September 14, 2010 @ 6:59 am | Filed under: Food and Drink,The Fit Life

Ingredients

	2 tsp vegetable oil, divided
	1 tsp sesame oil, divided
	1 1/2 Tbsp ginger root, finely chopped
	3 small garlic clove(s), finely chopped
	1 pound(s) uncooked boneless, skinless chicken breast, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
	1 large sweet red pepper(s), cut into 1-inch pieces
	2 cup(s) broccoli, florets
	2 Tbsp low-sodium soy sauce
	20 item(s) cashews, roasted, unsalted, roughly chopped

Instructions

Heat a large nonstick skillet over high heat. Add 1 teaspoon of vegetable oil, 1/2 teaspoon of sesame oil, ginger and garlic; cook 15 seconds. Add chicken and stir-fry until starting to brown, about 3 to 4 minutes; remove to a plate.

Add remaining teaspoon of vegetable oil, pepper and broccoli to same skillet; stir-fry for 3 minutes. Add chicken back to skillet, pour in soy sauce and cook, stirring, until chicken is cooked through, about 2 minutes more; toss with remaining 1/2 teaspoon of sesame oil. Sprinkle on cashews and serve. Yields about 1 3/4 cup per serving.

**  A Weight Watcher recipe – 5 points

Tags: healthy recipes, Tasty Tuesdays

September 13, 2010 @ 6:24 am | Filed under: Family,Pure Sunshine

Yesterday we did the Big Table.

Mike and I stopped by Mom’s on the way to church. Knowing they had already left to attend the Grandparents’ Breakfast, I wanted to slip in and set the big table in preparation for our family lunch. We were armed with all things festive and fun, and it was my intention to do what I could to ease us all into this very special lunch.

This would be the first time we’d all gather around the big table since my grandfather’s passing in July. And that is quite a bit of time for a family that has racked up quite a sum of memories by spending hours at a time sitting around this very table – sharing stories, sharing laughter, even sharing a few tears from time to time…

Last Sunday we gathered for an impromtu lunch at Mom’s too, but we almost instinctively huddled around the much smaller table in the kitchen. No one ever said a word, but it was like we all knew that we weren’t quite ready to take on the big table yet. The emptiness of my grandfather’s chair – and the one next to it, for that matter, that my grandmother had always occupied – seemed powerfully empty.

But yesterday was a special day. We were gathering to celebrate Robyn’s birthday. And one of our family celebrations definitely calls for the big table, no question about it. Not just because my sister-in-law deserves it, which she certainly does, but because we all deserve the feeling that only comes when we gather in that way.

So we left home extra early, Mike and I, so we could swing by Mom’s first and set the table. As I walked into the semi-darkness of the dining room, I was prepared to feel almost anything. Except for maybe the wiggle of delight that made its way up my middle and all the way to my face when I flipped on the light and first glimpsed the table.

Mom had beat me to it.

She had opened the bags I’d left at her house earlier in the week and she’d set the table, fun and festive. Each place was set with care. Mike and I carefully added the touches we’d brought in silence and then quietly turned out the lights and left. A deep feeling of contentment mixed with anticipation welled inside of me. All was as it should be. The family celebration would be perfect. I just knew it.

And it was. Perfect. My nieces – who’ve always sat at the “kid’s table” in the kitchen received a promotion. They accepted their new seats at the big table with a maturity and a grace that made me proud. And we laughed. And we told stories. And we passed Kael. And we shared food, love, and made new memories.

We did the Big Table.

And it fed our hearts in the best way possible.

Tags: Family, memories

September 10, 2010 @ 6:49 am | Filed under: Books,The Writing Life

              MELROSE MIRACLE

by Staci Wilder

 

Chapter Thirteen

              Luke sat in the right-hand turn lane at the corner of Melrose and Turner. They’d wrapped up filming a half-hour ago and now he was headed home. Kurt, Ernie, and some of the crew were going to grab a burger from Jake’s Chop House, but Luke had begged off. He’d seen the knowing gleam in Kurt’s eyes as he’d climbed into his Expedition in the studio parking lot.

            “Hey, man,” Kurt had propped an elbow on the rolled down window. “You really going home?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Or are you going to find a certain pretty little waitress…er, I mean…girl, uh, woman?”

            Luke could hardly fault his buddy. Ella Paglia was indeed in a class all her own. Pretty, yes. But not beautiful—not by LA’s standards anyway. Funny, absolutely. But not in a ‘I’m-going-to-make-you-laugh-now’ sort of way. It was subtle, and 100% natural. A woman, well…duh! Her delicate feminine curves—he was glad she had curves, too many walking popsicle sticks around here already—left no doubt she was a woman. But the innocence in her dark eyes when she gazed at him like she had the other night…

            Ella Paglia was beauty and wit, infused with childlike wonder, and packaged in a delightful womanly form.

            “I’m headed home,” he answered Kurt’s question now. “I’m not sure where Ella went.”

            Kurt nodded. “Yeah, I heard a couple of the crew mention she seemed upset after her segment.” He shrugged and pulled away from the truck window. “But she’s not the only finalist that had a tough day. She shouldn’t have taken it so hard.”

            Luke had no reply. What could he say? That Ella was just that type of woman—with ridiculously high standards for herself? That this contest was merely a springboard for the bigger dream in her life—a future of security for her small daughter? He couldn’t voice these things to Kurt. The guy already thought he was nuts. How could he explain that, in the course of a few days and several marathon hours of conversation, he’d “gotten” Ella. Understood her. Felt like he’d known her his whole life.

            “All right, buddy.” Kurt waved him off. “If you change your mind about joining us, we’ll be at Jake’s.”

            Now—scarcely five minutes later—Luke made a decision.

            Flipping on the left-hand blinker, he twisted in his seat, signaling the driver in the lane next to him. Can I get over?, he mouthed. Waving his thanks, Luke steered the Expedition into the left lane as the light turned green. Making a U-turn, he headed back the way he’d come. Past Jake’s. Past the studio lots.

            He headed to the Radisson.

            Luke didn’t know where Ella was. He knew that what Kurt had said was true though. Ella had been upset with her performance during the afternoon challenge. What she didn’t know—couldn’t know—was that her slip on the floor was in no way at all the worst of the catastrophes that occurred in the competition today. Dirk completely lost his place with the teleprompter, rambling for a long three minutes about nonsense and never fully recovering. Deidra’s elbow had grazed a carton of eggs, sending an even dozen crashing to the floor during her demo.

            Luke shrugged now. He was used to these things—they’d happened every day to some degree during his stint on It’s My Kitchen. Unfortunately Ella and the other finalists aimed for perfection, feeling that was the requirement for the winner of this competition. Luke knew it didn’t require perfection, just personality to persevere, ability to work hard, and the talent to do the job.

            In his mind—Ella.

            The finalists had been given a two-hour break between the final demo taping and the next elimination ceremony. Asked to return to Sound Stage C at seven o’clock sharp, Luke knew one of the seven would walk back out disappointed.

            He pulled into the parking lot of the Radisson and found an empty space right up front. He didn’t know if Ella had taken a cab back here, but he sensed she probably needed a connection to home, to her heart. She would have come here for some private time to call Chloe. To reconnect with why she was even putting herself through this wringer of a competition.

            His heart ached for her as he jogged to the rotating glass doors of the hotel. Frustrated by the slowly turning glass, he pushed against it, easing out as soon as he could. Once in the lobby, he headed for the front desk. He didn’t know Ella’s room number since they’d just sat in the lobby the other night. He’d wanted to walk her back to her room, but somehow it didn’t feel like the appropriate thing to do yet.

            “Hello?” Luke leaned over the counter, trying to get the attention of the hotel clerk.

            She looked up from her magazine. “May I help you?”

            “Yes,” he rapped his knuckles against the marble counter. “Can you tell me what room number a Ms. Ella Paglia is listed under?”

            The woman popped her gum and shook her head. “Sorry. Can’t give out room numbers.” She made a couple of clicks on the computer keyboard in front of her, then picked up a phone. “I’ll dial her room for you though.”

            Luke waited for what seemed an eternity.

            “Ms. Paglia? I have someone in the lobby who’d like to talk to you.” The woman glanced up at him and mouthed, what’s your name?

            “Luke,” he whispered. “Luke Abney.”

            “Ma’am, a Mr. Luke Abney is down in the lobby. Would you like to speak with him?”

            “Mmhm. Very good, ma’am. Bye now.”

            Luke watched with a sinking heart as the hotel clerk replaced the phone in its cradle. He’d never considered that Ella might not want to see him. That she might refuse the comfort he wanted to offer her. He ran a hand over his eyes, suddenly weary, and turned from the counter.

            “Uh, sir, she said she’d be right down.”

            His heart bounced inside his chest as he spun around. Grinning, he pointed at the hotel clerk. “Thank you! Thank you!”

            The wait couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but Luke thought the elevator doors would never open. Even when they finally did, it wasn’t until three cars later that Ella stepped off.

            He jumped up from where he’d perched on the arm of a chair. “Hey.”

 In one glance, he drank in the sight of her, feeling a smile light his face. Her hair was loose, like he loved, and the crazy curls framed her face, somehow accenting the delicate features of her face. A pastel pink-button down was tucked into a slim denim skirt. Strappy matching sandals covered her feet, giving her maybe two more inches in height.

            “Hi.”

            Her smile was bright and steady and it wasn’t until they were face-to-face that Luke saw the evidence of tears not long dried.

“How are you?” His voice sounded husky, even to his own ears. He cleared his throat. “I…I was…worried about you.”

            Ella shrugged and Luke was overcome again with how petite she was, her shoulders seeming so fragile with the simple movement. “I’m okay. Better now.”

            “Did you call home? Talk to Chloe?”

            The instant grin was genuine and torpedoed Luke’s heart. “Yeah. I did. How’d you know?”

            It was his turn to grin, and he felt a blush begin to creep its way beneath the skin of his neck. If he wasn’t careful, he’d give away too much of himself, too quickly. “I don’t know. I just figured it was something you’d want to do.”

            What he wanted to do was reach out and pull this delightful creature into his arms. Hold her and let her know that he didn’t care what any silly TV competition decided, she was the winner in his book. Instead he took her by the elbow, gently leading her to the nearby chairs.

            “Well, you were right.” She curled up in the chair across from him, tucking her legs beneath her. “Chloe was glad to hear from me.” Ella shook her head, her curls bouncing. “Of course, she doesn’t understand the distance—the time—that we’re apart. And she’s having such a blast with her Aunt Reggie…”

            Luke leaned forward, anchoring his elbows on his knees, and looked into her eyes. “I’m sure she misses her mama.”

            Tears pooled in her eyes and she glanced away. Luke could have kicked himself. The last thing he wanted to do was make her cry again. “Hey, I’m sorry—.”

            Ella laughed and waved away his comment. “Don’t be. I’m just being silly. It’s just—” she threw her arms wide open—“this competition is stressful and being away from Chloe is painful. Sometimes…sometimes it’s just too much, you know?”

            Luke stood and pulled his chair closer to hers. He saw the hotel concierge look his way and knew he probably committed a faux paus, but he really didn’t care. Sinking down again, he did what he’d wanted to since the first day he’d met her. Lifting her hand from where it rested in her lap, Luke laced his fingers through hers. Feeling her smaller hand in his, skin-to-skin, sent a thrill of electricity through him. He instinctively wanted to take care of this woman.

            If Ella was surprised by this, she didn’t let on. Instead he felt her fingers relax against his and he squeezed them. Resisting the urge to bring her hand to his lips, he contented himself with staring into her dark eyes. The tears were all but gone, now only a filmy brightness left in their wake.

            “Is there anything I can do?” He felt helpless, and yet hopeful, all at once.

            She giggled, and the sound filled his ears. “You’re doing it.”

            Luke smiled and covered both their hands with his other. “If I’d known this was all you needed, I’d have been here a lot sooner.”

            Ella gulped and Luke wondered if he’d made her cry again. But she recovered and instead laughed. “I guess you saw my graceful performance today, right?”

            “What are you talking about?” Luke teased. “I saw grace in action. I mean, you must have set some kind of record for jumping to your feet again. And without ever letting go of that blasted lobster, no less!”

            This time Ella’s laugh was from her gut, and Luke felt like he’d won something major, like the Pulitzer or the Nobel Peace prize. Something worthy. Something great.

            Because sitting here in the Radisson lobby, with Ella Paglia’s hand tucked securely inside his own, listening to her laugh—this trumped all else Luke could imagine.

*****

            Ella couldn’t believe she was sitting here, holding hands with Luke Abney. Her Mr. Blond. Yet talking and laughing with Luke felt as natural to her right now as cuddling with Chloe or chatting with Reggie.

            “Let me see your foot.” Luke held out a hand.

            “What?” Ella stared at him, not sure if she felt anticipation or pure horror. “Why?”

            “Come on.” Luke grinned at her. “Trust me.” He bent down and reached for her foot. Slipping her sandal off he eased her foot onto his lap. “Okay, just relax now. Shut your eyes.”

            Ella didn’t want to close her eyes. She wanted to look around and make sure no one was witnessing this embarrassing moment.

            “If I’d have know you were going to do this, I would have—”

            Her words trailed off as Luke’s fingers pressed into the sole of her foot. The pressure was exquisite and her eyes closed involuntarily.

            “That’s it.” His voice was low and husky. “Relax and let me do the work.”

            Ella felt the urge to giggle, but her body was doing just as he asked without waiting for her permission. After a few minutes, she opened one eye and peered at him. He was watching her face, his fingers still moving with slow, measured movements across her skin.

            “Where’d you learn to do that?” Ella didn’t know if she wanted to know the answer. She for sure didn’t want to know how many other woman may have experienced this.

            Luke’s grin was lopsided, and partly sheepish. “I grew up watching my dad do this for my mom on days when us kids proved to be a handful.” He shrugged and his voice dropped another octave. “It always seemed to work.”

            Ella did giggle now. “What are you saying? That she was putty in his hands after this?”

            “Are you saying that you’re putty in my hands?”

            Ella arched an eyebrow, but didn’t answer.  

            “Will you go out to dinner with me tonight?”

            “What?” Ella laughed and eased her foot from his grasp. She slipped back into her shoe. “Wouldn’t that be against some rule? Me, a finalist and you, a network employee?”

            “Nope.” Luke’s voice oozed pride. “I checked. I technically work for Dreamcaster Productions, not The Cooking Channel, so there’s no conflict of interest. I mean, I probably couldn’t marry you—until after the competition…”

            Ella stared at him, her mouth open wide, speechless. His lopsided grin told her he was teasing. This felt good, being here with Luke. As though she were supposed to be here. That this place in time had been held for her and, now that she was here, all the pieces of her heart and soul seemed to come together in perfect unison.

            Or almost perfect.

            “Ella?” Luke’s voice turned serious. “Do you mind if I pray for you?”

            Her mind went into instant freeze mode. Luke wanted to pray for her? This mixture of emotion and attraction she’d been feeling toward Luke Abney had left no time or room for her to consider things. Things like value systems and belief structures. Or church attendance or a belief in a higher power.

            And now—out of the clear blue—was a non-too-subtle hint at where Luke Abney stood in the faith department. Ella wasn’t sure how she felt. She’d managed to keep her mind safely off such subjects for so long now…

            “Uh…of course.” She nodded, knowing her hesitancy showed. What could it hurt, right? “Sure, you can pray for me.”

            “Really?” Luke looked hopeful. “I just want you to go into this elimination thing tonight with peace.” He tapped his own chest. “You know, a really deep peace. So that no matter what happens, you know without a doubt you—and Chloe—are going to be all right.”

            The lump lodged in Ella’s throat made it difficult for her to speak. It had been so long since someone had spoken words like these to her. Something inside her screamed for her to believe this man, to bow her head with him and give herself fully to this peace he spoke of.

            But she couldn’t. She’d let him pray for her. Ella knew her heart would allow no more than that. There was a time—not too long ago—when this would have been the most natural thing in the world, to bow her head and pray in faith. But that was before…

            Ella knew better now. Sometimes prayer didn’t accomplish a thing.

Tags: Free Fiction Fridays, Staci Wilder books, summer reads, writing

September 9, 2010 @ 6:02 am | Filed under: Family

“I’ve never known a man worth his salt who in the long run, deep down in his heart, didn’t appreciate the grind, the discipline. I firmly believe that any man’s finest hour – this greatest fulfillment to all he holds dear is that moment when he has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle, victorious.”   – Vince Lombardi

What’s that saying, the more things change, the more they stay the same?

Well, times have certainly changed in America’s high schools across the country. Technology literally resides in each student’s fingers in the forms of cell phones and iPods. Slang has developed to a whole new, unprecedented level. And traditional blackboards have been replaced with uber-wonderful laptops and PowerPoint presentations.

But one thing remains the same.

Friday night lights.

That’s right, are you ready for some foooooootbaaaaaalll?

High school football at its finest. Coaching at its funnest. At least from my perspective…that of one of the coach’s siblings.

I don’t get to attend many of Kevin’s games but that doesn’t in any way at all diminish the amount of immense pride I take in what he does. The relationships and levels of trust he cultivates with his players and students inspires me. There’s nothing quite like looking “up” to your younger brother.

I love it.

While my mind and heart still hold mental snapshots of him as a skinny kid who had crushes on my friends, bruises and mosquito bites on his legs, and was almost always drinking grape Kool-aid, the little brother who can be found on the field most Friday nights is a man.

A man I’m so proud to say is my brother. Strong (maybe even sometimes headstrong), hardworking (he stays in project mode), and irresistably good-looking (just ask any of my friends), he’s grown up to be a husband and father (and coach) that I’m proud of.

Here in the Wilder home, we’re cheering on the Berkner Rams this fall season…and Team Rogers!

Tags: Family, memories, siblings

September 8, 2010 @ 6:35 am | Filed under: Soul Food,Uniquely Me

“The ability to simplify means to eliminate the unnecessary so that the necessary may speak.”  ~ Hans Hofmann

“Hey Nana.” Kendall walked into the kitchen. It was the twinkle in her eyes more than her excited tone that captured my attention. “Can you come here for a minute?”

I dried my hands on a towel and then followed her into the living room. She walked to the shelves that now housed Mama’s salt and pepper shakers. I thought for sure she must have more questions about them. She reached one tiny hand out but – instead of fingering one of the sets – she pointed to the round tin with the letters S I M P L I F Y stenciled on the side that sat on the bottom shelf.

“Did you know – ” Her voice lowered to a bare hush “- that there’s change in there?”

I did know, but often forgot.

I had picked up the tin at a little store in Jefferson last year during our annual cousins trip. Mike and I had just entered Phase I of our Big Adventure and the message on this can was a ready reminder that everything we might be sacrificing in the short term was going to pay large dividends in the long term.

We placed it on this shelf and had gotten into the habit of dropping our spare change into it. Over the course of many months it had become quite the nice change tin. Particularly for a curious six-year old, who thought she’d just hit some major pay dirt.

Her words still linger with me – even now, a few weeks later. There’s change in here.

The irony isn’t lost to me.

We’ve made a very deliberate choice to live a simple life. Making daily choices that bring us closer to our ultimate goal. A place we want to create for us and for our families, a place that will be the legacy we hand down to our kids.

The place where we’ll grow old together, sipping early morning coffee on a back deck and hosting family weekend dinners in our outdoor living area. It will be the hub of happiness and hope, where love is the constant that bonds us all.

But sometimes - in the midst of THE RIGHT NOW – when the issues of work and school and the busyness and craziness that comes with our schedules rears up…I forget.

I forget that simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.

I forget that life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.

I forget that you have succeeded in life when all you really want is only what you really need.

There is change in here!

I know this, and don’t want to forget. This morning it is fresh on my mind and newly imprinted on my heart.

There is change inside of simplicity. And that is what I am in pursuit of.

Tags: contentment, life lessons, living simply

September 7, 2010 @ 6:21 am | Filed under: Food and Drink,The Fit Life

 Ingredients:

 

- 1 cup orange juice
- 1/2 cup plain yogurt
- 1 banana
- 2 cups assorted frozen fruit (a mix of mangos, raspberries, blueberries, and strawberries is perfect)
- 1/2 cup tofu (silken works best, but anything will work)
- 1/4 cup milled flax seed

Directions:

 

Blend all ingrendients in blender, pulsing until thoroughly mixed. Frozen fruit is definitely key for a good smoothie.  It means you don’t have to add any ice at all.  We just buy the mixed berry frozen fruit packages and use those so the smoothies have a little bit of everything.  

Makes 2 large smoothies.

Enjoy!

Tags: healthy recipes, Tasty Tuesdays

September 4, 2010 @ 10:31 am | Filed under: Faith Lifts,Soul Food,The Writing Life,Uniquely Me

I’m at my home-away-from-home today, and my thoughts are all about life’s teachable moments. Sometimes I almost miss the simplest ones because I’m on the lookout for the biggest, grandest, most amazing display of an awesome lesson. When – all along – it lies in the quietness of the ordinary and in the beauty of the everyday.

Enjoy your day! I know I am. I am so in love with the weather – with the hint of fall in the air and the brand new promise of all that a new season brings with it. I’m like a kid in a candy store, running from aisle to aisle…I can’t decide what I like best.

But I’m definitely liking it!

Tags: devotions, Faith Lifts, living simply, walk with God

September 3, 2010 @ 6:29 am | Filed under: Books,The Writing Life

             MELROSE MIRACLE

by Staci Wilder

 

Chapter Twelve

 

            “So you’ve spent some time working on your TV skills.” Nathan Charleton, in his uniform of black slacks and gray sweater, addressed the finalists. “But remember, the cooking still has to look effortless. That’s where the The Cooking Channel’s kitchen and culinary staff—or K&C for short—come in.” He paused and grinned. “Did you think Marcus Jordan or Dario Patali did everything on their own?”

            Ella glanced at Torrie, sitting next to her, and raised her eyebrows. Was she the only one who’d not known the hosts had people behind the scenes? But the blank look in Torrie’s eyes was enough to let Ella know she wasn’t alone.

            “To help you understand more about what goes into preparing one of our shows, the grill master himself is back with us today.” Nathan Charleton gestured toward the back door of the studio. “Marcus Jordan, folks!”

            Ella felt the same surge of excitement she’d felt earlier in the week. After years of watching the chef in action on TV, it was almost surreal to see him bound past her in the flesh. The tall and slim, curly-headed chef looked even more boyish in person than he did on screen. The energy was the same though. Ella knew that whatever today held, the bar would be raised.

            She leaned forward, pen in hand, willing herself to concentrate on Marcus Jordan and what he had to share with them today. Meeting this chef and sitting in on his lectures had been little more than a daydream just weeks ago and Ella knew this was a once in a lifetime experience. But as thrilled as she was to be sitting here in front of Marcus Jordan, one thing still thrilled her more.

            Knowing Luke Abney was somewhere near.

            She smiled, remembering last night. Her eyes felt a bit gritty this morning from lack of sleep. At breakfast she’d had to down a third cup of coffee for an extra jolt of caffeine. Even so, nothing could dim the way she felt this morning. There was a lightness to her, a sense of excitement and adventure, that she hadn’t felt in such a long time.

            And it was because of Luke.

            They had sat in the lobby of the Radisson talking until two a.m. They talked about everything and nothing, all at the same time. After their marathon phone conversation a few months ago, Ella thought she’d known the basic Luke Abney trivia. He was from Indiana and loved apple pie, baseball games, and the LA Lakers. His favorite color was blue and he’d dreamed of being a veterinarian when he was a little boy. He lived in a small apartment in Brentwood, but his favorite spot was his parents’ farmhouse in Bloomington. The long, wraparound porch with the wooden swing, to be exact.

            Last night, they’d filled in the many layers put into place during that phone conversation. Time seemed to fly by. In a matter of hours, Ella felt like she’d known Luke Abney all her life. Somehow it didn’t surprise her. There had been something almost electric between them since their first meeting. Still, the intimacy of the details he’d shared with her—as simple and inconsequential as they might seem to others—was everything to her. Luke Abney had shared himself. Ella had experienced that once before—with Stephen—and she knew that anything less than that was unacceptable.

            Maybe that’s why in the middle of her happiness this morning there also rested an unease. Stephen. He seemed to be all around her today. In the sound of Chloe’s voice on the phone this morning. The scent of his cologne still clung to the suitcase in her hotel room. This caused uncertainty in her emotions, almost like a warning of some kind.

             Ella wanted to ignore it, had, in fact, done a fairly good job of it so far. But even as she pushed all thoughts of Luke and Stephen and even Chloe from her mind as she focused her eyes on Marcus Jordan, Ella knew that something was different.

            It would be different from now on—

            Ella jumped as Marcus Jordan’s voice boomed right in front of her.

            “I’d like to introduce you at this time to what I like to call “my secret weapon”—Miriam Goldsmith, come join me please!”

            Ella twisted in her seat to get a look at the tiny woman making her way to the front. Even shorter than Ella, she was fifty-ish with short gray hair and a huge smile. Marcus placed an arm around Miriam’s shoulders and pulled her close.

            “Miriam is my sous chef. Translated that means she is my right-hand. I really could not do my show without Miriam and the rest of the K&C staff. They are the ones who enable us to do our jobs.” Marcus handed the microphone to Miriam. “I’m going to turn the podium over to you, Miriam.”

            Ella joined the other finalists in a standing ovation. Miriam grinned, waving them back in their seats.

            “Thank you,” the older woman’s voice was soft and kind as she held up two fingers. “The K&C staff is divided into two departments. First we have the cooks and food stylists who actually develop and style the recipes for television. They are the ones who make the food look gorgeous.”

            Henry, on Ella’s right, reached over and nudged her. “Hey, El, can I borrow a sheet of paper?”

            Ella glanced at his desk—completely bare—while she flipped to the back of her notebook and removed a couple of clean sheets. She grinned at him and shook her head. Typical Henry. Funny to a fault, and almost never fully prepared. Ella wondered how far he’d make it in the competition with his lack of organization.

            “Second,” Miriam continued, “is the writers and the editors. The editorial staff works together with the chefs to create recipes for the shows. Then they take those recipes and write ‘break-downs.’”

            Ella scribbled the word and then waited for the definition.

            “A break-down is an action script for a show. Each episode is literally broken down action by action. This way the chef or the host knows what to and when to do it.”

            Ella squirmed. She wasn’t sure how she felt about all these new revelations. Maybe she’d been naive to think that the likes of Marcus Jordan or Kendall Brooks simply walked into a kitchen and proceeded to whip up one amazing meal right after the other—in front of a camera. If so, maybe she should feel relief right now at learning that even the network greats had lots of help.

            But all Ella felt was worry.

            Up to this point she’d known about the teleprompter, the cue cards, the time cards, and the importance of switching from one camera to the next seamlessly. Now Miriam was telling them that each segment is broken down into separate actions, telling her where to be and when to be there.

            Ella shuddered and chanced a peek in Torrie’s direction. The girl had her hands over her ears and her eyes squeezed closed. If Ella hadn’t felt so overwhelmed herself by this fresh onslaught of information, she would have laughed out loud. She knew how Torrie felt. Her earlier premonition had been right.

            The bar had been raised.

            From this point on, the seven remaining finalists would have to give it their all. Less than that, and the loss of concentration and initiative would be just enough to send them packing.

            Ella straightened her back and made up her mind. She’d learn how to do the . break-downs. Face the teleprompter with courage. Show the camera no mercy. Whatever it took, she’d master it.

            She’d come way too far and had way too much at stake to risk going home now.

*****

           Nathan Charleton was issuing the day’s challenge to the seven finalists.

          Luke could hear it all from where he sat in the control booth. Munching on a PB&J sandwich, he leaned back in his chair and propped his tennis shoe-clad feet on a corner of Kurt’s desk.

            “Today each of you will be given a break-down from an episode of Marcus Jordan’s nationally acclaimed cooking show Just Grill Me. You’ll have thirty minutes to read the break-downs and you’ll each have a ten-minute consult with Miriam right before you’re set to begin filming. Miriam will walk you through the break-down. Then tonight—”

            The host paused and Luke quit chewing, straining to hear what he already knew would come next.

            “Tonight another one of you will be eliminated from the contest.”

            Luke swallowed hard. It felt like the peanut butter had coated his throat, suddenly dry. He folded the last two bites of sandwich in a paper towel and stuck it back in the Ziploc baggie. Tossing the whole thing into the trash can beneath Kurt’s desk, he took a deep breath then blew it out in one loud huff.

            “What’s wrong with you?” Kurt punched a button, filtering out all sounds from the sound stage below them, and pulled off his headset.

            “Nothing.” Luke shrugged, then grinned. “Everything?”

            Kurt swiveled in his chair and picked up a can of soda. “Hmmm. It’s the waitress again, isn’t it?”

            “Don’t call her that, man.” Last night, Luke had learned the story of why Ella had gone to work at the diner in the first place. How the big, burly Max had looked out for her. How hard she and her baby girl had it in the months after her husband’s death.

          Now this protectiveness he felt toward her seemed like a big billy club he carried in his hand. Just daring someone to mess with Ella.

          “I mean…she’s more than that, you know?”

            Kurt took a long swig of the cola, then sighed. “Sure she is, man. Hey, Luke, you know I didn’t mean anything by that comment. Really.”

            Luke only nodded.

            “Wow.” Kurt whistled softly. “You’ve got it bad, dude.”

            Luke nodded again. “I know.”

            Kurt seemed at a loss for words. Luke couldn’t blame him. No doubt he was throwing his buddy a curve ball. Nobody—least of all, Luke himself—ever expected Luke Abney to fall this hard or this quick for a woman.

            “Here’s the thing,” Luke faced Kurt and planted his elbows on his knees. Kurt wasn’t exactly the one to go to for female advice, but he was the best Luke had at the moment. “I…I like her. I mean…we’ve only talked a little. But I know I like her. A lot. I know that I like her a lot.” He kept nodding his head. “I know this.”

            Kurt laughed, and rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Oh, man! It’s much worse than I thought. Luke Abney, have you gone and fallen in love behind my back?”

            Love? Luke straightened. He hadn’t given that word a second thought since Tessa. The truth was, he was no longer certain what love was. Maybe he’d never known. He thought he had a great love with Tessa and look how that turned out.

            He shook his head now. He didn’t want to think about Tessa right now. “I don’t know about that…about love, that is. But,” he spread his hands, “I want a chance to know Ella better. But what if she leaves before we have that opportunity?”

            Kurt just stared at him. “You’re not serious, are you?”

            “What do you mean?”

            Kurt’s chair popped as he leaned forward and rapped Luke on the head. “This is the twenty-first century, dude. You know, cell phones and email and airplanes and—”

            “Okay!” Luke held up his hands in surrender. “I get your point. I get it.”

            “So,” Kurt spoke very slowly, as though to a first grader. “If the pretty girl goes back to Louisiana you will call her.” Kurt picked up the cell phone laying on his cluttered desk and waved it in the air. Then he turned to the computer and tapped on the keyboard. “And you’ll email her. See how easy that is?”

            Luke grimaced at Kurt’s good-natured mocking, but as much as he hated to admit it, he felt better. Somehow blockhead Kurt had made this whole Ella Paglia deal seem like it could work.

            “Okay then,” Kurt picked up his headset and jerked a thumb toward the control room door, “Better get downstairs, lover boy. You have a challenge to tape.”

*****

            Ella paced the perimeter of the green room, the dreaded blue card clutched in her hand. Muttering to herself, she rehearsed the break-down: when she’d brush the lobster with oil, which counter she’d be using for her food chops, and how long to grill the quesadillas on each side.

            Each of the seven finalists had been given one of Marcus Jordan’s famous recipes. She’d drawn the Lobster-Toasted Garlic Quesadillas. In less than fifteen minutes a stage hand would show up at the door, beckoning her to the studio floor.

            “That’s not very encouraging, is it?” Dirk’s question broke the silence of the room. He pointed to the couch.

            Across the room, Patty lay face down on the sofa. The poor woman had drawn first again. Ella had been sitting in the overstuffed chair when Patty came back from her demo. She’d entered as quietly as before, but had walked straight to the sofa and lay prone. An hour and a half later, Ella didn’t think the woman had moved a muscle.

            “Should we…shake her?” Ben’s words were whispered. “Nudge her or something? You know, make sure she’s breathing?”

            Dirk grinned. “Sure. Go ahead and do that, Ben.”

            Ben lifted the brown Stetson from his head and ran a hand through his tousled blond hair. “I think she’s probably all right.”  He glanced up at Ella. “Don’t you?”

            Ella giggled in spite of her own nerves. She nodded. “I think she’s fine. She’s just recovering right now.”

            Ben’s sigh filled the green room. “Personally, I think she’s got the right idea. I may pass out myself after I finish cooking up some Marcus Jordan braised pork ribs.”

            Ten minutes later, Ella stood behind the counter in the studio kitchen, thinking that she, too, might join Patty on the sofa. If she ever lived through this demo, that is. She licked her lips and smoothed the white apron over her hips.

            “Okay, Ella,” Marnie called, “On five…four…three…two…one!”

            Ella opened her mouth to speak, but then remembered she’d forgotten to smile into the camera. She clamped her mouth closed again, then gave her best Colgate grin into what she hoped was the right camera.

            And hopefully not Luke’s camera.

            “Today I’m making Lobster-Toasted Garlic Quesadillas.” She turned the smile up another notch. The judges had wanted to see more of her, right? What did that mean, exactly? More personality, Ella supposed. “First I’ll take this lobster—isn’t he a beauty, folks?” She held the lobster up just in time to see Marnie motion toward the other camera.

            Remembering her Colgate smile just in time, Ella spun around with the lobster, her eyes wildly searching for the second camera. As she did, Ella felt her shoe begin to slip on something wet. Confident that she could regain her footing, she tried to find her place on the teleprompter.

           “We’ll need to lay this lobster down on a flat surface and rub him with some oil and seasonings—!”

            Ella lost her battle with the wet spot on the floor. It happened so fast it seemed almost impossible to believe. Yet here she was. On the floor. Still clutching the lobster. And the cameras were rolling.

            That split-second thought was enough to propel Ella into action. On her feet again, she carefully stepped over the water puddle on the floor and dropped the lobster onto the counter with a loud plop! Her eyes found the camera, but not the teleprompter. “And that, folks, is for the experts. Please don’t try that at home!”

            Ella’s heart sank to her knees, though she kept the Colgate grin in place. She’d probably just blown her chance in this competition. Only one thing brought her any consolation. She hadn’t broken the cardinal network rule.

           Don’t ever stop the show!

Tags: Free Fiction Fridays, Staci Wilder books, summer reads, writing

August 31, 2010 @ 6:01 am | Filed under: Food and Drink,Soul Food

Tags: healthy recipes, recipes, Tasty Tuesdays

August 30, 2010 @ 7:02 am | Filed under: School Stuff,Uniquely Me

Four year ago this week I dared to follow a new dream.

I can do a lot of things on my own, but I probably wouldn’t have been so successful at this college thing without MJ’s constant support and encouragement.

He believed in me when the math grade was in the toilet.

He has shared the sofa space next to me with a stack of books for what seems like forever now.

And he was the one who endured my four endless semesters of Spanish (even though I threw the accent in for FREE!)

So baby, this is my thank you…for everything you’ve been…for everything you’ve done…

Thank you for a summer that recharged me and helped me to gear up in every way possible for this last semester of classes and then student teaching. This phase of our lives – like the others – has been a true adventure and so much of that is due to you.

There are many weeks that we sacrifice a lot, especially time, because of the crazy schedules that work and school dictate. I love the fact that even on the days when you’re on the road you’re still the one I talk to the most. And if it weren’t for that crazy road schedule then I wouldn’t have the memories of those unexpected times when you’ve shown up outside of one of my classes – just to surprise me. I appreciate the fact that you celebrate the end of each semester as fully as I do, and it’s in these ways that I know this has most definitely been a shared journey.

Today we celebrate the start of the last semester of classes. Sixteen more weeks. Four months.

The last one!

This one’s for you. Because as much fun as this part of the journey has been, I’m anticipating what lies ahead in our Big Adventure!

I love you.

This free photo slideshow created with Smilebox

Tags: Family, school stories