. Dublin-brewed Guinness is by far the most popular and well known choice. Guinness is a “dry Irish stout,” but other types of stouts to sample include imperial stouts, sweet milk stouts, oatmeal stouts and a close cousin to the stout, the porter. British brewed Young's makes an amazing Double Chocolate Stout that you can usually find at higher end supermarkets like Haggen, Top Foods and Whole Foods. Also British brewers, Samuel Smith makes an Oatmeal Stout, an Extra Stout - which is a dry style stout, a 7% abv Imperial Stout and a Taddy Porter.

If you want to really get festive, ask your friendly bartender to whip up an Irish Car Bomb. Half a pint of Guinness and a shot of Bailey’s Irish Cream mixed with Jamison Irish Whisky. Simply drop the shot in the pint glass and chug. They are dangerously delicious, so make sure to pace yourself!

Boats and Birthdays

Oh, how Pegasus longs to be back in the water. Our trip up to the boatyard in the middle of the state proved to be a long, tiresome day. But a good day. There is something about working hard and smiling the whole way though. I love the boat yard. A huge open space filled with sea craft, constrained to land. Their owners toiling with sweat, dirt, occasional frustration and pride. Friendly people, walking over to get a closer look at your tireless work, mulling it over with you. You take a break and discuss where you have been, the work you are doing, what your future plans are for her. Some are getting ready to go cruising, others just returning from their voyages. Everyone has that glint in their eye. That lost look of remembrance of being on the water. The peaceful anchorages, exhilarating sails, terrifying storms. It is all there, contained in a small boatyard in the farmlands of Florida, unsuspecting.

We went yesterday with the intent of removing the paint on the boot stripe; the stripe at the waterline, and the one just under the toe rail, and then repainting. We did not imagine it would take us all day to just remove the paint. Since we are hoping to get her back in the water by this weekend, we are looking at another 4 hours in the car to get there and back and a full day of work to get the stripe painted. Pegasus has seen better, glorious days. Her hull and cockpit are filthy, the interior is mildewy and a complete disaster with gear strewn about. The screws holding in the portlights have deteriorated and water leakage is an issue, staining our beautiful mahogany interior. All of the work I did on the exterior teak needs to be addressed. The varnish is peeling and gray wood shows through. Our cockpit table that Jake Miller made us back in Charleston broke, either by careless workers or a harsh windstorm. It saddens us to see her in such disrepair. Not even a year ago, she was beautifully kept, lived in and loved. Just 8 months in storage and she is a fright. It is a wonderful feeling, however to restore a boat. I just can't describe it. When someone comes aboard for the first time and like a proud parent, you show them the this and that of your hard work.

Today is Grandma Norma's birthday. I truly feel as though I am in Southwest Florida when the parties I attend to involve Norma, Janet & Carl, Neighbor Bob and Gram's friends Fred and Ethel (no joke, their names really are Fred and Ethel!). We really need to find friends our age, or at least within 15 years of our age. Southwest Florida is known for the snowbird population, just to fill you in. The average age in Naples is 65, and that's average, that means on the high end is 80 and the low end is 50. That also means we are a minority by 20 years! No disrespect to Gram, I enjoy her company immensely, we just feel very young.

Anyways, we are looking forward to celebrating Gram's 85th birthday this evening. She has chosen to go out to dinner and then back to her place for cake and ice cream. I made her a French Chocolate Cake, as per her request for a chocolate cake. If you don't have superfine sugar, you can use regular sugar, just make sure it dissolves completely, otherwise it will have a crunchy texture. I got this recipe out of a wonderful French cookbook that I got at the flea market for $5. It's called "French, Delicious Classic Cuisine Made Easy."

French Chocolate Cake

Serves 10-12

1/4 cup superfine sugar, plus some for sprinkling

10 oz semi sweet chocolate, chopped - I used Ghiradelli semi sweet baking chocolate

3/4 cup unsalted butter, cut into pieces

2 tsp vanilla extract

5 eggs, separated

1/4 cup flour, sifted

pinch of salt

confectioner's sugar, for dusting

Preheat oven to 325 F. Generously butter a 9 1/2 inch springform pan, then sprinkle the pan with a little sugar and tap out the excess.

Set aside 3 tbsp of the 3/2 cup of sugar. Place the chocolate, butter and remaining sugar in a heavy saucepan and cook over low heat until the chocolate and butter have melted and the sugar has dissolved. Remove the pan from the heat, stir in the vanilla extract and let the mixture cool.

Bet the egg yolks into the chocolate mixture, beating each in well, then stir in the flour.

In a large mixing bowl, using an electric mixer, bet the egg whites until they are frothy. Increase the speed, add the salt and continue beating until soft peaks form. Sprinkle over the reserved sugar and beat until the whites are stiff and glossy. Beat one-third of the whites into the chocolate mixture, then fold in the remaining whites.

Carefully our the mixture into the pan and tap the pan gently to release any air bubbles.

Bake the cake for about 35-45 minutes until well risen and the top springs back when touched lightly with a fingertip. You can also test with a toothpick, making sure the toothpick comes out of the center clean. Transfer the cake to a wire rack, remove the side of the pan and let cool completely. Remove the pan base. Dust the cake with confectioner's sugar and transfer to a serving plate.

It's A Beautiful Day

Dinghys tied to a dock in Monterey Bay

I went for a run today and I felt my energy skyrocket. The mercury has re assumed it's elevated level on the thermostat. Surprisingly there was an influx of runners and walkers on the path. Obviously the pleasant weather brought them out of hiding, but I would have thought the warmer weather would be a shock to the system. It certainly has been to mine. My runs have been comfortable with the clouds and breeze and mild weather. Today was the first day that my face was flushed red and I felt the heat level rise in my body. The heat felt like pure positive energy pulsing through my system. I centered myself in a "zone." I concentrated on steady breathing, my arms pumping, the sun burning down on my face, the breeze gently cooling, my steps rhythmic and methodical. As I slowed for my cool down walk for the last 1/4 mile, I could feel the blood pulsating through my system. My face was hot, but I wasn't uncomfortable. I could feel energy radiating out, bordering on euphoria, as I continued my steady breathing. It was the strangest most elated sensation I have ever gotten from a run. It was like my body was telling me that I am finally in the right climate, that for too long it has battled the weariness of being cold and constantly and tirelessly chugging to keep my system at a comfortable 98.6 degrees. I felt clear headed and motivated, being surrounded with this beautiful day that embraced me.

I am going to be writing for the Decanted Wines Blog starting soon. It will be similar to what I am doing now with my blog, but with more emphasis on wine and beer and less emphasis on food. You can see my first article posted on their website on Washington Wines

http://www.decantedwines.com/main.asp?request=ARTICLES&article=9&

I will keep you posted!

Today's recipe was kind of a compilation of leftovers. I had made this vodka sauce several weeks ago and froze the remainder. This recipe makes a huge amount. I think it served three of us when I made it. Last night I took half of what I had left out of the freezer and that was plenty for two of us with a little leftover, and there is still another serving left! So you can either do like what I did and freeze it or just half the recipe. I think we served it with shrimp last time. This time I did roasted chicken and it turned out excellent. I had three chicken legs in the freezer that didn't have a whole lot of meat on them, so they were perfect for a pasta topping. I have been really into penne, shells and orzo pasta lately, but all we had on hand was spaghetti noodles. Use whatever you would like. This sauce is so easy and has really great flavor, I found it by doing quick search for a vodka sauce and a recipe on All Recipes.com popped up. You'll never go back to a jar of sauce after this one.

Pasta with Vodka Sauce and Roast Chicken

Serves 8

For the Chicken:

2 lbs chicken breast or legs, or a whole chicken

1 tbsp olive oil

2 tbsp fresh or dried oregano and thyme

2 cloves garlic, chopped

salt and pepper

For the Sauce:

1/2 cup butter

1 onion, diced

1 cup vodka

2 - 28 oz cans crushed Italian tomatoes

1 pint heavy cream

2 lbs pasta noodles

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place chicken in a roasting pan and coat with olive oil. Top chicken with herbs, garlic, salt and pepper. Place in preheated oven for 30 minutes or until the chicken begins to brown. When chicken is brown, put a lid or foil over the top. Baste chicken occasionally with the juices. Cook until thermometer reads 165 degrees in the thickest spot, about 30 minutes to 1 hour more.

Meanwhile, in a large skillet over medium heat, melt butter and saute onion until browned and soft. Pour in vodka and cook for 10 minutes. Mix in crushed tomatoes and cook for 30 minutes. Pour in heavy cream and cook for another 30 minutes.

Heat a large pot filled with salted water and cook pasta according to directions on package.

Serve pasta with sauce and chicken with grated Parmesan.

All Things Beach

I don't think I enjoy anything more than going to the beach in the wintertime. I suppose March is considered early spring, but it is still snowing in other parts of the country, so we'll just call it winter. I loved living in Charleston for that reason. However in Charleston, the beaches were empty in the winter. It was absolutely wonderful because we had miles upon miles of empty stretches of beach where we could let the dogs run to their heart's content. The roles are reversed in southwest Florida. Winter is busy season, summer is slow. No one wants to be here in the summer heat, which is fine by me. Considering this winter has thus far proved to be temperate at best, I am ready for the summertime heat and being able to lay out on the beach in a swimsuit, not a sweater, not to mention the minimization of the crowds. Wintertime here is absolutely nuts! It feels like August on the Med on a sunny day in March.

I suppose it's worse on a Sunday (this past Sunday was the first nice day in a long time). It's the day that everyone is out and about doing their beachy things. Everyone is trying to get in one last day of fun before they head back up north. We tried out the beach again today, a Tuesday. This time we headed to the slightly less crowded beaches of North Naples. Dave brought home a surprise the other day, an inflatable Sevylor paddleboard that he got with his West Marine discount. We already had paddles from his paddleboard making days in Washington. We were anxious to try it out so we headed down to the beach. Although it didn't look like the Spring Break crowd, there were still a good amount of people on the beach, which was a little intimidating for a paddleboard session with our new board. The last time either of us were on a paddleboard was Dave's test run on the pond at my Dad's house.

All went well. We didn't do anything too embarrassing such as looking like rookies, biffing it/falling in, carrying it the wrong way, using the paddle wrong, etc. This paddleboard is great, it packs up into a dry bag/backpack. You unroll it and pump it up until it is solid. It holds up to a 250 lb person. It was a perfect day out on the gulf. Overcast, but warm, not a breath of wind and the gulf was glowing green. I realized halfway to the beach that I didn't bring my camera, so I guess I will have to do a whole other blog on paddleboarding so you can see some pictures.

Instead of paddleboard pictures, I will just have to tempt you with an amazing meal that we put together last night. Karen and Mike are back in town, but Mike was heading back to Buffalo today so we decided to have a good family meal at home. They were in the mood for swordfish so we stopped at the local fish market, Randy's, and got four nice fillets.

I was having a hard time trying to figure out a sauce to serve with the swordfish. Mike just wanted his plain, with a little blackening seasoning on it, so that meant that we were serving the sauce on the side. I couldn't do my regular butter based sauces because it would separate and get coagulated if it sat too long. I also had to work with what I had on hand since we had already gone to the store. I would usually choose capers for a white fish, but alas, no capers were to be found. I found some Spanish olives and ended up using them for a nice salty bite. Here is what I came up with, and I watched as Mike tried a bit, then proceeded to dump a heavy spoonful on his second helping of fish. I will call it a Spanish version because of the olives and it just seems like it has a Spanish salsa flare. Success!

Spanish Style Swordfish

Serves 4

2 lbs Swordfish, Mahi Mahi, Sea Bass, or other white fish (plan on 1/2 lb per person)

2 tbsp butter

1 tbsp fresh squeezed lemon juice

Blackening Seasoning - I prefer Zatarains or Old Bay

For the Salsa:

2 medium tomatoes

2 tbsp butter

1 small onion

2 cloves garlic

1 green onion stalk

1 tsp red pepper flakes

1/4 cup chopped Spanish olives with pimentos

1 wedge lime or lemon

Salt and Pepper

Heat oven to 450 degrees. Cut top out of the tomatoes and place them top side down on a baking tray. Roast for 20 minutes until skin is split and starting to blacken. Put tomatoes in a blender or food processor and pulse a few times until tomatoes are chopped but not pureed.

Meanwhile, add butter to a saucepan and melt over medium heat. Add onion and saute for several minutes until tender. Add garlic and green onion and cook for a few more minutes to release the garlic aroma. Add the olives, tomatoes, red pepper flakes and lime. Cook over medium low heat until flavors have blended, a few minutes more.

In a separate sauce pan, melt butter with lemon. When butter is melted, brush over fish and sprinkle with desired amount of blackening seasoning. Preheat BBQ or grill to medium high. Cook fish on grill for about 5 minutes, depending on thickness, or until done.

Serve with salsa.