Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. The Three Time Rule

The Three Time Rule

One philosophy I live by is what I sometimes call the Three Time Rule. We receive little nudges, often unbeknownst to us, meant to bring us another step closer to realizing our dreams and creative potential. I’m thinking back now to a day in college towards the end of my senior year. I majored in broadcast journalism my freshman year at South Dakota State University. One of my classes entailed an assignment doing radio spots and editing (at that time, literally splicing) the tape with a partner. My partner’s name was Marilyn. Marilyn and I had the best time doing that assignment, laughing our way through most of it. As you can imagine, we had to tape over and over again because of the laughter, so we were in the studio the entire afternoon. I don’t remember what kind of a grade I got on that assignment, but I do remember the fun Marilyn and I had together.

 I switched majors to psychology and eventually sociology after that term and didn’t see Marilyn again for three years. Then in the last few days of my senior year, I ran into her three times in three different locations in one day. We were both astounded. Had I known then what I know now, I would have invited Marilyn for a cup of coffee—or more likely, at the time, a beer. This Three Time Rule philosophy has proven itself to me over and over. If I see or read about something more than just a couple of times, I look into it and virtually always find some gem of inspiration I needed to move another degree or two closer to my dreams. Sometimes three different people will recommend the same book to me within a short period of time, and reading that book gives me an entirely new perspective, an alternative route to accomplishing my dreams I hadn’t seen before.

Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences. –Emery Allen

Authentically Yours,

Laura

Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. One Good Thing

One Good Thing

If you’ll excuse my “French,” this week started off shitty. I felt like crap all day on Sunday and didn’t leave the house once. I typically don’t watch much TV; (truly, I don’t; just ask my fiancé and roommate who hates it when I call him “roommate” – he’ll vouch for me.) But I sat on the sofa with my cat and watched three back to back movies on the Hallmark Channel that day. I was grateful when my voice teacher suggested rescheduling our planned afternoon get-together. In fact, I didn’t even shower until right before I went to bed (at 8:00 pm, no lie) and that was just to rinse off in cool water because the weather was hot and I was miserable.

I didn’t feel much better going into the office the next morning, but not bad enough to stay at home again and take a sick day. I was crabby. Slightly depressed. And it was a MONDAY by all accounts. I seriously considered rescheduling my phone consultation with my web diva Monday evening as well. But I’m eager to get going on my new website, had already postponed one appointment in the preceding 36 hours, and don’t have a lot of free time right now. So I decided to forge ahead.

Something happened about a quarter way through our talk. I started to get excited. I remembered what great collaborators Amy and I were when she was designing my Wishweavers logo and website something like a dozen years ago now. I got enthused about moving ahead with the writing and workshop product offerings I feel drawn to put out into the world in a bigger way. I started imagining the color scheme, design and what the site might look like. By the time we hung up the phone after 45 minutes, I was so happy I cried. Literally.

And then I thought about something a co-worker said to me last week. She got married a few months ago after being engaged for something like eight years. I may have asked her how married life was, or some such thing. She mentioned how shocked she was by her husband’s regular practice of coming home from work and laying down to rest. “He does this, for 15 or 20 minutes, every day!” she said. I thought, “How cool. Good for him!” She continued, “When I get home from work it’s always something with the kids, the pets, the groceries, laundry, putting dinner on; I never even sit down until 8:30 at night.”

My co-worker certainly isn’t the only person in the world (I’ll go so far as to say amongst mothers in particular) who could honestly, and perhaps unfortunately, make such a statement.

How many of us make a practice of doing something we want to do, something that makes us happy, every single day? Do you? Truly? I’m paying attention to if I do and so far the answer is no. But I sure feel better when I do.

I’m not talking about what you do for a living (even if you really love what you do for a living), watching TV, any household chores even if you really enjoy a particular chore, or going to the gym. And we should throw parenting out of the mix, too, no matter how much you love being a parent and love your children. I’m talking about the kind of good thing that sings to your “essential self” or “inner nature,” as author and life coach extraordinaire, Martha Beck, would say. We all have an essential self who knew this stuff before we were like, say, five. Or started school. Or whenever other people started telling us all the reasons why we shouldn’t or couldn’t engage in something that made us happy, or all the things that we should like and do because that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

For me, for example, one of those things has always been hanging with animals. Mom tells me my first word was “kitty.” My best friend at age nine was my horse. To this day, I see the dog walking before I see the person at the other end of the leash.

Also, singing and playing piano. And walking outside in nature. Drawing was one, too.

In fourth grade (before I had even first been on stage in fifth grade) I was writing little plays, based on the TV show I DREAM OF JEANNIE, and performing them with my classmates on the playground during recess. Noone taught me to do this – I just automatically did it because it was fun and Julie or Shelly agreed to play/act with me. (There’s that instigator of mine from the last post.) Is it any wonder that acting and writing both bring me such joy now – even though I’ve made no money from acting to date – and not all that much from writing yet either!

Thank goodness I had the sense (and not the kind that comes from your head) to start taking acting classes and get back on stage again in my 30’s. And I did receive, out of the blue, a $2.19 royalty check from my first book last year. I asked my CPA if it would pop me into a higher tax bracket.

For a lot of people, gardening is one good thing. (Note I haven’t mentioned Martha Stewart. I’m not sure which library would have enough room for all of her good things.) Not so much for me, especially the pulling weeds part, but I do love hanging out in gardens and eating fresh produce from my or anyone else’s garden. Maybe for some people, going to the gym is. But I doubt it. Dancing, horseback riding, swimming, yoga, golfing, tennis, etc., is for a lot of people, though. You know the difference because of the way you feel when you think about, or are engaged in, the activity.

At the present time, I have two non-negotiables. I read something inspirational every single morning, first thing. I go to the bathroom, make a cup of tea, and go back to bed and read before I start my day. (This year it is Mark Nepo’s THE BOOK OF AWAKENING.) And I Godwalk typically five days a week. This morning I started making myself happy while I was shaving my legs as I started writing this blog post in my mind. I took my Godwalk mid-day. I sang Lorde on the way to the office. And I took a break at the office mid-afternoon to start working on this post. When I got home, I poured a lovely glass of pinot noir and am flushing out the writing now before heading into the kitchen to make tacos, which are fun to cook and I immensely enjoy eating. I will hula hoop later too (which I am darned proud of myself for learning to do at the age of 47) because that sounded like more fun than going to the gym. Which I will likely do tomorrow before…acting class!!!! J

I am challenging myself to do one good thing for my essential self every day, starting with through the end of this month. But really forever. I challenge you to try it for a week! Let me know what you discover!!

Contrary to what you may have been taught, there is nothing frivolous or superficial about what you want. It isn’t a luxury that can wait until you’ve taken care of all the “serious” business of life. It’s a necessity. What you want is what you need.” –Barbara Sher, WISHCRAFT

Laura’s Home Movie Popcorn Recipe

Put 3 tablespoons cooking oil into a heavy four quart pan and add 1/3 to 1/2 cup popping corn kernels. Cover, slightly ajar, and heat on medium, shaking occasionally, until popping slows. (Yes, microwave popcorn works in a pinch, but this is better.) Put popped corn in a large bowl and add two tablespoons melted butter, sprinkle liberally with grated parmesan cheese (try real fresh cheese rather than from the green can – I buy the already grated kind and stick it in the freezer) and add some ground sea salt. Stir well. Don’t make this when you’re on a diet, but it’s really good on a shitty Sunday when you’re watching back to back movies on the Hallmark Channel.

Life is not intended to be simply a round of work, no matter how interesting and important that work may be. A moment’s pause to watch the glory of a sunrise or a sunset is soul satisfying, while a bird’s song will set the steps to music all day long. –Laura Ingalls Wilder

Authentically Yours,

Laura

Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. I Give You My Word

I Give You My Word

Was there any one particular word you were labeled with as a child? Was that word true about you?

I remember a handful of words placed on me. Motor-mouth, for example, was one I heard on the school bus. Apparently I liked to talk a lot on the bus. (No wonder I’m a writer and actor now.) But that’s not “the word”…I’ll get to that in a bit. J

Recently I facilitated a “practice run” weekend workshop. As providence would have it, the participants able to make it that Saturday and Sunday received some pointed insights from the process, while giving me hugely valuable feedback.

One of the most poignant exercises was sharing our “word.” This stemmed from something I read in Julia Cameron’s THE VEIN OF GOLD (G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1996) wherein she shared a story about composer Michael Hoppe (http://www.michaelhoppe.com/). I have read Cameron’s books before – but, interestingly – didn’t pull this one (a gift) out again until after I had met Mr. Hoppe personally. I sang one of his songs at the Transformational Voice Institute graduation ceremony, after I had completed the apprentice voice teacher training. I find Michael Hoppe to be gifted, gentle, insightful, and basically a wonderful man.

Paraphrasing Cameron, Michael Hoppe was denigrated a “dreamer” as a child and not encouraged to take his music and composition dreams seriously. As a result, he became an executive in the record industry, representing other artists’ works. One “happy” day (Hoppe himself was mortified at the time) his own work accidentally came up at the end of the reel of music he had presented sharing the works of other composers. But that accidentally-at-the-end-of-the-tape-composer was precisely what that particular film producer was looking for. And the “dreamer” began to embrace the dream.

For one of my workshop participants, the word was “sensitive”, feeling everything, it’s like I need to walk on egg-shells around you.

MY word was “instigator.” Always the one starting things. I knew how to get things going. Yet I often suppressed that gift because I had a feeling it was a “bad” thing. Thankfully, I came to embrace my instigator as an innovator and connector later in life.

I encourage you to identify your word, whatever it might have been. And then turn it around…what are the innate strengths in that word? In you?

I want every little girl who’s told she’s bossy, to be told instead she has leadership skills. –Sheryl Sandberg, CEO of Facebook

Authentically Yours,

Laura

Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. Authentic Expression in the Home

Authentic Expression in the Home

I knew from a young age I needed my surroundings to reflect how I felt inside. I was fortunate to have a bedroom of my own growing up, and I always decorated it in ways that made me feel good. (Never-mind that for much of my adolescence that meant many posters and magazine pages of a sometimes shirtless Erik Estrada—whom I did meet in my 30’s—my first really big dream come true!!)

Authentic expression at home is so crucial to me I don’t think about it; I just do it. Whenever I move (which seems to be fairly often, something I didn’t expect when I was that adolescent in my personally decorated bedroom kissing posters of Erik Estrada or pretending my pillow was his lips) the first two things I do are start to unpack and decorate one space, and then find a walking route. This happened again when I rented a house with my fiancé early March, and this time it wasn’t just my space but his, the cats, and ours. Yikey Crikey.

I have certain ideas of a color scheme, pieces of furniture, etc., but I also just go by how I feel and what calls to me. I avoid clutter and buying or hanging onto items other than those which are useful or I find beautiful, “things” that lift my spirit. Often with little expense. Here are a few examples.

I wanted red and gold in the living room, after years of green (my favorite color) and releasing the furniture I brought with me from my marriage after my divorce. Note the round wool rug in this photo. I found it at Cost Plus/World Market for three hundred bucks. (Actually $299.95, and I sometimes wonder if the world of retail will EVER get over this deceptive and pointless routine.) I waited until it was on sale, and I had a coupon, and brought that rug home for $63 about four months after I first laid eyes on it. It’s still one of my favorite purchases, over three years later. 

I found a long, low dresser, nightstand, and bed-head-and-foot-boards by the side of the road, while I was walking, for $20. When I called, I found the $20 included delivery (because I asked)! Turned out the quality wood furniture (finished in an unfortunate shade of almost green ivory-ish) had been in the family for three generations. After our move, we repainted the dresser and nightstand deep brown, via spray cans from Home Depot, for approximately $30 and not a whole lot of our time. The waiting-for-it-to-dry time was more than the painting time! (George removed the hardware beforehand and put it back on when everything was dry.)

George wanted to take photos of me through these arched openings at the El Morro Fort in San Juan when we spent a week in Puerto Rico late February. A girl and her singing brother (whom I found myself singing with) were running through while George was trying to take the photos. However this happened, each photo ended up with a slightly different shade, which can only be explained by clouds shifting outside or mystical forces. Or perhaps a camera glitch! But they were all taken so close together it’s odd. You can see the girl in two of the photos, running in and running out. I am in love with her. And her brother I sang with who is not in the photos. When I decided to have these photos enlarged and framed, I ran across a 40% frame sale at Aaron Brothers.

 

Five tapas I bought in Tahiti in 1998 are still with me. I don’t remember how much they cost, but they didn’t sell in my last moving sale, and I still have them and still love them. But this one was way too small over the dresser for my aesthetic sense. I considered a number of things, including taking my own photos, looked at the Saturday Market, etc. Then I remembered this painting by my Aunt Barbara that my mother had hanging in the hallway. I mentioned it to George and he suggested we take a photo of it while we were in South Dakota visiting my family over the week of July Fourth, and then make the print into a canvas transfer.

I thought that was a great idea, and mentioned it to Mom when George and I were there. Wouldn’t you know it? Mom had taken down all of the artwork in the hallway. She wasn’t using the painting anymore; it was being stored in the basement. She said I could have it. My heart leapt – I had wanted that painting for years. Cost of shipping: less than $16. This is a priceless piece of artwork in our bedroom, created by a woman I love dearly who is now on the other side of the veil. She must have laughed from “above”, knowing how many stops we made at UPS stores and USPS outlets the day after the Fourth of July, until we finally found one open in a grocery store in Sioux Falls.

Cheers to Aunt Barb, a woman whose home (from her in-house hair salon, to her paintings, to the kitchen where she made screwdrivers to drink and cooked delicious foods to eat) reflected her awesomeness. I hope someone remembers me one day as fondly as I remember Aunt Barb.

Authentically Yours,

Laura

Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. The Spice of Life

The Spice of Life

I am now back to writing after my trip to South Dakota. And this isn't what I was planning to write.This is a letter to one of my favorite authors and an invitation to spice up your life!

            Dear Kate,  

            Now that I’m back and somewhat recovered (bah-ha) from my trip to visit family in South Dakota…here is a cross-country package from Portland, Oregon to Portland, Maine! Ta-Da…the seasoning packets with recipes from Cuisine Mentor I mentioned to you on Facebook. I decided we should drive across the bridge to Sellwood and find some nice salt and pepper for you at Savory Spice Shop as well. I would have gotten some of the olive oils, vinegars and/or hot sauces, but I didn’t want to mess with packing and shipping anything liquid.

            Let me know how this stuff works for you, if you will, as I’m planning to do much of my holiday shopping this year through these two companies, both based here in the Portland area. I never really need an excuse to go to Sellwood anyway. It’s a cool area of town, and when I decide to go hiking at Tryon Park (which we didn’t today) that is right on the way. Sellwood is filled with older, every-one-looks-different (rather than the whole neighborhood being erected a few years ago by the same developer) houses, antique shops, one store dedicated to soaps, another to creative collage, a couple cool art galleries, people leave water bowls out for dogs on the sidewalk…I’m sure you get the idea. J

            Today George (my fiancé) and I drove over there after an amazing service at the COEXIST Celebration and had lunch at the Grand Central Bakery, one of my favorite places in the Universe to get a mocha – with REAL whipped cream – in a cup the size of a soup bowl, on a saucer. You have to ask for the whipped cream light if you don’t want it on your face when you take a sip, and if you stir it in with a spoon it flows all over the sides and onto the saucer. Which is perhaps why they use them. You could use a straw. Anyhoo, I digress.

            I mentioned briefly on FB that I have a personal story in regards to Cuisine Mentor. It all started at the Portland Saturday Market. Well, no, it actually all started at Lake Grove Chiropractic Clinic in May of 2010 when my back – especially the left trapezius – was bugging me so badly I absolutely had to book a massage or I may have climbed a wall. Well, no, rather I would not have been able to climb anything because of the physical discomfort I was experiencing. And I remembered this chiropractic clinic across the street from my apartment offered massage therapy, naturopathic medicine, acupuncture, etc., I called them, and was told a therapist named George had an appointment available that evening right after my work time ended.

            I booked that appointment and kept going back every time I needed a massage because George helped me – his touch, skill and energy were therapeutic. Before your mind even goes there (it already has, right?) I will tell you George had never dated a client and had a personal philosophy that he never would. And I never thought of him in a romantic or sexual manner either, anymore than I would my dentist or my gynecologist. I was usually the last client of the day because I would go after work and the gym…so everyone would be gone in the clinic but us, and George would close up after I left. We got to talking, with him behind the reception desk and me on the other side. Sometimes for up to a half hour or more at a time. I developed a sort of friendship with this really nice and cute guy who helped me feel better, physically. We both liked music and became friends on FB because of a music link I wanted to get from him.

            And then one day around the time of the US open tennis tournament, during or after a massage, it came up that we both had played tennis in the past and would like to again – but just for fun and exercise, without keeping score or serving or being competitive. George found his tennis racquet, I replaced mine that had been stolen from my car several years prior, and got a pair of shoes and a can of balls.

            There is much more to this story surrounding a minor uterine surgery I had already scheduled, that George took me to the hospital for at 4:00 in the morning – not insisting, rather making it very clear he was available and wanted to – when I was planning to take a cab. But the deal is we went to the Saturday Market after batting the tennis ball around twice. That’s when I figured out he was asking me on a date, and we weren’t just tennis buddies after all.

            We found the Cuisine Mentor booth and I tasted several of the wonderful samples. I bought four seasoning packets for twenty bucks and rifled through them as we walked, wondering which one I would make first. I decided on the Moroccan chicken, and said so outloud. George asked, “Is that when you are inviting me over for dinner?” I said yes and how about next Friday and he said sure.

            I admit I was a little skeptical. Green olives and dates along with everything else? I chopped and diced and prepared the night before, so I could just make myself pretty after work on Friday and stick it in the oven before George came over. The Moroccan chicken was sublime, and the rice and salad as well. We became boyfriend/girlfriend that night – 10 days after our first walk to the tennis court. We’re engaged now, since 10/13/13. When people ask if we’ve set a date for marriage, the response is “One of these days.” I like that. We like that.

            Much like these wonderful seasonings.

            Ah, ah, ah….the spice of life!! Enjoy, Kate.

Authentically Yours,


Laura

Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. The Loincloth

The Loincloth

I head out on vacation (to see my family in South Dakota) on Sunday and won’t be writing for a couple of weeks. After I get back, I will be interviewing Barry Dennis (http://www.barryadennis.com/), a truly inspiring speaker and remarkable writer and musician. Barry, one of the most multi-faceted and talented people I know, founded the COEXIST Celebration in Portland, Oregon, which I now consider my spiritual home. I’m thrilled to be a member of the COEXIST visionary group, which I will write more about after I interview Barry.

For now, here is something of particular interest for any of you who – like me – often look at the massive consumerism in our society, shake your head, and go WTF…? (Or something along those lines, especially when you find yourself actively engaged in it!) This is an excerpt from Barry’s Book, THE CHOTCHKY CHALLENGE (Hay House, April 2012), a book I highly recommend.

            The Loincloth

            In the 13^th century, a great master lived in a cave near a small village in Nepal at the base of the Himalayas. Today that village is known as Katmandu. At this time, however, there were fewer than 500 villagers. The master had renounced everything of the world. He had need of nothing other than his robe and sandals. He took only one new student every ten years. When the time came for a new student, several young men from the village made their cases but only one showed true promise. His name was Fu.

            After a year of tutelage, it was time for the student to denounce all things of the world. He was to learn to trust the universe to provide, as did his master teacher, who proudly presented his student with his own humble, flowing garb. And so it began. The student found a cave nearby to be his home. He was to do nothing but meditate until the master returned from a spiritual trek for an undisclosed amount of time.

            Fu was quite content. The universe did provide, and he was happy. He lived in harmony with nature and was greatly loved by the villagers. One day some friends came for a visit, and there was Fu, sitting blissfully on a rock in his cave.

            “Fu, you would be much more comfortable with a loincloth,” one of the villagers remarked.

            Fu replied, “I have renounced all things of the world. I am content and happy with nothing but that which my master has given me to wear.”

            “As you wish,” his friend said. After they left, however, Fu began to consider a loincloth. Maybe it would be more comfortable. But then he remembered his master teacher’s words and was conflicted. It is said that he meditated on this idea for many months: to get a loincloth or not to get a loincloth.

            Finally one day he thought, What could it hurt? So he went to the village and, because he was so loved by the villagers, the cloth maker gave him a loincloth.

            He used his loincloth religiously to sit upon as he meditated. He did have to go to the river every so often to wash it, which cut into his meditating time, but it seemed to be a fair exchange.

            Then one day he came to get his loincloth off the branch of the tree where he hung it to dry, only to find several holes. It appeared as though rats had found the loincloth quite appetizing. He considered letting it go. However, he had gotten used to it. It was cushy. So, he went to the village to get a new loincloth, but this time the cloth maker wanted him to pay. He didn’t have any money, so the cloth maker accepted an IOU.

            Fu also got a cat, with a similar arrangement, to chase away the rats. This worked beautifully. The cat chased the rats so the monk could have his cloth. However, the cat became scrawny. He needed more nourishment than the occasional caught rat, so Fu got a cow for milk for the cat who protected the loincloth so Fu could sit on it and meditate. Soon, however the cow became scrawny. There wasn’t enough grass around the cave for the cow to graze upon. So Fu began to work the land to feed the cow that fed the cat that kept the loincloth from getting eaten by the rats so Fu could meditate.

            Working the land, of course, cut greatly into his meditation time. He was making a little profit on the extra grass, so he hired his friends who had recommended the loincloth to work the land so he could get back to meditating. Soon there was so much grass he had to hire more people from the village. It became quite an enterprise. The villagers worked very hard and became strong. They made up songs and even danced as they worked the field. However, over time, they grew unhappy. They didn’t like the working conditions and formed a village union. They made many demands. Fu spent most of his time now dealing with the unhappy villagers. He built a kind-of office and what today would be called a “break room” for the villagers. He also hired a manager.

            Fu was stressed, but had very little time to meditate for release. At least when he did, he had a loincloth to sit on. The cave no longer seemed appropriate, so he built a home next to the office and the break room. He didn’t sleep very well, though, because he was concerned about his loincloth. Each day he milked the cow that ate the grass that fed the cat that kept the rats from chewing on it.

            The next season there was a great drought. They could not grow the grass that fed the cow that fed the cat that kept the rats from getting into his house and chewing up his loincloth. The business went under, and the villagers were very upset with Fu. Under so much stress he had forgotten to pay back the IOU for the cat and now he barely had enough to reimburse the cloth maker. When he tried to return the cat, it ran away while chasing the rats who had just absconded with his loincloth. He ended up paying back the cat lady with his sandals and the robe off his back. He then became known as the naked beggar. Cold, dirty, and hungry all the time. A few years later, the master returned. He barely recognized his student, there in the street, nude.

            He said to his apprentice, “My son, what happened?”

            With great remorse, the student, unable to hold eye contact, finally confessed, “Master, I got a loin-cloth.”

            The master shook his head in grave disappointment and said, “You Fu!”

--Barry Dennis (Mythical, from THE CHOTCHKY CHALLENGE)

Authentically Yours,

Laura

Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. Some Authentically Good Recipes

Some Authentically Good Recipes

I recently received an invitation for an e-mail recipe exchange. I care about the person who sent it and wanted to respond, while knowing it would be challenging to find 20 people willing to take the time to share a recipe. I thought about just ignoring it, but to ignore anything from someone I love feels less than authentic.

It had been a challenging day at the office when the invitation came in. I stayed late without having moved my undone tasks to the next calendar day. I wanted to go to the gym before my 5:45 chiropractic appointment. I reallllly needed an adjustment, and I don't mean just in my spine. Doc Harrington did a great job getting my spine adjusted in more places than ever needed before. It took longer to adjust my mental state.

Writing down these recipes and passing them along to my friend, while declining to participate in the recipe exchange, helped. I hope you enjoy them.


Robert Duvall's Mother's Crab Cakes (from Oprah)

-1 lb crab meat

-2 heaping TBSP mayo

-2 eggs, lightly beaten

-1/2 tsp Worcestershire sauce (my "secret ingredient" for everything from meat marinade for grilling to sloppy joes to baked beans)

-1/2 tsp cayenne pepper

-1/4 tsp salt

-1/2 small onion, grated (don't try and dice or food process it - grate it)

-1/2 TBSP mustard powder

-18 Ritz crackers, crumbled

 

***See possible additional ingredients below.

 

Combine all ingredients except the crackers. Add cracker crumbs as close to sautéing as possible so they don't get too moist.

 

Form into desired size patties. Sauté in butter (oil isn't going to work) on medium to high heat (turning it down low isn't going to work) 10 minutes per side. Crab cakes should be crispy outside and moist and juicy inside.

 

Easy tarter sauce: mayo, grated onion, lemon juice, and maybe some sweet pickle relish.

 

***I have to add these suggested ingredients after having my friend Chris Kyle's crab cakes, while I haven't made crab cakes myself since: Red bell pepper, fresh basil, fresh lemon juice, hot sauce. The basil especially added a fresh flavor I just loved. I'm guessing cilantro might work, too. Chris serves his crab cakes with a fresh rosemary aioli sauce.

 

Kale Smoothie

 

I recently purchased a Vitamix and am now making my own smoothies. Here's one of my favorites so far. I love the fresh, green taste and all the nutrients I am getting in a glass. I have added banana, strawberries...really, I think you could add just about anything in the fruit or veggie arena and it would work fine. (Maybe not tomatoes, but I might try that too!!)

 

-1/2 apple

-2 C kale leaves

-1 C spinach

-Fat free vanilla yogurt to put in the bottom

-1 TBSP ground flax seeds or flax seed oil

-1 C ice on top

 

Blend until smooth.

 

Fresh Corn Succotash (no lima beans!)

 

I Googled a recipe for corn succotash after falling in love with the dish at The Cheesecake Factory. (It comes with their spicy chicken tenders called "littles", along with amazing garlic mashed potatoes.)

 

-Kernels cut from four ears of corn

-1 red bell pepper, cut into fine half inch strips

-1 yellow bell pepper, cut into fine half inch strips

-1/2 onion, diced

-2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

-1 TBSP fresh thyme leaves

-1 TBSP fresh bay leaves, chopped

-About 1/8 C olive oil

-About 1 1/2 TBSP butter

-Salt & pepper

 

In a large skillet, heat oil and butter over medium high heat. Add garlic and onion, cook until translucent, about four minutes. Add the corn and bell peppers, season with salt and pepper, and cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are just tender, about 10 minutes. Add the herbs a minute or two before the veggies are done.

 

Potatoes Deluxe

 

Now for something truly fattening, not healthy, and really good and always a hit with dinner guests...

 

-2 lb. bag frozen hash brown potatoes, thawed

-1 C diced onion

-16 oz. sour cream

-1 can cream soup (chicken or celery for vegetarian)

-1/2 C butter, melted

-8 oz. shredded cheese

-Salt & pepper or other seasonings to taste

-Crushed potato chips (1 C) for topping

 

In large bowl combine all ingredients except for topping. Spread into 9x13 cake size pan, top with crushed potatoes chips. Bake at 350 for about 45 minutes.

 

And two last tips: for either chicken salad or tuna salad (the kind made with mayo to spread on sandwiches or tortillas)...add some diced jalapenos (I'm talking pickled from a jar, not fresh in this case), shredded cheese, and in the case of tuna salad, two boiled eggs, diced with one of those wonderful egg slicers that cost like three ninety nine at your local store.

 

Enjoy cooking, putting love into the food, and eating with loving appreciation!!

 

Authentically Yours,

 

Laura