I suppose I’ve always known this to some limited extent. I’ve actually watered down some true life stories for my books because the truth was too hard to believe. Just the other night I took one look at the name of a new bull rider on the pro circuit, Stormy Wing, and said to my husband, “If I named a character that I’d get killed with criticism, but it’s this kid’s real name”.

You see the dilemma when life is so strange no one would believe it if I were to write it in a book. However, I can write it here and perhaps have someone believe me that it is the absolute, God’s honest truth.

So what was the strangeness that assaulted me last night? It was the current state of the online dating scene. My friend has decided to make online dating a second job, or at least that’s what it seems like because it takes as much time and effort as a job, and some of the men she’s encountered are real pieces of work. For instance the one with the foot fetish. To his credit he did ask her during live date one (the one and only date) if a man with a foot fetish would disturb her. She asked the same question I did when she told me… what exactly does having a foot fetish entail? I was picturing toe sucking and cringing at the fact that it’s been far too long since I’ve had a pedicure, but apparently this man enjoys his (time for some purple prose here to keep the censors at bay) ‘nether region pleasured’ by feet. I kid you not.

In another area of the net, for people who don’t want to shell out the cash for the more well known and well advertised dating sites like the foot man above did, there is Craig’s List. Apparently you can find not only used furnishings on there but also men, women, and transvestites in the Personals section. I learned some new terminology. Apparently on Craig’s List in the Casual Encounters section, “car dates” are a perfectly common thing. (I believe they are using the term ‘date’ quite loosely there.) Fair warning, keep the kids far away from that site, my eyes are still burning from some of the images I saw.

Truth truly is stranger than fiction and in the internet age, dating is, sadly, stranger still.

Cat

So I guess the trick is to either be a soothsayer and know what the next trend will be, 0r write in a genre that is always popular. I write romance. I get a lot of flack for writing romance, but you know what? Romance sells. During the great recession of 2009, romance sales increased. It was even on the news as people who belittle the genre for not being ‘important literature’ had to admit there is a place in this world for good old fashioned mindless entertainment. When people are losing their jobs and their homes, why wouldn’t they want something to take their mind off reality for a few hours. And with movie theater tickets creeping steadily upward (not to mention the price of the popcorn and soda which should be considered extortion), a good old paperback is looking more and more like a bargain.

So yes I have to put up with the critics who say I write trash and laugh at me. I laugh all the way to the bank with my royalty checks because I write what sells. Does that make me a sell out? No, it makes me smart. Besides I wouldn’t do it no matter how well it sold if I didn’t love my job.

One of the biggest compliments I’ve ever received was when one of the executives of a major production company called me “very commercial”. I did ask the person the comment was made to if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He told me it was a very good thing and I agree.

Until next time.

Cat

What does this all mean? In my eyes it means we are becoming more distant from each other, separated by modern conveniences that isolate us in a technology bubble. It appears we have more communication, but in reality the distance between people has grown.

Here is what I propose… This Valentines Day instead of going online and ordering an overpriced dozen roses, sit down and write a letter… and I mean with a real pen and piece of paper. Cook your lover a meal and eat it together, at home where it’s quiet and there are no waiters and other patrons to disturb your conversation and whatever else may follow the meal. Turn off the technology and simply be together. Love is free, and sometimes it needs to be free from modern conveniences as well.

Happy Valentines Day!

Cat

Anyway, that is not sexy food so why am I writing about this on the Eat Something Sexy blogs? I’ve been thinking about the years I spent at that club a lot lately. In the serendipitous way things sometimes work out, my old bar manager from the club just found me on Facebook, and with him came a whole slew of new FB friends from among the old crew I used to work with. That, just as the story I wrote and set at the country club is about to release. Funny, isn’t it? And now, being the promo ‘ho I am, I am engaging in a blog tour to promote the story because Private Lies (my country club story) is part of All Romance eBooks’ 28 Days of Heart series, and all proceeds from the 28 eBooks (released one each day in February) will go to benefit the American Heart Association. So I’ve been writing blog posts for about 2 days straight now. In fact, with blog posts dancing in my sleepless head, I rose at 430 am this morning and here I am with you now.

Anyway, the point of this predawn ramble is this–I’ve been thinking a lot about that club and how it formed who I am today and I can honestly say it changed the kind of cook and the kind of diner I am. No, I’m not talking about the chocolate mousse made from powered mix Chef Fred (picture Gordon Ramsey with a German accent) used to literally throw at us when he was angry. I’m talking about the good stuff, the stuff kept in the back. Because just like how all the best stuff happening at that club was behind the scenes, out of view of the average old man tottering in to have me refresh his Dewars on the rocks (lots of Dewars, not so many rocks), the best food was also in the back.

Paco, Johnny and the kitchen crew that worked beneath the lunatic head chef all came from the same village in Mexico. In the winter they lived a warm, carefree life in Mexico. If you wanted to reach them, you had to call the phone located in the store in town. One of them would usually be hanging out there playing dominoes. But in the summer all the men of that town would fly north to New York and live in the rooms upstairs in the clubhouse while working at the club and earning enough money to send back to their families and live on the entire year.

And with them came some of the best food I’ve ever had the pleasure of partaking in. It was a lucky staff member who stumbled upon the food that Paco or Johnny cooked up. It was at the club where I learned to love and make Pico de Gayo (loosely translated that is ‘the rooster’s peck’ because this dish has a kick). You could throw anything at these guys and they’d make a feast of it. After the club fishing trip, guess who cooked up the Bluefish? The greenskeeper accidentally hit a deer with his car, yeah, that got turned into stew. Fresh tomatoes from Sam the locker room attendant’s garden? They threw chopped jalepeno peppers and oil in a big bowl with the tomato wedges, someone brought in a fresh italian bread and we’d all sit around the table, and the bowl, dipping and eating with our lips burning but never happier. I was on the bar crew and when we were lucky, we’d have fresh Guacomole and homemade salsa on the bar, though I’m sure I ate more than the patrons.

There were a few club members in the know. They’d bypass the coffee shop server and head straight back to where Paco was working on the line and say, “I want what YOU guys are eating.” Smart man because as I learned during those summers, the good stuff is always kept in the back.

Cat

Some of the most successful movies, both recently and historically, by no means had happy ever after (HEA) endings. Maybe I’ve been trained to see things differently. Working with independent romance publishers, an HEA, or at least an HFN (happy for now) is a requirement for many small press romance publishers and for many readers. In fact, it’s a deal breaker for many pubs.

So why does Hollywood and the movie-going public flock to movies that leave the characters and the viewers without a happy ending? I wish I knew. What I do know is that while watching “I am Legend” with Will Smith, I kept waiting for his HEA. I even IMd my friend mid-movie and said “Please tell me this has a happy ending.” Of course, he couldn’t. Recently I watched “Knowing” with Nicolas Cage. They set us up for a romance between him and the female lead. Spoiler alert for those who haven’t seen it… things do not end well, for anyone.

My coworker and I joked last night that we have to write a book where our characters are miserable, or even better dead at the end, then we can sell it to Hollywood and maybe even win an Oscar. Honestly, if we look at the stories that defy time (Romeo and Juliet, King Arthur and Marian) things again, don’t end well. So why do they touch us so? Why do we seek out and share the characters’ pain?

Perhaps because real life happy ever afters are few and far between. Maybe misery simply wants company.

Recently my one friend has begun seriously looking. The whole routine with the online dating sites, followed by day after day of basically blind dates, followed by her complaining that looking for love was a lot of work. Having been married for nearly 20 years myself, I hate to break the news to her that finding him is just the beginning of the work. But throughout this process of hers, I see a pattern. She gave me a whole list of things she didn’t like about the guy de jour before she even met him. After the date, the list grew. Things such as “He’s a former cop, which I don’t like” before the meet up. Folowed by “I didn’t like his teeth and he’s possibly a Nazi” after the meet.

That was when my original suspicions were confirmed. She isn’t open to finding love. If such ridiculous minutia is going to prevent her from getting to really know a guy, she will never get close enough to any man to fall for him. No one is perfect. There are imperfections with everyone, but when you are truly in love, you don’t see them.

I’m not picking on my friend. I think this phenomenon is common. In fact just yesterday it was a segment on Oprah. A very attractive 40-something year old woman couldn’t find love. They brought in a professional matchmaker to help her. The woman’s must have list for her perfect mate was a mile long and included things like “never been married, no kids, younger than her, and he can’t ever drink out of a straw.” What? Good luck with that (and that was exactly what the matchmaker told her).

So I guess my question is this… are some of us open while other are simply closed to love?

Cat

What is most interesting is I think it is the opposite for my friend the chef. I know when he is stressed, he goes outside and works in the yard, or cleans the house, or replaces all the nails in the sheetrock with woodscrews instead…you get the idea. I guess for him, anything besides what he does for a living is his escape.

Anyway, that was my epiphany this new year. I’ve also begun an attempt to be more healthy. My friend’s family had quite a few cancer scares last year and since she has become a healthy living guru. Consequently I have gotten numerous lectures about how the artificial sweetener and creamer I prefer in my morning coffee is going to kill me. I’m not promising that I’ll reform totally but I have taken a step. I purchases a Keurig milk frother. The thing was insanely expensive but since I had a coupon and it was the week before Christmas, I treated myself to a gift. It heats and froths non-fat milk into beautiful, creamy peaks that turns coffee into a latte worthy of Starbucks, and for way cheaper. I’ve also made Chai Tea Latte at home with it. Considering the crazy prices at coffee shops nowadays, I probably paid for it already and I have to say, it feels truly decadent to have such a beautifully indulgent cup of coffee while still in my pajamas.

Yes, coffee can be sexy!

So that is my ’state of the author’ address for this new year. I’m resolving to write every day, but also to give myself a mental break when I need it; treat myself to the good things in life (IE $80 frothers and tasty lattes); and yes, until my stress level lowers there will be lots of cooking.

Until next time,

Cat

So I got Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child for Christmas. It’s 684 pages, not counting all the index pages in the back which are numbered with Roman numerals that I can’t decipher because I went to public school. This tome weighs a good ten pounds and though I far outweigh it, it is intimidating the hell out of me.

It’s my own fault, really. When my mother called from the bookstore weeks ago and asked if I would like it for Christmas I said yes. Why? Because I love a good story and the story that surrounds this book of late is a great one.

Julie Powell back in August of 2002 decided to not only cook her way through this book, all 536 recipes in 365 days while holding down a real job, but also to blog about it in what she named ‘The Julie/Julia Project”. But that isn’t the story that gets me, it’s what happens next. She turned that year-long blog into a book, and that book became the Meryl Streep, Amy Adams movie “Julie & Julia” that everyone is talking about. Being a writer, publication stories like that fascinate me. So much so I have googled my tushy off and found the original 2002 blog, and I am reading my way through it, day by day, and totally enjoying it.

Julie is normal. She screws up the recipes, and then tells us about how when that happens, she just adds more butter and cream to try and fix it. She drops the f-word liberally, as anyone would while taking on such a monumental challenge. She calls it like she sees it, wondering at the craziness around her, such as the raw food movement that hits during her cooking experiment, or that she couldn’t find swiss cheese in her regular food store in Brooklyn but she could buy imported Fontina.

I anticipate I will enjoy her real-life blog musings far more than what I am sure is a sanitized for mainstream publishing, edited version that hit the bookshelves. She already hinted at that in the comment that the book title (Julie & Julia) is boring, the result of an editorial battle lost. And don’t we authors know all about that–choose your battles.

No, I have no plans what so ever in this lifetime to repeat Julie’s project, but I do hope to challenge myself with a few of these recipes. Looking through the book, the first thing to cross my mind was how outdated it seemed to my modern cook’s eye. I learned to cook during the dawn of olive oil, and microwaves. Julia Child wrote this book in 1961, and it is more than obvious her two favorite ingredients are butter and heavy cream.

Yet a lot of what Julia Child writes makes sense, such as when she warns against the temptation to use the food processor to blend your potato leek soup. She’s right, that one appliance means the difference between what ends up being more like runny mashed potatoes rather than a hearty soup where the potatoes and leeks are still recognizable.

I suppose if I take away a few techniques and basics, it will only help me in everything I cook. If nothing else, it will be a lesson in humility. Let’s just hope I am strong enough to withstand such a lesson. I have to wonder about that as I ignore daily the container full of cookies that I screwed up but still refuse to throw away. Who I think is going to eat them is beyond me, they taste bad and look worse, but there they sit, waiting on the counter. Perhaps humility is what both Julie and Julia are meant to teach me.

I will keep you informed of both the failures and the successes.

Humbly,

Cat

Being Italian/Catholic, Donna’s family does it up big, with the meal of the 7 Fishes and all. Sigh, now I need to go Google the significance of the 7 fishes…hang on…okay, looks like you can’t eat meat so you had to eat fish, and the reason for the 7 is not confirmed but it could relate to the 7 days of creation or possibly the number of Sacraments. Thank you, Wikipedia. Moving on…

Anyway, the trip to Arthur Avenue signals I have very little time to finish my gift shopping. Yes, that was a confession, I’m not done yet. Luckily I am down to just a few gift certificates and a quick trip to the liquor store and I will be done, but for those of you in a tighter bind, here are a few suggestions of some of my favorite gifts to give.

FOOD- Who doesn’t love a big basket packed full with tasty treats? And unlike the unattractive sweater that you have to wear or risk insulting the giver, food gifts can be easily eaten, donated, or re-gifted at one of the many holiday parties you’ll be attending. I personally like a theme. I’ve put together a ’spicy’ basket with various fun hot sauces, chocolates I found online that contained hot pepper, and even beer made with chili peppers. Throw in an attractive bottle opener, perhaps a tree ornament or cute cocktail napkins or bowl and Viola! Fun, unique, done! With not much time left for shipping, you procrastinators will have to go to a local gourmet shop or beer importer and buy your basket purchases there.

BOOKS- I’m an author, of course I love books and bookstores are open late during this season and the larger chains even email you 30% off coupons if you sign up. Children on my list have gotten the Eloise books since I LOVE The Plaza Hotel in NY. My nieces have also received a fun book I found “Auntie Claus” about a child who finds out her aunt is Santa. For adults, cookbooks are fun. Amy’s Fork Me, Spoon Me Aphrodisiac cookbook is a great gift, wrapped up with a serving fork and spoon perhaps?

WINE – It’s no secret I buy wine by the name and the label. I’ve gifted wines by the name of Bitch, Fat Bastard, Il Bastardo, Menage e Trios, Old Fart, Seven Deadly Zins, Daddy’s Day Off, Mad Housewife, even Big House (with a sketch of a prison on the label for my lawyer friend)… you get the picture.

Use your imagination, connect it specifically to the person you’re giving it to and wrap it attractively, and even a last minute gift won’t look like it.

As I plot out my day and its errands, I wish you all a wonderful holiday.

Cat

]]> http://eatsomethingsexy.com/blogs/catjohnson/2009/12/22/tis-the-season/feed/ 2 http://eatsomethingsexy.com/blogs/catjohnson/2009/12/12/of-sex-and-comfort-food/ http://eatsomethingsexy.com/blogs/catjohnson/2009/12/12/of-sex-and-comfort-food/#comments Sat, 12 Dec 2009 17:42:06 +0000 Cat Johnson http://eatsomethingsexy.com/blogs/catjohnson/?p=90 Judging by the title, you might think I’m suggesting you eat hot, creamy baked macaroni and cheese off your lover’s naked body. No, that’s not what I had in mind, but now that you mention it, it’s not a bad idea.

I am talking about indulging.

True life example. My friend told me about the new Starbucks Gingerbread Latte, full of flavor, hot, creamy, and sweet, loaded with mounds of whipped and, also, calories–probably enough to equal a person’s daily caloric and fat allowance. So we went to Starbucks, my friend and I, and decided we would indulge in this famed Gingerbread Latte of which she spoke, but we were going to be smart about it. We ordered it made with non-fat milk and just a tiny dot of whipped cream on top.

You know what? It wasn’t worth it. Yes, it was okay, but not wonderful and probably still loaded with calories. It was a pale imitation of what it should have been, and because of that, it left us feeling less than satisfied.

So that got me thinking. Do you sacrifice pleasure for frequency? Should I drink the ’skinny’ latte to save the calories so I can indulge in it more often even if each experience is lacking. If we were speaking of sex, if the question was would you rather have frequent, unsatisfying sex, or blow-the-roof-off-the-house amazing sex less freqently, the answer would be clear. I’d blow the roof off the house. However, sex doesn’t make you fat (unless perhaps you are eating comfort food off your lover, but still, the sex itself burns calories so we’ll call it a wash).

So is the answer for food indulgences the same as the answer for sex? I think yes. I think I’d rather have the kick-ass, orgasmic, full-fat, piles of whipped cream Gingerbread Latte once in a rare while and savor the experience, than waste the money and calories on the pale imitation more frequently. What do you say?

Remember, life is short. Indulge.

Cat