If I were his Chef: Albert Hannemann

There is a lot to be said for cosmic winks.

Signs from The Universe, that is...that say, "YES. Carry on. You're on the right path."

A week ago on my food tour, I had the pleasure of hosting a beautiful couple from Florida. I learned later from my other tour guests that he was a volleyball player, which explained why he was so incredibly fit. They had been in LA to enjoy the Manhattan Beach Open.

On my drive home that day, I revisited wonderful memories of having spent time with Albert Hannemann and his cousin Eric Fonoimoana of the AVP (Association of Volleyball Professionals) over the past few years. Eric has since retired, and Albert is still with the AVP tour. Just yesterday at the top of my Facebook news feed, was a post from him about this weekend's Hermosa Open.

That was my cosmic wink. For a week now, Albert has been my "muse" for this #3 in my series of 23 "If I were their Chef" stories.

It was my joy and privilege to be associated with both of these men, and last year I hosted them on (the April 24 episode of) my SportsBites radio show. Albert "popped in" to join Eric and surprised me at the last minute. I listened to the archived show the other day and had to laugh, again, at how excited I was to hear his voice on the line.

Now this (story and recipe) is my surprise to him (shh, don't tell!).

"Al-B" has been with the AVP since 1993, and is a native of Redondo Beach. His Gobeachfest and Volleyball Vacations companies have kept life prosperous, fascinating, and certainly beautiful for him, with excursions to exotic destinations like Turks and Caicos Islands. He has also done his share of modeling and media-spokesperson apperances and promotions.

When he's not awe-inspiring fans on the sand or in front of the camera, he is making a profound difference in the lives of children in the community. He has been a Big Brother, and coaches volleyball for Boys&Girls Clubs in LA and Venice. The foundation Dig 4 Kids, in which he supports his cousin Eric, is committed to improving the lives of less-privileged youth, through education and exercise. A few years ago I volunteered to work with their class at a school in Carson as an after-school tutor. The children and I read, wrote, chatted up SpongeBob and Dodgers baseball. I had tremendous fun being surrounded by 10-year-olds! I positively loved it and was particularly inspired by Albert and Eric and the impact they had on the children. Because of their contributions - their so generously sharing who they are and their remarkable gifts - so many more children are choosing to stay in school. And so many more now have a passion for volleyball, which has changed their lives - all for the better.

On my radio show, we had to give food and family its fair time and attention. I learned he and his wife are proud parents of 3 little girls, the youngest of which (I believe) celebrated her first birthday earlier this year. We talked about family traditions and he told me that Wednesdays and Saturdays are "Candy Days" in their home; those are the days his daughters can have a piece of candy. (He knows he's hard-core!) We all laughed but seriously he said they aren't inclined toward soda pop, sweets, junk food, etc., because they're not habits. Like father, like daughters.

When I asked "what do you miss from home?" when traveling, knowing his professional schedule can be grueling, his response warmed my heart. Over the years he has made so many friends from his Volleyball Vacations, that he's more than welcome I trust, to stay in private homes when travelling with the AVP.

"So I get to have the home-cooked meals," he said, with great joy. "And that has been so nice. It's made a huge difference for me." And I'm sure for his hosts as well.

Now, if I were his Chef, I would definitely want to honor his outstanding career, and be clever (a nod to his versatility) and healthy about it at the same time. I'd also need to create something reminiscent of summer and the beach.

There was a news story last weekend about the lot of squid that were washing up on California beaches, and it got me thinking about (black) squid ink pasta. I just noticed on his FB page that he is associated with a volleyball group in Italy, so he might appreciate this Ligurian gourmet signature. The colors of the AVP volleyball and logo are black, white, and yellow.

This pasta dish goes vegetarian but, shrimp or chicken breast would be nice substitutes. Yellow summer pattypan squash is brimming on fresh farmers markets' tables at this hour, and is delicious grilled, as is your choice of protein. This whole dish is simple and fabulous, laced with fresh lemon and a drizzle of fine olive oil. If you're not able to find squid ink pasta, just use the white. Finish to serve with a generous fresh grind of black pepper ... you get the idea ...

Black&White Pasta with Yellow Summer Squash, for Albert Hannemann

1/2 lb squid ink pasta (available in Italian or gourmet specialty markets)
1/2 lb linguine pasta
Extra-virgin olive oil, salt, pepper for brushing
1 lb. extra-firm tofu, cut in 6 slices
1 lb. yellow pattypan squash, stems trimmed; cut in 1/2" thick slices
Juice and zest of 3 fresh lemons
about 3 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
2-3 cups white wine or vegetable broth, or mix of both
2 Tbsp butter
Freshly ground black pepper
Sea salt to taste

Cook black and white pasta together in large stockpot of rapidly boiling water, until al dente; drain and set aside.

Prepare grill for high heat. (You may wish to line grill with foil.) Brush tofu and squash slices with olive oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper. Place on grill and cook until marked and soft. Sprinkle with a little lemon juice/toss with zest as pieces are removed from grill. Let cool slightly, then slice tofu and squash into thin strips.

In large skillet, heat 3 Tbsp olive oil and add garlic over medium heat. Stir garlic through the oil, then add remaining lemon juice and zest. Add about 2 cups wine or broth, and bring to a boil. Let liquid reduce slightly by cooking over medium-high heat for about 5 minutes. Swirl butter and let melt into sauce. Taste and adjust seasoning with desired salt and pepper.

Add pasta, tofu, and squash to pan. Stir gently to heat all ingredients through. Transfer to serving bowl and garnish with black pepper and a final drizzle of olive oil if desired.

Yields 4-6 servings.

If I were his Chef: Sebastien Frey

Tuesday (14 July) was Bastille Day, the French national holiday. Years ago, this did not mean much to me, but it does now that I have extended family and friends in France that I adore. I like to celebrate the day by making Salad Nicoise, then wishing someone would make me a Parisian nutella crepe.

In my short tenure as tifosa (a rabid Italian soccer fan, feminine), I've learned that when it comes to world football, France and Italy really do not like each other. At all. This is really too bad, since I love being Italian and have a passion for things French.

Regarding the pleasures in life, I prefer the code "yes and more" (as in, bring them on) as opposed to "either-or" (as in, having to choose between them). So I love finding ways to appreciate the best of both the Italian and French worlds. At the same time? All the better.

Two words: Sebastien Frey. (In Europe, there is an accent over the first 'e' in Sebastien.)

I think this French-born goalkeeper for Italy's Fiorentina football club adds his own brand to "the world's most beautiful game". Certain French friends encouraged me to fall in love with their national players, and suggested I start with him but, I was one up on them. Frey is so good at what he does and is so much fun to watch that when a Fiorentina match is televised when I am home, I feel like the gods are being particularly kind to me that day.

He was born in the Rhone-Alpes region of southeastern France, not far from northwestern Italy.
Only the first two years of his professional career were spent in Cannes, and he has played in Italy since 1998. His grandfather and father were professional footballers, and his younger brother also plays in Italy.

Lovable on and off the field, he and his very pretty wife Roberta have a son and daughter. He is known for his bizarre hairstyles (and sometimes sideburns; see photo), and I can't wait for the new season to begin in late August, hoping we won't disappoint. The way he speaks Italian can only be described one way: silky.

Colorful Italian jerseys in Milano, Parma, Verona, and now Firenze (Florence) have all been worn with his signature style and grace. We see that he also clearly chooses his food cities well.

If I were his Chef, I couldn't not create something incredibly delicious and sexy with a touch of romance, because I love this man.

I'd take Italian tiramisu and twist it up with chocolate&raspberry, which marriage I love as much as French&Italian. If anyone can do chocolate and raspberry just right, it's the French; I'd use imported dark chocolate and Chambord liqueur. Italy's dreamy, creamy tiramisu absolutely matches la sensualita (Italian for sensuality) that Sebastien Frey exudes. In fact, I recommend fingers as utensils.

Classic tiramisu is typically made in a straight-edged pan, cut, and eaten in neat squares. Do that if you must. Mine would be prepared in my red heart-shaped ceramic dish (true story) and served with ... whatever is handy.

Buon appetito, bon appetit!

Chocolate-Raspberry Tiramisu for Sebastien Frey

Make raspberry sauce:
1/3 cup sugar
1/3 cup water
1 pint fresh raspberries, about 1 cup
Make simple syrup by combining sugar and water in saucepan until sugar is dissolved. Pour over raspberries in bowl, let cool. Press raspberries and syrup through fine mesh strainer. Discard solids, place strained raspberry syrup in saucepan and add the following:
1 Tbsp cornstarch
2 Tbsp lemon juice
1 tsp cinnamon
Heat until boiling and sauce thickens. Remove from heat and stir in:
2 Tbsp vanilla or Chambord liqueur or Amaretto
1 Tbsp butter

Make sweet cheese mixture:
3 egg yolks
1/4 cup milk
1/4 cup sugar
2 Tbsp vanilla or liqueur
Beat eggs with milk and sugar until dissolved. Place over double boiler, bring to boil, stir for about one minute. Cover and refrigerate. When cooled, whisk in:
8 oz mascarpone (Italian cream cheese)
until smooth and creamy. Set aside.

Make creamy chocolate mixture:
8 oz heavy whipping cream
2 Tbsp powdered sugar
3 oz dark chocolate, melted
3 Tbsp cold espresso
Beat cream until stiff. Whisk in sugar, chocolate, espresso; combine gently and thoroughly.

16 ladyfingers
1 pint fresh raspberries, about 1 cup

Make tiramisu:
Dip each ladyfinger in raspberry sauce. Place cookies side-by-side in 8" or 9" glass or ceramic deep baking dish (or something like it). Spread with half the sweet cheese mixture. Sprinkle half of the fresh raspberries, press gently into sweet cheese. Top with half the creamy chocolate mixture. Repeat layers, starting with dipped cookies and ending with the chocolate mixture.

Refrigerate for at least 3 hours.

Yields dessert for two, and leftovers for breakfast.

If I were his Chef: Brad Ausmus

Baseball is the theme I’ve chosen to start with, in my new “If I were their Chef” series. I intend to write about athletes from all over the world in these stories and create a recipe for each of them; a total of 23 by December 31, 2009. Baseball is my favorite American sport, the one I grew up with and, I believe that all good things begin at home.

The Dodgers' Brad Ausmus is one of America’s Sweethearts, and I think he ought to be recognized as such.

Born and raised in Connecticut, he is an Ivy League graduate of Dartmouth college. His Major League Baseball career has delighted home fans in San Diego, Detroit, and Houston, and now his presence graces Los Angeles. We are so lucky.

He is and has always been a catcher, and like many great catchers, he is a true class-act and seems to magnetize the respect and admiration of nearly everyone. Having been his fan for years, I’ve seen him - more than once - be the first to speak highly of fellow players, including those being scrutinized in the press. He is an award-winning and exemplary player, teammate, positive role model, and the happily married father of two little girls he naturally adores.

He is also incredibly handsome (see photo)! When Diane Sawyer was once going to throw out a ceremonial first pitch to him, she was so nervous and excited she was nearly giddy with giggles. When he learned this, he said he was honored that she felt that way about him, and that meeting her was his privilege.

I had my own privilege of meeting him personally in 2005, when we were hired to cater sushi for his Houston Astros, after a summer Sunday game at Dodger Stadium. He came into the dining area to survey the sushi and confirmed with me all the varieties. (“These are crunch rolls? This is spicy tuna?”) I was impressed, and so excited to have that fun little conversation with him. (I didn’t giggle.)

When the team left the stadium that afternoon, for San Diego, he was still hanging out in the locker room.

“Why did they leave you behind?” I asked him calmly (but really, I was so excited to speak with him again). I couldn’t imagine why they’d do that and I think I told him so!

For years, he has lived in San Diego. He told me that he was going to be driving home, I trust with his family. I learned later that he is an avid surfer, when a friend showed me a feature about “a baseball player from San Diego” in his surfing magazine. Apparently he plans to surf for the rest of his life, when he retires from baseball.

So if I were his Chef, I would set something very California on the table. This recipe is quick-to-prepare with fresh, clean flavors, and has both a classy and sweet element. I created it imagining that he might prefer more time around the table with his family over fussing at the grill. He did say, regarding his daughters and the future of his career, "I could blink and I’ll be at their high school graduation. I don’t want to miss out on everything."

BBQ Glazed Chicken Medallions with Sweet Summer Salsa, for Brad Ausmus

1/2 cup ketchup
3 Tbsp Dijon mustard
1/4 cup maple syrup
Chipotle or Tabasco hot sauce, to taste
Salt and pepper, to taste
Whisk ingredients together for barbecue sauce.

1 lb. boneless chicken breasts, sliced on the diagonal (about 1"-thick slices)

1 white nectarine, pitted, diced
1 yellow peach, pitted, diced
1 pickling (small) cucumber, peeled
1/4 cup diced red onion
3 Tbsp cilantro leaves, chopped
2 Tbsp fresh mint leaves, chopped
Juice of one lime
Salt and white pepper to taste

Choice of tortillas, flatbread, pita pocket bread
Avocado mashed with extra-virgin olive oil and sea salt, optional
Shredded lettuce or cabbage, optional

Prepare grill for high heat. Place chicken pieces on grill. Turn after about 5 mins, just as they begin to mark, and coat pieces generously with barbecue sauce. Continue to grill and baste, turning again, for about 5 more minutes. When pieces are "firm" they are cooked. Combine salsa ingredients; taste and adjust seasonings. Remove chicken from grill, heat bread/tortillas on grill; they will pick up seasonings and be delicious!

Enjoy all fillings wrapped or tucked in tortillas/breads. Yields 4 servings.

(Recipe photo to show up at a later date!)

France comes to town

Antoine's parents just left on Friday night to fly back home, via Paris.

They called from France this morning while I was engrossed in the big matchup between Milan and Napoli (Milan 1, Napoli 0) and didn't even hear the phone. I have saved their voicemail message spoken in both French and English.

How is it possible to love - and now miss - two people so much, whom I had never met in my life? Their son, my homemate for the duration, has apparently rocked my world more than one might think. Or understand.

These two lovely people with such French names, Pierre and Marinette, first came into my view on the morning of my birthday about 2 weeks ago. Antoine had brought them from their hotel to meet me so we could all go to breakfast together. I was walking down the steps of my building, and I started to cry. His mother hugged me and neither of us wanted to let go. When we pulled away, both sets of eyes had tears in them.

Well aware of the quality of food they are used to, what with life at their farmhouse chateau near the sea in southwest France (that is also a bed&breakfast) and all, we took them to my favorite Euro cafe. Of course. They loved it. I learned where Antoine's passion for lots of butter on his bread came from (his father). They were curious about the self-serve coffee in airpots, but at least it was Alessandro brand, and Alessandro is from Italy. 

They spoke their very best English, Antoine translated, and we all laughed a lot. I loved starting my birthday this way. They had brought me fabulous French bath products,  and chocolate bars, for gifts. Their company = my favorite gift that morning.

The next night we hosted them for dinner. Have I ever wished more, that our home was classier than I did that night? Maybe, but I'm not sure. I did tell them what I absolutely believe to be true - and Antoine translated this into French for them, so that I knew they understood what I meant, for certain: My home isn't that spectacular re: design/decor but, the food and hospitality are really good and, somehow once people are there, they are never in a hurry to leave. They understood. Their son has lived here almost 2 years. But I was referring to dinner guests, as well, and they knew that.

I loved that they loved our meal, enough to ask me to come and be their chef at their Le Petit Puy Loup! (They are serious.) 

They loved the antipasti I set out, the first-course creamy butternut-onion-apple soup with caramelized walnuts, the fish and vegetables en papillote (parchment paper), mashed potatoes which they were too full to eat!, handmade roasted garlic-rosemary focaccia, and ahhhhh, the best tarte tatin (apple tart) I think I have ever made in my life, with fresh spiced whipped cream. Marinette and I had a lively conversation - with Antoine translating + some sign language + even a little of Italian on my part since some words are similar in French - about the extolled virtues of freshly grated nutmeg, which I had used in the apple tart. I promised to buy her some whole nutmeg from Penzey's (where I buy mine) before she went back to France.

The next day they all enjoyed Santa Barbara. I recovered from entertaining and had other work to do. They were gone, traveling throughout Arizona, Utah, Nevada, and northern California for the next 10 days. They loved our national parks, San Francisco, and Las Vegas -- not so much but, the Paris hotel was OK with them. They did OK with dining out too, short of a small pizza in Fresno that appeared to Pierre to equal the size of California. The super-sized American thing will always appear curious to Europeans. 

I so belong in Europe.

Anyway, I only had the pleasure of their company briefly again, this last Friday, on Halloween. Which they said is not a big deal in France. Or in Italy, I told them, which is why I am usually in Italy at this hour...

Here was more presents-exchanging before they prepared for their flight home  - they are very big on See's candy, which I had to send home with them and I hope they didn't eat it all on the plane...I had to send Charles, their other son who visited in August, some homemade cookies because I adore him and he has an October birthday too...I had to send their daughter Elys my Dodgers NLCS rally towel, and my pink LA Dodgers cap went to Marinette because Pierre had bought himself a new blue one...and there was of  course the nutmeg, and homemade banana-raspberry-walnut bread, and cookies for the plane, since none of us are big on airline food.

They gave me more French bath products. Yum. I can never have too many of those.

We had our last meal together at Farm Stand, one of my current favorite places on the planet. How well does my life work: We were supposed to eat there on Thursday night but (long story) but we rescheduled for Friday night. Laurent, our host, was not there Thursday but was there Friday, and he speaks French. My beautiful guests had an even more incredibly delightful time because of Laurent being able to visit in French with them, and what can I say...the food there was spectacular as usual, we laughed hysterically about some slip from Antoine about "37 years of ketchup", and now we love each other all the more from having had another magical experience together around the table.

The piece de resistance- I agreed to sign in writing, that I would visit them in France in 2009. For the record, we both have a signed copy of that contract.  

How much did I not want to say au revoir ?? I just love them. I wish we had had more time together but, there is that fulfillment of my contract for next year to look forward to. And then there was that brief discussion of their b&b needing my services as chef...Can you guess how much I cannot wait to explore all this further?

The little Figaro experience in the last post? I know it all gave way to this. My heart about swells each time I think of how blessed I am to have this family to love in France. 

And Antoine? He's still here for a while. 

We're both pretty happy about that.

Tante Cose: Figaro, Magic, Music and, Love

Tante cose means "all good things" in Italian. 

Could I guess, out of the blue, that a little Italian fairy tale would impact my heart so much? I could not.

I promised in my last post that my dream about Figaro, the little kitten in Pinocchio, would make a good story, so here it is.

Actually it wasn't a dream really, just a whisper from wherever whispers come from in your sleep (and these weren't the Italian whispers from...oh never mind...whole separate story). 

The week before my birthday, on the Sunday morning, I woke up about 3 or 4 am, wondering what the name of the kitten was, in Pinocchio. I do not know why I was wondering this but, I was. I said to my angels I guess, "please, tell me the name of the kitten in Pinocchio". When I woke up again a couple hours later, I knew that his name was Figaro.

So, being the intuitive, "oh this must mean something!" kind of girl I am...I rack my brain and my Italian dictionary to learn what "Figaro" means, and nothing jumps out at me (from my brain, or the dictionary). Fine.

I write to some friends of mine who post fabulous notes on one of our favorite online forums that is about the Law of Attraction, intuition, how to let more love in...and I ask them if anything intuitive pops out at them about my little story.

Is it the black-and-white - am I living my life too 'either-or' right now? Does the cat - I don't know - totem animal - mean something? I looked that up. Cat represents magic and mystery, and? The cat is associated with mythology and a host of goddesses  - that certainly resonates. Hello, help?

What the ladies wrote back, on two counts, was that my story just reminded them of the song, "When You Wish Upon a Star".  And, they said, they just felt like they should tell me that.

OK!!! Something I can use! One sent me two links for the song on YouTube, and then I found one of my own favorite versions, in French! This one, and the others out there, with their beautiful montages of the Blue Fairy Angel in Pinocchio and, all the other Disney princesses, actually made me cry. And for the record, I have no problem -  feminist or other - with fairy tales, love at first sight, handsome princes, etc., so I loved this. 

And now I wish on stars every night. Why not? One beautiful cousin of mine once told me, if you think it means something, then it does.

Somewhere in there, that same Sunday night when I was finding the star wishing videos, I got another intuitive nudge - curious - to find the song from the movie Music&Lyrics, that I saw last year. It was easy to find, and as soon as little Haley started singing, I started sobbing. When Hugh chimed in, more sobs.

Hmm, this is interesting. Let's look at this, my intuitive me says.

Finding a way back into love. It sounds kind of corny, maybe. But, I am here to tell you, it struck a deep chord with me and I took the message to heart. I love the idea of knowing that if I risk opening my heart wider,  something, someone will have my back. I love the idea that this song could be just what I needed to hear the week of my birthday. I love the idea that its message was just for me at that hour and I especially love that a little Italian-named kitten gently took me there; to a place where I feel more loving than I have in a long time, towards so many people and situations in my life. 

What a gift.

Figurare in Italian means symbolize, represent, imagine. Yes, that works.

In the meantime, sometime during my birthday week, Italian itunes was playing the "Somewhere over the Rainbow" arrangement that sounds kind of reggae.... They call it "Cielo nel Cielo" which literally means, 'sky in the sky'. Beautiful. Just a little bonus birthday thing, I figured. 

The weekend of my birthday, Antoine's parents came to visit from France. 

More to love.

That story is next. 

My New Year

Buon giorno!

Yes it's true...I am back. 

Did I know I was so missed for the last duration? I did not. But, my beautiful friend Tina (can I begin to tell you how much I adore her?) was chiding me in no uncertain terms last night over my birthday dinner at Il Toscano where our host Vittorio (another whom I adore) not only made the birthday girl un piatto speciale - pasta alla sea urchin - yum - but back to Tina...she has very much missed my blog.

So here I am, with a pending 4-course meal to prepare for Antoine's parents who are visiting from France ... and Roma and Inter are playing one of THE matches of the season. Ibra just scored. He is so sexy, in that Euro-big-nose kind of way and I especially love him because he's married to an older woman, and yum I just read that he is favored for the Ballon d'Or (Euro footballer of the year; that video shows a recent goal at the very end) but I digress, again. I do have a big dinner party coming up this evening and do I appear concerned about having all those 4 courses prepared well and on time, setting the table, etc? I do not. Did I mention Roma and Inter are playing live at the moment?

So it's my new year, yesterday was New Year's Day. This is usually when I set my resolutions but considering that this calendar year (as of January 2008) I hosted SportsBites radio for 28 consecutive weeks, started Melting Pot Tours with my sister Lisa (have I ever mentioned that I adore her?), have hosted house guests from both Italy and France more than once, started this blog and will soon be starting a new one for our Tours website, have cheffed on a yacht, and I'm sure I've done a host of other things that do not come to mind right this instant...I am sure that it's OK with the gods that I don't make a new to-do list at this hour, I think I'm good for resolutions.

I think I'll just keep doing what I'm doing and ramp up ways to have fun. And laugh. And how to do more of that with the people I love most in the world. Even take it to Italy and France again. Maybe Spain too.

And while we're talking of a perfect world, here are the plans for my special birthday next year. Party for lots of my favorite people and me at the Casa Del Mar Hotel in Santa Monica. Saturday night, 17 October 2009. Rooms and parking for everyone who wants to stay overnight and have brunch the next morning. Amazing tapas, paella, Sangria, birthday dessert, live music and dancing for the party. Spectacular party favors for everyone who comes. Individual (non-coupled) guests of all ages invited to bring a guest. Too much fun.

Before I break here - squash+apple+shallots+sweet potato for soup...then tomatoes, then garlic for antipasti, are waiting to be roasted - here's a quick update in case you were as concerned as Tina that the world was gypped for several months while I didn't blog:

The Soreal Cafe is no longer. It appears to have been replaced by a Botox Center. No further comment.

Sundays are still sacred and I now am even more annoyed when I'm asked to be somewhere since Doll and I usually work on Saturdays now; men, money, family (remember, not necessarily in that order) still being the only things I allow to interrupt my sacred time and space. Antoine's parents are considered family and, yesterday was a company holiday.

My sacred box of Cream of Wheat had to be thrown out because my pantry had a bad case of bugs this summer. I hate that. Rest assured, when we finally have some serious fall weather around her, Red Chef Cream of Wheat Man and I intend to get seriously re-acquainted.

Some friends who are on the same spiritual page as me at the moment have taken to wishing on stars after I shared a dream that I had last Sunday morning about Figaro, the kitten in Pinocchio. Come to think of it, that would make a great story to blog. Like me, if you have no problem with fairy tales, princesses, magic, and discovering a beautiful new voice, I hope you will enjoy one of my favorite new videos here.

Finally, just to assure you that not everything has changed since we last met, I leave you with this ... SportsBites radio may be on hiatus and I don't get to say this out loud as often as I used to, but I still think Alessandro Nesta gives whole new meaning to soccer being the World's Most Beautiful Game.

Inter has scored 3 more times (Ibra - 2 of the 4 goals) in this match which yet again gives credence that some things are destined to stay the same, for at least a while longer. 

Life for them, and me, is very very good and keeps getting better and better.

Dreams do come true: A Cereal Cafe

So Doll (my sister Lisa) and I are around town today, having been interviewed by the Beach Reporter for our new Melting Pot Tours... a fascinating Business Profile (complete with photo) for this Thursday's paper I'm sure, and there we saw it - The Soreal Cafe. A cereal cafe, in Hermosa Beach. (There is no website link, I am so sorry.)

I said to Doll, "you know, I had a thought one day, that every time a new business opens, someone's dream comes true!"

Isn't that a nice thought? Just imagine. Someone wanted to open a cereal cafe. And now they have. This is a wonderful world. I understand that this place has 30 or 40 cereals to choose from, and you can select a combination if you'd like. You can even have your selection with some frozen yogurt. You can, I am sure, have a choice of milks to go with your cereal. You can also have some fresh fruit with your choice or combinations of cereals. The possibilities are probably endless! Unlimited!

Imagine how blessed this cafe's customers must feel. Maybe their (the customers') dreams are coming true, it is entirely possible.

This reminds me of a woman I knew many moons ago who was telling me a story about how she liked to eat oatmeal for breakfast sometimes. Her mother used to make it and she had loved it as a child and so on the morning of this particular story she spun to me, she had gone down to some restaurant and, ordered oatmeal....

You know, I have no recollection whatsoever of what other pearls her story contained because I had so much trouble getting past her craving homemade oatmeal and going out to order it at a restaurant. She owned a fabulous home, with a gourmet kitchen. It's just not right.

Imagine if I had a day where I woke up craving hot cereal and did what? Got out of my jammies, dolled up enough to be seen in public (on a day when I'm craving hot cereal; how long would that take?), and drove to where? The Soreal Cafe?

It has occurred to me whether they serve Cream of Wheat. From the red box. The 2 1/2 minute version. I doubt it.

Oh never mind. 

Let's just leave it at...someone wanted to open a place that served cereal, and now their dream has come true.

Once again we have pure proof, and another reason to absolutely believe what I always claim to be true.

Life is very good.