I hate to admit it, but I sometimes watch The Girls Next Door. This is the reality television show about Bridget, Holly and Kendra, the three young women (ages 34, 28 and 23, respectively) who live with Hugh Hefner in the Playboy mansion, allegedly filling the roles of live-in girlfriends.

I think it is one of the funniest shows, not in a nonstop guffaw sort of way, but I love watching little background scenes.

Really, what 83 year old man doesn't want to have three beautiful young "blonds" attending to his "needs"? You can't blame the guy for that, and he obviously has the right carrots to dangle. Male readers: Don't even try to tell me you would turn down Hefner's living arrangements, well at least not at age 83.

I also don't have any problem with ladies being interested in financial security. You can call them gold diggers, or whatever, but in reality the majority of women like a man with some earning potential. Many women have a need for financial security and look for a man to help fulfill that need.

But I watched the Valentine's Day episode last night, and I had to laugh at the old geezer selecting gifts for the three live-in ladies of his life - get this - from the official-looking Playboy licensed merchandise catalog. Woo woo! And all of them received identical gifts assembled and (identically) boxed by Hef's personal and ancient, yet spry, secretary.

The biggest concern was how to fit the corporate rabbit-eared cruft into the preselected heart shaped gift boxes. Valentine's Day for Hef's women is apparently the same as receiving a fifth anniversary incentive from your company. So personal, like a Tiffany money clip or engraved lighter or digital clock with company logo. I think he gave Holly, the "main" girlfriend, some additional cheap Disney crap, but really, I would be pissed to get corporate gear and Mickey Mouse shit on Valentine's Day.

In most episodes, Hef walks about pretending like he is interested in the live-in girlfriends. One time, Main Squeeze Holly, who refers to the old codger as "Baby Puffin" bought him some real live peacocks or parrots and he seemed genuinely thrilled. But the interaction with the girls seems completely fake and contrived.

They talk to him and fawn over him and he interjects a fake laugh here and there. And sometimes he refers to some interest of theirs as "cute" and feigns a little interest. It's almost like he is interacting with a trio of gerbils.

The girls go off to Vegas or Alaska and try to make us believe that he cares if they come back the same day (or ever).

Bridget and Holly actually seem intelligent although we can see right through Holly's pretend marriage and baby plotting. Bridget is supposedly still married to her real-life husband.

Kendra seems to have been added for the high potential of girl on girl action, plus it is kind of fun to see Kendra's mom on the show, a woman who looks like she has smoked a few packs a day for most of her life. And call me a prude, but I have never wanted my brother involved in my sex life, and I can imagine Kendra's brother doesn't want her setting him up to "get laid". *shudder*

The whole Kendra wanting to help her little pseudo gangsta brother get laid thing reminded me of a girl I used to know back in California. One time, after a night of clubbing, we went back to hang out at her apartment and she shared with me (a) some awesome homemade bread and butter pickles that her mother had sent to her from South Carolina, and (b) an XXX rated birthday card featuring a porno picture of a guy, sent to her by her brother. That scarred me!

If I had to be one of the three, I would definitely be Bridget. She has some curves, and an IQ of substance and a degree or two.

And, at 34, she looks smokin' hot in a sequined bikini!

This week's food experience de mi cocina: Empanadas!

These beauties were my first attempt at the ubiquitous snack food of Buenos Aires. I decided to stick with the traditional chopped meat version using a recipe from my favorite publication, Saveur Magazine. Yep, that is steak that I finely chopped by hand (not ground beef), mixed with spices, roasted red peppers, chopped potato and hard-cooked egg, onion, red pepper and raisins, all oven baked in a handmade pastry.

I must say, they were delicious and I will be making more.

I want to make some vegetarian versions, perhaps onion and cheese. I also want to learn to make the pretty braided edges. Some of my edges came out better than others, but we ate the pretty ones before I took Empanada glamour shots.

Did I mention that I am going to take photography classes soon? The goal is to get the basic classes out of the way, then pursue food photography. I've got plenty to learn, but my published food photos to date suggest this is something I could do rather well with practice!

It's a serious question that I think about often. I'd like to hear what others think.

Of course, in spite of caring to hear others' thoughts on the matter, don't think for a moment that I am going to keep my own theories to myself!

What I perceive is that more and more, people are very concerned with what others have, to the detriment of their satisfaction with their own lives. They talk about money and houses and cars, and the best home theater, with anyone who will listen. They talk about salaries and what things cost, and everyone knows approximately what everything costs these days anyway. Thank you, Internet. Thank you, Public Records.

The lack of gratitude permeates every aspect of our lives.

Our children are not happy with what they have. They've likely been raised with everything they've wanted, or they at least know and hang out with children who have been raised with everything. Most kids don't say "thank you", aren't expected to say "thank you", and quite frankly, aren't thankful. If they don't have every whim satisfied, or know other kids who have every whim satisfied, they can watch countless hours of MTV where children of celebrities and car dealership owners are ungrateful for birthday parties which cost in excess of a half a million dollars and involve proudly being cruel towards kids they don't like. And their parents seem clueless in teaching them gratitude. Or shame. Or empathy.

Two working parents, some with credit cards, often equals owning (or appearing to own) whatever they want, and why should children not have what they want as well? The line of the haves and the have nots has been so blurred by the credit society. We can all have it all with credit cards, home equity loans, etc. Entitled parents equals entitled children.

I remember the first Christmas with LD. We didn't have a lot of money between the two of us due to some mistakes, but we went out and purchased quite a few gifts for her. At least she would have packages to open and she would have joy. Well, maybe not. After she unceremoniously ripped the paper off each gift, she moved onto the next, barely looking at what was given to her. At the end, she looked around, and asked, "Is that all?" Never mind that no one else was opening gifts.

It took years to teach her gratitude, or at least teach her to fake gratitude, which had to be taught by NOT giving to her, or having her LOSE something, but never just by explaining or talking nicely to her.

Now granted, she was just not quite six, but I clearly remember writing thank you letters for gifts and purchasing gifts for others at that age (and I still have some of those precious cherished gifts from friends and family alike), and here she was, acting as a miserable slighted child instead of one being taught to appreciate and cherish not just possessions, but the fact that someone thought of her, sometimes from far away.

No, I don't expect children to be perfect, but I do expect the adults in their lives to teach them gratitude from early on, as soon as they can grasp the concept, and it just isn't happening anymore, and I believe that this is because people who are not grateful cannot teach gratitude.

And I am also guilty. As we collect more possessions, and surround ourselves with more possessions, we start to think we need those possessions, but in reality we need very little.

When I moved into my own apartment in the Houston area after a failed cohabitational relationship, I was able to be very happy in a one bedroom apartment in a nice area. Eventually I moved into a two bedroom apartment in a nice area. I had decent things, and everything I needed and even some of what I wanted. I had good friends and a decent job and a nice boss.

But that apartment, which was once happiness for me, would take some serious getting used to these days. For as my standard of living has increased, I've learned to turn my nose up at anything less almost every step of the way, and I surround myself with people who live like me and have as much as me or more. Where once I could be happy with my life with a linoleum kitchen floor, I've learned that I like tile better, and I've learned that I like pricey big tile even more and now simple 12" tile doesn't bring out the same gratitude that it once did. And rightfully, I feel shame.

How many things can we look at from a completely different direction, therefore bringing joy to our lives instead of thinking of our circumstances as a burden or punishment?

In my September 1, 2008 issue of Woman's Day, there is an article titled "No More Drowning in Debt!" by Mary Hunt. Interesting is Ms. Hunt's first rule to eliminating debt is the "10-10-80 Rule". She says to give away ten percent, save ten percent, and live the best life you can on eighty percent of your net income. Ms. Hunt also acknowledges that this is not advice that you would hear from a traditional licensed financial advisor. Her point for the first ten percent being given away is that giving to others who are less fortunate releases gratitude for what you have. The point of the ten percent savings is that knowing you have money in the bank quells the fear of being broke. Giving and saving promote contentment.

Personally, I think it is my best interest and the best interest of my family to regain gratitude. Perhaps it is time to rethink the rote meal blessing for those of us who practice it. Perhaps it is time to think of "we" instead of "me". There are a billion ways to do this.

What do you think?

You know you are getting old when your dentist seems too young to drive, let alone drill about in your mouth at will.

I've got this reminder postcard on my desk here, that says I'm due for my cleaning soon. And here I am, flossing like mad to make up for the fact I've been slacking again. If I floss for a good two hours a day until my appointment, and make some sort of bargain with God, I'll be okay and the hygienist won't have to mark my chart for not flossing (and then torture me with the hook tool).

I had a bad experience quite a few years back, at the hands of the "dentist" of my then "boyfriend". Both of those terms are in quotes because both of them were sub par in their roles. Never before had I tried to escape from a dentist, nor had I been tempted to exact revenge on a medical professional or a boyfriend. I still contemplate it from time to time. Think back to the days when the dentist was also the town blacksmith. It was like that only worse!

As a result of this horrid experience, I actually avoided the dentist for years. I'm really lucky that I don't have dental problems now, and I thank my attentive parents for that. My mother would haul us kids to the dentist several towns over, a feat that involved transferring onto several city buses, mind you. I don't know why she did that as I am sure the town we lived in had plenty of qualified dentists. It was my father's job to nag and threaten us kids if we didn't brush and then he would peer around in our mouths to see if we did a good job. Thanks Mom and Dad!

We love our current dentist. He looks to be about seventeen, but he's gentle, and I don't think he's a farrier on the side. He also has a policy that you never have to wait for your appointment time, which is good because I get testy while waiting for the inevitable torture (which never actually occurs anymore).

Recently, on one of the local message boards I read, someone wondered aloud why anyone would wear a ball cap to an upscale restaurant.

My guess is that most people are not aware that it is considered a lack of respect to wear a hat or cap indoors, as they have likely never been taught any sort of manners. They don't know that it is the custom for a man to remove his hat, and for a woman not to wear a man's hat.

Well let me tell you, the ball cap wearers are very upset that people are not accepting of ball caps being worn indoors. People in the far, far, far north Dallas area want to wear their ball cap indoors. They want to wear their cowboy hat indoors. How dare someone point out to them something printed in every etiquette book printed in the last 200 years.

Their retorts were, "what does it matter what someone else is wearing?" It doesn't matter that it is considered customary to remove the hat!

No one replied, "Gee I didn't know that, now that I know it is part of my society's rules of conduct, I'll take my hat off!" Nope, they were just irate.

I dunno... what does it matter? At what point does anything matter?

Where do we draw the line at respect? What does it matter what anyone wears to your wedding? Seriously? Let them wear shorts and a shirt with an expletive across the front. Who cares? Why should anyone dress up for your wedding? Don't matter what people wear.

What is the point of "Please", "Thank you", or "Excuse me"?

Here was a good point: What about when you go to a job interview, do you decline the interviewer's handshake? What is the point of shaking hands? Who cares? Shouldn't affect you if they expect a handshake. Pshaw.... respect and custom, how stupid. Oh, wait... money in your pocket if you get the job.. you have mastered the handshake, haven't you?

Another good point: What, you are getting married? You already have your own place, maybe live together? How stupid to register for your wedding... that's old school. Oh wait, you can get a huge payout by embracing custom and sending out tons of invites, and registering at multiple stores? Well, by all means, register then!  But please omit the thank you cards! People should give a gift with no strings attached, and to expect acknowledgment is to attach strings.

What is the next social option? Why should we use the knife and fork? Let's use our hands.

Manners are about showing respect for others. It is no surprise to me that so many people are uninterested in manners in this "all about me" world.

Recently on A&E, a short series aired. I Can Make You Thin is a program (or programme, in Paul's homeland) where this motivational hypnotist uses mind programming and behavior modification techniques to help people lose weight.

I won't argue with Paul's techniques. After all, they work. Eat less. Eat when hungry, stop when full. Don't eat for emotional reasons. Don't shoot to be model thin. All that makes 100% sense.

The weird and very sad thing is that people think that this common sense is a diet.

Paul McKenna has a message board on his website. People who most likely were birthed by second or third generation serial dieters ask questions such as:

"I'm overweight now. Do I need to go on a diet and lose weight before I start Paul's program?"
The answer is no, you do not have to lose weight before you start eating  when you are hungry and stopping when you are full.

"I'm pregnant. Can I use Paul's diet?"
The answer is yes, you can eat when you are hungry and stop when you are full, while pregnant.

It is so sad that people have gotten so out of whack with what eating is all about. It isn't a game of trading off these calories for a diet soda, or how many artificially sweetened products can I substitute for regular. It isn't about getting the most food for the least money. It is about feeding our bodies.

The saddest thing is that there are more and more people who are using food as a drug. I know I do, especially in the middle of the night when I feel alone, and another day has passed where I didn't do what I wanted to do. I can start it all over tomorrow after all, be it housework, or writing, or a dream, or healthy eating habits. Or exercise.

You get the picture.

Well, here it is almost a month later and I am still cooking Italian food. I am sorry that I promised Ethiopian food, I guess that has been moved to the "back burner" for now. Pun intended?

Ethiopians please note: I haven't given up yet!

Tonight's pictures are of a rustic bread (a la extra pizza dough that I practiced throwing about) and the precious and shiny Marcato Atlas 150 pasta machine. We can't wait to make more spinach pasta, and that is what we plan to do for this week's date night.

The weekend before last, I had an impromptu dinner get together. Given the timing, there were only five of us, but it was a great combination of five! Anne, Mike, Kari, David and moi. With most of us being light eaters, I made a simple lasagne Bolognese with homemade spinach pasta (pre-machine, sore muscles pasta), Caprese salad, A few cheeses to start off with, including gorgonzola and an aged cheddar, and baguette. For dessert, we had creme brulee in my little lion's head ramekins (not the best vehicles for torching a creme brulee, yet adorable and must be used).

For once, all the wines were a hit. In the order served:


The Argentinian Malbec was a wild card, thrown in at the end of the evening since everyone was done eating. I never miss a chance to roll out my favorites! The evening was a success and I hope to do it again soon.

Stay tuned to Brennerworld for more faffing about in the kitchen!

...even though I'm not.

My current interest is Italian cooking. Why is this? Well the long story short is that while having my car serviced at the dealership, and leafing through their collection of magazines, I came across one titled Saveur. It was full of gorgeous photos and recipes, one of which was for my favorite dish to cook at home, French Onion Soup! And they included historic photos of French restaurants that are still in existence - places to visit on our next trip, and motivation to visit yet again.

Yes, I know French Onion Soup is not Italian. But the dealership was so kind as to make me a photocopy of the article and I took a subscription card home to subscribe immediately.

As part of my paid subscription, I received two small recipe booklets, Italian Classics I and Italian Classics II. Then, I received my first issue, which was full of Italian recipes.

In the last week, I've made two pizzas completely from scratch. I've made a double batch of Ragu alla Bolognese, and with half of that I will be making homemade spinach pasta with which I will assemble lasagne. We polished off a recipe of Spaghettia alla Carbonara over the last two days. Delicioso!

Oh, and since I am now Italian, we had to go to Jimmy's Food Store, in Dallas proper, which is a neighborhood Italian market. There, I bought Parmesan Reggiano, Pecorino Romano, canned Italian tomatoes, and pancetta. So what that it cost me $20 in gas to drive there (plus we were going down that way anyway for wine tasting).

Next, I'll be trying some of the Ethiopan recipes from the last issue. The spices sound wonderful and we love lentils.

Watch for my installment titled, "I love being Ethiopian".

Yesterday was our seventh anniversary. At last, a day of celebration without one or both of us having some sort of viral infection!

So we did the usual anniversary stuff: We visited Celestial Park, where we were married, drove past some of the old haunts down in that area, and then went to dinner.

I always enjoy going back to Celestial Park, but it is so different now. The park isn't kept up as nice as it was back then, and there is usually someone loitering around the sundial (much like we do).

We visited the two apartment complexes where we lived as newlyweds, and they are really run down now. They may have been less than stellar while we lived there, but now they would be out of the question. I don't think it's a matter of us being used to nicer surroundings, I think the area has just gone to the dogs. Sorry, dogs.

My mother loves Oprah Winfrey.

Oprah likes to give things to people. Some of those things might be stupid and unnecessary ideas.

A rags to filthy riches story can be a wonderful thing, but let's not go off the deep end folks!

Jessica Seinfeld, supposedly wife of Jerry Seinfeld (of Seinfeld), supposedly cannot get her kids to eat regular ol' food. So, she wrote a book on how to sneak regular ol' food into kids.

She purees some vegetables and mixes minute quantities into desserts.

Hello?

Would you, as an intelligent human being, admit that you couldn't feed regular ol' food into a kid? For how many thousands of years have children been eating vegetables, etc.? All 11 Walton kids managed to live after eating just regular ol' food right out in the open.

My mother was so impressed with this idea of tricking children into eating desserts containing smidgens of vegetables, that she proclaimed Jessica Seinfeld a genius. So I asked my mother, "How did you manage to get us to eat our vegetables as kids?"

My mother's response: "I don't know, you just ate them!"

Helllooooooooo? Because that is what we were given!

And, to this day I love vegetables the best.

I know I won't win anyone over here, I won't even try. But rest assured, if you are feeding your kids hidden foods everyday, a bunch of people are laughing at your stupidity. And your kids are not going to sneak vegetables into their own undeveloped senses of taste later in life. You understand that, right? They will just eat sweets and fats because they never developed beyond that stage.

But hey, you won.