"You've got a friend in me"

Ever since I can remember, I've been lucky to have a certain type of companion by my side. Always playful, always loyal, always loving. Never is there judgement and they are always full of happiness from your mere presence. I am, of course, talking about "Man's best friend": the dog.

At the same time I was born, in Brazil, our neighbor's dog had a litter and they were giving away new puppies. That was the first time Bobby came into our lives. Bobby was a black and white mutt. I never knew what kind of breed he was, but it didn't matter, because he was my friend, my loyal companion. It killed me, that, when I had to leave Brazil and move to USA, we couldn't bring Bobby. Every visit, since then, that we took to Brazil, I looked forward to seeing Bobby, and it seemed like he genuinely looked forward to seeing me. He would wag his tail at the gate, and every morning all I would have to do is call his name and 5 seconds later he would be drumming down the drive way to see me. He was stubborn and didn't like to share, but he loved to explore with me and he loved his human. My last visit to Brazil in 2007, he wasn't there. I hadn't visited in a while, but I just never imagined he wouldn't be there to greet me. Bobby had gotten old and it was time to move on. We had a new pack of dogs there, but I felt empty. I wished I could have said good-bye. Bobby, I love you and miss you each and every day.

Little me, sisters, and Bobby in Brazil. We love you Bobby

In the years I didn't visit Brazil, my parents decided that we could get a puppy in Indiana. It was my mom's idea and she really wanted a miniature dachshund. She searched and came across a lady who bred these specific dogs. One afternoon, my dad, sister and I drove to get the puppy. It was love at first sight. We called her Minnie (yes, just like Minnie Mouse) and we went straight to my mom for her to get a glimpse of our new family member. Minnie tried to escape and run to the road; scared us half to death, but it was all alright. Now, she is the pack leader of the family and we love her for it.

Minnie the Diva :) So tiny but so fearless

About the time my middle sister left for college, my parents and I saw an ad for a free puppy. The article stated a beagle/boxer mix and my parents thought, why not? Minnie was almost 3 years old but we needed a dog with the size of a guard dog. We went to the family and there we met Sophie. Sophie ended up being the size of a boxer, but she has the innocence and playfulness of a beagle. She came into my life during Junior year of high school, and she was my buddy. I watched her grow, and she watched me struggle through the end of schooling. She always knew when to lay by my side or when to demand attention so I could snap out of my moods. I love Sophie. (wish she was more transportable and not so afraid of cars haha)

Gentle and sweet Sophie. She lives to please

 During my senior year of high school, my oldest sister and her husband lived in Indianapolis. One Christmas, her husband surprised her with a little puppy as a gift. Kira, named after the Star Trek character (he's a huge fan), is a Shi-poo, Shitzu and Poodle mix. She was so tiny and such a fur ball when I met her. She can be ditzy, but she is very playful and knows how to be around newborns. (She is a veteran now since my sister has had three kids).

Kira, the quiet and mild tempered. Baby watch dog. 

While I was in Costa Rica on a study abroad trip, I skyped my family to say hello. While video chatting, my mom and sister said, "SURPRISE! we got a new puppy". Daisie was a pet of my mom's co-worker who wasn't able to take good care of the dog. My mom accepted Daisie and she has been with us since. She's a beagle and has all the personalities of one. My parents had a harder time training her as she came to us as an outside dog and already 1 year old, but if there was anyone who could train her, it was them. About the end of this past summer, my parents let me bring Daisie to West Virginia as a test of my doggy owner-ness. Seeming as my apartment is still whole and she looks as lively as ever, its safe to say she is one happy doggy here.

Loyal Daisie. Always lovable, always my baby

My middle sister and her husband had recently purchased a new home in Columbus. They've always had talk about wanting a pet, a Corgi, to be specific. (Super Asian of them haha) One day, I was working at the Diner and I received a text that said, check out my Facebook Status! So I did, and lo and behold, there was a corgi named Luna on there. She was a small furball who constantly chewed and cried, but she is adorable. Every time I come home, she seems to get a little bit longer, just like Minnie. If Minnie is a wiener, Luna is a kielbasa haha.

Luna will grow up to be quite photogenic :)

Last but not least, our partner at the Diner, Denise, recently got a puppy herself. She already has one, Zeke the black Scottish Terrier, and they wanted him to have a sister. They wanted a different breed of dog, and her husband was particular to the bulldog breed. They found a French bulldog breeder in Ohio and, one afternoon, came home with Abigail, or Abby. If anyone has ever watched a compilation of bulldog videos, they know the hilariousness that is their howling or barking; it just doesn't exist. It's a whining noise that they make and now we think she sounds like a pig. I have yet to call this dog Abby. Pig just sounds more fitting. We all have a good laugh about it, and it's fun to empathize with Denise as she trains this new puppy.

Abby the Diner Pig, hear her Squeal!

Zeke, the mighty warriors. Daisie's best friend

I love dogs. There is no question about it. I'm blessed to have parents who like them as well, and for a family and me who aren't allergic to them. They are wonderful companions. At the beginning, training them is never easy. I have yet to experience the full puppy-dome on my own, but Hines and I have been watching lots of "Dog Whisperer" to get us ready. Thank you for letting me share my love for them with you all.

Now I can't let you go without a recipe of some sort. As an ode to puppies everywhere, I have a dog treat recipe that I have made a couple times for my family. They love it, and you know exactly what goes into the treats. They are simple and if you have bone cookie cutters, even BETTER! If you have a favorite treat you make, please share below. Love to try new things with my puppies.

Fun, Healthy Dog Treats

Ingredients:

1/2 cup mashed banana
1 egg
1/3 cup peanut butter 
1 cup whole wheat flour
1/2- 1 cup oats (depending on how wet the dough is)

MOP

-Preheat the oven to 350F.

-In a stand mixer bowl, combine all wet ingredients (banana, egg, pb). Add the flour and oats. The dough should feel like an oatmeal raisin cookie or chocolate chip cookie. If it's too wet, add more oats.

-Now the fun part, get your favorite cookie cutter. The size of the cookie depends on what you want to feed your puppies every time. I had a 2" dog bone cookie cutter I used. Cut as many as you can get out of the dough. Place on a sheet pan with parchment paper.

- Bake for 15min. Check to make sure it's dry and cooked all the way through. Remove from the oven and let cool for 10 minutes, or until your puppies give you THE LOOK! I can't deny a dog his/her treat!!

-Now let them EAT!

Great people come and go, but their spirits remain

A week ago yesterday, an unfortunate event, one of true sadness, occurred in the lives of Kikko and Hines. Truly more so for Hines, his mentor, great friend, his hero passed away in a terrible accident and it has shook the world of culinary and Facebook. I will, however, let Hines pay him homage of his own, in his own time. For now, I wanted to share a story of my own hero, or heroin, for that matter.

My mom has been gone for about a month or two already. We all knew grandma, or "Batian" was soon leaving us as she had been suffering from esophageal cancer for a while. I had been babysitting in the hot summers day, days before band camp started, and I was on my way home. As I looked at my driveway, I saw my dad's car, an unusual event as he was to be at work. When I get inside the house,  he looked at me and said, " I am going to Brazil. Your grandmother just passed away". He had been on his computer looking for the next flight to my home country, in hopes to be with my mother as fast as he could. My sister and I, having band camp, couldn't afford to leave, so we were staying at a friend's house until my parents returned. I remember feeling very vulnerable and in disbelief. I talked to my mom for a few minutes before she broke down and had to hang up. I was alone. I didn't enjoy the feeling, but I knew I had to be good, to be a big girl. I never truly cried once. 

Batian was the only one who seemed to understand me. Love me and care for me while others tended to show otherwise. She always played with me when  my sisters ignored me, and she always supported my random crafts even though they were useless. I always loved her from the bottom of my heart, even though I only saw her once a year or so. She was so little and fragile, and yet, you would never see her sitting around doing nothing. She was an inspiration to me. No matter what life hands you, you keep on working. 

The first time I was able to visit her grave was a year and a half after she passed away. I wasn't sure how I would feel. We made it a trip with the whole family to pay our respects.  That was the first time I cried. I had visited that cemetery so many times for my grandfather, but nothing so emotional as that moment had ever occurred to me. I was a wreck. No one, not even me, could understand why I was so upset. Until now. 

I never got the closure I wanted with her when she passed away. I was hundreds of miles away, unable to do anything for the woman who had inspired me to be strong. She was my hero. Seeing the grave with her name on it made it concrete that she was truly gone. 

Memories are a funny thing. They can bring you so many emotions of different forms. They can cause you to suffer, laugh, become mad, smile, or even bring you to a deep thought. As I sat around this week, feeling for Hines, I also remembered my loving Batian. She was one of my inspirations to cook, and if I am right, same for my mother. It's a wonderful feeling, watching a woman in your life cook for the entire family, making so many wonderful goodness and do it out of the joy of her heart. She never had culinary training. She never went to school for an extensive number of years as my sisters and I had, and yet she was one of the smartest person I had ever met. I wish, sometimes, she was still alive to be able to see me cook, be able to taste what I can make now. I just hope that she is proud of me, that's all. 

Everyone has a hero, the one who convinced them to do their best every single day. Mine was my grandmother and I miss her. Although the times are passing, I like to share a few words of wisdom with all. 

-Remember to show your love and enthusiasm every day. You never know who you are inspiring.

-Be yourself. Don't let others change your attitude because that's the environment you are in. 

-Do what you love. Don't settle for something you aren't ready or excited to do. Life is too short. 

-and last but not least, "WORK HARD AND PLAY HARDER."- Uncle Joey

Kikko

Feeling Ill

     Summer  is officially here and I find myself feeling a little under the weather, but sickness I'm faced with is not easily cured by a pill or syrup. To cure my sickness, it's at least a twelve hour long process that can cost hundreds of dollars, depending on how the procedure goes.  Though the ailment's dosage have gradually declined in the past four years, I am afraid that that's not exactly good news.  All this makes me crave the cure more and more, the little pick me up that had never failed.; Mom's spaghetti!

     Now first things first, her spaghetti dinners had everything that one would look for in a great meal.  A complex red sauce with some of my favorite tomatoes, filled with aromatic herbs and spices and accompanied by crispy garlic bread for sopping up every last drop of food on your plate.  Only a few have had the pleasure to be familiar with this childhood delight like I have. Her sauce is comprised of ground beef, dried basil, oregano, cayenne pepper, and whatever else sounds good, and is bound together mostly with some of my favorite ketchup (bet you'll never guess what kind).  The bread was made from plain white bread covered in butter and garlic salt and baked till golden brown.  Last but not least is the pasta. It has to be angel hair or else it isn't right. Everyone knows that the pasta makes the dish and those slippery long strands of yellow noodle never disappointed.  Even though this simple dish should be easy for a culinary graduate to master, there is just something about it I can't seem to get right. There is a secret that only my mom has mastered with years of continuously cooking it, and I can trust no one else to make it right.

      In truth, there might be one more secret ingredient that I am aware of that makes this dish so special. It's the atmosphere of home that I am sick for; my family and those closest to me.  It's because of them that I have left home, but it's because of them that I am pursuing my dreams.  I am home sick for now but I will see them soon and, with all honesty, the spaghetti tastes the best after a long time away.  

Hines