Ria's Bluebird...Best Pancakes in Atlanta!!!

Recently, I discovered the best pancakes in Atlanta at Ria's Bluebird (riasbluebird.com). By discover, I mean that a friend told me about it and I trusted her food judgement. I went two consecutive Saturdays just to check that these were the best pancakes I've had since arriving in the ATL way back in 1987. Pancakes are always on the menu, however they also have a specialty pancake each week...like the blueberry pancakes that I had. What made these pancakes the best was the fact that they were very light and served hot. The pancakes had just the right amount of juicy blueberries throughout. The second time I went I had the pecan pancakes (in photo) and these were nicely done as well. Pancakes come with warm maple syrup. Most pancakes served at restaurants are very heavy and sometimes can be a little uncooked. It also seems that restaurants have a hard time serving hot pancakes although it is generally understood that it doesn't take long for pancakes to get cold.

Ria's Bluebird is located in the Grant Park section of Atlanta. If you approach the restaurant from either end of Memorial Drive you may question whether or not a really good restaurant exists along this particular stretch of Memorial Drive. It is an area in need of development. However, I always find that the most interesting restaurants are found in unlikely places. It is located across the street from the Historic Oakland Cemetery. This cemetery is so historic that it dates back to 1850, has its own website and walking tours. To the rear of the restaurant are the beautiful, historic homes characteristic of Grant Park.

Ria's opens each day at 8 am. Both times, I visited on a Saturday around 9:30 am. There was a line waiting outside and the wait was about 15 minutes. There are two areas for seating. The front of the restaurant is the best. The back of the restaurant was a little drafty but tolerable. Be prepared to do some parallel parking along the side of the restaurant. As with most intown restaurants, there is limited restaurant parking. The website isn't always current but has some interesting videos on it.

Lighten up Paula Dean - Spinach & Bacon Quiche
I am a fan of cooking shows. I watch them the way my seventy-something parents watch the news and judge shows….Judge Joe Brown, Judge Judy, Judge Mathis, Divorce Court and Judge Alex. These are the ones that readily come to mind. They have their shows and I have mine. I don’t watch any particular cooking show or chef, I follow recipes.

Sometimes I talk at the chef and give my approval or skepticism about their approach. I’m always challenged to cook with ingredients I’ve not considered before such as fennel or broccoli rabe. Through ingredients and food, I also learn about people and culture.

I love to experiment with recipes. I often substitute ingredients for taste or to reduce calories and fat. One recipe that I’ve cooked a few times is Paula Deen’s Spinach and Bacon Quiche. I’ve never followed her original recipe. I have a hard time believing that one quiche needs a pound of bacon and a cup of heavy cream. There is no doubt in my mind that it is…as they say…truly deee---Lish! However, with a few simple changes, I know that I can come up with something comparable that is very tasty and satisfying. At the end of the day, I want my arteries and thighs to be happy.

Spinach and Bacon Quiche

Ingredients6 large eggs, beaten
1 cup of milk (1-2%)
1/2 tsp pepper
1 10 oz package of frozen spinach (thawed, squeeze out excess water)
6 slices of bacon, cooked and crumbled
1 cup of shredded Swiss cheese
1 pie crust (deep dish from the frozen section)

Directions
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Combine the eggs, milk, and pepper using a whisk or blender. Layer the spinach, bacon and cheese in the bottom of the pie crust. Pour the egg mixture on top. Bake at least 40 minutes. The egg should be set.

Cooking tips: Bacon can be cooked on the stove, in the microwave or in the oven. I prefer the oven because the grease is more contained and the bacon can be easily checked without disturbing. The original recipe calls for salt but the bacon and cheese provide enough sodium for this recipe.

For Paula Deen’s original recipe, visit http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/paula-deen/spinach-and-bacon-quiche-recipe/index.html

Granola
3 cups rolled oats
1 cup pumpkin seeds
½ c slivered almonds
½ c pecan pieces
½ c shredded coconut
½ tsp cinnamon
½ tsp cardamom
¼ c brown sugar
¼ c maple syrup
¼ c canola oil

Directions
Preheat oven to 300 degrees F. In a large bowl, combine the oats, nuts, coconut, and brown sugar. In a separate bowl, combine maple syrup and oil. Combine both mixtures and pour onto a large sheet pan. Cook for 1 hour, stirring every 15 minutes to achieve an even color. Remove from oven and transfer into a large bowl. At this time, you may want to add additional items such as raisins or other dried fruit. Mix until evenly distributed. After cooled, granola may be stored for about 1 month in an airtight container. I’ve also placed it in an airtight freezer bag and placed in the freezer.

This recipe is a combination of two recipes (Alton Brown of the Food Network and Melissa Park from the New York Times).


Life's Little Interruptions
I have no written plans for the year, no resolutions or even a dream board as suggested by Oprah. I’ve done all of these things in the past and I may do them again. At the same time, I’ve also learned that life is largely circumstantial. In other words, things are going to happen and I’ll just have to adjust…in spite of my plans, resolutions and dreams. One moment I’m on a particular course and moving in a particular direction and suddenly I’m not. It could be a job loss, an illness, a break up or loss of a loved one. It doesn’t even have to be that devastating or dramatic. It could simply be that something just didn’t work out. Something happened. As poet Robert Burns said, the best laid schemes of mice and men often go awry. And he wrote that way back in 1785.

Why must our plans be interrupted? Sometimes a pause in life is what we need in order to consider our direction and lifestyle. It is easy to become unbalanced and somewhat crazy in today’s world where there is constant stimulation and pressure. There is a lot of pressure to seem more than ordinary. A lot of times we are doing stuff just to be doing it. We may need something to happen to stop the madness and to help us to live more intentionally with purpose.

An unexpected job loss will interrupt any immediate and future plans. For most of last year, 10-months to be exact, I was laid-off. Although I didn’t think it was possible, I lived on half of my previous salary. Life became very simple for me. I didn’t go anyplace beyond metropolitan Atlanta. I spent very little on entertainment and eating out. Friends were met at parks and coffee shops. In spite of the obvious financial challenges, I discovered that I could live a relatively happy life on much less. Of course, I learned the importance of being financially prepared for the unexpected. And I was not, in spite of Suze’s (Orman) warnings. She was right, a job-loss could last for about a year and that is the amount you should have saved. Of course, knowing and doing are two different things.

A job loss may also be an opportunity to learn new skills and change career paths. Even if we hate our job, we procrastinate or refuse to find a new one. For the last few years, I worked in an environment that made little use of my skills and where people thrived on negativity. My time there had run its course. It was no longer the place where I needed to be. I was trying to go along to get along. I did my best to suppress what I knew to be true and what I needed to do. I was conflicted. There’s nothing out there anyway with this economy. Shouldn’t I be happy just to be employed…with benefits? Who really likes their job? Then one day, the decision was made for me. Sometimes, that is exactly what we need. We need something to happen to make the decision that we won’t make for ourselves. Now I had to move forward and find another job. Of course I was angry about being laid off, but I also felt a deep sense of relief. The nightmare I had been living was over. Now I was free to become my best self…or at least a better self. I am now working in an environment where my skills are being utilized, that is more supportive and more aligned with my life goals.

Our plans will be interrupted. It is normal to initially feel shock, anger and sadness. But…then what? We can be consumed by it and become largely unproductive. Or, we can learn from it and move forward. It is our choice to see it as an opportunity and to trust that a greater purpose is being fulfilled.

Daddy's Ambrosia

Daddy’s Ambrosia

6 oranges
8 ounce can of crushed pineapple
1 banana, diced
1 apple, diced
¼ cup of shredded coconut
Sweeten to taste

Yummy ambrosia. I’ve seen a variety of recipes of ambrosia but this one represents my family’s tradition. Every Christmas my father makes ambrosia. It is the only time of the year that he makes it. We would often eat it following Christmas dinner with a piece of home-made pound cake. Ambrosia is light, healthy and could be served year round. It is a great complement to any meal. In the morning, have it with a toasted bagel or scone. It could be a light snack or dessert.

Juice the oranges. In this case, I cut the six oranges in half and used a manual juicer. For this recipe, keep the juice along with the pulp. Pour into a larger bowl. Add the remaining ingredients and stir. This recipe can be sweetened with either sugar or artificial sweetener. I added 4 small packets of Sweet N Low. You may choose not to sweeten it at all.

A Tribute to My Father
I did not know how much you loved me until recently. When I was much younger I expected your love to come in the form of hugs, kisses and tenderness. This was not your way, nor was it your father’s way. I thought if it wasn’t the Cleaver’s or Cosby’s love, then there was no love. And sometimes mothers, because of the challenges that they face with the fathers add more complexities, impediments and smoke screens. And while little girls need the affection of their fathers, they also need a whole lot more. For so long I was asleep but now I am awake. Now it is quite clear to me. Love is provided in many different ways.

You loved me when you came home every night of my life. I remember lying in my bed and hearing the quick heavy steps in the kitchen and hallway. There was never a concern of where you were, what you were doing and who you were with because you were working. You had your government job by day and your tax business by night. I did not ever worry about the basics. There were also piano lessons, sports and camp – all requiring an investment of time and money. Even with that we were given a weekly allowance after completing our chores. You provided a stable home thus a firm foundation.

I remember when you taught me to ride a bike. You propelled me forward and yelled Pedal, pedal, pedal! I swerved and wobbled along the street trying to understand the relationship between pedaling and steering my new bike. Later, you taught me to drive a car and yelled Stay in your lane! Learning to ride a bike was much more fun.

You loved me when you required that I be educated. How many times did you tell me and my brothers about the importance of education? Girl…guess what? I walked 5 miles to school. You told me that grandpa wanted both of his girls to be educated, just in case they ended up marrying somebody sorry. That was a pretty strong conviction to have for girls born in the 30’s and 40’s.

You loved me by sharing stories about our history. You were born in 1934 in North Augusta, South Carolina. It was not the best time but it was your time. When a teen, you had to deny that you were in school so that you could get summer jobs. They wouldn’t hire you if they thought you were smart and trying to get an education. No suh…I don’t go to no school. And guess what girl? At the end of the summer we quit those jobs. Oh yeah…oh yeah! Then, you laugh hysterically. Later, you took your education, went to the bus station and got a one-way ticket to New York. The decision of how far north to go was based on what you had in your pocket that day. You did not allow your history to be a problem for me.

You also talked about Big Ma’s (your grandmother) house and how everybody would gather there together on Sundays. Everybody may have gone to different churches that morning but on Sunday afternoon you met at Big Ma’s house. During the week, your parents and 7 siblings ate off the land and didn’t eat meat every day. Dinner might have been some field peas and tomatoes. Nawww girl….we didn’t eat meat every day. No, no…nawwwwww. You told me about pound cakes that could stand up because that’s how big and dense they were. Even today when you mention these pound cakes you take off laughing. From time to time you ask me if I remember going down to the country. Coming from Maryland, visiting North Augusta was the country. But while there, I remember going down long dirt roads that never seemed to end, a car without air conditioning, and hot vinyl seats that my brown legs stuck to in the dead of summer. So yes, I remember. You always ask me if I remember something…probably so I won’t forget. Isn’t this also love?

And throughout my life you have loved me through jobs, relocations and apartments. You ask me about bosses, friends and places I have long forgotten. I remember when I called to tell you that I bought my first home. I never heard such excitement from you. Girl, that was the best thing you could have done for yourself! Over the years, you have loved me in so many different ways. It doesn’t really matter if I was paying attention or not. I was still being loved.

Bacon Pleasers
1 package of crescent rolls
4 slices of swiss cheese
3 eggs
¾ cup milk
1 tsp. minced onion
4 slices of crispy bacon, crushed
1 tsp parsley

Preheat oven to 425. Grease and flour a 13X9 baking pan. Spread rolls on bottom of pan and add cheese. Combine (blend) egg, milk and onion. Pour over cheese. Sprinkle with bacon and parsley. Bake for 15-18 minutes.


I often hear people diagnose themselves as being people pleasers. In its purest sense it means to give satisfaction to others or to be agreeable. This is wonderful when coming from a place of sincerity and truth. However, most often when this is said, it is implied that someone is doing something that they really didn’t want to do.

On the other end of the spectrum are those that constantly seek pleasure. In today’s culture, there is so much external stimulation driving us from one thing to the next. Throughout the day, no matter the task at hand, we are interrupted with thoughts of other things we could be doing or prefer to be doing. It may be the norm, however, it isn’t natural or how we were created to be. One can look to the seasons of the year and see that there is a time to flourish, to slow down and even to be dormant.

Instead of being pleasers or seeking pleasure, first, we must know pleasure. We need to know pleasure for ourselves and not in relationship to anyone else’s experiences or beliefs. Pleasure does not have to be of a particular magnitude to be enjoyed. It doesn’t have to be a vacation, a job promotion or a new car. It could be as simple as a walk in the park, spending time with friends, learning something new or merely an observation. After knowing pleasure, we then have to hold on to it. Think of how often we choose to hold onto our pain and offenses. What would happen if we were to ponder our joyful experiences over and over again?

Although there are many, I can think of a few pleasure-filled moments that I’m not too embarrassed to share.

There is the random, serendipitous pleasure. This type of pleasure happens when we aren’t trying to produce it. Several years ago, a childhood friend and I did some last minute holiday shopping. By last minute, I mean it is Christmas Eve and we are leaving the mall and the doors are being locked behind us. We weren’t ready to call it a night. It isn’t often that I am home and see my old friend. After leaving the Annapolis mall, we decided to drive down to the harbor. We parked several blocks away from our destination and made our descent towards the dock – passing by many quaint shops and restaurants. There were a few people wandering around. It was cold but not unbearable. We went into a coffee shop that looked out onto the harbor. As we sat in the coffee shop it began to snow. It fell onto historic Annapolis with its 18th century buildings and cobblestone streets. It fell onto the docked white boats, some decorated with holiday lights, others too striking for decoration. It fell onto the leaning Christmas tree just outside of the Market House. It fell as we sat in the window, drinking something warm and comforting, and saying nothing at all. It was a moment of pure joy and contentment.

There is the pleasure that comes from laughter. Last Fall, I went with a walking buddy to Stone Mountain Park. It was overcast, cloudy and chilly. You know, one of those days in which you stay inside. We had rescheduled many times and were determined to meet on this particular day. As soon as we began our 5 mile walk around the mountain, it began to lightly mist. Surprisingly, it continued to either mist or lightly rain the entire walk. A couple of hours later we finished - soggy, tired, cranky and cold. Did I mention that I brought my dog along? Yet, what I remember most about that day was the laughter. We laughed about our glasses fogging up, our noses running and putting a wet, muddy dog into the back of my car with nothing to dry her with. We laughed because we didn’t believe it would rain the entire time, but somehow it did. Most of all, we laughed at our stupid determination to walk that morning.

There is also pleasure that comes from the absence of discomfort. In our lifetime we will not be able to escape grief, heartache, illness or disappointment. Quite recently, I distinctly remember experiencing this type of pleasure. Having undergone surgery, I was lying in my bed and resting. I wasn’t thinking about anything in particular. My room was full of light and the house was very quiet. The only sound I was aware of was that of the air conditioning coming through the overhead vent. And for a few moments I felt no pain, discomfort, fear or any of the other vulnerabilities that one experiences after undergoing major surgery. I was at peace. I knew that everything was going to be alright. For me, that was pleasure.

What’s your pleasure? Know it and hold on to it.


This recipe comes by way of the Faculty Favorites recipe book. This recipe book was published in 1990 by Magothy River Middle School located in Arnold, Maryland where my mother spent the majority of her teaching career.

Carrot Tea Bread
3 eggs
1 ½ cups sugar
¾ c vegetable oil
1 ½ c finely shredded carrots
2 ¾ c flour
1 ¾ tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1 ½ tsp cinnamon
¼ tsp salt

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Line a 9X5 inch loaf pan with greased wax paper. Instead of lining a loaf pan with greased wax paper, you could also use a nonstick bread pan and spray it with baking spray.

With a mixer, blend eggs, sugar and oil in a bowl. Sift flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt and cinnamon together. Add to egg mixture and mix. Stir in carrots. You can also add walnuts or raisins. Turn into baking pan and bake for 1 hour and 20 minutes. Take bread out of the pan before it has completely cooled. I find that it comes out easier that way. I believe that this recipe is originally from an old Betty Crocker Cookbook.

Note: Carrot Tea Bread is not the same as Carrot Cake. Expect to find this bread to be more dense than your typical cake. It also contains less fat and sugar than cake. You will discover that the top of this bread to be surprisingly crunchy. This simple, tasty recipe may be enjoyed for breakfast, dessert or a snack.

On one particular morning, I had been thinking about trying out a new recipe such as almond scones or chocolate chip pancakes. However, I was feeling nostalgic. I thought of the breakfast breads that my mother used to make such as banana bread, carrot tea bread and zucchini bread. I scrapped the idea of something new and went with something familiar. It only took a few minutes to decide on carrot tea bread; as the bananas weren’t ripe enough and I had another plan for the zucchinis.

The next task was to locate a recipe that I liked. I knew I had the ingredients but couldn’t remember the exact amounts – a requirement for good baking. I began searching the internet which yielded many recipes for carrot cake. I almost fell into the internet abyss where I would learn about volcanic ash, check out Zappos, download that latest Rihanna song and then consider possible Mother’s Day gifts. But, suddenly and thankfully, I remembered my recipe box.

My recipe box was just that, a box where I stuffed a whole bunch of recipes. If you were to open it you would discover that recipes are on everything: yellow legal paper, a ripped magazine page or even a coupon. A few are actually written onto index cards but most are not. Some are crisp and new while others are worn and old. There is a thank you note for a fundraising brunch that I attended while living in New York. The card is in the original envelope, date stamped 20 Sep 1998 from Dorothy, who lived in Long Island, to me in Queens. Inside is her recipe for Fruit Cobbler. A few months ago, while waiting for steamed shrimp, I picked up a recipe for tilapia chowder from the seafood section of my local grocery store. I fixed the chowder a few days later and it exceeded my expectations. Folded several times over is a Cranberry Apple Crisp recipe. My mother copied it from the Baltimore Sun and mailed it to me a couple of years ago. This is a recipe that I plan to make for an occasion. Based on her rave reviews, I assume that it would be dangerous to have it in the house for me to eat alone. Finally, I find the Carrot Tea Bread recipe that I copied onto a 3X5 index card a long, long, long time ago. It came from the Betty Crocker cookbook that my mother and I often went to throughout my childhood. The last time I saw it, it was being held together by rubber bands. It was probably one of the first recipe books that she owned after getting married in 1962. I’m hoping that she hasn’t thrown it away. At this moment, I make a quick phone call to inquire about the cookbook and Mom says, “Yeah, I still have that raggedy cookbook. I still use it. I’ll never throw that out.” I ask her to bring it with her when she visits next month. She agrees and we discuss ways to try to put it back together again during her visit.

Although I could have an organized recipe box, I choose not to. I like going through it and pausing at different moments in my journey, memories evoked by the recipe or the paper on which it is written. They are in no particular order, just thrown into a box.

nos•tal•gia [no-stal-juh, -jee-uh, nuh-]
a wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one's life, to one's home or homeland, or to one's family and friends; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time (dictionary.com)

Egg Scramble (Spinach & Smoked Salmon)
1 cup of spinach
1/4 cup smoked salmon
1/8 cup of mozzarella cheese
1 tsp of dried onion
2 eggs
Splash of milk
2 tablespoons of olive oil
1 tablespoon of butter/margarine

Add the olive oil to a skillet (nonstick) and bring to medium –high heat. Add the spinach and smoked salmon to the pan and cook until spinach is wilted.

In a bowl, beat eggs with milk. Add dried onion to the egg mixture. Using salt and pepper, season the egg mixture to your liking. In this recipe, I only add course ground pepper because of the saltiness and flavor of the smoked salmon.

Add butter in the pan with the spinach and salmon. Once it has melted, add egg mixture. Sprinkle with cheese. At this point, it looks just like an omelette. Once the edge of the “omelette” begins to form, take your spatula and push the sides of the egg to the center of the pan. Flip over to be sure that the egg scramble is done.

Fried Plantain

On this particular day, I realized that I had a very dark, almost completely black plantain on my counter. Plantains are always a nice side dish – morning, noon or night. Peel the plantain and slice the plantain crosswise so that each piece is about ½ inch thick. In a pan, heat the cooking oil hot enough for frying. I use just enough oil to cover the pan. Add the plantains to the hot oil. Plantains cook very fast so once you get them in you probably need to start flipping them over. Remove the plantains and place on a paper towel to remove excess oil. Plantains may be salted after frying or sprinkled with cinnamon/and or sugar. When plantains are very ripe, I usually don't add any additional seasonings.

I started making scrambles out of my impatience in trying to make the perfect omelette. If you have ever tried to make an omelette before, you know the challenges - having enough egg mixture to cover your pan, the inside not being done to the right consistency, the ratio of egg to ingredients and of course…the flip! I also can’t stand the feeling of uncooked egg in my mouth so on top of everything else, for me, a digestible omelette is a cooked omelette. I might as well push the egg and ingredients around in the pan until they are done.

I don’t remember the exact date I gave up on the perfect omelette, but I do remember the feeling of knowing that I was more interested in the ingredients and how they came together, and not just the overall appearance. Instead of the plain-ness of uniformity, there were vibrant colors and flavors in unexpected places creating beauty and character - accomplishing the same goal.