To Dream a Dream

There once was a wise old man who was said to be writing a book. Year after year passed, but as they went by he was still a very long way from finishing it and reaching the last page. One day, when he was very old, a young man went to visit him. He asked the old man if he did not get impatient from time to time and long to see the book completed.

The old man merely smiled at him as he replied softly. "All my life it has been my goal and ambition to finish writing my book, but an ambition realized is like holding a snowflake in your warm hand. Take away the dream, and what would I have left?"

The old man died in his chair, pen still in his hand, unfinished manuscript laying on the desk in front of him. They said he was smiling happily and looked content.

We all have hopes and dreams. Often these are the motivators that keep us plugging away and moving forward. Hopes and dreams inspire and encourage. As it says in my sidebar . . . you got to have a dream if you want to have a dream come true!


(If you look really closely at this photo you will see a bumble bee that I managed to capture flitting from bloom to bloom)

It is raining here again this morning, and quite heavily. We have a little electronic weather machine here on our kitchen window sill and we could see the rain coming yesterday afternoon. It was a gloriously sunny day yesterday so at least we had that. Todd spent the afternoon puttering about in the garden putting in some bedding plants he had gotten on Saturday. I know one is not supposed to work on the sabbath, but I don't think it's really work for him. I think he rather enjoys it and finds it somewhat relaxing to be digging in the earth.



I am not a gardener, but I do like to enjoy looking at the end result of his ministrations. He was busy putting in all sorts yesterday . . . snap dragons, geraniums, petunias, marigolds, lobelia . . . we have sweet pea seeds to plant up and get started in here. I do love them so. we always have them climbing up underneath one of our kitchen windows and it's such a cheery sight in late August to look out the window and see their pretty coloured blossoms bobbing in the breeze. I believe they are one of my very favourite flowers.



We have an old terra cotta strawberry pot that we use as a base for a birdbath (an upturned bin lid) and he has planted red geraniums in each hold. It should look really lovely once they are all blooming. The birds enjoy this makeshift birdbath so very much and I get real pleasure out of watching them in it, preening and flapping their wings about. The black birds seem to enjoy it most of all and often on a really hot summer's day you will see one in it just sitting, with it's wings stretched out.

I don't know what I'd do without the birds to watch. I get ever so much pleasure out of watching their antics in the garden and listening to their pretty voices, especially this time of year. Even this morning in the pouring rain their melodies wash over me and tickle my soul. I even heard a cuckoo on Saturday morning, and not far away either. Spring has well and truly sprung . . .

From time to time I get a real craving for a burger. Sometimes it's a nice beef burger, made of ground steak, lightly seasoned and stuffed with Stilton cheese and at other's it's this delicious turkey burger, filled with all the flavours of Greece. This one is a real taste pleaser . . . well . . . if you are fond of Greek food at any rate!



*Turkey Burgers a la Greek*
Makes 4

This is a tender and moist burger stuffed full of all the lovely flavours of Greece . . . tangy feta cheese, salty kalamata olives, garlic and oregano . . . dressed simply with lettuce, mayonnaise, sliced tomatoes and red onion. This is a real winner either grilled outside on the barbecue, or in a hot skillet on top of the stove. These are the absolute best! Todd has them in a toasted bun, but I just have one on my plate without the bun and adorned with all the fixings, kind of like a Greek taco salad!

1 lb ground turkey
1 cup crumbled feta cheese
1/2 cup kalamata olives, pitted and chopped
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon italian seasoning
1 teaspoon dried parsley
1 teaspoon dried basil
1 teaspoon onion powder
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
freshly ground black pepper, to taste
( Do not use any salt in these as the feta cheese is quite salty)
To Dress:
Lettuce leaves
Sliced tomatoes
thinly sliced red onions
mayonnaise, if desired
Crusty rolls, split and toasted or Pocket breads (pita)

Allow the turkey to come to room temperature and then place it into a bowl with the cheese and seasonings. Mix well with your hands until well combined. Shape into four patties.

Heat the barbecue or a large skillet on top of the stove and cook the patties, until the juices run clear and there is no pink inside, cooking for about five to six minutes on each side.

Serve on either toasted buns or in split pocket breads with your choice of dressings. Delicious!

Sunday Morning Thoughts . . .

"Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature . . . for the Lord seeth not as man seeth, for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart." ~1 Samuel 16:7

When I was a much younger woman I suppose I was quite pretty to look at, with my slim figure and long curls. I didn't seem to really know it at the time. Nowadays, when I look in the mirror, I see only a glimpse of that younger woman. Some women seem to get more attractive as they get older . . . I can honestly say that has not been the case with me!

We were sitting on the sofa last evening after our dinner waiting for Britain's Got Talent to start. Todd was reading and I was thinking. I started to think about our spirits and what they might look like. Todd mentioned that when Christ appeared to his disciples after his death at first they didn't recognize him. This suggests that he looked quite different than he had before. It was only after he had spoken to them for a few minutes that the light of recognition went on and they realized just who he was.



Could it be that our spirits resemble our hearts? If your heart is the essence of your being and where your spirit resides, and indeed where you feel and think and hope and see, is it possible that this is what you truly look like?

I pondered on that for a few minutes and then decided that this very well might be true. Oh, it is lovely to look nice here on earth, but how much more wonderful it is to cultivate your heart and feelings, to enrich your spirit, to become more Godly and compassionate and loving. To be kind. To have an honest and sincere desire to reach out to those around us and in the world, and to act upon that desire when, if and wherever we can.

The Lord does not look upon us as the world does. He looks on the heart. He, who knows everything . . . is not taken in by a pretty face, or rich clothing or jewels. He is not deceived by externals. He knows our past . . . our present . . . our future . . . because He knows our heart.



I have known some very outwardly attractive people in my lifetime who were truly ugly inside, and my heart goes out to them. They just don't get it, or understand. How much more important it is to develop your heart and your spirit. At the end of the day when our bodies go into the grave, this outer shell that holds the "real" us will disappear with time, going back into the earth from whence it came . . . ashes to ashes, dust to dust . . . our spirits are the part of us that is eternal and that will live forever. This is where our true beauty lies, and this is the part of us that we need to work on most of all . . . as my mama always said . . . "Pretty is as pretty does."

I did another little painting yesterday afternoon. I actually started two, but got only the one finished. I hope you don't mind me sharing them with you. I get ever so much pleasure out of painting them. I have loads of sketches done so be prepared!!! This one I called, Flowers For Mama.



I'll give you a break from the baked goodies today and instead share with you a tasty dish that I tortured Todd with for our supper last night. No, he is not a fan of pasta, but he did enjoy the chicken sauce that I made to put on top. I love pasta myself and crave it often. Once in a while I just have to have some . . . and last night I did! The recipe reads for four, but can very easily be halved for just two, or even multiplied, in which case you will need to use a larger pan, or even two pans!



*Saucy Chicken Pasta*
Serves 4

This delicious chicken dish uses all the elements of Chicken Piccata except there is none of the fuss or bother, just the lovely flavours. The recipe calls for fettuccine noodles, but I always use malfalda. Todd just doesn't care for long slippery noodles at all and copes with shorter fatter ones much better. Whichever pasta you choose to use, make sure you choose one that will capture all of the delicious sauce! Oh, and don't forget some tasty bread to mop up the extras!

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into strips
1 TBS olive oil
2 cups fresh mushrooms, sliced
2 garlic cloves, peeled and minced (more or less to taste)
1 TBS butter
2 cups chicken broth
1/3 cup white wine
the zest of 1 lemon
the juice of 1/2 lemon
2 TBS capers, rinsed and drained
1 TBS cornflour, dissolved in 2 TBS water
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 TBS chopped fresh flat leaf parsley
freshly grated Parmesan cheese
1 pound pasta, cooked al dente and then drained

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium high heat. Once it begins to shimmer, add the chicken pieces and brown them all over until golden brown. Remove with a slotted spoon and keep warm.

Add the butter to the skillet and then brown the mushrooms until golden. Add the garlic, reduce the heat somewhat and then cook for several minutes until golden and fragrant, without allowing it to brown.

Put your water to cook your pasta on and bring it to a boil, adding a tsp of salt to the water. Add the pasta and cook it while you are finishing up your sauce.

Add the wine to the skillet, and let it bubble up. Allow it to reduce for a few minutes and then add the chicken broth, lemon zest, lemon juice and capers. Bring to a quick simmer and allow to cook for about 5 minutes until it has reduced somewhat. Taste for seasoning and add salt and pepper as required. Stir the cornstarch water mixture and then stir it into the sauce, stirring until it thickens and coats the spoon. Add the chicken and simmer for five minutes or so until your pasta is finished cooking.

Drain your pasta well and rinse, then divide it onto heated plates. Spoon the chicken sauce evenly over each plate. Sprinkle each serving with some freshly grated Parmesan cheese and some of the chopped parsley. Serve.

A New Day and Raspberry Lemon Bars

"Who knows but that something wonderful may happen today. Have faith that it will. After all, every morning is a chance at a new day!" ~Marjorie Pay Hinckley

As I lay in bed in those first few moments upon wakening this morning, just before I slipped out from under the covers and went down the stairs, I could hear the gentle tap, tap, tapping of raindrops as they fell upon the skylight in the ceiling above the bed. Yes . . . it is the weekend, and I have a couple of days off . . . and, yes . . . it is raining again. It would be so easy to become discouraged when all it seems to do is rain every weekend.



But there is joy to be found even in the rain. The other day as Todd and I walked in the rain, and I remarked on how much of the darned stuff we have had this spring, Todd immediately broke out into song. (He has a song for every occasion, that man does. That's one of the reasons that I love him so.)

"Life is not a highway strewn with flowers,
Still it holds a goodly share of bliss,
When the sun gives way to April showers,
Here's a thought that we should never miss:
Though April showers
May come your way,
They bring the flowers
That bloom in May;
And if it's raining,
Have no regrets;
Because, it isn't raining rain, you know,
It's raining violets.
And when you see clouds
Upon the hill,
You soon will see crowds
Of daffodils;
So keep on looking for the bluebird,
And listening for his song,
Whenever April showers come along."
~Al Jolson, April Showers



So yes, it is Saturday, and yes, it is raining, but it is not all a complete wash out. In my next moments after feeling a bit discouraged about the rain, my mind immediately filled with all the lovely things I could get done here in the house, now that I would not be distracted by a sunny Saturday and being outdoors. And while I putter here in the cottage, I can think of all the sunny days ahead, and all the lovely flowers that this rain is helping to bring back to life. Already the trees are full of buds and blossoms and life is bursting forth all around us. This is such a beautiful place in the sunshine, but it wouldn't be so without the rain that gently drops upon each leaf and petal and gives them life . . .



Into each life some rain must fall, but after the rain . . . comes the sunshine, and if we're really blessed . . . a rainbow.

Here's the second winner in last week's Make Me Bake Poll. Lucious Lemon Squares with Jam, yet another treat from my big blue binder. These are not your normal every day Lemon Bar. You get the wonderful tartness of the lemon layer, and the tasty buttery texture of the shortbread like base with a lovely sweet layer of raspberry jam sandwiched in the middle. These are truly to die for . . . they are one of my long time favourites! (It's a good thing we had company the other night to help eat all these goodies up!)



*Raspberry Lemon Bars*
Makes 16 to 20 bars

These delicious bars are perfect treats to serve at that springtime tea party or bridal shower. Perfect for entertaining and wonderful as a special treat just to make an ordinary day seem extraordinary, these bars are real winners and always well received! You could leave the raspberry jam out if you like, but, without the jam, they are just another lemon bar. The jam layer is what lifts these delicious bars above the rest!!

Crust:
1 cup unsalted butter, softened
2 cups plain flour
1/2 cup icing sugar, sifted
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1 tsp freshly grated lemon zest

Lemon Topping:
6 large eggs
2 cups caster sugar
1/2 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/4 tsp lemon extract (optional but a nice addition)
3/4 tsp baking powder
4 tsp plain flour

1/2 cup raspberry preserves
Icing sugar

Pre-heat the oven to 180*C/350*F. Butter a 9 inch square non stick baking pan or spray it with some nonstick cooking spray and set it aside.

Combine all the ingredients for the crust in a medium sized bowl and stir with a wooden spoon until a soft dough forms. Spread this mixture evenly in the prepared pan, leveling out with your fingers if need be. Chill for 10 minutes.

Bake in the heated oven for 15 minutes, then remove from the oven and allow it to cool for another 15 minutes in the pan.

While it is cooling combine all the ingredients for the lemon topping in a bowl and whisk well with a wire whisk until blended.

Spread the raspberry preserves evenly over top of the baked crust, and then pour the lemon filling over top.

Place back in the oven and bake for 20 to 25 minutes. Lowser the oven temperature to 160*C/325*F and bake for 20 to 25 minutes longer, or until the filling is set and lightly browned on top.

Remove from the oven and set the pan on a wire rack and let cool completely. Place in the refrigerator for at least 1 1/2 hours before cutting into squares. Dust with icing sugar just before serving.

Any leftovers (as if!!) may be stored in an airtight container at room temperature or in the refrigerator if you prefer you squares to be chilled.

A Cooking Legacy and some Tasty Raspberry Bars

"The key to enjoying cooking is embracing simplicity. Simplicity in food is honesty, warmth, pleasure, modesty, even fairness. Simplicity in cooking is ease and grace . . . Simplicity . . . is not a compromise but a treasure." ~Mark Bittman

I grew up in a home with a mother who was a simple cook. In fact you could always tell which day of the week it was by what we were having for supper. On Monday we always had leftovers from Sunday dinner. It might be cold ham or pork, or maybe even a hearty chicken soup. If we were really lucky we got pot pie. Tuesday we normally got hamburgers and so on it went right through the week . . . spaghetti night, pork chop night . . .

Friday nights were hot dog nights but my mother had a wonderful way of doing them. We had an electric waffle iron/grill and the buns were always buttered and toasted on that. Then she would split the hot dog almost all the way through all the way down it's length and pull it open like a book and then it would get the grill treatment as well, so that is was nicely browned on all surfaces. Served in that buttery toasted bun, with fried onions, mustard and relish, her hot dogs were absolute bliss. Everyone wanted to be invited to our house for hotdog night, I kid you not!



On Saturday nights more often than not we had home baked beans or a stew of some sort, maybe even chili con carne, which was something she discovered in my late teens. Her beans are legendary. She always began them the night before and then would get up really early on Saturday morning to get them on. She'd pick through them, discarding any that were no good and then they'd go into one of her big wear ever aluminum pots. They'd be brought to the boil with a little bit of soda added to the water. She'd simmer them until they were done to her preference, which usually meant her picking a few out of the pot with a fork and blowing on them until the skins split. That meant they were ready for the bean crock. Into the bean crock they'd go along with some molasses, onion, dry mustard, cider vinegar, brown sugar and a splosh of tomato ketchup. The crowning glory would be a piece of salt pork that she'd push down into them just before she popped on the lid and then they'd be put into the oven where they would bake all day, tantalizing us with their smell until we could barely stand it any longer . . . they smelled so delicious. Sometimes we'd have them with some baked ham and scalloped potatoes, just like they served them down at the local church suppers, but more often than not we'd just have a nice big plate of homemade beans with lots of bread and butter. Heaven on earth. Let me just add as well . . . you have not lived unless you have eaten a bean sandwich . . . yes . . . cold baked beans mashed between two slices of buttered bread . . . delicious!

There were seasonal treats as well. Easter always meant that there would be a tasty big pot of her pea soup, made with the leftover bone from our Easter Ham. Thanksgiving meant at least a turkey pot pie or two and a delicious pot of turkey soup. Christmas meant the same . . . except that Christmas was the one time of year that her baking abounded and the larder would be full to bursting with cookies and cakes . . . date squares, feather squares, her delicious war cake, a fruit cake and a mince pie. She made a large one, not tiny tarts.



In late spring . . . early summer . . . she'd drag us out to the strawberry fields where we would be forced to pick berries for what seemed like too many long hot hours under the sun. She would fill the freezer with the tasty red jewels and we would stuff ourselves silly with strawberry shortcakes and pies. In late summer it would be the wild blueberries, which we would pick by the ice cream bucket full. These too would go into the freezer, but not before she had treated us to a homemade blueberry pie or two or three. During corn season we would stuff ourselves with fresh picked corn on the cob, served up with lots of butter and salt. We'd eat corn until we could eat no more, trying to see who could eat the most . . . butter dripping off our chins and fingers . . . nothing on earth tasted better . . . not then . . . not since.

My mother's old wooden cooking spoon has absorbed the smell of many a year, and no matter how many times it has been washed and scrubbed, time's compelling odour abounds. The smell of garlic, onion and tomato paste permeates it and whispers golden memories of evenings shared with loved ones . . . now miles apart.



There was nothing fancy about any of her cooking. It was good, plain, simple, honest food . . . cooked simply and served up family style. Nobody went away from the table hungry and all three of us children look back on those meals with fondness and tender longings . . . It was the food and cooking style of my family's women . . . the style of my mother's mother and her mother before her . . . a delicious legacy sent down through the generations and culminating in me.

At work when there is a dinner party I cook fancy things, complicated things. Dishes that take hours of preparation and countless steps to execute. At home, I confess . . . I do things a lot simpler and I always have done, although I do admit to being somewhat fancier and a bit more adventurous than my own mother was. Basically though, it's still simple home cooking. Todd wouldn't have it any other way, and neither would I. I like to use good, simple, honest ingredients . . . fresh free range organic eggs, Danish butter, free range meats and poultry. I try to cook with a conscience and a sense of responsibility that fits within my budget. I love to entertain and we try to have people over to dinner at least once or twice a month. I serve them what I hope is tasty, well prepared and simple food, served with no pretensions and prepared with love. Nobody ever seems to go away unhappy.

I miss those days when my table was filled to the brim every night with a passel of children and their friends . . . when a pot of mashed potatoes required half of a 10 pound bag and a huge pot to cook them in. There was lots of noise and friendly banter, and lots of good and simple food. I really hope that my children have wonderful memories and favourite dishes that they can remember from their childhood's spent at my kitchen table and meals shared together with family. My old blue binder is stuffed to overflowing with my many recipes collected through the years, each one tried and true, each recipe holding a delicious memory of time spent with loved ones and days gone by . . . perhaps this is the book I should publish . . . the one that would mean the most.

Well, we had a three way tie on my Make Me Bake poll this week! That has never happened before. I will endeavor to bake all three. It didn't hurt that we had company last evening for a bible study group and so I had to provide some refreshments at the end. I was able to bake two of them for that. I'll share the first one I did with you today and the other's will follow. In the meantime I shall have to put up another poll and make the next one a bit more challenging!!!



*Raspberry and White Chocolate Fudge Brownies*
Makes 16

Soft, fudgy and sweet . . . dotted with tart fresh raspberries, these are real treasures. These can be prepared up to 3 days before you wish to serve them. You can store them in an air tight container at room temperature, but don't worry about them being around for very long. They'll be snuffled up right away!

8 ounces of good quality white chocolate coarsely chopped, and divided
1 cup plain flour
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup caster sugar
1/4 cup unsalted butter, softened
2 large eggs, room temperature
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/2 tsp almond extract
1 cup fresh raspberries, or frozen unsweetened raspberries (Do NOT defrost)
Icing sugar

Pre-heat the oven to 165*c/325*F. Butter an 8 inch non-stick square baking pan, or line an ordinary baking pan with parchment paper and butter that.

Place six ounces of the chopped chocolate into a bowl that will fit over the top of one of your saucepans. Partially fill the pan with water and bring it to a simmer, then place the bowl with the chocolate over top, making sure the water does not touch the bottom of the bowl. Melt the chocolate, giving it an occasion stir, until it is smooth and all melted. Remove from the heat and allow to cool for a few minutes. (alternately you may melt it in the microwave being very careful not to over heat it. Use 30 second bursts, stirring each time until melted and smooth)

Cream the butter and the sugar together until well blended. Mix in the eggs, vanilla and almond extracts. Stir in the melted white chocolate. Stir together the flour and salt and then stir this into the chocolate mixture, mixing in only until just blended. Stir in the remaining chopped chocolate, two ounces, and carefully fold in the raspberries , just until distributed evenly. Spread the batter evenly in the prepared pan.

Bake until the top is golden brown and a tooth pick inserted in the centre comes out with moist crumbs attached. You want them to be a bit fudgy. This should take about 40 minutes if you are using fresh berries and 45 minutes if you are using frozen. Remove from the oven to a wire rack to cool in the pan. Cut into 16 squares*, dust with icing sugar and serve.

*Note - I like to line my baking pan with an overhang of parchment paper so that when the brownies are cooled I can just lift them out in one piece. Peel the parchment paper off the sides and then cut into even squares with a large sharp knife.

Pop Bottle Dreams and Deviled Pork Chops

Rules for Being Human:

• You will learn lessons.
• There are no mistakes - only lessons.
• A lesson is to be repeated until it is learned.
• If you don't learn easy lessons, they get harder (pain is one way the universe gets your attention.)
• You'll know you've learned a lesson when your actions change.

~Author Unknown

Some of the finest lessons in life I have learned, has been from making mistakes, and sometimes they have been real whoppers. Those are the lessons that have really stuck . . . the ones that I've learned the most from. I was often very spontaneous and impetuous when I was younger. I'd put my body or mouth in action very often before I put my brain into action. Experience has now taught me with age, that it is much wiser to be silent for a bit longer, and think about things first before acting.

I remember an incident from when I was about ten years old. They were building an addition onto the feed mill in the small Nova Scotia town where we were living in at the time. My sister and I were out snooping around the construction site on a late Saturday afternoon. All of the workmen had gone home, and we were on our own. All the walls for the addition had been framed in, but they were largely open, and you could look right through from one side to the other. There, sitting all together on the second floor, was a HUGE pile of empty pop bottles . . . "Manna from Heaven" to a couple of kids in the sixties. It might as well have been a pirate's treasure chest full of gold. You could turn the empties in to the local Chemist (drug store) and get about a penny in return for each one, which doesn't seem like much today, but was a heck of lot back then in the days of penny candy, when you could get three jaw breakers for one cent. There looked to be at least a hundred there to us. (Probably only about 50, but my story, my literary licence)We both looked at each other with dollar signs in our eyes, and began to think of a way that we could get them into our greedy little hands.

Now, my sister was three years younger than me at the time . . . she still is. :-) I think she kind of looked up to me in a lot of ways. After all, I was supposed to be older and smarter . . . and on this particular occasion, I came up with the brilliant idea that, if we could get me up onto the floor of the second story, then I could lower each pop bottle down to her, one at a time. Then we could take them all and exchange them for cold hard cash. Ohhh, the dreams that plethora of wealth inspired in us. There were ooodles and ooodles of them just sitting there for the taking, each one . . . glinting and sparkling at us in the late afternoon sunshine, and beckoning to us like a siren of the sea to the captain of a ship.

Where there's a will there's a way, and we managed to somehow boost me up onto the second story. I can remember standing there triumphant in my achievement, and feeling quite good as I began to lower the empty bottles down to my sister, one at a time. Each one making me feel richer, and inspiring my greedy little dreams even more. It was hot and dusty work, but the thoughts of an ice cold Nesbitt's orange soda, complete with straw, being drunk in the coolness of the drug store afterwards, while they counted up our wealth . . . spurred me on . . .

It didn't occur to me until the last bottle had been lowered down, that . . . while we had managed to get me up there . . . we had given no thought ahead of time as to how we were going to get me down. Once we had finished our challenge, my mind began to clear a bit, and I began to think, probably clearly for the first time that afternoon . . . How on earth was I ever going to get down ??? The truth is, it's a lot easier to climb up than it is to climb down. Once you're up there . . . down looks ever so far away, and I am quite afraid of heights anyways. Oh how foolish we had been to let the dreams of wealth cloud our judgement and rule our actions. I could see no possible way down, short of jumping and I was too afraid to do that. The tears began to fall. My whole life passed in front of my eyes. Dreams of penny candy wealthy began to fade in the face of my dilemma and I now could see myself aging rapidly and stuck there for the rest of my natural life . . .

There was nothing else for it, but what my sister had to go get my father . . . a fate worse than death itself. He soon came, and yes, he was most annoyed, and yes again . . . I was punished. We did not get to keep the pop bottles. The only thing we managed to acquire that afternoon was a sense of injured pride and a sore bottom as we walked home, our heads hung down in shame, and as I was the oldest and should have known better, my shame was the larger portion. All that work had been for seemingly nothing . . . or was it???

As I lay in my bed that night, thinking over the events of that day, several things came to me. I had learned a few very important lessons from that one rather HUGE mistake.

One . . . taking something that doesn't belong to you always comes with a hefty price tag. Two . . . you must never let dreams of wealth cloud your judgement or garner your actions and three . . . which was perhaps the most important lesson of all . . . when you've painted yourself into a corner and can see no way out, you can always count on a sister to stick by you and help pull you out of any sticky situation, even if it means bringing in the big guns and . . . even if means it's going to hurt. My sister loved me and I loved her. We could depend on each other.

We still can. Throughout my rather messy divorce some years back, my sister was my most stalwart and faithful friend. She supported me emotionally all the way. She never turned her back on me or judged me. She held my hand and was always there . . . with a listening ear and a strong shoulder to lean on, and sometimes even cry on. A sister is a forever friend, and although some two thousand miles of distance may separate us at this time in our lives, our hearts are never more than a few beats apart. I love you sis!

My Todd is a real meat and potatoes man, and nothing pleases him more than the sight of a lovely chop on his plate with a huge pile of mash sitting next to it. He'd be happy with them just seasoned and plainly grilled, but by now he knows that with me . . . nothing is ever that simple! It may not be simple . . . but it's always tasty!

*Deviled Pork Chops*

Serves 4

These chops are always moist, tender and full of flavour. The sauce is absolutely delicious. They go well with rice or potatoes and I like to serve a vegetable on the side. I use a bone in pork chop for the best flavour and then, I know it's not genteel . . . but . . . you get to gnaw on the bone at the end. We all know the sweetest meat is next to the bone!

4 large thick bone in pork loin chops

2 TBS flavourless oil

freshly ground black pepper

FOR THE SAUCE:

2 fat cloves of garlic, peeled and minced

1/2 tsp of salt

274 ml (10 oz) red wine

2 TBS Worcestershire sauce

2 TBS red wine vinegar

2 rounded TBS tomato puree (paste)

2 rounded tsp English mustard powder (Keens)

2 TBS runny honey

2 tsp freshly grated ginger root

1 tsp ground powdered ginger

Stir together all the sauce ingredients in a large beaker and set it aside. Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium high heat. Season the chops well on each side with some freshly cracked black pepper and then add them to the heated skillet. Brown them well on each side. Once you have browned the second side, pour the sauce ingredients over and allow it to bubble up. Reduce the heat and keep the sauce simmering. Continue to let them cook in the sauce, allowing it to bubble away and reduce for about 10 minutes or so, until the chops are well coated and the sauce is thickened, turning the chops frequently. Test one to see if the juices run clear. If so, the chops are done and ready to serve. Try not to over cook them as over cooking really toughens pork. If you find the chops are done before your sauce is as thick as you would like it to be, then remove the chops and keep them warm while you continue to cook and reduce the sauce. Delicious!