A Deep Sadness, Sharing and Southern Fried Chicken

At six and half months into a journey that I would never wish upon my worst enemy I have settled into a deep sadness.

Gone (I hope) are the gut wrenching tear fests, the vomiting, the shaking and the fear.
A gentle, deep sadness has replaced the anxiety and bone crushing grief.

My tears now come in gentle streams. Memories come and go. A song, a thought, a colorful cardinal at my backyard feeder, all bring on a gentle remembrance of a life once lived. A life once shared. Dreams. Hope and promise. A life ended in its prime; cut short by circumstances beyond the control of mere mortals.

I have found that the answer to my grief is giving. Of myself. Of the one talent that I can share. I can cook.

My neighbor, just 36 years young has recently been diagnosed with Lymphoma. She has three young children and is in the fight of her life.

So I cook.

Comfort food.
Nourishing food.
Happy food.
Frivolous Food.
Once a week (sometimes twice) I make the trudge through the snow and slush to deliver something hot.
Something fun.
Something nourishing.
Soup. Bread. Cookies.
Casseroles that can be reheated after a day of chemotherapy. Sweets that can be dispensed to hungry littles.
Soup that soothes a nauseous stomach.
Sweet cornbread.
Roasted Chicken.
A light salad.
Anything that keeps my hands busy and my heart full.

Lest you think I am good. Or a saint; I have found that the answer to my pain is to give. In giving I receive. In giving and contributing to the hope of healing I see life prolonged - life healed.

Life enjoyed and life celebrated. Life at its best - around a table of good food, being shared by people who are in love. In love with life. In love with healing. In love with hope.

I hope you enjoy this recipe. It is designed to put some "south in your mouth" and a smile in your belly. But most of all it is meant to be shared.

Southern Fried Chicken: serves 4 plus neighbors

One whole chicken, quartered into legs, thigh, wing and breast portion. Rinsed and patted dry.
2 cups milk
2 tablespoons white vinegar
1 tablespoon Louisiana Hot Sauce (or Tabasco)
1/2 cup flour
2 teaspoons salt
2 eggs, beaten
2 cups plain bread crumbs
Canola Oil for frying (don't worry about calories or cholesterol - this recipe is all about comfort)

In a deep bowl combine the milk, hot sauce and vinegar, let sit for 10 minutes. Add the chicken. Make sure the milk mixture completely covers the chicken pieces. Refrigerate two hours or overnight (up to 24 hours)

Place the flour in a large ziploc bag, add salt and shake to combine.
Place eggs in a shallow pie plate and beat slightly with a fork.
Place bread crumbs in a second pie plate and set alongside the eggs.

Remove chicken pieces one at a time and shake in flour. Dip in egg, then coat with bread crumbs. Arrange coated chicken pieces on a rimmed cookie sheet. Repeat until all chicken pieces are coated.

Pour and pat any remaining bread crumbs over coated chicken pieces. Refrigerate 1 hour or up to 24 hours.

Heat oil to 265 degrees* in a shallow skillet (if you have an electric frying pan - wonderful!)

Gently add the coated chicken pieces to the hot oil and fry - about 8 minutes per side - turning until golden brown on all sides. Remove to a brown paper bag covered cookie sheet to drain the oil and keep crisp**

Serve with sweetened corn bread, mashed potatoes, steamed green beans and love. Remember to share with someone.

A Cook's Notes: *Cooking the chicken at 265 degrees will insure that it is crisp on the outside and perfectly done on the inside. Any higher and the chicken will crisp too early leaving it raw on the inside.

** Paper towels tend to get soggy with fried foods and will make the underside of you finished product soft and mushy. Use recycled brown paper bags from your grocery store. They absorb the grease and pull it away from the food, leaving it crispy and brown - the way you intended it to be.

Cancer Sucks and Shanewiches

"Cancer Sucks, But My Son Rocks" - those are words written by my brother-in-law (Shane's Dad) on his blog site, www.teamskelcy.wordpress.com

Forgive me if I use this blog over the coming weeks and months to talk about our nephew.

When cancer strikes a loved one, the whole family gets cancer together. As a family we have weathered this storm before. With my father and the best husband in the world's father (prostate cancer). TBHITW's mom, breast cancer. My mom, colon cancer. All are survivors and we give thanks everyday for that.

But when cancer strikes a 10 year old boy - all reason flies out the window. All perspective can get lost in the battle.

Shane's journey into the world of cancer started with an innocent fall on a school playground just a few weeks ago. A bruise to his left side, above his hip was the beginning. When the "bruise" got worse, a second visit to the pediatrician was warranted. It wasn't a bruise. In a few short days of MRI's and tests, Shane was undergoing surgery to remove a tennis ball size tumor from his left side. TBHITW went to Michigan, the family rallied around Mark and Dee, Shane's parents, his sisters (the twins) just Irish Twins away in age, Kaitlin and Allyson and of course, Shane.

The surgeon felt 99.9% sure he got it all. Praise be! The tumor was not attached to the bone and had not spread. It was a "contained" tumor. Shane went home from the hospital, TBHITW came home from Michigan and we rejoiced that an angel pushed Shane down on the playground - otherwise the tumor would not have been found for months.

Then the pathology reports started coming in....

Confusing, infuriating, terrifying. The cancer is rare. Pathologists were consulted at the University of Michigan, the University of Boston and Emory University in Atlanta. A team of 20 tumor specialists was assembled. What was this? What path of treatment was needed? The verdict that came back has tried the faith and hope of everyone in this family. A rare cancer - rarely seen in adults and only seen 5 times in children. They are even loathe to name it. Myxiod Sarcoma? The doctors say it doesn't need a name. The diagnosis is enough.

The tumor team and all the pathologists have decided that the course of treatment will commence with chemotherapy beginning June 1. A full summer of it.

To be followed by radiation.

To be followed by surgery to remove even the skin that was covering the tumor. 

To be followed by a skin graft. 

We feel helpless in the face of this enormous disease that has captured our family. 

Some of us will pray. Some of us will cry. Some of us will yell. Some of us will shake our fists at the cancer gods and some at their very own God. 

Some, like Mark and Dee, will run in the NYC Marathon this fall - raising money for cancer research and honoring their son's struggle. 

Me, I'll cry a little (I call them my private cries - maybe in the shower, maybe when I'm all by myself in the kitchen). I'll google Myxoid Sarcoma - maybe. But mostly I'll cook. I'll rename old recipes for Shane and invent some new ones. I'll find the foods that soothe a chemotherapy racked body. I'll visit in July and take over someone's kitchen like an invading army. That is my therapy. That is where I find solace. In front of a pot. Creating, tasting, inventing, feeding. Feeding the family and feeding my soul. And somewhere in all that stirring and mixing and basting and sauteing is a prayer for a cure. 

ShaneWiches - formerly known as Whoopie Pies. (I can rename it because I changed the recipe somewhat in order to use whole wheat pastry flour and brown sugar instead of the traditional all white flour and sugar - feel free to change it back! I also feel free to rename it because if ten year olds can get cancer, they can have a cookie/cake named after them)

Cookies (Cakes):

1 c whole wheat pastry flour
1 c all purpose flour
2/3 c unsweetened cocoa
1 1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 c unsalted butter, softened
1 c packed light brown sugar
1 large egg
1 tsp vanilla
1 c buttermilk (if you don't have buttermilk, add 1 tablespoon lemon juice or white vinegar to one cup milk, let stand for 5 minutes)
Crystal sugar (optional)

Filling:
6 tbsp unsalted butter, softened
2 c confectioners sugar
1 jar (7 1/2 oz) marshmallow cream
2 tsp vanilla

1.  Heat oven to 350
Line 2 baking sheets with parchment.  Combine flour, cocoa and baking soda.
In another bowl, beat butter and sugar until fluffy, about 3 min.  Add egg
and vanilla and beat to combine.  Alternately add flour mixture and
buttermilk beginning and ending with flour.  Mix until smooth.

2.  Drop 1-inch mounds of batter 2 inches apart onto baking sheets.
Sprinkle half of the mounds with crystal sugar (optional).  Bake until tops are puffed
and cookies spring back when touched, 15 min.
Transfer to rack and cool completely.

3.  To make filling:  Beat together butter, confect. sugar, marshmallow
cream, and vanilla until smooth, about 3 min.  Spread a rounded tablespoon of
filling on flat side of half of the cookies.  Top with other.

Make these for all the people you love in this world - just because you CAN.