As I write this, we are in Day 36 of the 2025 US Government shutdown, currently the longest in US history (#1 and #2 both happened under a certain administration). In addition to the rollbacks of several rights and dignities, handouts of questionable pardons, large-scale layoffs in special education, mental health, food and drug safety, more key positions that keep us all safe, and a general breakdown of decency that have avalanched on top of us over the past year, the US currently faces: 42 million of the most vulnerable Americans who rely on Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) benefits left without access to food; Affordable Care Act (ACA) recipients (again, the most vulnerable) saw health insurance premiums increase as much as 300% this weekend; An impending chaos as airports, who have already have challenges with staffing shortages and equipment failure, now have air traffic controllers and TSA agents working without pay (could we see certain airspace closed if the shutdown continues?). While people are struggling and suffering, both sides are blaming each other, sometimes with slander and lies – more like schoolyard blame than adults who are supposed to be governing us.
“The Vibe is Different” Working at the Salem Visitor Info Booth, talking to friends and colleagues, and handing out Halloween candy with neighbors this year, one of the conversations that always came up unbidden was that “something” was off this year. “The vibe is different downtown,” said one of the volunteers at the booth. “I just haven’t felt the Halloween spirit, even when walking around the city, this year,” came from a friend that absolutely lives for this season. My husband and our neighbor echoed the same sentiment even as we were handing our candy to small children in costume (and some teenagers not in costume) – probably the exact moment we should have been in the spirit. To everyone that brought this up, I asked “Why do you think that is?” Answers always included some version of “The world is sh!t right now and I am just over it – every day it’s something else to add to the pile and I can’t enjoy the small things anymore.”
Disassociation My husband and I have stopped watching the news. News articles or headlines are ignored, and we now get our news from discussions with friends (who can deal with reading the news) and through late night talk show hosts giving us the news with a side of humor. This is not an ideal situation, but when news items cause my blood pressure to rise or make me angry, that is directly affecting my health. It feels as if we all have the sword of Damocles hanging over us. Short of living off the grid in the mountains somewhere, avoiding the news altogether is an impossible task.
So what do you do to help alleviate the anxiety, depression, and feeling of hopelessness and defeat that can come from a situation almost entirely out of our hands?
Quiet Solo Activities Since childhood, I’ve turned to reading to escape and enter new worlds. While I can enjoy diving into non-fiction I am deeply interested in, I almost always choose sci-fi, fantasy, magical realism, period, historical, romantic, mystery, or literary fiction. These genres, by default, can sweep you away from yourself and your everyday surroundings. I am currently re-reading a series (two trilogies and multiple novellas) that I have loved for years in preparation of the final book that was just released. Going to the library, browsing online for ebooks or audiobooks, and adding to my to-be-read list are also comforts because I know that I won’t have to struggle to find the next read or listen after I’ve finished the one(s) I’m on. This pre-planning will become a theme…
If you’ve seen some of my other posts, you know that I enjoy sewing – whether that’s creating a costume or putting together an outfit for the Info Booth, sewing an orange fleece coat because I couldn’t find one in the store (picture here), making a quilt for a neighbor’s baby, toys for my nieces and nephews, or cabana outfits for an upcoming vacation, I find peace in the planning and execution of a creative project with a clear, tangible, end goal. Even with the most complicated pattern or difficult technique, I am still enjoying the process and can zone out from everything but the project itself. I haven’t worked on anything lately, partly because I gained a lot of stress weight and am in the process of losing it. Every time I think about wanting to start something for myself, I hesitate because I don’t want to create something in the wrong size. I’ve done that before with long projects. Plus, I am still mourning the loss of Joann Fabrics…
I play the ukulele because music is a part of my upbringing and my soul. I haven’t picked it up in a few weeks now (and that makes me sad), but when I can learn a new song or improve my fingering on something, it makes me feel good – and who doesn’t smile when you here a uke?!?
I have always loved puzzles, but in 2013 I started amassing a pile of them. I’m not sure I remember why. I would set them up on a table or on the window seat and spend an hour each day, or a whole weekend day, putting them together, then I would package it up and pass it on to a friend to do. It became a favorite winter pastime to set them up in the window and watch the snow come down while I listened to some LPs (this started as a reason to get up from the chair periodically, because I had to flip or change the record). I created the hashtag #drunkpuzzling for social media and after buying a fold-up puzzle table, made several playlists on Spotify (so I wouldn’t have to get up!). While they are not a frequent as they have been, I finished a Horror Movie one last month (thematic!) and still have a stack of unopened boxes in my office.
When none of the above seems palatable after dinner, and I am left to my own devices to entertain myself, I put YouTube on the TV. Most of my subscriptions are cozy, slow, informative, emotional, and/or quirky things that bring me a little peace and a bit of serotonin. It could be top 10 lists of nostalgic things from my childhood, Golden Girls best-of clips, cooking demonstrations, cocktail history, late night monologues, comedy specials, live performances, sewing tutorials, author interviews, deep sea cameras, drone footage of Hawaii, mythology, Salem trip vloggers (looking for people I know), or it could be a content creator that I enjoy and feel a kinship with. Kathleen Illustrated reminds me of one of my local friends that is a spark of joy in my life. Rachel Maksy is the quintessence of “cozy” with a side of chaotic floor goblin. These are my people! In fact, this video inspired me to take up the next diversion.
Are all gays artistic, or is it just because we knew the Art Room at school was a safe space? I joke, but leaning into artistic pursuits has always been a comfort to me, whether performing, painting, crafting, or just making-up stories. Rachel’s video (and probably some bourbon?) inspired me to order a small travel watercolor set, papers, and brushes. My (again, bourbon…) aspiration was that I would take the kit on our next trip and spend some time relaxing on a beach and painting (Spoiler: I did take it with me, but didn’t paint on vacation – I did paint when I was back home from pictures I took, though). Watercolor is so counter-intuitive to what I had known in using acrylic paints for the past 40+ years (light to dark vs. dark to light; translucence vs. opaque, etc), that I failed in my first attempts and had to buy a few how-to-books to actually learn how to use them. It’s a work-in-progress, but hopefully one I will stick with.
About three years ago, we were both frustrated with deciding what to eat for dinner, so I caved and signed up for a meal service. We have since gone through 4 services in that time – switching each time due to the lack of variety. The last service we had was interesting, but the meals were hit-or-miss. Over the last few weeks, we would opt not to eat dinner over having one of the pre-packaged meals. We ended up wasting food and that made me mad. I downgraded for the month of October (it was too busy here, so I needed the convenience that month) and then cancelled. I signed-up for a 14 day trial on a well-known recipe site for $1. I spent a few hours each day going through the entire 400+ recipe archive, printing anything that looked interesting or matched our tastes, then cancelled before being charged the full fee. I laid the printouts all out on the table by category (meat entrée, dessert, pasta, side, vegetarian, etc) and chose menus for whole weeks. I would choose a roast or some recipe that took several hours and feed 4 or more people to cook on Sundays with leftovers on Monday. I chose a lighter or quicker meal for Tuesdays (a day one or both of us often have other commitments or limited time) like soup or salads. I picked a contrast dinner on Wednesday based on what we had for Sunday/Monday (e.g. chicken, pork or seafood if we had beef for Sunday/Monday). Our friend comes over every Thursday, which typically turned into takeout when we had the meal services, so this was the second meal I chose (after the Sun/Mon decision) each week, focusing on what all three of us would like and varying it over time. I decided to make Friday and Saturday optional (leaving space for whimsy, leftovers, or eating out), with a backup pizza recipe each week – I then made a batch of dough and froze portions for that purpose. Once I was happy with each week’s plan (taking into account Thanksgiving, travel, etc), I clipped them all together and made a cover sheet with a shopping list. This last exercise actually helped me to reorder some weeks to take advantage of buying an ingredient once to cover 2 or more weeks in a row, optimizing value. I’m aware that this all sounds like a lot of work, but it’s that preparation and creative outlet of putting it all together that I enjoy. It also gives me the peace of mind to know that everything is planned from now through the first week of January 2026 without thinking about it again. I’ve automated it. If we like the recipes, they can be recycled into the next plan, or we can start over from scratch again. Like creating something on the sewing machine, this research, preparation and gathering materials is all part of what brings me comfort. In addition, I LOVE to cook. Preparing a meal is another Zen-like task that brings me into focus, and like all of the pursuits above, having a tangible (edible!) end product to enjoy at the end of the labor is a love and a feeling of accomplishment, especially when if brings joy to others.
Coping Together I’ll leave out the obvious activities (this is not that kind of blog!), but when my husband is not pursuing his solo coping mechanisms (journaling, napping, learning how to create AI videos for school, focusing on cleaning, listening to audiobooks), we watch movies and TV series together, sit and listen to old radio shows, work on our business, plan for vacations (real and fantasy), go to the casino to use freeplay, research things on YouTube, sit and laugh at comedy shows or late night monologues, or just sit and read while sitting next to each other with the cats sitting on our laps. It is easier to cope together, and I am so fortunate and thankful that we have each other as support.
Helping Others Cope Local food pantries are looking for volunteers to cover extended hours, or for more food and financial donations – if your local grocery store is having a buy 2, get 3 promotion, consider getting extra and donating to those in need. Offer help (directly or indirectly) to someone in need – “I bought too many vegetables/made too much soup, do you want some?” Invite someone who is alone or struggling to dinner. Offer to drive your neighbor to appointments so they don’t have to pay for a ride on top of increased healthcare expense. Spread joy through your actions. Spread laughter. Spread love.
We don’t know how long these troubling times are going to be, or what new trials we may need to face, but if we support each other and come together as a people, we can survive and possibly come out of this better than before.
This is my 8th season volunteering at the Salem Haunted Happenings Information Booth (see past stories here). The first outfit I wore on my very first shift has evolved into my traditional, signature first outfit each year, now known as “Ambassador Witch.”
My very first shift, October 2016, and the birth of “Ambassador Witch.”
Does anyone still wear a hat?! It all started with the idea of wanting a pointed witch hat, but one that had a more stylized, ‘masculine’ feel than the commercially available ones. I definitely wanted it to be part of an “outfit” rather than a “costume,” as if it were part of an everyday uniform. I also wanted to challenge myself, as I had no pattern, and had never made a hat before. What began with just the hat expanded to a matching hatband and bowtie (plus matching pocket square on days cool enough for the corduroy sport coat), then I found striped socks and realized I could slide my pants up to my knees to look like knicker and show-off the socks. Voila! Having been worn every year for multiple shifts, the jacket and hat are starting to fade and show some sign of wear-and-tear, and none of the blacks match, but it still feels like putting on an old friend or stepping back into a service uniform after retirement.
New year, new outfit Each year, I try to add at least one new outfit to the roster, so I have options. Sometimes it is unseasonably warm, or rainy, so outfits were made out of necessity or comfort. Each time I create a new one, I try to push myself and learn a new technique or how to improve on what I have already done. I have three pointed witch hats now – the black one, a green tweed, and an orange flannel. Each one is nearly identical in shape and size, but more refined than the last. In 2021, I decided to finally make a “costume” by recreating Mickey Mouse’s Brave Little Tailor, which wound-up in the 2022 brochure!! Hundreds of thousands of people were walking around with my face in their hands. It was wild.
This year was a tough one, for many reasons you will soon hear about, and designing a new outfit was on the back burner. All of my planned sewing projects for this year were focused on the travel we had planned for the year (our first cruise, a trip to a mid-century-modern themed resort, and a Christmas cruise with my Mother-in-law). I made multiple shirt styles, fitted shorts, bathing suits, and bags for the cruise (cancelled – see below), cabana outfits and bowling shirts (that trip happened and was wonderful), and I began a tropical holiday sport coat that is now on hold, as that cruise was moved to next year. It wasn’t until I had time to breathe in late August that I realized I didn’t have anything new for the booth, and a very full schedule between then and October!
Anticipation and Loss My husband’s coping mechanism for getting through the 2022-2023 school year was to plan our first cruise for June 2023. He spent hours and hours on research: blogs, message boards, websites, travel agents, booking and rebooking for deals, buying supplies, and planning our outfits. It would be a gross understatement to say this cruise was highly anticipated. As I said, I had made us multiple shirts, shorts, bathing suits, and bags in my free time. We thought we were going until 48 hours before our flight to Texas to meet the ship. That is when my brother, who had been battling cancer, moved to hospice care. We made the decision to cancel the trip (praying our trip insurance would reimburse us some of the cost) and go to Florida to say goodbye to him. We rearranged our luggage, booked new flights, and went directly from the airport to the house to see him, then to a fundraiser for him that was being held at his local bar. We stopped in again to see him the next day where I had a chance to tell him about the wonderful community that had rallied around his family at the bar, and that they would be taken care of – he could stop suffering and let go.
Our flight home was delayed and then cancelled, which would have stranded us in the Fort Myers airport for 3 more days. We were able to find flights out of Orlando for the next day, so we rented the second car of the trip to drive 3+ hours to Orlando to stay overnight. That night, my brother passed. Some other time I can tell you more details of how our 3 day trip turned into being stuck in Florida for 18 days (4 flight cancellations, checked baggage retrieval, 5 rental cars, 6 hotels, a wake, a funeral…. it was a lot).
Losing my brother, only 4 years older than me, was (and is) extremely painful for all of us.
Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign… After my Father passed, his way of letting me know he was around was to play a song that had special meaning to us. I remember one really rough commute that made me ornery and angry. I walked into my go-to coffee spot and as I was steaming next to the bakery case trying to decide which muffin to get, Country Roads by John Denver came on. This was a popular spot with students near MIT and usually played more (shall we say) modern music. I immediately stopped fuming, took a breath and whispered “Thanks Dad.” Other out-of-place songs happen whenever I need him, and I know he’s with me.
My brother also had many songs that I immediately equate with him any time I heard them, most of them Neil Diamond classics. This became common knowledge for anyone that met him for more than 10 minutes. At the wake, there were only 3 songs played on repeat: 2 Neil Diamond songs and one that you can probably guess if you noticed the title. Cut to August: I’m frantically trying to think of something I can whip-up for the booth with no success, and out of the blue, this song starts playing in my head:
At first, I thought it was because we had been listening to it at the wake and singing it at the top of our lungs at the bar after the funeral, but it was increasingly insistent and immediately present whenever I thought about October. So thank you, Brother. I hear you loud and clear.
But First, Some History The song Rhinestone Cowboy (and the movies Rhinestone and The Electric Horseman) would not exist if not for Nudie Cohn. This Ukrainian Jewish refugee is the unlikely father of the Western suits covered in embroidery and rhinestones that are still known as “Nudie Suits.” You can see some examples of his work in the Country Music Hall of Fame, or visit Nudie’s Honky Tonk bar in Nashville, where they have many of his suits on display, along with one of his custom cars!
photo of Nudie Cohen by Raeanne Rubenstein borrowed from here.
My Dad was in a country-western band while I was growing up, and while he didn’t wear Nudie suits, he did have fancy Western shirts, ties, and white Chelsea boots that I loved (and wish I still had). We also watched Hee Haw growing up, and I was always drawn to those guest stars with the rhinestones and fringe. These days, I’m obsessed with both Dolly Parton and Brandi Carlile, two female Nudie Suit lovers. In fact, I have thought for a long time about recreating one of Dolly’s iconic outfits translated for a man… maybe next year? I am really looking forward to Dolly’s new book Behind the Seams: My Life in Rhinestones! Anyway…now we have our inspiration.
Getting a Base Color I didn’t have enough time to construct and tailor a suit from scratch, and I wasn’t going to use one of my suits, so I went to the internet to find a (relatively) cheap suit in a deep, saturated color. While orange would have been an obvious choice for a Halloween-themed Nudie suit (again, maybe next year?), and my research had shown Nudie suits in mustard yellow, white, hot pink, gold, and black, I was drawn to a deep Royal Blue for my base suit.
King of Shreds and Patches While I have some very basic embroidery stiches on my sewing machine I’ve used to embellish some of my other booth outfits, and my good friend has a proper embroidery machine, I knew that there wasn’t enough time to make sure it was done properly, so I decided that I would use off-the-shelf iron-on embroidered patches to achieve the right look. The only problem was: what theme?!? Vintage Nudie Suites had cohesive themes – music notes, cowboys, wagons, fire, gambling, even marijuana. I scrolled for hours through hundreds of patches online looking for inspiration. When the suit arrived, I tried it on and envisioned myself covered in patches and rhinestones. I already felt like a peacock.
Aha!
I immediately narrowed my search and grabbed as many different sizes and styles of peacock and peacock feather patches. I also grabbed some elaborate phoenix embroidery pieces and patches of other colorful birds. I bought anything that was a showy, colorful flying creature. I went to Joann’s Fabrics and Crafts and scoured the shelves for more, picking-up some flowered vines and some beautiful moths and butterflies in different colors and sizes. I even picked-up some patches that would be hidden from view. There is a small patch that says “a lil’ bougie” that I put on the left butt cheek of the pants (cheeky!) and “IT IS WHAT IT IS” on the inside of the jacket. During my brother’s time in hospice, his passing, and while we were dealing with travel issues, this last phrase was my go-to response when someone asked how I was doing or how I was coping. I know it’s there against my heart and it reminds me of the inspiration for the suit when I see it.
When I felt like I had more than enough patches, I laid the suit out and started playing with the placement until I was happy with it. When I asked a few friends for advice, I was told “More is always better,” so I got to work ironing and gluing all of the patches on.
One Can Never Have Too Many Shoes or Hats While the suit was coming together, I knew there was one hurdle that still loomed ahead. Here in Massachusetts, there are not a lot of call for Western clothiers. I have a large head and pretty wide feet, so ordering a cowboy hat or boots online frightened me, especially with the limited time. I didn’t want to have multiple rounds of purchase -> ship -> try on -> return -> repeat. Thankfully, I found a Boot Barn about 75 minutes away just over the border in New Hampshire, and I had one day that I enough free time to drive up and try things on.
I bought the first pair of boots I tried on. They were the ones I was looking for, they came in wide, and they were so comfortable! The same with the hat. Both are a silvery gray color. White hats and boots aren’t truly stark white and would clash with the bright white of some of the patch edges, and I thought black was too somber or had too many bad connotations. I was done shopping in less than 15 minutes, but that 2.5 hour round trip was well worth my peace-of-mind. On the drive up, I had the thought that I should probably look for a flashy belt buckle while I was in the store, as it was something I hadn’t yet planned for. When we walked in the door, my husband turned to me and said “Why don’t you already own that?” walking over to a rack of women’s belts hanging just opposite and pointing to a belt that was ENTIRELY crusted in rhinestones. I obviously bought it and it is the perfect addition to the suit, as was the fancy white Western shirt with pearl buttons I picked-up.
It’s Hard to be a Diamond in a Rhinestone World As I mentioned before, I’m always trying to learn new techniques, so I look for those opportunities when picking a project. My foray into adding rhinestones to anything was very limited. I quickly learned how to apply hotfix rhinestones a few years ago when my friend asked me to decorate her chemo bag with a purple tiara, and I do own a Bedazzler, though I don’t think I’ve every really used it. Hotfix rhinestones come with a glue already applied to their flat side. You use a special tool, like a wood burning or soldering iron, to press and heat the stone, melting the glue into the weave of the fabric to adhere it. Real Nudie Suits had hand-sewn stones or were typically fastened onto the garment by a pronged setting from the back side of the fabric, like the Bedazzler does. Since all of my patches were affixed with an iron, and because I was putting the stones on an already-constructed garment, I went with hotfix. They may not last forever, but that is OK.
Finishing Touches Once the patches and rhinestones were set, something was missing. I went back to the source material to try to find what I had missed. In many Nudie Suits, the pockets, lapels, and cuffs are usually trimmed in a contrasting color. With such a richly colored suit, it helps to make these elements pop, rather than blend in, especially on stage, where they were meant to be seen. I found some white satin piping and edged the lapel and the two flap pockets on the jacket. With the white shirt underneath in the front and the white edging on some of the patches on the back, this really brought everything together better than I could have hoped.
I had a hard time choosing whether to have the shirt open at the neck or wear a cravat or a bolo tie. In doing my rhinestone accessory shopping, I came across this rhinestone rope meant to be a hoodie string replacement, and decided to make my own ridiculous rhinestone bolo tie. I grabbed a brooch that looked thematic, glued it to a bolo slide blank, and voila!
For the hat, I found a trim at Joann’s that I stuck on top of the existing band, and secured it with a phoenix brooch from my collection, bringing a little bit of color and theme up to the hat.
For flair (too late!), I sprayed my “Ask Me I’m a Local” button with glitter and glued some extra rhinestones around the edge and added the most important accessory: the rhinestone blue ribbon brooch in remembrance of my brother and his battle with Colon Cancer.
The Reveal Do you feel like you’re on a baking site scrolling forever through someone’s ramblings and ads when all you wanted was a recipe?!? Sorry. If you’ve made it this far (or just scrolled through pictures), here is the payoff:
I am so happy with how this turned out. I had a vague idea of what it should be, but not a clear design. This is the first time I felt like I was winging-it and designing as I was going. It was freeing, in a way, but also frightening. I second-guessed a lot of my gut reactions and that delayed the process. I was having trouble committing to designs and layouts because I was afraid of messing it up. If I had sat down and drawn-out a fully-fleshed-out design before getting started (as I usually do), it would have been less stressful, and I wouldn’t have bought so many extra patches and stones!
I now have a custom Nudie-style suit and an itch in my soul to bedazzle everything I own…
In junior high school, I had typing class. There was a special classroom fitted with desks holding electric typewriters. Not word processors (my college essays were written on), but electric typewriters, with ink, paper, and satisfyingly clunky keyboards. On holidays, we made typography ‘artwork’ by following instructions (55 “X”, Return, 30 spaces, 57 “m”, etc) that, when finished, created a picture made of letters and symbols. I ended-up Valedictorian of my graduating class (#humblebrag), but typing and gym were my worse subjects by far. The typing teacher would put a piece of paper covering my hands so I couldn’t see what I was typing. I had to rely on the hand placement around ASDF JKL: and ‘feel’ my way to the other letters without peeking. I cheated more than I should have, and regretted it later in life. Today (34 years later), I’m more proficient and can type quite quickly without looking. I wonder what my speed is (remember Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing)? Maybe I could be a stenog!
“Speed Test” from the original Broadway cast of Thoroughly Modern Millie
When we moved up to the high school, there was a “computer lab” full of Apple IIe desktops with files and files of floppy disks (the actually floppy 8 inch ones – do you know how you keep them from being written over? you cut a notch in the side of them…). These machines were relatively new, but just at the end of their lifecycle. The screens were black and green, and the MS-DOS game of Math Rabbit required several floppy disks to be inserted to play. I remember a full screen of ‘code’ just for the machine to draw a square (<run>). By the time I was a senior, I was writing essays and term papers on a Brother Word Processor that looked a lot like the electronic typewriters of years before, but I could type and edit an entire page on a one-line green and black screen before it typed on the paper. It saved on ink and white-out, but today’s kids would have had a very hard time with it.
The World Wide Web went public in 1993, while I was graduating. My small town library didn’t have internet, and neither did the school. When I went to college, there was a more sophisticated computer lab, but you had to sign-up for time to use the computers attached to the World Wide Web, and you had to pay per minute of usage. By junior year (1995-1996), we had email, and all of the machines in the lab were connected to the internet. I remember printing out (on a dot-matrix printer) email from my college boyfriend. Personal computers were extremely expensive. I didn’t have my own until the 2000s.
If you followed-along on my post about my job experiences, the internet didn’t really change my life until I worked at the touring theatre production company. Out of college, I ran a dinner theatre. We didn’t have internet, we had tap dancing! I wasn’t even able to use the internet to find the touring production job. I saw it in the newspaper (in print!) and mailed (by post!) my application for the job. Then they called me on a landline (!!!) to set-up an interview. This all seems SO CRAZY when I’m writing it, but that’s how it was. I didn’t have my first cell phone until 1998!
Anyway, the next job was for a touring theatrical production company based in downtown Boston. There was a Cellular One store two doors down (later CingularOne, then AT&T), and on a lunch break I went an purchased my first Nokia phone (indestructible!) with the number I still have 25 years later. I still didn’t have internet. The phone made and received calls, and could keep my calendar. While we had computers at our desks, they ran DOS in a closed system that tracked reservations and ticket sales. After a year of being in the office, I discovered there was one computer in the corner of the office connected to the internet (dial-up). The owner had set it up because someone told her it was important, but no one used it. One day, she asked if I knew how to use this “web” thing. I went in every chance I got to look for discounted show tickets, travel deals, and venue research for her. A year later, they gave us email and connected all of our CPUs to the internet. They gave us a day to ‘get used to’ to internet and to play around. Our office manager, a longtime user of newspaper personal ads, found the online ads and loudly proclaimed; “They have ones for you!” As a gay single man in an office of young straight females, I was suddenly the center of attention as they all crowded around my computer to see what the gay ones looked like. I don’t know if you’ve experienced Yahoo personals in 1999, but they were…specific… and graphic. After 2 or 3 “Daddy looking for a pig bottom” and “CD for a…” they all ran away. I looked at a few more and one popped-out at me:
Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death
Auntie Mame
A quote from Auntie Mame? My favorite movie of ALL TIME?! Then it went on to say that they were looking for gay friends, wanting to explore the city, etc. I was living, at the time, in South Boston with three straight single women. Every night it was Will & Grace & Grace & Grace. If we went to a club or a party, they got free drinks from sleazy guys wanting to get with them, then I was the ‘boyfriend’ at the end of the night if they didn’t want to take them home. Sometimes they would all come home with someone, but I was always alone. Though the ad said “looking for 25 and older,” and I was technically months away from 25, I wrote to him, which started a months-long correspondence.
SPOILER ALERT: That man and I are celebrating the 24th anniversary of our first date later this year, and just celebrated 9 years of marriage.
There have been dark times brought about in my life because of the internet, but since I would not have the life I have now without it, I can forgive those moments. I use it almost constantly for work and for personal use, and you are using it right now to read this story. How insane is that?
You say “Jack-of-all-trades (master of none).” I prefer “Renaissance man.” One is a cut, the other a compliment (of a sort).
I started my work experience at the age of 15. After many years of obsessing over every movie musical that came on television, or I could get at the video store (we are talking 1989 here), I decided it was time to take tap dancing lessons. The local dance studio was only a mile from home, near my Aunt’s house. At the time, a family friend, her daughter, and my cousin all had 2-year old toddlers (yes, one was the uncle to the other, it was a surprise to everyone!). The grandmother/mother of two of them lived 2 doors from my Aunt. I became babysitter to one of them on several afternoons and all three once a week. I used that money to enroll in classes down the street. From this, I learned patience, entertaining a tough audience, perseverance, conflict management, and how to care for another human being.
At 16, I started work at a family-owned small convenience store and deli. Looking back, I cherish the time spent there. It was truly being in a second family, I got to know the regulars, I learned valuable skills in retail, point-of-sale, merchandising, cooking, customer service, time management, and working as a team. For some reason, this small store became a central hub for Swedish and Scandinavian specialties, especially at Christmas. The owners were not Scandinavian, but they embraced this niche. We sold lutefisk (frozen, I called them porcelain fish for the sound they made when they hit the counter), made spice bags for Glogg, sold Cardamom braids (yum!!!) and Lingonberries, and made Swedish meatballs decades before IKEA made it to Massachusetts. We were so busy that former employees would come in to help during the season, making it even more of a family reunion party atmosphere. The store has been gone for many years, but a few of us still wax nostalgic at the joy we feel when smelling cardamom when it gets close to the holidays, or we think of stealing cookie dough from the freezer.
The summer before I left for college, I joined the Avon Parks & Recreation Department as a counselor at the day camp run on the high school grounds. It was free for residents and included open play, crafts, and sports for most of the day on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, with paid field trips on Tuesdays and Thursdays for certain age groups. Building on my babysitting skills, I honed patience, entertaining a tough audience, perseverance, conflict management, crafting, pedagogy, security in crowds, and emotional support/encouragement. The kids were 6-16 years old, and in this day and age, I can’t imagine them being left in the care of semi-untrained teenagers and young adults.
In college, I held two very different positions. For the first 2 years, I was a “Script Librarian.” We had a closet full of theatre scripts with a very small desk in it. Students could come and borrow and script, or set of scripts, for use in their classes or performances. I sat there and catalogued, itemized, and tracked them all. The copious amounts of downtime gave me ample opportunity to read through most of them, which came in handy when I was advising younger students on where to find an audition monologue or scene to stage. For my last 2 years, I was a “Safety Escort.” <hold for snickering> My college had a “boozer cruiser” – a 10-passenger van that drove students around the campus at night for free. You would call the dispatch (a lonely room in the campus police building) and the van would drive you wherever you needed to go on campus. Driving around was fun, because you got to be out and interacting with other students (even if they were drunk or high). It was always entertaining. Being in the dispatch office was creepy and lonely, but that’s when I could practice lines or dance steps. Being a theatre major, I had a lot of late nights rehearsing, then I would pick-up the 12-4am shift. When I was in the dispatch office, someone would call at 2am and I would answer the phone in a husky, sleep-deprived, sung-too-much-in-rehearsal bass: “Safety Escort, how may I assist you?” More than once, I had a drunk student (both sexes) purr at me and ask if I was the one picking them up. From this job, I further developed customer service, conversing with strangers, safe driving, dealing with difficult customers, how to save a drunk girl from getting into a dangerous situation, and using humor to diffuse tense situations. I relished the alone time in the van between pickups and at the dispatch office, but also the constant entertainment of the customers in the van.
For the summers between my Freshman and Junior years, I was a Meter Reader for Bay State Gas (now National Grid). My father worked there for over 40 years before he retired. I enjoyed commuting with him, and getting to know his colleagues those summers. Typically, the full-time readers would give us the worst routes, or a collection of unattainable readings over several routes (basically the sh1t jobs). Most of the time, I dealt with basements filled with dog poop, possible crack dens, lousy neighborhoods, and belligerent homeowners. Once in awhile, I would get one of the coastal towns of Scituate, Hingham, or Hull, where you walked along the beach to read the meters of cottages. Those were the best days. I remember reading the meter at La Salette Shrine one day, and sitting in the parking lot to eat my lunch. All of a sudden, a priest opens the passenger door and gets in, saying: “Hello my son, would you take me to the store?” This was strictly forbidden in the company truck (natural gas powered, of course), but I was raised Catholic and convinced my Mother would somehow know if I refused, so I took him on his errand. From this job, I explored a lot of the South Shore of Massachusetts, learned to deal with difficult people, to navigate the bureaucracy of a large corporation, that summer help are slaves, that unions are great, but sometimes protect those that shouldn’t be there, how to survive walking miles in the summer heat, how to cheat by saying you couldn’t get into a house that creeped you our or made you feel unsafe, and gave me an appreciation of all my Father did to take care of us.
Between Junior and Senior year, I attended a summer stock cattle call audition. Several local and regional troupes attended and made offers based on one 90-second song audition. I had some less than favorable offers, but was determined not to work at the Gas Company again. After turning down a troupe that paid nothing, a friend of my roommate called to say her friend needed guys that could dance. I drove out to Scituate (one of my favorite routes for meter reading) and auditioned for Showstoppers Dinner Theatre. Doug, the owner, producer, and sole employee, asked me to do a time step and sing a bit of a song, then hired me on the spot to be a sailor in Anything Goes. We would rehearse for 3 weeks and have 4 weeks of performances. During the first rehearsal in an unairconditioned church hall, we learned the choreography for the 88 counts of 8 that made the big dance number of the title song. That show kicked my ass and I lost all body fat and leaned-down to the best shape I’ve ever been in. Halfway through the run, I found out that 2 of the ensemble were here from Ithaca and that Doug had found them a place to live and a part-time job. I told him I needed a job, so he hired me to assist him for the rest of the summer. I painted and constructed sets, pulled costumes from storage, cleaned dressing rooms, worked in the box office, coordinated meal orders with the kitchen, acted as maitre’d, host, bus boy, and greeter, tour bus coordinator, usher, prop master, and sound and light engineer. On top of that, I was rehearsing and performing in every show. I was there at 8am every day and leaving at 2am most days. I was in heaven and I miss it so. The pay was below minimum wage, but I didn’t care. I assisted with choreography and vocal rehearsal for a children’s summer production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat while also performing 3 of the adult roles and running spot light and front of house. I co-developed and ran an after-school program for kids in one of the local schools and still performed in 2 productions and a tours to New Hampshire, Colorado and Florida while still attending my senior year of college, and when I graduated, Doug made me Associate Producer full-time, where I ran most things on my own so he could spend time with his family, assisted with another summer kids production (this time only with one dance number to fill-in for), more after school programs, and more tours. At the dinner theatre, I would sell the tickets, greet the guests, seat them, bus tables, change into my costume, perform, change back to my suit to work the dessert course during intermission, go back to costume to perform the second act, then back into the suit to escort the guests out, or perform in the post-show cabaret in the lounge. The lessons learned here were myriad, and it would take too long to list them. Work ethics, loving what you do and doing it well, having fun while you work, building relationships with colleagues and customers, and hard work were the cornerstones. It was exhausting, exhilarating, and the most fun I’ve ever had in a job before or since. I was overpaid and underworked and I would do it again in a heartbeat.
After 2 years there full-time, Doug moved us to a new restaurant partner in a new location. Unfortunately, after less than a year, they stole money from us, locked us out of our theatre, and thus started a legal battle. I was out of a job while they went to court, so I went looking for something, anything in the arts. I landed at a theatre production company in Boston. Well-established in the educational theatre space, they specialized in producing touring theatrical productions geared toward middle and high school students. We offered them shows that included 5 short stories of American classics dramatized with a cast of 5 actors, full sound, lights and sets. My initial job was to contact and coordinate the technical and financial specs of the theaters and halls across the country to build the tours. I was there for about a year (2 seasons) when I was recruited to move up to assist the Artistic Director. In that role, I coordinated casting calls in NYC, Chicago and Boston, worked with the Producer on hiring the actors, negotiated contracts and temporary housing, scheduling rehearsals and playing referee/translator between the Producer and Artistic Director whose relationship was well established, yet strained and complicated. At the heart of the entrance to the office and the bullpen of reservationists, I was the de facto receptionist, back-up reservation coordinator, and back-up assistant to the Producer/Owner/Founder. Aa Tony-winning Broadway producer, she was difficult and not easy to please. Handling the two strong energies between them, and handling everything she threw at me, gained me a status that granted me a lot of perks and a lot of extra responsibility (with none of the compensation). She went through 4 personal assistants during the 7 years I was there. During that time, I was the backup assistant, and guided each of the new assistants through their training and pitfalls, called during vacations for inane tasks that could have been handled by her assistant, sitting in the car so her nanny could come use the bathroom without parking the car or waking the baby, screening calls she didn’t want to take – you’ve all seen Devil Wears Prada – it was similar. From this job, I learned how to deal with difficult people, how to deal with celebrities, copyediting scripts, the politics or Broadway, dealing with egos, dealing with actors, dealing with stagehands, dealing with Teamsters, booking travel, booking and re-booking discounts for millionaires when you can’t afford to eat… and the list goes on. I did get to see a lot of free shows in Boston, and made friends with a lot of the local critics and producers, but in the end, the tension and working environment was toxic and it had to end. I still talk to other ‘survivors’ of our time there.
After asking me to do something she had no right to ask, then firing me for mentioning this to her, then trying to take away my unemployment benefits (she lost, and tried and failed the same thing with everyone since then), I landed a job at a music booking agency because of the very skills I learned from the last job. This agency specialized in Jazz and World Music artists. They were well established in the US, and had a strong footing in Europe, though there were many boutique agencies in the US and Europe that they competed with. I was brought in to assist two female strong-willed agents that could not/would not work together in the same way – sound familiar? I was to assist them with their bookings and keep the peace/translate between them. Their styles were diametrically opposite and that exacerbated the disdain and frustration they felt with each other. It was toxic beyond toxic. They tried to play the outgoing assistant against each other and drove her away. Being well-versed in this behavior, I jumped in and kept it all afloat and sorted. After a year or two, one of them left (the nicer one, obviously), and I continued assisting the remaining one, eventually taking-over some of her territory as a junior agent. She was NOT happy about it and only relinquished the territories she didn’t want. When the owner gave me some of her “friends” (she thought that, they definitely did not) as clients, and they immediately warmed to me, she complained and demanded to take them back, giving me her other undesirables. I grew my territory and the owner gave me more and more responsibilities and territory. Her rough American pushy nature ruffled a lot of feathers in Europe, so many of her remaining clients preferred to talk to me to finish deals rather than listen to her “show me the money” demands. Artists’ managers called to talk to me when she wasn’t around. I was my own agent, but acting as her assistant because of her manner. She eventually screwed the owner by starting her own agency under his nose and stealing several clients. Suddenly, I was the only agent for Europe, Asia and Africa. We hired other agents that came and went, but over 11 years there, my territories shifted and changed to a rag tag disconnected collection of problematic areas. Wars, financial collapse, political upheaval, visa issues, and an aging clientele brought a steep decline to my carved-out territories. Having seniority (read: pay scale) and the worst-performing territories (read: low income) = a buyout to leave. Having been burned before, the owner’s stipulations included that I could not discuss my departure, and could not work in the industry for one year. I gladly accepted following one of the last shows I booked. Maybe one day I will tell that story here, and though the artist has passed on, there could still be implications if I made it public. Stay tuned…. From this job, the longest of my careers so far, I learned a lot about deceit, back-stabbing, pettiness, slavery (I was, literally, selling people), overpromising, and the Artist as a commodity (the finances of a world-renown jazz vocalist will break your heart when you work out what the contract pays vs. what she actually takes home vs. what her managers take home). It’s not all negative, I also learned a lot about contract language, copyright, international travel and visas, currency exchange, high-end performance technology, riders, working with difficult people, customer service (for buyers, performers and managers), conflict resolution, conflict mitigation, interpersonal relationships via phone, email, and in person, professional travel, trade conference presentation, marketing, sales, website and software design, and how to decompress/separate work from home life.
I started this blog during the transition from the agency to unemployment. I had received in the mail my first digital SLR camera on the same day I was bought-out, so my first post is a collection of photos I took trying out the features of the camera on my first day of unemployment. I stated at the beginning that I wasn’t sure what this would be, or where I would be going. Several of my Artists and Managers reached out to me to offer me positions and to ask my advice, and I had to tell them why I couldn’t. The truth was, I didn’t want to be in that world anymore. If I could tell you that last story, and you knew my family background, you’d understand. (Hint.)
After months of looking around for my third (5th?) career, I had an interview at Harvard Medical School that I had heard about from a friend (a former actor from the theatre company, actually). I had never considered academia – all of the positions I had been applying for were in the Arts, Event Planning and Customer Service. This job wasn’t a good fit for either of us, and both the interviewer and I knew it, but my husband happened to mention it to his colleague that I was there that day. His colleague’s wife worked in HR at MIT at the time, and asked why I hadn’t reached out to her. The truth is, I hadn’t thought of it. I thought I wanted non-profit in the arts, not in academia. While she had nothing for me, she suggested where I should look on the MIT campus. I landed at a very small office where…you guessed it… there were two strong women, slightly at-odds and not listening to each other, running the show. I met with the operations manager first, who grilled me on what I did and didn’t know. She brought me in to meet with the Executive Director, who loudly proclaimed “I don’t know why I’m meeting with this guy!” from her office (within earshot) only moments before sitting down to interview me. I was not hopeful, but after a month of silence, they offered me the job (after their first choices didn’t work out, I later found out). The HR manager, in my offer call, asked if I had any concerns. I told her that I was concerned that I’d be the stupidest one in the room. She assured me that the entire Institute was run by former theatre majors keeping the smart people running, and that I was desperately needed. I’ve been at this job for 6.5 years now, the longest of any of my colleagues besides my boss. She has since drastically changed her view of me from that first meeting to constantly proclaiming: “what would I do without you?!” While I did not have domain expertise (the US Healthcare System and all its flaws), I have had to tap into and hone nearly all of my previously learned skills of customer service, time management, working as a team, navigating bureaucracy, patience,resiliencecopyediting, contract language, copyright, travel, working with difficult people, customer service, conflict resolution, conflict mitigation, interpersonal relationships via phone, email, and in person, trade conference presentation, marketing, sales, website and software design. To that, I used my theatrical production skills for event planning, event material production, front-of-house management, A/V needs, and run-of-show planning for our highly complex multi-dimensional workshops. I also have become proficient in PowerPoint, as it is a tool used daily in our work, The domain content is slowly seeping in, but only enough to keep me from not being completely lost in conversations. I know the history, the players, and where all the bodies (files) are buried, so I’ve also become a repository of the things that may have fallen through the cracks.
Things are constantly changing in this job. I don’t know which previous experience gave me the ability to nimbly switch from one topic to another, or to completely change course on a plan at the drop of a hat, but it’s there, because that is the nature of the position I’m in now. Was it babysitting toddlers? Was it the dozen-or-so positions I filled every day at the dinner theatre? Maybe it’s inherent in the non-linear path of my work life?
I know this is a rambling post, but the prompt intrigued me, especially when I looked back at the strange, seemingly disconnected path that lead me to where I am now. I hope you will take a moment to look back (or forward!) at your career path and see where your experiences can be knit together to make you the ideal candidate for any job you want, regardless of how the requirements of the position are worded. Translate your experience into skills needed for that job, especially if it’s not obvious from what they see in your CV.
Don’t overlook or devalue the highlights of life, Blind from the deep shadows of the darker times. Varying in magnitude, or existing in perfect balance, Cherish each crest and dip simply for being And celebrate your ability to experience it.
A stream-of-consciousness list of corresponding emotional points over the last 10 days (May 14-23, 2023):
Mother’s Day, this year, happened to coincide with the 4th anniversary of my Mother’s passing. We were coming home from a weekend away with friends and I chose to quietly honor her memory by myself and not remind others about it. I avoided social media and threw myself into sewing and cleaning once we got home.
After a routine colonoscopy discovered an aggressive form of colon cancer attacking my brother, he went in for surgery to have it removed one year ago today (May 23). The procedure took longer than anticipated, but, by all accounts, was successful and the surgeons were confident they removed all of the cancer. We were all hopeful and thankful. A few hours later, I received a phone call to tell me that he had not woken up from recovery and was non-responsive. He had suffered a massive stroke, but since he was in recovery from the surgery, they were not sure how long his brain had been without oxygen. When they revived him, the cancer care was put to the side while they focused on recovery from the stroke. Months and months of physical, speech and occupational therapy have both shown results and taken their toll, emotionally and financially. Last week, (the Wednesday after Mother’s Day) his PET scan showed that the cancer has metastasized to the lungs, stomach and pelvis. Stage 4. Terminal. We were all devastated. Within minutes, I had flights and a hotel in my cart and had talked to my boss, but his wife said that they would come up here to see as many people as possible, rather than having people come there. Whichever path he chooses going forward, I will respect it and celebrate his life while he is here to celebrate with.
Last Friday, I went to celebrate a friend’s birthday at Kowloon. We share a love of rum and mid-century pseudo-Polynesian Tiki kitsch, so I was excited to go, especially since the owners had recently announced they were looking to sell the iconic property to a developer and downsize the business to take-out only. It was a fun and wonderful evening, even when we acknowledged it was the anniversary of a friend’s passing 2 years earlier. She had passed very suddenly and unexpectedly, leaving her spouse and small child.
Saturday, I took part in a cabaret fundraiser for the local YMCA. We were raising money to assist children in attending their after school arts programs. It was a fun, “let’s put on a show” – Judy Garland & Andy Rooney kind of affair – a great distraction, and it was wonderful to be on stage again after so long. Our friend’s child takes part in this arts programming, and while it was wonderful to see his filmmaking, and to witness what an amazing, compassionate young man he is becoming, it made me sad to think of his mother not being there, and how he and his surviving parent must feel that emptiness in these situations so keenly.
Sunday, I volunteered for the first ever Salem Cat Scavenger Hunt. I walked around town (14,000+ steps!) assisting teams with hints when they were stuck on clues, and acted as a “bonus” item for anyone that took a picture with me in my cat shirt. Again, it was another welcome distraction from the emotional rollercoaster of the preceding days – this time without a sad undertone. Talking to visitors and hearing their perspectives and thoughts is what brings me back to doing this kind of volunteer work, and cat people (we have 2 now) are a . . . unique, passionate, and quirky group. It was a busy and tiring weekend!
Yesterday (Monday), my husband called me in the middle of the day – a rare occurrence, since he is a teacher and should have been in class. He, very calmly, said to me:
We just had an announcement that there is an active shooter on campus. We were told to ‘get down or get out.’ You never know how these things will go, so I was calling to tell you I love you. The students fled and I am gathering my stuff to leave.
When he hung up, my heart dropped into my stomach and I began to shake. I pulled his contact up on my screen and refreshed the location feature constantly. After 5 minutes of watching his locator not move from his office, I was frantic. He texted me to say that he couldn’t leave. He had tried to go down the stairs, but heard someone yell “Get down on the ground!” below, so he quietly walked back to his office, locked the door, and turned off the lights. For over an hour, neither of us knew what was going on. He was alone and isolated in a dark room with the potential of harm or death at any moment, his only connection to the outside world through text. I was alone in our condo trying to find news reports, waiting for texts from him, and updating the half dozen individual and group chats of friends that had heard about it. In the end, it was a hoax call (swatting) that escalated when a local officer’s gun went off in one of the school bathrooms accidentally. Suddenly, a few local policemen were joined by other town police, a SWAT team, and the State police. He was stuck in the dark office for over an hour while they swept every building, gathered everyone up and escorted them to a central location. We are both home today. He because classes were suspended to make time for counseling and planning; me because I want to be here when he needs to be hugged or needs to talk about it.
Perspective: I am (relatively) healthy. My husband is alive and by my side. I am lucky.
Connection: We have friends and family that care about us and that we care about. Shared experiences and interests can connect us, even if we are strangers.
Acceptance: Death is inevitable. Safety is never guaranteed. Life/plans/priorities can change in an instant. It can be caused by a medical test, a phone call, a decision made, or through the actions of others.
I helped 1,692 people out of the 30,619 reported in the booth. That’s 5.5%, though we had over 100 volunteers all season. Personally, I was disappointed in these totals compared to past years, but I guess it’s still a healthy amount.
One highlight of the season was that I was featured in one of the brochures! Right on the foldout map! Of COURSE I had to make sure that the Brave Little Tailor made it into rotation. Every time someone grabbed one of the small brochures, I would point out where the map was and hold the page up to the side of my face. I signed more than one autograph! Hahahaha.
This year, we were split across town. We had the Info Booth at the Salem Common with shifts of 2 inside and 2 outside, and a tent in Lappin Park (by the Bewitched Statue) with shifts of 2 people.
By the numbers – here are the visitors I helped per 2 hour shift: 10/2 – 186 10/2 – 164 10/9 – 218 10/15 – 165 10/16 – 189 10/17 – 446 10/22 – 116 10/23 – 268 10/29 – 213 10/30- 154 10/30 – 46 (Flooding rain!)
All total, I helped 2,165 people. That 446 on 10/17 was because I was alone at Lappin Park. The last shift of only 46 was due to a MONSOON of rain that flooded the common. Thankfully, I had planned ahead a few years before. In a reverse Murphy’s Law, the idea was that if I planned for a costume that could handle the rain, it would never rain! So I put together the Gorton’s Fisherman outfit in 2019 (I had a Gorton’s nametag and a fake fish finger box in my brochure bag). Finally, on the 30th, I wore it during the day shift (light rain) and then switched to the kid from the movie IT for the evening shift (flooding). I had a ton of people recognize the Gorton’s Fisherman and ask for photos, many of whom had family that worked there (they are based up in Gloucester, MA, a 20-minute drive north).
A big challenge this year was the weather. It seemed it was unseasonable warm every weekend. I pulled-out a lot of kilt-based costumes and lighter things like the Beetlejuice suit and the pirate for those shifts. And, of course, there was the issue of matching masks for each look:
The orange kilt outfit was new, based around a glow-in-the-dark Disney Halloween jacket. I found the bright orange kilt online, and added a few light-up slap bracelets (meant for nighttime runners) to add to my ankles, wrists, and bowler hat. That was a fund one for a night shift! A few of the old standbys (Herbology Professor and Salem Ambassador) made it into rotation, only because I had SO MANY shifts. Here, at the downswing in the pandemic, people were still wary of working with the public and putting themselves at risk. I was careful, and never got sick.
You will notice the COVID weight gain pushing the limits on some of these costumes… Let’s hope by the time next year comes around that that will have been fixed.
The Stevens-Coolidge House & Gardens in North Andover, MA is situated on a former farm that became a summer country estate in 1914 to one of Isabella Stewart Gardner‘s nephews, John Gardiner Coolidge, and his wife Helen Stevens-Coolidge. They vacationed and entertained at the estate until Helen’s death in 1962, when she bequeathed the house and the land to the Trustees, a non-profit that has been working for over 125 years to act as “a steward of distinctive and dynamic places of both historic and cultural value” across Massachusetts. Spring BloomFest is an annual celebration of the flowering of 165,000 tulips and various bulbs, ornamental trees, and other plants that come alive in April and May. Due to the pandemic, they had limited availability and were only allowing guests in who had purchased timed entries. I reserved our spots for today about a month ago in a member pre-sale. They are completely sold out (22 days, with 18-20 slots per day). At this early stage, the Hyacinths and Daffodils are blooming. We are told that the Tulips begin to open next weekend, so make your choice on what you want to see when making your reservation for next year. I hope you enjoy these photos:
On the way home, we also stopped into the Charles W. Ward Reservation, another Trustees property just a few miles south in Andover. We took the shortest trail that wound up the hill through some gorgeous old-growth forest to a grassy green opening (420 foot elevation) where you can see the Boston skyline 30 miles to the south. Having visited Stonehenge, the former owner of the land decided she needed her own stone compass to mark the sunrise and sunsets on the Summer and Winter Solstices as well as the Vernal and Autumnal Equinoxes. She also added Zodiac stones around the edge, many of them with ties to the local history. One of the stones is from the doorstep of a historic pub, there are two fossilized/petrified tree stumps, and several of them are local puddingstone. The center of the “compass” is an old granary grinding stone, whose etched curves mimic the sun.
South by South East
The “Solstice Stones” from the West
True North
Boston in the distance, 30 miles away to the South
Now, we leave the parks and go back to eating in the Deluxe resorts, recreating a fond memory in one of our favorite restaurants, and creating an epic 10-course meal that we’ve only ever dreamed of experiencing.
How perfect is this card?!
At the end of Part 4, we had dinner at the Hollywood Brown Derby on the second-to-last Friday night, and Sean received a card from Mickey on Saturday morning thanking him for his help in defeated Maleficent during Fantasmic! On Sunday, he received this (perfectly themed) card (right). Inside, it read:
Jambo! Please join Chuck, Mandy, and I for a cocktail at the Victoria Falls Lounge before we head downstairs for a delicious African-inspired dinner at Jiko: The Cooking Place. Shellie has the night off, but I’ll do my best to serve.
You will remember Chuck from Part 4, as she kept Sean company while I was preparing and presenting the 7-course Monsieur Paul dinner. Mandy is Chuck’s wife. When the four of us took a trip to Walt Disney World together in 2019, we stayed at Disney’s Animal Kingdom Lodge and dragged them to all of our favorite places. In fact, the card echoes exactly what we did on the day they arrived: we let them refresh in their room, then we all went to have a cocktail at the Victoria Falls Lounge before heading to dinner at Jiko.
“But wait,” astute observers may say, “who is Shellie?” For that, we need to take a side trip back in time:
“The Cooking Place” – Photo lovingly borrowed from TheMouseForLess.com
THE MEMORY It was June 2003 and we were staying at Disney’s Port Orleans Riverside on a fairly tight budget. Sean’s Mom and sister joined us for several days in the parks, and we wanted to take his Mom out for a special dinner as our trip came to a close. We had a Dining Plan, and had saved an extra dinner for her (or else we couldn’t have afforded it). We had read wonderful things about Jiko: The Cooking Place and thought that it would be a nice close to our trip and a new experience for all of us. When we arrived, they sat us at the heart of the restaurant, The Cooking Place that is in the title (see photo). The counter seats overlook two large brick ovens (the Jiko) as well as a wood grill and prep area. We had a cocktail and chatted with the chef making flatbreads in the ovens. The smells and the atmosphere were unlike anything we had experienced before, and we ordered the bread course from our waiter while we eagerly looked through the menu. We were having such a good time watching the dishes go by and reading all of the descriptions, that we were having some trouble deciding. We asked our waiter if there was a sommelier on duty that could help us navigate the extensive wine list while making our dinner choices. She immediately came over and helped Sean’s Mom and I with our choices. When it came Sean’s turn, he played his favorite game: closing the menu, he told her “I want the chef to pick out an appetizer, an entrée and a dessert for me, and I’d like you to pair a wine for each.” Her face split into a grin and her eyes sparkled as she snatched the menu out of his hands and dismissed our waiter, for we were now HERS! With only three questions (spice level? allergies? dislikes?), she was off. She would swing by our seats with our food and their perfectly-paired wines, explaining why she chose each one, and would check-in to make sure everyone was happy. When it came time for dessert, Sean’s Mom joined the fun and let the chef choose her dessert. I had my heart set on the chocolate selection, but asked her to pick an aperitif. She said “Amarula, definitely,” at which point the chef turned around and cooed “Ammmaaaarruuulllaaa” dreamily. This was our first introduction to that delicious South African cream liqueur, and our first introduction to Shellie – the Star of Jiko: The Cooking Place.
2003, after our first dinner with Shellie.
As with Monsieur Paul, Jiko is now one of our favorite restaurants to return to. Lucky for us, we have serendipitously been seated in Shellie’s section each time, including that first night with Chuck and Mandy in 2019, hence the reference in the card.
Unfortunately, like most of the Signature Dining locations at the resorts, Jiko was closed during the initial lockdown, and (as of the moment of publishing this) still has not reopened.
I felt bad that Mandy couldn’t join us for the Monsieur Paul dinner, but with dietary restrictions (Vegan with allergies), she literally couldn’t eat anything on that menu (and I wasn’t prepared to make an additional 7 dishes). When Jiko came up, I knew I could make it up to her.
My WDW Dining@Home Menu. This was printed on parchment-style paper. I found each of these items from existing online menus.
You can see from my version of the menu that the appetizer was already Vegan (minus the shortbread crumble), so I picked an entrée and dessert from the menus that could work well alongside what I had chosen for Sean. Since a Rib-Eye steak would be wasted on me, I was already making a substitution for my entrée, so what was one more?
I have learned throughout this process that when you deconstruct each plate into its component parts, there are often lots of things that can be prepared ahead to lessen the stress of the actual meal preparation. On the days leading up to, and especially the day before, I made the Braai spice, cauliflower bisque,brownies, berry sauce, coffee streusel, tomato-citrus jam (OMG! trust me when I tell you to make this and put it inside a grilled cheese sandwich!), panna cotta, candied pumpkin seeds, shortbread, toasted couscous salad, hibiscus glaze, and the Peri Peri sauce.
On the day of the dinner, all I had to do before dinner was to make rolls (I made sweet potato rolls and purchased gluten-free rolls and flatbreads to fill the basket), roast some cauliflower and carrots, marinate the chicken, make the Chantilly cream and prep the plates. On the TV in the living room, I turned on a slideshow of pictures we had taken at the Animal Kingdom Lodge, hit shuffle on my Spotify playlist created for the dinner, and welcomed our guests.
We reminisced over our 2019 trip and looked at old photos, including from our time at Jiko while enjoying pre-prandials.
Warm towel?
When it was time to sit at the table, I greeted everyone with a warm scented towel (wet a washcloth in water scented with a splash of orange blossom water, wring, then microwave) and Moroccan Mint Tea (sweetened green tea with spearmint), just as we were greeted when first seated at our table in the restaurant. Though we hadn’t been in the parks that day, the towel was such a wonderfully refreshing treat and the tea a wonderful palate cleanser to prepare us for the experience. These nearly-forgotten small touches really made the re-experience special.
The first course only needed to be warmed, garnished and presented. We had these lion-headed individual tureens that worked well:
For the entrées, the Vegan option has been simmering and cooking on the back of the stove since before they arrived, and using a large cast iron grill/griddle over two of my remaining stove burners, I was able to perfectly grill the steaks and chicken while the others enjoyed the bisque. The carrots finished roasting just in time, and the couscous salad was served cold.
Bo Kaap Malay Vegetable Curry: Tofu, Seasonal Vegetables in a Rich Coconut Curry Sauce, Brown RiceBone-in Grilled Rib-Eye with Hibiscus Glaze, Roasted Carrots, Toasted Couscous Salad
For the dessert course, I had already plated the Vegan Panna Cotta (with edible flowers and berries) and chilled it, so it came out during our appetizer so it wouldn’t be too cold. I warmed the berry sauce and poured it over just before presentation.
Coconut Milk Panna Cotta: Vanilla Bean Vegan Panna Cotta, Mixed Berries
I had prepared the other dessert plate ahead by placing berries, some of the sauce, and dollops of marshmallow fluff that I caramelized with a torch, so all I needed to do was warm the brownie, pour over the warmed berry sauce, sprinkle the coffee streusel, top with the Chantilly cream (which ‘broke’ and I ran out of cream, so I substituted vanilla ice cream at the last minute) and sprinkle a small bit of the leftover Braai spice over it. In a bit of inspiration (and because I had them on hand), I filled small pipettes with Amarula and stuck them in the brownie. We have a restaurant here in Salem that serves doughnuts with booze-filled pipettes to fill them with for brunch. The brownie had come out drier than I anticipated, so this also helped to add some moisture.
Braai Brownie: Dark Chocolate Brownie with Braai Spice, Milk Chocolate Chantilly, Coffee Streusel, Vanilla Marshmallow Cream, Raspberries
We finished the meal with a small glass of Amarula to sip. All-in-all, it was a successful night. I can’t wait to go back to the real Jiko: The Cooking Place again.
Looking at how long this post is becoming, perhaps I should have split these into their own posts. Thank you for sticking with me as we move from recreating fond memories, to creating a meal we have only ever dreamed of.
THE DREAM If you’ve been with me from the beginning of this series, you know what is coming next – the inspiration, the original gift idea, and the bankroll for the entire month: Victoria & Albert’s at The Grand Floridian Resort & Spa. I had scrimped and saved about $1200 US in extra cash over the two year planning of our original trip so that we could comfortably eat at Victoria & Albert’s without worrying about the bill. I used every bit of that extra money for this month long celebration to buy the ingredients for all eight meals (that’s 29 courses!), a table cloth, six cloth napkins, eight bottles of wine, twelve gifts (bought and handmade), four bouquets of flowers, and dozens of cards. I didn’t keep a tally of what the whole month cost, but when I was done, there was only ~$5 left, and I don’t remember dipping into any other sources. I wish I had documented all of the expenses. If I were to guess, Kona Cafe would have been the cheapest to recreate, and Victoria & Albert’s would definitely be the most expensive, given the number of ingredients I had to special order.
The beauty and draw of Victoria & Albert’s is not only the fine décor, the exceptional staff, and the AAA 5-diamond cuisine, but that the menu is constantly changing, especially at the Chef’s Table, where we would be eating (in actuality, we probably would have eaten in the dining room, but I took artistic license for logistical reasons – more below). This proved to be a challenge and a boon. While I could find the Chefs Degustation Tasting Menu from November 2019 on the official website (plus Vegetarian version), I also found posted menus from many guests before and after that date with completely different courses, and had many back-up ideas from menu items I didn’t pick for previous meals. using all of these sources, I came up with my own 10-course menu:
My WDW Dining@Home Menu – notice the staff…
For all of the other meals, I had devoted a page to each day of the month in a cheap composition notebook where I noted the card, note and gift, when applicable. I also used the daily pages to plan out my shopping and prep work for the week leading-up to each meal. For this one, I definitely needed extra planning, since I didn’t have extra hands. Once I had decided on the menu, I wrote out each course description on its own page, then I went back and filled-in the ingredients that were not listed in the descriptions, marking each as cold, hot, or room temperature. Finally, I went through and indicated which items could be prepared ahead, and which needed to be done during the dinner. This became my obsessive planning document for the weeks leading-up to the dinner. With pandemic protocols in full-swing, I ordered non-perishable specialty items 2 weeks ahead, and made out my shopping list with planned dates of order or pick-up depending on their delicacy or needed freshness. Specialty flours, chocolate, nuts, rice, gold leaf, salts and spices were ordered first. I went to the store three times for this meal where frozen items were purchased a week in advance, fruits and vegetables a few days ahead, and all proteins (and flowers) were purchased within 24 hours of the dinner.
As we got closer to the dinner, I realized two things: I needed to have this dinner happen in the kitchen, and I needed a run-of-show (a throwback to my theatre days that I still employ to this day for event planning).
Location: At Victoria & Albert’s, you can choose from one of three experiences: eating in the Dining Room (14 tables), the Queen Victoria Room (semi-private, seating 8), or the Chef’s Table (2-4 guests) adjacent to the kitchen. Since this was originally meant to be a romantic, celebratory dinner, I didn’t want to have anyone over (breaking tradition, I told Sean which restaurant was coming and he agreed), plus, the necessity and pacing of the menu (as I had planned it) would be difficult to pull-off without Sean sitting by himself in the dining room while I was in the kitchen. So I decided to change the plan to “Chef’s Table.” Just as with the real one, I would be talking with him while making the meals in front of him – the only difference from the real thing is that I’d be eating, too.
Run-Of-Show: With so many courses and so many small, fiddly bits of cooking and plating for each, I also needed to break-down the timing of everything. When we are having a regular dinner party (like with Jiko above), I always mentally plan-out the use of the oven and temperatures needed, the pots and pans needed, and the number of stovetop burners being used at one time. It’s also helpful to know how to time everything so that it is all done at the same time, so I sometimes have a sticky with times and temperatures that I refer to, to know when to throw the rolls in the oven, or to preheat it during dinner for the dessert, etc. I didn’t want anything to go wrong with these 10 courses, so I (of course) made a spreadsheet of all of the timing, and that became my run-of-show that night.
A glimpse at my run-of-show. These were for all of the items not pre-plated earlier in the day.
I kept Sean out of the kitchen all day as I laid-out the 10 different dishes I’d be using and started pre-plating what I could off to the side. I set the kitchen island up as the Chef’s Table with tablecloth, napkins, serving utensils, water and wine glasses, bread basket, and salts. One of the things not listed on the official menu that everyone comments on during their videos or reviews is the parade of breads and butters that come out between each meal. They are usually presented as quenelle, molded, or in crocks. I did not have the time nor wherewithal to create eight different breads and butters, so I had a basket of epi bread broken into individual baguettes and Kerrygold unsalted Irish butter in individual crocks. To mimic the variety, I purchased a set of sea salts and presented them on the table to flavor the butter.
The glass “bowls” are tealight holders from Ikea, and the small crystal spoon came from an antique crystal salt cellar
When all was ready, I started my Spotify playlist (a repeat of the Citrico’s playlist for pre-dinner cocktails, then blending into solo harp Disney covers) and called Sean in.
Maître d’hotel, waiter, chef, dishwasher and date. A friend gave me the retired nametag. Forgive the rolled sleeves (it was warm) and the bathroom door being open.
As with the Monsieur Paul dinner, the courses were chosen and arranged in such a way that “easy” courses bookended or lead into complicated ones. The first two courses were all made ahead, the third required a short stir fry, the fourth a bit more cooking, a sear on the fifth, a passive braise for the sixth, a sear on the seventh, sear and bake on the eighth, and the last two courses were completely pre-made. This sounds simple, but it was much more complicated than that. Let’s go course by course.
Tiny cake & ice cream for an Amuse-Bouche
Amuse-Bouche: Green Apple Baba with Sour Cream Ice Cream You may know Baba from Baba au rhum, or Rum Cake, a yeast-risen cake baked in a mold, then soaked in a hot rum syrup. For this one, I went with this recipe (which ended-up being super-delicious – when we recovered the next day, this was the first thing Sean wanted more of). I didn’t have the canelé molds typically used, so I baked it as a sheet cake and used a biscuit cutter to make individual cakes (hence the leftovers). I can’t find the exact recipe I used for the Sour Cream Ice cream, but there are a lot out there for you to find, especially on Keto sites. I do not have an ice cream maker, so I made the mixture and poured it into a quart sized zip top bag. I put the sealed quart bag into a larger gallon sized bag filled with ice and rock salt. I then shook shook shook it as I danced around the house. When the mixture started to thicken, I put the small bag in the freezer to firm-up. When the ice cream was firm, I used a small melon-baller scoop to create mini scoops and put them back in the freezer to firm. When it came time for dinner, I warmed the cake and topped it with the tiny ice cream ball.
We took this photo after eating the poached Quail egg. It was sitting where the knife is, with chopped parsley and cracked pepper on top.
Soft Poached Quail Egg with Wild Salmon Caviar, Chicken Liver Terrine, Cauliflower Panna Cotta, Porcini Mushroom Cappuccino I started with the Panna Cotta, confident in my skills after making the dessert version for Jiko. The terrine was purchased (I’m not that extra!), and I found wild salmon roe online. We had once been served Mushroom Cappuccino as an amuse-bouche at a little Bistro in Plymouth, MA that no longer exists, and I’ve often thought about trying to make it at home. I found this recipe, and it was just as I had remembered it, so silky smooth and delicious. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to poach an egg, but think of that on a micro scale. Quail eggs are absolutely tiny, and their thick shells need to be cut with a serrated knife. I used a very shallow, small pan and created a mini-whirlpool, then dropped the egg into the center so it would cook and stay in one piece. I made several and took them out with a slotted spoon to dip into an ice bath to stop their cooking. Then I put them on a wet plate and had them sitting ready to be warmed-through in simmering water when dinner came. When it came time to serve, all I needed to do was make sure the cappuccino was hot, warm-through the egg, and present it.
Gulf Shrimp with Heirloom Tomatoes and Charmoula Sauce
Gulf Shrimp with Heirloom Tomatoes and Charmoula Sauce Shrimp is something I just don’t enjoy, so this course was only for Sean. I made the Charmoula sauce the day before, but should have waited and made it fresh that day. It lost a lot of its color and vibrancy overnight. I found these tiny heirloom grape tomatoes in the store and they were perfect! I decided to peel them to showcase the color of the translucent flesh and to make them a more pleasant texture. To do this, you cut a small x in the skin and boil them for 30-45 seconds, then immerse them in an ice bath to stop the cooking. The skin peels off pretty easily. As with most of the things I made for this dinner, I planned for and made extra so that I could use the best looking elements for the final dish. I cooked the shrimp in butter with a little of the sauce in a shallow non-stick skillet, then poured a bit of the sauce over them. While Sean was eating this, I worked on the next course.
A deceptively small plate with a half-dollar sized scallop
Georges Bank Scallop with Herb-Truffle Spaetzle, Corn Puree, Oyster Mushrooms and Fruit Caviar This was a delicious course, and one I would love to scale-up for a dinner party. Though I hate shrimp (texture, smell and taste), I love scallops. If there is a delicious-sounding scallop dish on the menu, I will order it, especially if on vacation. I took a lot of artistic license on this one due to available ingredients. While the scallops were wild caught in the Atlantic, they were not labelled as being from Georges Bank, specifically. Also, the actual menu item specifies Lime caviar, which is made from the pips of the Finger Lime (unavailable in my area). Since I had Agar Agar powder left over from making the Vegan Panna Cotta for Jiko, I decided to try my hand at fruit caviar (the link is a video showing the steps, but use this recipe because you don’t need that much sugar). It was so much fun, and such a satisfying science project that I’m surprised I haven’t made more. I highly recommend trying it with your kids. I used cranberry juice and did not add sugar. It was the perfect tart counterbalance to the sweet corn and the butter. I’ve made spaetzle before, so I took the standard recipe and added a truffle salt and finely chopped fresh parsley, sage and thyme to the mixture before dropping it in ribbons through the large holes of my box grater. I made them the day before and put them in the refrigerator in a sealed container. The corn puree (cooked frozen corn and polenta, pureed together) was also prepared a day ahead and chilled. During the dinner, I sautéed the oyster mushrooms in a pan until slightly colored, added butter to the pan and did the same to the spaetzle, added much more butter to the pan and butter-poached the scallops until bronzed and tender. This is my favorite way to make scallops. Once the butter is foaming, place the (patted dry) scallops in and cook until brown on one side, flip them over and spoon the butter and juices over the scallops as the other side cooks. Depending on their size, this only takes a few minutes and it is a decadence worth giving in to. My other go-to scallop technique is to chop up cured chorizo and cook it in a relatively dry pan, then sear the scallops in the spicy paprika-scented oil that comes out (adding butter as needed, of course). This also goes well with a corn or pea side to balance the sweet and the heat.
Salmon, Bamboo Rice, Edamame
Wild Caught Alaskan Salmon with Bamboo Rice and Soy Beans This was another Sean-only course. I ordered the Bamboo Rice from Nuts.com (along with Almond flour & Chestnut flour) earlier in the month when I knew what specialty items I would need. While this is a very simple dish, I think its beauty lies in the color combination of the bright green edamame and rice contrasting with the deep, rich, sunset pink of the salmon. The rice was cooked according to the directions during the previous courses, and I steamed the frozen edamame in the microwave. The salmon was cooked in a high-heat skillet with just a thin layer of oil to prevent sticking. In hindsight, the piece I gave him was too big for such a large meal. In reality, this would have 1/3 of the amount of food presented on a giant plate. The salmon was of such quality, that Sean really wanted to eat all of it, but the sheer amount of food was starting to be too much, and we were only halfway through!
Poirot’s Endive (“I’m not French, I’m Belgian!”)
Braised Belgian Endive with Compressed Pear and Fennel This plate was taken from the Vegetarian tasting menu. I chose it because I thought it would be a nice break from all of the seafood, and would help transition to the upcoming poultry and meat dishes. The Braised Belgian Endive recipe was fairly simple, but yielded lovely, rich, complex flavors. The compressed pear gave me a hard time. In my research, compressing the pear gives it an almost meat-like texture and a concentrated flavor. The home chef can achieve this through a careful dance of vacuum sealing, freezing, re-vacuuming, defrosting, and vacuuming again. At the time (now rectified), we did not have a vacuum sealer, so I attempted to create these pears using zip top bags and a straw – literally becoming the vacuum and sucking the air out of the bag and quickly zipping it. Those bags are not as air-tight as they claim, so it was a constant game of checking and sucking. They were not perfect, but the thought and flavor were there. Since the pears and the endive were going to be so soft, I decided to finely shred a bulb of fennel to give a snap of flavor and a crunch to the dish. Now that we have a vacuum sealer, I may try compressing pears again, and I think the braised endive would make a lovely side. Again, I think at Victoria & Albert’s, this would be one half of an endive per person, or maybe even less.
I would have made duck, but we had that for the Brown Derby
Maple Glazed Quail with Chestnut Gnocchi I may have said this before, but there are a few things that I HAVE to order if they are on a menu. One of them is Gnocchi (others include Chicken-Under-a-Brick and Short Ribs), so this one made it on the menu for that, for the seasonal use of maple, and because I thought the delicate quail would be the right amount of food for a tasting menu. I found this chestnut gnocchi recipe, made the dough, formed them, and put them in the freezer. During the previous course, I boiled and drained them, then browned them in butter (like the spaetzle earlier) just before serving. I found the Quails in a Portuguese Deli nearby, though when I defrosted them, half of them had freezer burn, so they had probably been there a while. I split one of them in half and pan cooked them until the internal temp was around 145 F, then I deglazed the pan with a little brandy and apple cider vinegar, adding maple syrup and butter for the last 30 seconds as it reduced. I put the quail halves back in the sauce to coat, then served them alongside the gnocchi. The toasty, nutty gnocchi were interesting, but the quail was too gamey for my taste. I think the entire dish could have used some mushrooms or another depth of flavor since we had a lot of mushroom on the menu already. If I was in a restaurant, I would have butterflied/semi-deboned the quail and fried them, then put on the maple glaze, like a fancy tailgate chicken wing.
This is as far as we got in one sitting.
Grass Fed Filet Mignon with Creamy Mushroom Risotto, King Oyster Mushrooms and Parmesan Sauce When I make Sean a steak (or he makes one himself), he will often ask me to make mushroom risotto to go with it, so this was a “typical” item amongst all of the other courses. I’ve made risotto so many times over the years, that I don’t use a recipe any more, but it goes like this: rehydrate dried wild mushrooms in hot stock (chicken, beef or vegetable) with one bay leaf on the back burner while you heat olive oil and butter in a large pan. Sauté minced shallot and garlic until soft, but not colored, then add Arborio rice, stirring until it is all coated and until the edges start to turn translucent. Add splash of wine (or brandy, bourbon, stock, or even water) and stir to make sure nothing is sticking, letting any alcohol smell dissipate, then add a ladle of the stock from the back burner (just the stock, not the mushrooms) to the rice, stirring until almost all of the liquid is absorbed. Repeat one ladle at a time until the rice has absorbed as much as it can and is tender throughout (typically ~25-35 minutes, depending on the volume). Remove the rehydrated mushrooms from the stock, chop finely, and add to the risotto with pinch of salt and plenty of pepper to taste. This can stay covered, off-heat, on a warm stove until you are ready to serve. To reheat, add in a little liquid and turn on the heat, stirring until warmed through, then add grated Romano (or Parmesan) cheese to taste. Sometimes I sauté fresh chopped mushrooms and add those as well. The rehydrated mushrooms tend to be rather soft, so having the crisp sautéed fresh mushrooms contrasts nicely. Depending on what else you are serving, thyme, sage, parsley, and rosemary all love mushrooms. For the Oyster mushrooms, I roasted and pan fried the them like the scallops course. The filet was seared and finished in the cast iron skillet (see Part 3 Citrico’s) and came out perfectly. The only problem was that Sean was getting too full from all of the other courses, and though it was a petit filet, I should have cut it down further, or split it with him. The only thing I had never made for this course was the Parmesan sauce. I found several recipes that all seemed to be very similar, so I downsized the ratios and pre-made this sauce the day before. I warmed it in a small pan while the filet cooked, and spooned it over.
Selection of Cheese from the Market: Sparkenhoe Red Leicester, Blueberry Wensleydale, Organic Von Trapp Oma; Vanilla Gelato with Plum Compote and White Chocolate At this point, all of the live cooking was done. The problem was, so was Sean. While I had skipped the shrimp and salmon, and had only a bit of the filet, he had eaten everything, plus bread and butter, wine, and a cocktail beforehand. I had served too much food, and he could not eat any more at this point. I still presented each remaining course to him so he could experience everything and continue taking his pictures to post. In the restaurant, the cheese cart comes to you and you choose (or have the waiter choose) a few things to taste. I chose these three for taste, color, and texture variety, and paired them with a Bourbon Bacon jam, cherry preserves, honey in the comb, fig jam, and apricot preserves. What really confused me in all of the menus that I saw was the addition of the gelato with compote and chocolate alongside the cheese course, but it (or something similar) was there in every single menu that I found. Perhaps, like the cake and sour cream ice cream at the start, it was a palate cleanser. I made the plum compote and bought the vanilla gelato, making quenelles and freezing them. Not pictured were the white chocolate shavings I was planning to add to the top. We enjoyed the cheeses the next day, as well as the compote and gelato.
There has to be a showstopper dessert, even if you can’t stand to look at any more food.
Chocolate Mousse Dome on Praline Crunch At Victoria & Albert’s there is always a show-stopping dessert, plus selections of handmade chocolates (every video or review I have seen ends with the couple taking the chocolates in a box to go because they couldn’t eat any more), and the coffee service is a must. In reading the menu description, I interpreted it as a praline crunch cookie/wafer base, with a bittersweet chocolate dome filled with chocolate mousse inside, so that’s what I did. I started thinking that I would make a traditional Trianon Royal, omitting the dacquoise layer, but came up with my own instead. I made a sheet-pan sized thin layer of praline meringue (ground almonds and pecans, brown sugar, and egg whites) and set it aside to cool and dry. I lined a half sphere silicone mold with a thin layer of melted chocolate, then filled it with a rich homemade chocolate mousse and a dollop of caramel in the center and set it to chill. I carefully cut circles from the praline meringue to serve as a base. I tried to make a mirror glaze, but it wasn’t working, so I coated the domes in more bittersweet chocolate. This made a shell that made them too hard to eat, but they were still delicious. I took the leftover pieces of meringue and broke them into pieces and dust. I spread the leftover melted bittersweet chocolate on a piece of parchment and created thin shards. On a chilled plate, I spread melted milk chocolate and caramel in alternating dots, then placed the bittersweet chocolate shards standing up in them, covered the caramel with the meringue pieces and dust, placed the mousse dome on top of the meringue circle, dusted everything with powdered sugar, and then topped the dome with edible gold leaf. Though our eyes and stomachs were bulging, we did eat one of the extra domes I made before giving up entirely. Besides the issue with the hard chocolate shell, it was so decadent and delicious. We each had one on Sean’s actual birthday, and gave the rest away to friends because we had so much Baba in the freezer.
The remaining two days in Sean’s birthday month were quiet and we reflected a lot on the wonderful meals we had and I think that we may have succeeded in distracting him from the fact that we were not able to be in Walt Disney World celebrating his 50th in the way we planned.
LESSONS LEARNED
Do not expect that you can cook (or eat) a 10-course meal in just 2-3 hours. We should have made it a day-long affair, starting the first courses at lunch time and spreading them out to last through dinner time.
10-course meals are only possible if the volume of the 10 courses is equal to that of a very large 3 or 4 course meal.
Thorough planning is key.
Substitutions are acceptable, and sometimes better than the original.
You are limited only by your own self-imposed limits.
Conversely: You must set limits, or things can get out of hand.
Trust your instincts, but still do your research.
A white tablecloth and cloth napkins can transform your everyday meal to something special.
A well-presented and garnished plate turns a great meal into an amazing one.
Music, lighting, and table design should set the mood, but also complement the meal, like a well-chosen wine.
Life is too short to not use the crystal, silver, or china in your cupboards.
FINAL THOUGHTS
We are now (at the time of writing this) almost 7 months from the end of that month-long celebration. Going back to look through my notes, mine our memories, and find the pictures so I could write-up the background and process has been both bittersweet and revelatory. I remember and re-live the pain and struggle of watching Sean’s spirits sink deeper and deeper as the dates of our original trip came and went, as well as the self-induced stress of wracking my brain to come up with an appropriate, yet safe, celebration of this landmark birthday during a worldwide crisis. I don’t know where the spark of inspiration came from to embark on this journey, but I am profoundly grateful for it. I learned a great deal during this process about myself, about food, about planning and preparation, about presentation, about sacrifice, about limits, about perseverance, about pride, and about love.
I didn’t save anyone’s life, like the thousands of healthcare workers that risked their lives and sanity to help others during this pandemic. I didn’t climb Everest, or write a Nobel Prize-winning novel, or start a non-profit to bring clean water to a village, or cure Cancer. All I did was sacrifice my free time, my effort, and my savings account to create a unique birthday to remember for the man I cherish. I know that there are people that will read this (now, or long after I’m gone) that will find the whole thing vainglorious and cry “privilege.” Yes, I believe that we do hold a privilege that many others do not. On an almost daily basis, one or both of us can be found wandering around our home, dewy-eyed, remembering our poor, isolated, bullied younger selves dreaming of the impossible: a home full of love with a husband, a cadre of accepting friends and family, with food on the table and no wolf at the door.
Never give up, and never stop giving back.
Thank you for reading through these posts, and for joining us along this journey. I started this series just to document the experience, but I hope you have learned a new technique, laughed, or been inspired to try something new. I would love to hear your comments and your own stories or memories below.
In the spirit of never give up and never stop giving back, I offer these local and national charities* for your consideration and generosity:
For WDW Cast Members that have lost their jobs, please consider giving to the Cast Member Pantry. They have also created this Google doc with a list of small businesses and “side hustles” that furloughed/laid-off cast members are undertaking to keep financially afloat – please consider purchasing directly from a former CM.
*I receive no kickback or recognition for your donations through these links, but this list includes many of the charities Sean and I have given back to in 2020 and 2021 so far. If you do donate, please leave a comment below so I can thank you.
The Monday after Kona Café was Labor Day here in the U.S, and the card Sean received that morning had a drawing of a TV on it, and the message that we should relax and watch a movie marathon of his choice. For me, it was truly a day off, as I did not do any prep for the coming weekend.
Tuesday included a gift: a desk organizer (insert snoring noises). I hate giving practical gifts, but this was on his wish list and he really needed it. The card was a piece of Ursula stationary sarcastically lauding this “exciting” gift, that was obviously needed, since he didn’t have 8 tentacles to help him file. Tuesday began my prep, which mostly consisted of an Instacart order of the fresh ingredients I needed. But wait – I haven’t revealed what Friday would bring:
As I mentioned last time, when planning a WDW vacation, we tend to book the Signature Dining ADRs first, and then work our parks schedule around when we can get in. Hands down, the first in-park restaurant we book is always Monsieur Paul at Epcot World Showcase’s France Pavilion.
Some background: Sean LOVES French cuisine, and this restaurant has a very special place in our hearts. We took our first WDW trip together in 2001. It was not planned (that is, it was meticulously planned, but we ended up moving the reservation earlier due to unhappy circumstances, and cutting the time in half), but Sean had researched and researched places he had wanted to try. When we found ourselves on property (then known as Dixie Landings, now Disney’s Port Orleans Riverside), Sean was able to score a last-minute ADR for Chefs de France (now Monsieur Paul, named after Paul Bocuse). As with almost all of the land pavilions at Epcot, the front of house was staffed entirely with French nationals on a one-year visa. Before the restaurant’s redecoration and name change (a sad, but understandable business decision for a restaurant located in a theme park), Chefs de France had a fairly strict dress code (for inside a park where tank tops and shorts are necessary) and an atmosphere of high class and elegance. The night we first ate there, all of the waiters wore tuxedos (we were served by ridiculously handsome twins!), and the table service was beyond anything I had ever experienced. We found out that each was a career waiter at home and took their jobs seriously (something not common here in the U.S.). The service and food are still of the highest quality (we have been back MANY times), but it is now a more relaxed, ‘friendly’ and ‘accessible’ environment for families. It was the quiet, exclusive vibe of the original restaurant (you enter under a small arched sign through a door in the alley behind a large family-style bistro and climb a circular stair up to the restaurant, leaving the noise of the crowd for the hushed and dimly-lit oasis) that made it so unique, especially in the middle of a crowded theme park. Still, we try to always include it.
On that first trip, we were only able to book a late (8 or 8:30pm) seating. We made sure to leave enough time in our day to return to the resort to shower and dress before heading over to Epcot for dinner. The meal was amazing, and we were seated in a table by the window, so we were able to experience the color and spectacle (if not the heat, crowd, and noise) of Illuminations (RIP) though the frosted windows. We had a tight budget for all of our trip, but we also had a Deluxe Dining Plan, so we used it to our full advantage and each enjoyed our own amuse bouche (compliments of the chef), appetizer, entrée, and dessert (Side note: in the past, tip was included in the Dining Plan and was calculated on what you ordered – we often ordered more than we could eat and chose the most expensive items). We splurged on pre-prandial cocktails, and wine with the entrée (tipping accordingly), and the bread service and delicious butter kept coming. By the time we were finished, we were stuffed. Looking up from this amazing meal, we realized we were the last ones in the restaurant! We never once felt pressured or guilted into leaving, in fact, the staff seemed to love us enjoying this experience so much and brought us coffees and offered us chocolates. We waddled out of the restaurant “Merci”-ing everyone we passed and stepped out onto a magical scene. While we were eating, the park had closed. Staff at WDW are not allowed to “turn off the magic” while a guest is in the park. When we stepped out into the France pavilion, all of the lights, music, and atmosphere were still on, but there were no other guests in sight! We held hands and walked slowly from the pavilion towards the front gate. We know now that (even then) Disney knows where every guest is. The restaurant had let the front gate security know we were still there, so while crossing over the bridge from France to the United Kingdom, a very nice Cast Member pulled up in a golf cart and “offered” us a ride to the front of the park. We knew we couldn’t refuse, but he only took around the lagoon to Showcase Plaza and let us walk ourselves to the gate (maybe he was only a World Showcase security?). We continued walking hand-in-hand towards the gate when the Fountain of Nations (RIP) show started playing. We were the only people there, so it was a private show! As we stood and watched the water and lights dance to the music, two Cast Members came along and asked if we would take their picture. They were part of the College Program and they had just finished their last shift. We chatted with them as they reminisced, hugged and mugged for the camera, and we all floated towards the front gate. What an experience!! The entire evening is one I will never forget.
Wow. That was a lot of back story, but now you know how important it was that I included Monsieur Paul in my WDW Dining@Home experience. Back to planning.
While we have dined at Monsieur Paul many times, and ordered off the a la carte and three course prix fixe menus, one of the things we have not done was to order the Prix Fixe Degustation Tasting Menu, which is typically seven courses. Of COURSE I chose to recreate that! I found three menus online and combined them to create my own:
My WDW Dining@Home version. Note the price….that is based on what this menu cost in March 2020 before they shut-down. To not keep you in suspense, scroll through the slides below for each course. The opening slide is pre-prandials (before dinner drinks).
Glass Dumplings ready for the freezer
Table setting from ACTUAL Monsieur Paul – see my version at the top of the page.
Tuesday Prep: I made the Truffle Glass Dumplings for the 5th course. On that slide, you can see me rolling-out the potato flour dumpling skins (that’s what made them ‘glass’ dumplings – the skin goes translucent when steamed). I also created the white chocolate disks and the Brittany shortbread for the dessert, as well as the pepper cream for the chilled soup course (key to successful execution – see later).
Wednesday, I made and froze the snail butter balls that would be breaded and fried for the 2nd course on the night, and made the Green Apple Sorbet for the dessert course.
Thursday, I made and chilled the pear soup, I caramelized the apples and pre-scooped the apple sorbet and vanilla gelato into appropriate balls and froze them in a container for easy dessert prep, bought the cheeses, fish, rolls, and delicate garnishes that would have spoiled if I had bought them earlier, made the Chicken Veloute for the second course, breaded and chilled the escargot balls, made the leek fondue, created and baked the windowpane potato chips, and printed the menus. That morning, Sean had a gift of a notecard holder. In addition to his D&D reference cards, I hinted that he could use them to hold his tasting notes and restaurant reviews.
Friday, Sean received a card that said “Bonjour Darling!” on the front, and inside I invited him to join me in the France Pavilion, telling him to check the dress code and to not eat too much before arriving! I also revealed that he would have a guest at dinner: his best friend Chuck! Because I suspected that I would be preparing a lot of food between courses, I didn’t want Sean to have to sit in the dining room alone, so I had scaled the whole meal to three people from the beginning. I would be eating with them for each course, but I would also be jumping up from the table to make sure the next course was ready before they were done with the current course. I would also be the waiter refilling their glasses and offering bread service.
That day, I laid out every plate I was using for all the courses on the kitchen island in order of appearance. I sliced and arranged the fruits for the Napoleon of the first course (and chilled), boiled the potatoes for the second course, pre-set the beet salad for the third, ladled and chilled the pear soup in its bowl for the fourth, made the truffle cream for the fifth, plated and chilled the cheese course, and assembled the dessert in its glass. When Chuck arrived, we had drinks in the living room (see first slide photo – I mad a Martini and Manhattan to their specifications) and they chatted while French music played through the speakers and I ran to the kitchen to continue preparations. The dining room was set with white tablecloth and napkins (folded just as they were at Monsieur Paul), and nearly every utensil we owned.
This meal would truly not have been possible for one person to cook and serve without the meticulous planning and prep I had spent the time laying out. I had a master list of timings for each course and plate that I referred to constantly – when to take the plate out of the refrigerator so the cheese could warm to room temperature, when to change the oven setting, when to heat the oil, when to bring the second type of bread out, when to switch wines, etc. I can also say that the course order and choices also helped a great deal. If you look at how the courses are laid-out, only one or two things needed to be prepared during the dinner: First course: Cook the scallops – the rest of the dish was prepared ahead. Second course: Fry the escargot balls while the sauce and potatoes warm. Third course: Cook the fish – the rest of the dish was assembled earlier. Fourth course: Add the pepper cream and serve – this was the easiest! I highly recommend a cold soup or salad course! Fifth course: Cook the tenderloin while the dumplings steam and the fondue warms – because the previous course was mostly hands-off, I could boil the water for the steamer, heat the cast iron skillet and warm the leeks while we enjoyed the soup. Sixth course: Easiest! Just serve the already-prepared plate. Dessert: Warm the caramel sauce.
Speaking of dessert, I knew this was the one I wanted to do, especially since their other signature dessert is chocolate, and I already had two chocolate desserts in the month-long plan. When it was Chefs de France, the signature dessert was Crepes Suzette en Flambé. They would prepare it tableside and ignite the Grand Marnier-soaked dessert crepe in towering flames: VERY dramatic. This dessert is just as dramatic, and was delicious to boot. See the “spectacle” of the presentation here:
Recreating the Magic from Monsieur Paul (though I think my caramel was not warm enough, which is why “Mickey” didn’t melt faster)
The warm caramel, the velvety white chocolate, the tart apple sorbet, the creamy vanilla gelato, and the crisp shortbread soaking up all of it – this was SO MUCH BETTER than I dreamed it would be. I would make this again in a heartbeat.
Actually, I would make ANY of these courses again. This was my favorite of all of the meals that I prepared. I got to enjoy it all along with Sean, but I also got to share it with our friend and bask in her joy and smile at how all of my little touches were noticed, even though she had no idea what to expect. The two of them hadn’t researched all of the courses and seen the photos or videos of what they were supposed to look like, but I had. At the risk of boasting: This is the meal that I am the most proud of. If you have eaten anything on this menu, or image search for these items, you will see that my presentations were 96% (minus 4% for actual table wear) accurate. It also helped to have such an appreciative audience. Most importantly: I learned a lot. There were techniques, sauces, and flavor combinations that I had never attempted before, and now I can draw on them any time I want.
As you can imagine, this was the only recreated meal that weekend, but as the theme of this update is eating in the parks, I’m including the following Friday’s experience: The Hollywood Brown Derby at Disney’s Hollywood Studios.
This restaurant offers another in-park dining experience that feels more elegant than it should, given it’s surroundings. True to its inspiration and namesake, walking into this dining room makes you feel like you are stepping into old Hollywood. It’s a perfectly-themed experience in the Studios, and I feel like it’s overlooked by many guests who think it’s too ‘fancy.’ so they opt for the Hollywood & Vine buffet dinner with their family. I think this is a shame, because it’s the perfect opportunity to introduce children to fine/adult dining. There is a children’s menu, but it’s mainly child-sized versions of the regular menu, not pandering chicken nuggets and plain macaroni, and I think the atmosphere provides enough stimulation, but also brings a bit of seriousness that kids can sense that makes them behave in a different way.
Forgive my/Maleficent’s atrocious handwriting.
My WDW Dining@Home version of the menu.
In the week leading-up to this dinner, Sean received Captain America socks (Film/1940s style), and Nick & Nora glasses (glamorous Hollywood) as clues. On the day of the dinner, he received a note from Maleficent announcing our ADR and hinting at our post-dinner entertainment (Fantasmic!).
We have eaten here many times. Sci-Fi Dine In Theater is our go-to lunch spot, and the Tune-In Lounge/Dad’s Bar is our go-to cocktail spot, but The Hollywood Brown Derby is always our choice for dinner, and before the Star Wars Spectacular came to the Studios, the Fantasmic! dinner package was usually what we booked. If you reserved this package, the restaurant would give you a ticket (or update your MagicBand) after dinner to enter the Fantasmic! amphitheater through a special entrance for premium, reserved seating. After a day of standing in sweaty lines, it was well worth the early dinner seating.
My Cobb Salad. The server brings it to your table in this form, then mixes it for you tableside. I achieved the look by placing two cutting boards on top of the bowl to create a narrow channel to lay each ingredients down in its row.
My Duck Two Ways
There are two menu items that the Hollywood Brown Derby (both the original and the recreation) is famous for: Cobb Salad and Grapefruit Cake., so I knew I had to incorporate those two (even if the grapefruit cake is not our favorite). For the entrée, I went with one that I order there almost every visit: Duck Two Ways.
Finding recipes was pretty easy, but I had to look to find photos of past meals to recreate the look of WDW’s presentations.
Their Duck Two Ways has a Duck Confit Ravioli and Seared Duck Breast. I opted to make my ravioli from duck Foie Gras. It was decadent, to say the least. Sean adores getting Foie Gras at a restaurant when it is the actual seared liver, not a pate, so I created the ravioli with a small portion of a slice I found, and seared the rest of it for him for dinner the next day.
The accompaniments for the duck were a mystery. Nothing is listed on the real menu. I had to rely on my blurry photo and guess at what the red (cherry), yellow (butternut squash), and white (horseradish) dollops were. I already had the beet dust from another project, so I used that for the base. I’m not sure if those choices were correct, but they all worked beautifully together.
The Grapefruit Cake was exact to a photo I found online. It’s still not a favorite for either of us, but it was refreshing and unique. Making the garnish of the stained-glass-looking grapefruit slices was fiddly, and I made many that didn’t come out. You may have noticed on the menu that the Pink Grapefruit Sorbet was “optional.” I knew that all that grapefruit was a bit too much (it’s in every piece of this dish), but I found a pint of the sorbet at Wegman’s while I was buying the foie gras and specialty items for the next meal, so I thought I’d offer it.
My Grapefruit Cake
A thank you note from Mickey himself!
After dinner, we watched Fantasmic! and the next morning, Sean received a card from Mickey Mouse!
If you weren’t already aware, I hope you’ve now learned that eating in the parks is more than just grabbing a churro or turkey leg from a cart, or a platter of fried, beige food in a quick-service. There are many fine dining options in the parks, and we encourage you to explore them all for yourselves.
Next, we leave the parks and go back to eating in the Deluxe resorts, recreating a fond memory in one of our favorite restaurants, and creating an epic 10-course meal we’ve only ever dreamed of.
EDITOR’S NOTE: Sean just said “Well, we’ve never eaten ON the Monorail.” To which I countered: “We’ve never eaten ON Bay Lake either!” I was wrong, it seems, as he reminded me of two fireworks cruises we had with refreshments. Technically, one of those only cruised around on Seven Seas Lagoon, though… Anyway, you get my point. Both of these upcoming restaurant experiences are found on the Resort Loop Monorail line.
During the week between the meals of Part 2 and Part 3, Sean received a D23 Membership and the first delivery of weekly flowers (with the explanation they would be coming every Wednesday). On Thursday, he received the crystal cocktail mixing glass and cocktail spoon along with a piece of Haunted Mansion-inspired SHAG stationery with a note from some of our favorite characters (Frank & Sadie Doyle of the Thrilling Adventure Hour’s Beyond Belief) making puns about ‘spirits’ and hinting that he would need these things the next night. On Friday morning, he received an embossed gold card with a formal invitation to meet me in the lobby of the Grand Floridian (dressed appropriately) and to bring the glass and spoon so we could have cocktails while enjoying the pianist and Grand Floridian Society Orchestra before dinner at Citrico’s. When he got home from work, I had a playlist of 20 minutes solo piano followed by 20 minutes of the GFSO, followed by 20 minutes of solo piano again, to mimic the actual lobby. Taht played on repeat during dinner. I had also ordered white table linens that I used for this meal and each of the finer dining experiences following. This was also the first meal actually presented at the dining room table.
CITRICO’S If you were to look through all of the backlog of dining receipts we’ve accumulated from WDW restaurants, by sheer volume (though not cost), the most would be from Citrico’s at The Grand Floridian Resort & Spa. In fact, during one unbelievably magic trip staying in a one bedroom at the DVC Villas at Disney’s Grand Floridian Resort & Spa, we ended up eating at Citrico’s three times! When planning our trips, once the Signature Dining ADRs are made (Cinderella’s Table, Jiko, Monsieur Paul, Hollywood Brown Derby), Citrico’s is the next to be booked. And let’s not forget that, as I alluded to in Part 1, it was thinking about having a cocktail in the lobby of the Grand Floridian and listening to the Grand Floridian Society Orchestra while waiting for our Citrico’s ADR that inspired me to come up with this crazy idea of recreating his favorite dining experiences in the first place!
Sean has been watching over my shoulder as I write these up (hence the snarky comment about the title), so I asked him to explain why we eat at Citrico’s so often. “It’s classy, but comfortable,” he immediately answered. “There is no pretense. There are great views of the resort, the yard, the pool, families doing cartwheels on the lawn, and at certain tables you can see the Magic Kingdom Fireworks. The food is accessible. I mean that in the sense that the cuisine, the culture, the comfortable atmosphere, and the price are all accessible to both a family meal or as a romantic dinner.” I completely agree, and would add in that the delicious food brings us back time after time. I love the partially-open kitchen, and the friendly, knowledgeable staff. We have serendipitously been seated in Javier’s section 9 times out of 10, and he always picks the best wines to pair with our meals. He’s one of a handful of our favorite, recognizable servers, but there is only one we ask for by name (see Jiko in Part 5).
A customize Citrico’s menu Javier presented to us during our honeymoon trip in 2016.
My WDW Dining@Home version
In looking at the online menu, I chose the Pâté appetizer, the Plancha-seared Beef Filet, and the Warm Chocolate Banana Torte because Sean ordered that the last time we were there. Sean will eat anything (again: see Jiko in Part 5 for more on that), but I tend to only order chicken or duck or pasta or vegetarian options, though I usually end up ordering scallops at Citirco’s because they are always presented in some new amazing dish. Knowing I was including scallops in a future meal (and not wanting Sean to feel he was cheated out of them this time), I “ordered” the same and opted to have the “chef” (me) alter mine to be chicken.
Here is where the fun really started for me. If you search the internet for exactly what the menus says, you’re not going to find a single recipe. You’re going to have to piece it together.
A photo we took in 2016 of the appetizer at Citrico’s
APPETIZER Thanks again to the Cheese Shop of Salem, I found a delicious Pâté. Watercress was notoriously hard to find in the store, so those are miniature mustard greens. I repurposed the onion jam from the entrée for the onion confit, and being the way I am (the kids call it “extra” I think?), I made a enormous sheet pan of focaccia and broke-out the stovetop grill plate just so I could have half a dozen grilled slices on the plate. My version of the appetizer is pictured at the top of this post as the feature image. That solid white chocolate Mickey Mouse statue was a gift from the Concierge during our anniversary trip in 2018. We’ve kept it in plastic displayed on the kitchen counter since carefully taking it home on the plane. This was its first (but not last) use as a centerpiece. Also pictured: the first week’s flowers.
My version of Plancha-seared Beef Filet with pepper crust, potato puree, broccolini, cippolini jam, and bordelaise sauce
Citrico’s version of the filet plating
Entrée Sean LOVES steak, and is very particular about how it is cooked when ordering it at a restaurant. Since I don’t eat a lot of red meat, it’s not something we had at home that often. If he is craving a steak and we can’t go out to have it (hello quarantine!), then he tries to make one at home. I have watched him struggle with expensive cuts that get overcooked, or cheap cuts that don’t cook evenly. He’s tried everything, and always seems to be disappointed in the result, so I spent hours searching for every tip and trick I could find. In researching this menu, I learned that a Plancha is a super hot wide metal plate, like a griddle, but hotter. For those of you paying attention, this is where the first weekend’s Cast Iron Skillet earns its keep. This post has some great tips, and I trusted in the cut of meat (be nice to your Whole Foods butcher), getting the right heat on the cast iron skillet, and paying attention. He claims it was one of the best he’s had, and that it was perfectly cooked. We have repeated this several times now, and so we have a permanent sticky note on the side of the fridge that just says:
The Chicken version
3 min. then 1 min. 425o 6 min (130o) Rest 5 min
In a very hot cast iron skillet, sear the filet mignon for 3 minutes on one side, then 1 minute on the other, place the skillet in a preheated 425 F oven for 5-6 minutes (internal temp should be 130 F for Medium-rare, 140 for Medium (it will rise another 5-10 degrees), let rest for 5 minutes on a plate or board.
DESSERT Again, I had seen all of these meals presented in the actual restaurant, so plating them was easy, if not very memorable, so I knew I had to make a statement with the dessert. Thankfully, the one I chose is well documented online, as guests love to take photos of it, and I’ve had it in the restaurant.
A photo we took of the dessert at Citrico’s in 2018
My version
I wanted a rich, dense, brownie-like warm torte, so I turned to this recipe, making them ahead (slightly undercooked), then warming them while we were eating dinner. I also made the banana ice cream (just frozen bananas blended with a touch of rum, frozen, blended, frozen, and blended again for smooth texture), and several versions of the chocolate lattice during the week leading-up to the dinner. On the day of, I secured the lattice and graham cracker dust on the plate, caramelized the bananas (in butter and sugar on the stove top), pre-scooped the ice cream (and stuck back in the freezer), warmed the torte and the hot fudge, then assembled it all after were were done eating the entrée.
Looking at the picture, I’m slightly embarrassed how wonky the lattice looks. It is certain I am no chocolatier, but I tried. Also, my bananas were definitely more caramelized, and my banana ice cream was made from actual banana, not banana flavoring, so it would never be bright white like theirs. But Sean loved all of it, and really, that’s all that matters.
On Saturday, Sean got a note on another piece of SHAG stationery, this time Jungle Cruise-themed, inviting him to join me for breakfast the next morning.
KONA Café Full disclosure: I love all things Hawai’ian, Modern Tiki culture, and the mix that Disney has brought together of authentic Polynesian culture and the fabricated kitsch of mid-Century Tiki design. While we haven’t stayed there (yet…), I drag Sean to Disney’s Polynesian Village Resort every trip to spend an hour or so in the shop and drop a lot of money on souvenir mugs (and the rum that I have to drain out of them) at Trader Sam’s Grog Grotto. He also enjoys the resort, and is happy whenever we eat at The Kona Café. We can always get a table at the Kona Cafe, and it always a surprise to me, because the food is amazing, and since it overlooks the 2-story lobby of the Grand Ceremonial House, it’s a beautiful experience. Most families go for the Ohana restaurant, where meals are served family-style and characters from Lilo & Stitch roam the tables (fun!!), or they choose the Spirit of Aloha Dinner Show in Luau Cove (amazing!). Several times we have walked into the Poly lobby thronged with large groups lounging on the furniture or getting their picture taken waiting for their Ohana seating, and have stepped right into Kona Café to be seated at a table without a reservation.
While the pan Asian/Polynesian cuisine served during lunch and dinner are perfect when you want a lighter meal, especially after spending time out in the Florida heat, it’s one particularly famous (and certainly not light) item on their breakfast menu that made me want to include Kona Café in the list: Tonga Toast.
My WDW Dining@Home Menu
If you have not experienced the Tonga Toast, let me break it down for you: Take half a loaf of unsliced white bread, cut a slit in it, fill it with sliced banana, soak it in eggs and cream (like French Toast), deep fry it, roll it in cinnamon & sugar, and drizzle with strawberry compote. That’s a serving for one person.
I ended up making a loaf of white bread from my grandmother’s recipe box (this one is a good substitute), slicing it into 5 or 6 slices (thick, but not HALF A LOAF), stuffing with banana, dipping in egg, and pan frying it (thanks again, cast iron skillet!) before dredging it in cinnamon & sugar. I made a strawberry compote (simmer together chopped strawberries, sugar, a little lemon juice, and vanilla until thickened, cool and store in a jar in the fridge) and the bread in the days leading-up to breakfast.
My version of Tonga Toast, a side of bacon, coffee, water, and POG juice.
So delicious, but we both crashed immediately after finishing breakfast and needed a nap, thanks to the carb & sugar overload.
Liliko’i Juice (Poly), Jungle Juice (Animal Kingdom) and Moonshine Juice are several names given to POG (equal parts Passion, Orange & Guava) Juice that is a staple at many Disney Resorts. I made a huge batch and froze half of it for summer time Trader Sam concoctions. You can see it in the photo on the top right of the menu. Because this was a breakfast, I set us up on the kitchen island again, but this time I laid-out some vintage Hawai’ian fabric I had as table cloths and played an appropriate playlist (I had many in my collections to choose from. Go for Alfred Apaka or Don Ho if you don’t mind lyrics, or search for Led Kaapana or other Hawaiian Slack Key Guitar masters for instrumental).
This was a fun weekend, and a nice progression from the relative ease of the first weekend to the complexity of the ambitious meals coming up. Will he bite off more than he can chew? Wait and see…
California Grill A very popular destination since 1971 (then known as the Top of the World Restaurant & Lounge) located on the 15th floor of Disney’s Contemporary Resort, The California Grill offers unparalleled panoramic views, and outdoor roof terraces for viewing the fireworks from the Magic Kingdom. Though Top of the World Lounge at Bay Lake Tower offers exclusive access and closer viewing, the angle and overall view is still better from California Grill, in my opinion. Of course, nothing beats being on Main Street to experience the projection mapping, lights, fireworks, and music, but I digress.
Menu, Logo & Cosmo circa.2011
As I mentioned in Part 1, the scheduling of the “at home ADRs” started from least complicated to most elaborate. “Least complicated” in this case equaled “made by someone else.” California Grill is known for its stellar wine list and clean, fresh, contemporary California cuisine. While we have eaten in the restaurant many times, we have also sat in the Lounge area for lighter fare and cocktails before watching the fireworks or heading into the Magic Kingdom for an evening event. I chose to recreate the Lounge experience for this first evening.
My menu (current 2020 logo) with Sean’s Martini
When Sean woke up on that Saturday morning, I left a card for him to open that had a drawing of a Cosmopolitan on it. We tend to pair our cocktails with the seasons, and summer is always Martinis (for him) and Cosmos (for me), and the clean lines and pop of color reminded me of the Contemporary. In the card, I told him to “meet me this evening at the California Grill for our first ADR, and be sure to check the dress code.”
Cheese Board from the California Grill, c.2011
When sitting in the Lounge, we typically order off of the Lounge menu, so I chose an amuse bouche of a Veggie Salad Roll (from Whole Foods), a charcuterie & cheese board, cocktails, and a small dessert trio (also from Whole Foods) to share. We are lucky to have The Cheese Shop of Salem in town (and even luckier that they deliver!), and while I did not stick entirely to the California theme in my cheese and charcuterie selections, I did have California wines available and built up the choices to make it more of a meal.
My WDW@Home 2020 version. See selections printed on the menu above.
The Veggie Salad Roll was a fresh, clean, vegetarian sushi-style roll wrapped in lettuce (not shown, sorry) which seemed very Californian to me, and the desserts (below), while maybe not accurate to the original menu, were close enough to convey the sense that we were there.
My Dessert Trio. Presentation is key, especially when it’s all store-bought.
You will notice that the dessert photo has a dramatic lighting effect, that is because the “lounge” was actually our living room coffee table. During the meal, I had a sunset video on the TV while a Disney Spotify playlist I created played over the speakers. When it came time for dessert, I turned off the lights and switched the TV and speakers to the Happily Ever After Fireworks.
When we travel to WDW, we will often start our vacation in the Magic Kingdom, or by watching the fireworks from Top of the World or California Grill, so this was the perfect beginning, and set the tone for the rest of the month. Because this evening’s dinner was store-bought and involved only assembly and presentation, I was able to “book” a hearty breakfast ADR for the following morning.
My WDW@Home menu
Whispering Canyon Café While we have only eaten in the Whispering Canyon Café a handful of times, Disney’s Wilderness Lodge, where it is located, is very dear to our hearts, so I knew I had to find a way to represent it in my planning. In the overall story of the month, I had us staying at the Lodge this first weekend. We would have taken the boat from the Contemporary last night after dinner (what a spectacular view – go do an image search) and we’d be waking up in our room and heading down to the lobby for breakfast this morning.
Breakfast skillet from WCC. Photo from DisneyFoodBlog,com
In Part 1, you saw a screenshot of the planning spreadsheet and may have noticed that he received a gift AND a WDW@Home experience on this day. I can’t recall which came first, so this truly was a chicken & (scrambled) egg scenario. You see, we had lived up to this point without owning a cast iron skillet (!). I knew that it was the secret tool in the perfectly-prepared filet mignon coming up later in the month (not to mention the crispiest grilled cheese, skillet cornbread, chicken-under-a-brick…the list goes on…), so I ordered one. I had already planned a special breakfast for the second Sunday that was to be the only non-dinner event, but when the skillet arrived early and I realized we didn’t have the Wilderness Lodge represented, I had the idea of making the skillet a gift and to use it as the centerpiece to this meal.
My WDW@Home Skillet Breakfast presentation
Sean woke up to a pun card with a horse on the cover that said “Hay There.” Inside, there was a lot of “Howdy Partner…” this-and that, plus a warning to not ask for ketchup, because we were heading down to the lobby for a rollicking good time and an all-you-care-to-eat skillet breakfast!
Since the Saturday meal was relatively low-maintenance, I used the day to prep the potatoes for making home fries, made my Cheddar Buttermilk Biscuit mix (I used dried buttermilk powder), cornbread, honey butter, and the sausage gravy. All sat in the refrigerator overnight so that in the morning, I’d have less to prepare.
Cornbread & honey Butter
I set the “table” on our kitchen island, as that is where we usually have weekend breakfasts together. First, I put the bacon in the oven (400F for ~20 minutes on a foil-lined baking sheet). The cornbread was wrapped in foil and sat in the oven for a few minutes to warm, then was served with the honey butter while Sean had his Mimosa and coffee. While the bacon was cooking (oh the smell!!!), I added the appropriate amount of cold water to the chilled biscuit mix, kneaded it, shaped &, cut (yay Mickey cutters!) and put them on a baking sheet. When the bacon was done, I put it on paper towels to drain while I increased the oven temperature to 425 F to bake the biscuits. I warmed the sausage gravy on the stove, toasted the frozen (store bought) Mickey Waffles in the toaster, and skillet-roasted the potatoes (heat butter & oil, sauté cubed potatoes with minced garlic and onions over med-high heat 8-10 minutes, toss with garlic & onion powders, a pinch of paprika, salt & pepper). The potatoes and biscuits were done at the same time, so I heated some maple syrup before plating and presenting everything to Sean while I scrambled the eggs.
Mmm warm cheddar buttermilk Mickey biscuits….
Everything came out perfectly, but (like the real thing) it was way too much food! Proportions aside, don’t be intimidated by trying this. Remember: this was all breakfast food. You can easily change the décor, music, and plating to turn this into Chef Mickey’s, Donald’s Breakfastasaurus, or The Crystal Palace Breakfast with Pooh & Friends. Try it out with your family to add some Magic to your weekend breakfast.
Small Stuff 
