Optimistic Beacon

I know it sounds a bit bizarre,
But in Camelot, Camelot
That’s how conditions are.
The rain may never fall till after sundown.
By eight, the morning fog must disappear.
In short, there’s simply not
A more congenial spot
For happily-ever-aftering than here
In Camelot. ~ Words from the song Camelot

IIf life matched the lyrics from the song Camelot,  a frown would never appear on my face. My heart would always sing a love song. My eyes would always sparkle and see only the happy faces of lovers and carefree children. Pain and suffering would no longer be words. I would be in love and loved each moment of the day. My feet would never quite touch the ground, I’d be in Camelot.

At times, I’ve known Camelot. The minutes I spent with Babe. The laughs we shared. We had a dance, a beautiful dance. If there was pain and I’m sure there was, I don’t remember. It’s that way in Camelot. Camelot erases the nonsense and leaves only love.

I can’t go back to Camelot. I can go on. If you share a similar journey with me. We have to go on. We have no choice. It is the only way through. Who knows, one day, we may wake up and pull open the blinds and marvel, for we are again in Camelot. It’s the way of love. Love has its own mysterious ways of healing, renewing and recreating.

Love is waiting.

I grew up in an Italian family surrounded by other Italian families, it wasn’t Italy. It wasn’t near Italy. If garlic is a spring fragrance, it was always spring.  No one ever complained about bad breath – because we all had bad breath if you think garlic breath is offensive.

Every meal my mom cooked began with a base of garlic and onions sautéed in EVOO. It was the base for sauce, stuffing for the Thanksgiving turkey, and of course the family staple, meatballs.

My mom was not one to share recipes. She guarded her recipes like the government guards Fort Knox. Why am I sharing this segment of my life story with you? God only knows. Maybe I ate one too many pistachios at lunch. Hey, it’s my weird sense of humor.I’m going to show you how to make my mom’s healthy Pasta

Enough of my digressing. I’m going to show you how to make my mom’s healthy Pasta Fagoli, AKA Italian bean soup. Well, sort of, because she never shared the recipe. I am going on memory. She never wrote it down, it was a little of this, a little of that, a pinch here and a pinch there until it tasted the way she wanted it to taste. Once here taste buds sent the signal that it was perfect, we could sneak spoonfuls of soup from the big pot. I may not get her recipe right but the bean soup I make is awesome. My statement is based on reviews, don’t believe me? Check out Google or Yelp. Please don’t. I admit I’m the reviewer. But, I liked it so much I ate four bowls.

First things first – use garlic at your own peril – I’m still working off my garlic overload from childhood.

Essential tools: Slow cooker, slow cooker liner, can of kidney beans, red wine, and a box of crushed tomatoes.

I buy the low sodium kidney beans, don’t panic. If you prefer high blood pressure, pour in the salt to taste. The first task, line the slow cooker. I’m not lazy, I just don’t like cleaning a slow cooker after dinner. I open the can of beans. I use an electric can opener. I save my energy for the gym. I pour the can of beans into the slow cooker, sans top. What can be more fun than that? Don’t answer. I empty the box of crushed tomatoes on top of the beans – let’s party. Is it Cinco de Mayo yet? We need some liquid – I put two cups of low sodium chicken broth in the cooker.

I empty the box of crushed tomatoes on top of the beans – let’s party. Is it Cinco de Mayo yet? We need some liquid – I put two cups of low sodium chicken broth in the cooker.  Notice the low sodium theme? Time for vino – No, we’re not going to go to a wine tasting event. I take out the cork of my inexpensive, yet tasty Merlot, tilt the bottle and make the tomatoes, beans, and broth happy. How much wine you ask? I don’t measure, so I’ll say a good splash. I sprinkle crushed red pepper on the mix, and a shake or two of Italian seasonings. I turn the cooker on and set it for 8 hours. I’m going to leave it alone for tour hour. Before I take off, I scoot to the herb garden and harvest rosemary and basil. The plant to the left is basil. The plant to the right is rosemary.

I’m going to leave it alone for four hours. Time flies when you’re having fun. The four hours are up. It’s time to kick it up a notch. I cut up a poblano and jalapeno (mom would approve – I live in San Antonio – When in San Antonio, do as the San Antonians do). Add onion, a red pepper, yellow pepper and put the top on. One hour before I eat, I’ll add a bit of chopped kale and a third cup of pasta (it’s not bean soup without pasta). 

A half hour before the soup is done, it’s fragrance is making my stomach scream for a taste – I give in to quiet it down. Oh man, it is good. Time to grate the Parmigiano Reggiano.

Thanks Mom. I love this soup.

Help, I am being held prisoner by vegans. They’re being nice to me, but I like my Greek yogurt. I like an occasional piece of chicken. I’ll even make a roll-up with Boar’s Head no salt added turkey. The vegans told me it is an intervention for my own good. Oh mercy, mercy. I have to eat broccoli, edema, kale, Brussel sprouts (ugh!), quinoa, and beans. Need I go on. Don’t get me wrong, I like broccoli, kale, quinoa, and beans. But life is more than that.

They promised to let me go if I promised to make tofu tacos. Hey, I live in San Antonio. A tofu taco? I’ll have a taco cartel on my case. And, rightly so. The vegans said it would be healthy, full of protein, and taste great. I’m not one to quibble. I agreed to make the dish and report it on my blog. You should have heard the cheering. They quickly cut the seaweed bonds from my hands, gave me a drink of champagne, or should I say wheat grass (where’s the Listerine, por favor). We had a group hug. They made me promise to take the tofu tacos to one of their vegan potluck dinners.

Here are a couple of tofu tips for carnivores: 1) You won’t find tofu at the meat counter. You won’t find it in the bakery or with the chips, although you may find vegans checking out the chips. I’m not suggesting the chip aisle is a good place to meet vegans. But you never know. Best bet, ask one of the store clerks where they keep it. Honestly, it is really, really hard for a guy to ask directions. We’d rather drive a hundred miles in a wrong direction and claim it’s a shortcut instead of asking for help. I can see Babe now nodding her head in agreement. When I finally set my hubris aside and asked for help, they told me the tofu was in its logical place, right next to the mushrooms, and packaged organic spinach. I don’t want to question the wisdom of the placed, but there must be a better place. 2) Only purchase the extra firm (hard as a brick, I wish) tofu. Tofu is really good for you. According to the BBC, “Tofu is a good source of protein and contains all eight essential amino acids. It is also an excellent source of iron and calcium and the minerals manganese, selenium and phosphorous. In addition, tofu is a good source of magnesium, copper, zinc and vitamin B1.”

I cut the block of tofu in half. I wrap the half I’m going to use in paper towels to dry it out. It’s going to be wet, so I have to use more paper towels. Paper towels are expensive, money doesn’t grow on trees unless its Bounty. My brand of choice. The squares in the 1st picture are not dominoes. They’re, mas o meno, all alike, but like fingerprints, none of my tofu squares are alike. I baste them with a mixture of EVOO, ginger, and turmeric. Ye gads you’re shouting the intervention got to him. Ray has to be deprogrammed. Trust me, it’s going to turn out. The third photo shows the tofu ready for the skillet.

Turn up the sizzle. I have the heat turned way up. I have a splash of EVOO in the pan and it’s popping. I put the tofu in and let it go. I have time to check my email, see who retweeted me on Twitter before I have to flip these babies. Gentle on the flipping, tofu is very sensitive. When the tofu is about 90% done, I add my cut up poblano, red, and green peppers and onion. We’re making tacos right? What’s a taco without that combo? I got this. It’s all under control. I think I’ll have a sip of my iced tea.

I transfer my tofu and veggies to a bowl. I get my tortillas ready. You can see the brand I use – low in calories, high in protein and fiber. If you see the lower left-hand corner of the tortilla package torn, it’s the way a guy opens a package. Why get the scissors when brute force is better. You’re looking at one healthy, good for the heart meal. After I roll and eat my tacos, I’m sending my vegan friends a thank you letter. They did not, however, convert me.