sciatica, Omie, and Guanciale,

Hi Folks, sorry it's taken so long to post, but I've been a bit busy. Because I work, and usually play, on my feet, I have suffered intermittent attacks of sciatica. If any of you readers out there have ever worked on their feet for any stretch of time (like you former-and/or present food professionals-you know who you are!), you may suffer from it also. It's literally a pain in the ass, or hip, sometimes also in the leg and the foot! It is also a bit of a mystery to health professionals, too much sitting, too much walking, not enough walking, too much/not enough stretching, anything from the above, to sleep deprivation, or even stress can set it off. Sorry to bitch and moan, but it's put a kink in my regular dash-and-do modus operandi. Speaking of the dash-and-do M.O., I now know how my Omie felt when sciatica would strike her. Omie was my German grandmother, on my father's side. She suffered intermittent bouts of it all her life. This Wednesday would have been her 100th birthday, she tried to hang on, but let go of her last breath 3 weeks after her 98th birthday, 2 years ago May 9th. If there ever was a whirlwind force of nature in this plane, it was Omie. Those of you who knew her were witnesses, recipients, and sometimes targets of her lightning-fast style. In the words of my friends Eliza and Kim, she was a true "Attagirl." (More on Attagirls later). She could get more stuff done before breakfast than anyone I've ever known. It was a point of enormous pride to her to "get things done." And woe to anyone who slothed around. Oh, no, not when the sun is shining, and if the day were rainy, there's plenty to do inside! Organizing, cleaning, planning, troubleshooting. Even relaxing on the beach was a perfect time to brainstorm something new and different to prepare and cook another day. People used to laugh at us when we did that. We could be in the middle of eating lunch and be talking about what we should make tomorrow, or tonight, or for the next occasion when we got together with a group of people, sometimes my mom, sometimes my father, always with some extended family members (my cousins Ingrid and Karen, and their parents, Enno and Rae. Omie taught me how to recognize what was in season, and how to purchase foods, especially fresh veg and fruit. She was very practical about it, though, she did it because the stuff was cheaper and better quality than goods that had to be imported from far away. Nobody ever heard of a "carbon footprint" when I was growing up around Omie. I still attempt to buy and cook locally grown stuff, in season. It's sort of like living my life in real time (like traveling in real time). And I still do it because the stuff is better and cheaper than goods that are out of season, or that you can't grow in the Northeast. Of course, there are always exceptions to every rule, more later on those. So Happy 100th Birthday, Omie, I hope you are snuggled with the animals in the barn, at this time of year, there would be baby animals, which was one of your favorite things in the world, caring for young creatures. I blow a kiss to your picture, and hold you in my heart, as always. About the guanciale, I am making a traditional pasta all'amatriciana, inspired by the2-lb. package of Niman Ranch guanciale's appearance at my food coop yesterday. I am still searching for a recipe for guanciale confit, as opposed to simply slicing and rendering it, or slowly simmering it, for the sauce. I just feel that it would be so much more mouth-blowingly good if I confit it before composing the rest of the ingredients. And if any of you read the NYTimes article written by Florence Fabricant (Dining In, Wednesday, January 16th) on the famous pasta from Amatrice, or Rome, depending on which side of the debate you're on. The dish's provenance is a highly controversial topic in Italy. I couldn't care less where it originated, why waste time arguing about these things when we could be cooking and eating wonderful things together? Are you rolling your eyes at me now?? Do I seem too corny? Peace-loving? Yeah, well, too bad! I am one of those folks who really does think we could all get along if only we could put these sorts of petty arguments aside, have a nice plate of pasta, a glass of wine, and shut the hell up. I go prepare my guanciale now. I'll let you all know how it comes out, maybe. Happy Sunday. Nadsquad