the gregarious homebody

Happy New Year!

2012-01-22T13:53:00.001-05:00

One of the best things about my new career is learning something new every single day. I love that. And the fact that the things I learn are so interesting certainly helps. I've always considered myself a pretty open-minded (though opinionated) person but working with international students has open my mind in ways I never could have imagined.


The two portraits below were taken by Anthoni, who is graduating in May. I miss him already! Look at him--is he not the cutest??

One culture I thought I knew pretty well from books/movies,etc. was Chinese culture. I've always loved Chinese literature. I love the poetry of their words. But one part that I misunderstood was that I always thought of their culture primarily as one of obedience to the state. There's much more to it than that. China is such a large country that, just like the US, there are subcultures just as there are so many dialects. I think you would have to travel to every province to begin to understand it all. But one of the best parts of their culture is shared by all Chinese and something that I share with them--a love of tradition and family (friends and blood relatives).

Qin is an artist and as lovely as she is quirky. Those glasses have no lenses but they look cool!

Filial piety is an important part of that. Sometimes, in books and movies, the respect for elders can seem binding and restraining, but I've seen the other side of it in these students--a genuine love (and like!) of their parents and a desire to make them proud. It's not something I consciously thought about when I was their age. I wanted my parents to be proud, sure, but mostly I was all about me me me. The balance can be delicate between making themselves happy and their parents proud but at its heart it is, for lack of a better word, very very nice to see.

Chenkai had the nerve to go back to China after getting his MBA because he didn't want his mother to miss him too much. I miss making him blush by telling him about his awesomeness.

And the food! I love the symbolism of almost everything they eat and the attention to detail in a simple dish. HH would love to eat Chinese food every night but what is served to us Americans, so I've learned, is a bastardized version of the authentic dishes served in China. When I asked what the difference was between what we have and "real" Chinese, my friend Chenkai said "Sugar. Everything you eat is so sweet." And I get that. As I get older, I'm finding I like things less sweet and more savory or tangy. I can't wait to go to China to taste the difference. Until then, I'll just have to make my own. Here's what I made for our Chinese New Year dinner--a new tradition!


Back to front: Noodles for long life, spring rolls for family reunion, and crab dumplings for wealth. (Edamame was there because we like them)

Tangerines for luck

Almond cookies for a sweet life

10 Wishes for 2012

2011-12-31T15:00:00.001-05:00

Let's not call them resolutions because then there's so much pressure.

See a friend find her feet again
Graduate with a 3.9 cum GPA (I can't help it, I'm a dork)
Crack The Boy's teenage veneer to get to know the new him better
Not react (negatively/personally) when The Girl is being 13
Hold HH's hand more
Get a better grip on a few things
Get a new ~~job~~ career
More patience for #'s 3 and 4
More patience in general
Health, happiness and all the rest for all I love

Simply Blown Away

2011-12-14T21:24:00.002-05:00

WOW

2011-12-08T10:50:00.000-05:00

I remember the first time I met Pat. I had mooched an invitation from Lynn to join her on a Girl Scout trip to Ringing Rocks in Bucks County. I was still in the part of my life when I didn't feel like I had the good good friends that I wanted. So much of having small children and staying home with them is comprised of joining play groups and talking to mothers and fathers and hoping to get a connection but sometimes that connection is only made up of the tenuous strings of both of you having small children.

I was so hoping for some real friends.

So we got to Ringing Rocks when everyone from her troop was already there. I had a vague recollection that the tow-headed girl with the Dutch boy haircut was little Caroline Ytsma because Lynn's daughter was in kindergarten with her. I climbed over towards her and heard her talking to "Pat," the man next to her with the same-colored hair.

"Pat! Look at what this rock looks like!

Pat! Listen to what this rock sounds like when I bash it in!

Pat! LOOK!!"

I asked Lynn who "Pat" was. "That's Caroline's father. She calls him Pat."

I considered myself open-minded, hip, even mildly sophisticated in my early 30's. But it would never ever cross my mind to "allow" a child to call their father by his first name, thinking it seemed....disrespectful somehow. Once I got to know Pat, I understood Judy's reasoning for "allowing" it.

"There is no question of who the children's father is and how they respect him.

They just call him Pat."

And she 's right. Pat is one of the best fathers I know. Pat's children had the best of him---teaching, snuggling, teasing, loving. That first meeting was an indication of the level of involvement, genuine liking of his children and his wife that Pat had. In a sea of Girl Scouts that first time we met, he was the one dad banging on those rocks with his girl.

And loving every minute of it.

Dying from the Cuteness

2011-11-29T10:23:00.001-05:00

I've become a knitter!

Raveled here

Oh My God a Post!

2011-11-22T09:44:00.001-05:00

This woman is smiling because her house is clean and she had nothing to do with it.

Becoming a grad student after working for 16 years in a completely different field as well as having two babies and raising them up was, in two words, an adjustment. For the first time in a long long time, I began to focus on myself. That sounds like a good thing—a relief—to someone who isn’t a mom and, in a lot of ways, it was. But the guilt is never far behind when a mom gives a few brain cells over to things other than house and home.

But, after wrestling with all the child-related what if’s and getting over the fear that I would be the oldest person in the room—including the professor—I began to have an amazing time as a student again. And the guilt began to fade away as I saw my husband (always a great father but a man with a full time job) take the reins with all the little tasks that make up a day in a family with children. The kids began to look to him for help with things when in the past, no matter what I was doing (making dinner, taking a shower!), they would ask me even if he was sitting there, doing nothing. He began to know their schedule probably better than I ever did, helping them with homework, signing permission forms, etc., while I could devote myself to reading for class and working on papers.

He even CLEANED THE HOUSE.

So, nearing the end of a three-year grad program, I’m now not only more educated and (hopefully!) a better candidate for a better job, I’m also a woman in a better marriage. I never imagined that would be one of the perks of going back to school. And while I still have some guilt that I don’t remember when my son’s history paper is due (or, honestly, what his History teacher’s name is), my kids have learned two things from their mom putting them second for the first time ever: education, at any age, is important (and do-able!) and a good marriage truly is a partnership.

Sometimes it’s 50/50. Most of the time it’s not.

Corners of My Home

2011-08-20T13:03:00.001-04:00

I can't be the only one

who is looking forward to the house not being

so full of humans

all day.

Nine more days...

*Vermont, It Is

2011-08-12T13:43:00.004-04:00

Diners that serve eggs from their own chickens

Supermarkets that sell all the necessities

Cool enough temperatures to enjoy a drink by the fire

Time to enjoy it

Cool college towns

Even cooler dogs

Delicious factory tours

So many places to swim

And cute places to window shop

Beautiful wildflowers

Once internet friends, now friends IRL

And lakeside, wood-canopied lanes

*Thank goodness there were no Bigfoot sightings. I was hoping for some moose though.

Finally

2011-08-10T15:02:00.003-04:00

Greetings from overcast, sunny, humid, cool, beautiful Vermont. It's a complex state and I love it. I've always loved New England. Although, truth be told, I'm not known for being objective--I tend to want to move to every place I've ever vacationed and Vermont is no exception.

Quechee Gorge

However, I think that this vacation is especially sweet because we've waited so long for it. Three years without a vacation may not sound like so much to loads of hard working people who are just happy to make enough money to pay the bills but because of The Economy (for a word with seven letters, it sure feels like a 4-letter one), these past three years have been a real challenge.

Only The Girl thought to bring her bathing suit

HH has always worked hard. He's always worked like every job was the most important one he's ever had. Getting laid off twice from two separate jobs in the past two summers has sucked way more than I could have imagined. Like many men, he took it personally, and I think, measured his personal worth by it. Which isn't fair at all.

The Boy, more animated than usual!

HH has also always lived by the clock. It takes a looooooong time for him to relax. He's always looking at what time it is to measure how long he has at a certain task until he gets to the next one. And that includes when he's having fun! So this vacation has been a real gift. Time to spend with his kids. Time to take pictures. Time to just be.

pretty

I want to thank HH right here for making it possible. He works so hard and all I can do (until I graduate and get a JOB) is try to make the off times good for him.

Homemade root beer, black cherry soda, and eggs from their own chickens. We recommend the Chelsea Royal Diner in West Brattleboro. So does Road Food.

I Present to You, Fern, The Wonder Glider

2011-07-31T11:47:00.005-04:00

Below is the story I sent Design Sponge for their Before and After series (thanks for the idea, Judy!)

Ever since I saw my friend Betsy’s red-painted metal glider that had belonged to her grandmother’s, I knew I had to have one. They’re so charming and who doesn’t want to be rocked while potentially lying down? Betsy’s was, I think, from the 40’s and solid metal with no need for cushions. While searching and searching ebay, Craigslist, and vintage glider websites, the only ones I could find like hers were not only super-rusted (I expected that) but also $400 and up (I did NOT expect that). And most of them were at least 3 hours away from my house.

Then, halleluiah, I found Fern. That’s what I call this little beauty, below:

I found her on Craiglist at a house that was right around the corner from where I work AND she was owned by fellow alumni of my grad school, AND she was $75! I’m not sure what I love more—the Bakealite handles on the ashtrays (ASHTRAYS!) or the chrome on the sides that makes her look like a ’57 Chevy. Though she was rusty, it was only surface rust. And though most of the cushion covers were in good shape, they weighed a ton so we figured there was a lot of potentially moldy cotton filler in those bad boys. Everything but the Bakealite handles had to be redone.

Renovating her was a group effort; I decided to have her professionally sandblasted and powder-coated and then I painted her with trusty Rustoleum spray paint, my husband shined her chrome accents (with wet aluminum foil) and my friend Kris who owns One Green Poppy made the cushions. I even got over my own sewing fears by making some throw pillows for her! Now she looks like this:

I may never get up again.

Sources: Fabric: Richloom Wilder Cabana; foam/pillow inserts: Joann Fabrics; paint: Rustoleum Ultra Cover in Satin Eden, glider: Craigslist

24k

2011-07-08T11:40:00.008-04:00

The garden is starting to get that bursting-at-the-seams look that can excite and bewilder. Everything's growing exponentially because of a recent rain after some good hot days. The weeds too, unfortunately. But ever since I realized Square Foot Gardening was the way to go (thanks, Mommy), weeding isn't too bad.

Understand that I am a fair-weather gardener; I sweat just standing still so if it's really hot, there's no way I'm spending any real time Out There. I have five 4x4' boxes and I can weed all 80 square feet (math!) in about 20 minutes. Even I can deal with that. Not that I'm going to today because, hello! It's H-U-M-I-D out there which is worse than hot. Wet underwear weather, people.

(too much?)

HOWEVER, I did spend 3 minutes picking today. Here's what I picked:


What's more than a bunch? That would be a shit ton.

Woo-hoo!! This is the very best part of vegetable gardening, apart from the eating. Is there nothing more miraculous than planting an itty-bitty-teeny-weeny seed (and carrot seeds are even smaller than that) and getting something this big THAT YOU CAN EAT?

I know!!

And I haven't always had the best luck with carrots so this is even more exciting. Here are some more pictures of the beauties.

Small, Medium, and LARGE!


Here at Topp-Down Organic Farm, we specialize in Saucy Mutant-Limbed Carrots!

And more demure mutant-limbed ones (who might have to go to the bathroom)

And sea creatures!

And there are still pretty many carrots still out there growing in the garden!! How will I ever be able to use this many? HOW??!!

SERIOUSLY?? Is that ALL?? Let's break it down: $2.50 in seeds to wait 2 months to grow the amount of organic carrots I usually spend $3 on at the grocery store?!

Clearly, not a bargain. (And how do carrot farmers make ANY money?)

SO MANY CARROTS! not really.

However, I'm also clearly not just in it for the cheap. I love the planning, the watching-it-grow, and the harvesting. It's psychically satisfying. And I know I'll be really really happy when the tomatoes ripen and I'm no longer spending $2 on one decent tomato.

Tomatoes are a bargain.

And lots of ...compost material! Even Rosie looks perplexed.

What's on the horizon for this garden:

Potatoes are located in that ka-lassy tire back there. Check out this space-saving technique!

Tomatoes, eggplant, cucumbers, more arugula, more chard (and more chard, and more chard), basil, lemon thyme, cauliflower, brussels sprouts, canteloupe, pumpkins, blueberries, sunflowers, asparagus (in 3 years), potatoes, lettuce, acorn squash, and more carrots!

And that's just this summer! I'm determined to try my hand at some carpentry with a cold frame from old windows to grow some winter greens, beets and broccoli.

Until then, I'll be making carrot salad, arugula topped pizza, artichoke and chard dip, and many many platters of caprese salad. And more things topped with chard. And arugula. And chard. You get the picture.

Planning Our Route

2011-07-06T16:33:00.004-04:00

I decided to invest in a guidebook my friend Judy has been using successfully for years.

I am so happy.

Our vacation isn't until August but I am READY. And now that I have this guidebook I'm ready to go even more.

Why, you ask? Because said book offers all the great places to soak up the history of our forefathers and mothers that is New England? Because it divulges the places to get the best deals for antiques and folk art?

Nope.......

Because THIS guidebook tells me where to get the best of these:

From Dottie's Diner in Woodbury, CT

or the best of THIS:

From the 52nd Annual Hillbilly Day in Mountain Rest, SC

Or, for all things that are holy, THIS!

Belt's Soft Serve in Stevens Point, WI

Try as I might to wish myself a different person sometimes, food and the enjoyment of food is a big part of me (ha. ha. ha. Insert self-effacing joke here). I truly believe that food, the preparation of it, the serving of it, and the enjoyment of it has huge anthropological import. Really! If you look at our blended society, for example, one of the things people cling to is their culture's food. And what's more satisfying than *ahem* learning about a local culture by eating its food?

And, clearly, I'm no food snob. My favorite place is a Mom-and-Pop place. There's love (or something) in that food. It's real. It's friendly. And,it doesn't waste effort being fancy.

So, I will let Jan and Michael Stern be my guides and just make sure I do lots of hiking to balance it all out. Here they are now---and don't they just look like fun?!

And, much as I would love to have their life--Steve and I would be great at it and he would be able to talk to strangers for a living---me thinks the picture above foretells the tale of the inequity of life that would most definitely be my fate.

Damn men and their metabolism.

All photos from the Roadfood blog

What I've Been Up To

2011-07-02T09:15:00.003-04:00

Riding around in a pick-up truck with these knuckleheads

To get these

To make this

Look more like this

And FINALLY, after much looking, finding this

And making plans to turn it into an After so we can enjoy more of this

Finally,

tending to this

So I can make more of these.

I hope your Summer is as sweet as mine is so far!

A Very Quick True Story

2011-05-16T23:41:00.000-04:00

One weekend a loooong time ago, before cell phones and facebook and blogs, HH and I were house-sitting for his sister in NYC. After an evening out we went to bed. HH went to sleep and I stayed up watching a naked talk show or something on channel J. Remember Channel J?? This was before we had 10000 channels, people. Channel J was exotic.

Anyway, I'm watching, slightly embarrassed about HH waking up and catching me when suddenly he sits straight up in bed, looks at me with a huge smile on his face and exclaims

"I feel like a pair of

freshly-painted airplane wings!"

The man was still asleep. I know because I asked him if he was and he said "Uh-huh!" with the same glee in his voice.

After I told him to go back to sleep he did. Simple as that. I sat there wishing we weren't alone and wishing it wasn't 3 am so I could call someone to tell them.

HH woke up the next morning with no memory of having said anything but feeling strangely refreshed.

Dreams are weird.

The Gregarious Homebody is...

2011-05-09T09:15:00.000-04:00

Reading

Drinking

Hating

Loving

and

Dreaming of

Week Two

2011-04-10T17:51:00.000-04:00

Geez, Jill, I'm TRYING!

The Burn

2011-04-03T13:49:00.004-04:00

There is a game I love to play and I'm sure I'm not alone. It's called The Lottery Game and What You Would Do With All that Money if You Won It (I've never spelled out the game before. That name is LONG). After the first couple of things I always say I would do--take friends and selected family on a big cruise, set up a college account for a nephew and a suh-weet retirement account for two friends--I would hire a personal trainer to come to my house, say, 3 mornings a week, to scream at me to GET OUT OF BED AND MOVE MY ARSE. Specifically, I would want to hire


Hello! LOOK at her. She's fit but still looks like a woman. And she's mean.

her-->

Unfortunately, I have not won the lottery (sorry friends with no retirement account!), so I've decided to try something that Meg is trying. Jillian Michael's Ripped in 30 Days is a 30 -day (duh) program in which you do one week of level 1 and then progress to, you guess it, levels 2-4.

I just did level 1 today. I felt like I was having a heart attack. On level 1. This should be "interesting" but I am determined to keep it up. Jill (we're friends now) suggests you do it 5-6 days a week. I'm going to shoot for 4-5 days because I'm committed to mediocrity. But I'm going to do it. I've been running off and on for almost 2 years and I'm still not loving it and I'm still not even running the whole time I'm out there. Someone tells me that if I keep at it, I'll get there. But a huge part of me (probably my butt) thinks I need to get into shape a little more before I run successfully. Weird, I know, because most people get in shape by running. But I think I am so OUT of shape that I need a push with some strength training and cardio.

I used to be SO STRONG. I could crack a walnut between my thighs, people (ask HH... teeehee). I am someone who puts on muscle easily. Alas, I am also someone who puts on weight (fat) easily too. And I'm 41. Double bummer.

I am aware that this is probably one of my most boringest posts ever but I'm putting this out there so I have some level of accountability. Help me, Rhonda, I hope this keeps up. I don't want to be older faster than time is doing its thing. I want to be strong and energetic (to the level that people think I am because of my personality). I want to feel great!

I don't think I'll be exactly RIPPED in 30 days, but I'm pretty sure I'll tear something.

**I just read this post and noticed the glaring irony of my masthead. But who wants to look at something healthy?

Happy Birthday to Me

2011-03-30T13:09:00.002-04:00

Healthy.

Happy.

Excited for the future.

Loved.

(And only occasionally frustrated by my children)

On Strike

2011-03-08T17:31:00.002-05:00

In my memory, this iconic sign said "Strike."

Okay, I'm not really on strike. I'm just considering it. Having a pre-teen daughter and a teenage son is not all it's cracked up to be. Not that many people think it's tons of fun but I guess I thought it would be. Well, that's not it either, really. Here's what I thought, honestly. I thought that my OWN teenage years were so recent that not only would I be sooooooooo understanding, I would also be an ally instead of Other.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA!

I'm sure those of you who have already been through this just fell off your chair at how dumb I am. But I really did think that. I can remember, almost tangibly, how tortured I felt--stuck somewhere between I Want My Mommy and Why Won't She Just Leave Me Alone. Because I remember it so well, I thought I would understand from the parent perspective as well.

Turns out it hurts. A lot. I didn't realize how much it hurts my feelings that I seem to be the punching bag for my daughter and invisible to my son. This is just one of many moments that I wish I could talk to my mom about how she felt. And to hear that Everything Will Be Okay.

She looks nice here. Don't be fooled. She crazy.

Since, short of calling up that Medium wanker (and what a bee-eye-tee-see-aitch she turned out to be!), I can't talk to my mom, I'll have to lean on my friends. Lynn, Judy...you've been warned.

I Think I Just Peed My Pants

2011-03-02T11:26:00.000-05:00

http://megduerksen.typepad.com/

2011-02-28T22:00:00.005-05:00

This is what turns up when you google "flu bug."
This thing is too cute for something so yucky.

My poor sick boy.

First The Girl had it. Then I had it. Then she had it again. Then I had it again.

Can HH escape its wrath???

2011-02-25T18:05:00.004-05:00

Now THIS would be an interesting group

Those who know me will say that I talk a lot. I've been told my whole life that my mouth "waddles like a duck's rear end (thanks, Dad). But most of the time, I think it's a good thing. And while my childhood report cards may have said things like "talks too much," at least they didn't say what my father so proudly tells us his own report card said: "Talks too much and annoys others." I'm sure I've annoyed some people with my talking (friends, please tell me if I do!), but most of my worst yammering is either because I'm nervous and trying to fill uncomfortable silences or because I want to get to know you. Not filling every silence is something that I, as a grown-up 40 year old woman, am trying to work on. I'm getting better at it and even liking the silence sometimes. I'll bet others are enjoying it too.

For the most part, I think people find me easy to talk to because I talk. I open myself up, I make fun of myself, and I try very hard to put people at ease. I do not (at least I don't think I do--friends, tell me if I do PLEASE) ramble on and on about myself. While I will disclose the latest stupid thing I've done or admit that I sometimes feel/do/act the same way you do at your very worst, I do not think I am so very interesting as to talk incessantly about what makes me ME. I am very self-conscious about making sure I don't.

Because, people, I am also a good listener.

Now, lest you think all this blather is proving I am full of crap and DO talk about myself, I'm coming to my point.

I am in a group processes seminar in school, which is basically about group dynamics (good! Interesting!) and also teaches us how to have group therapy (dumb! not necessary for my major!). I love the professor, in all his counselor-ly ways. Love him. But there are some who are in the class who think a) they are beyond the class and know everything and b) are so wrapped up in what They are All About that they can't even see when they are being, ahem, a-holes.

I'm not going to disclose anything because I am a Keeper of Secrets, but I am going to vent that I, a talker, had to tell someone else in my small group that he was Talking Too Much and not letting anyone in. He turned it around and said it was because our personalities clash because we are Too Similar. WHAT? I had to explain the difference between Talking A lot (small amounts, in many instances) and Talking Too Much (9 minutes for an answer to a question. THAT, my friends, is a soliloqy).

A show of hands from those who think I should make this very pie for next week's group?

Now, I thank you for listening. I'm going to do what that pie says and see what happens next week.

2011-02-05T11:37:00.000-05:00

This would be amazing for HH and I when the kids fly the coop!

February 3rd

2011-02-03T22:13:00.002-05:00

...can kiss my tuchus.

I still miss her like it was yesterday.

Twelve Years

2011-01-27T07:24:00.000-05:00

Happy Birthday, beautiful girl.

My Kind of Night

2011-01-17T17:54:00.001-05:00

Look! I even remembered flowers (or Judy and Ann did. Thanks girls!!).

Saturday night was the start of a new thing: The Girlfriend Dinner. Twelve friends, from all over who didn't necessarily know each other before, hanging out and talking (and laughing!) without the intrusion of their other halves. Well, mine intruded a bit and so did Audrey's but those two are *almost* one of the girls themselves (or at least they fancy themselves to be!) so it was okay.

I think I would very much like to have one of these get-togethers at least twice a year (next time, brunch?). I loved looking down the length of my dining room and seeing all these amazing women whom I'm just lucky to know, let alone the fact that most of them would take a bullet for me. And it was so loud with laughter! Who doesn't love that?

Here's what we had:

To start
*Muhammara with homemade pita chips

For dinner
Chicken Marbella
Armenian Rice Pilaf
Roasted Butternut Squash and Spinach Salad
Roasted Cauliflower Salad with Arugula
Store-bought Ciabatta bread

Make this for your next dinner party. You will thank me AND The Silver Palate ladies.

For dessert
**Coconut Macaroons
Shortbread Ripple Biscotti
Kouign Amann (OH. MY. GOD.)
Chocolate Sorbet

*this isn't the recipe that I used (can't find it!) but it's close
**quadruple this recipe because it only makes 4 big ones. Unless you want 4 big ones teeheehee

This Salad is So Good I Want to Lick the Pictures

2011-01-04T18:49:00.006-05:00

How did I never have baby arugula (rocket) before? I guess because I have a distinct memory of someone in When Harry Met Sally ordering *Grilled Arugula and yuck, how gross is that? Plus I'm not one for the bitter.


This is the scene! Remember? "Pesto is the quiche of the 80's" ?? I love the internet.

But I reeeeeeaaaaallllly digress.

Baby arugula isn't bitter...it's peppery and DELICIOUS. Like, I kept eating it raw and unadorned and that's just unheard of with me (I mean, c'mon...salad is just a foil for delicious dressing).

Anyhoo, this post is about a fantastic salad that contains not only baby arugula but another delicious and sometimes unsung vegetable--cauliflower. Roasted, this pale stuff tastes almost like popcorn. Add some shallots and thyme? YUM. I got this recipe via Alexis. Say what you want about her....the girl makes a lot of good food.

Here's the recipe with my changes in bold. And this recipe is supposed to make enough for 8. Obviously not 8 of me. Maybe 3.

Roasted Cauliflower Salad with Fresh Goat Cheese

Ingredients

Roasted Cauliflower:
3 (2) tbs. olive oil
1 large cauliflower, separated into large florets and thinly sliced through stem
2 shallots, thinly sliced
1 small bunch thyme (1 tsp. dry)
~~2 tsp. coriander seeds~~
Salt and white pepper

Don't be stupid. ROAST this!

Salad:
1 green apple, cut into quarters and sliced
2-~~3 radishes, thinly sliced~~
1-2 carrots, peeled and thinly sliced into rounds
~~1/2 thinly sliced red onion~~
1/2 cup yellow raisins, ~~plumped (in warm water) and drained~~ mine were plump already
1/2 cup dried cranberries
2 cups baby arugula
~~3 tbs. pine nuts, toasted~~
2 oz. fresh goat cheese, crumbled


Don't omit these, even if your kids are stupid and pick them out. The peppery arugula + sweet dried fruit=SLURP

Apple-Cider Dressing:
1 tbs. Dijon mustard
3 tbs. cider vinegar
2/3 cup (heaping 1/3 cup) olive oil
Salt and white pepper

Instructions

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. ~~Heat the oil in a roasting pan over medium-high~~ ~~heat, add the cauliflower, season with salt and pepper, and cook for about 6 minutes, until golden brown~~. Turn the slices, add the remaining ingredients, and season with salt and pepper. Set in oven and roast for about 10 minutes, until golden brown. Remove from the oven, and keep warm. I roasted it from the get-go in the oven, adding the shallots after about 10 minutes. I think it would've been crispier if I had done it this way though.

In a small bowl, whisk mustard with vinegar and a large pinch of salt, add the oil, and season with pepper. In a large bowl, combine all salad ingredients (except for the pine nuts and goat cheese), add a few spoonfuls of dressing, and season to taste with salt and pepper.

Place the cauliflower in the center of a large plate, arrange the salad ingredients around the cauliflower, and drizzle with the remaining dressing. Finish with cheese and ~~pine nuts.~~ (Published 2010)


Uh, yeah. I couldn't wait until HH and the Boy got home. I quickly ate this before the Girl could come downstairs and ask to be fed too.

Pretty!

*Edited to add: I AM A MORON. It was grilled RADICCHIO not arugula. And to think I've been missing out all this time unnecessarily.

A Walk to Beautiful

2010-12-30T23:42:00.003-05:00

I don't realize enough how lucky I am to be born in this country, as a woman. Our health care may be...difficult to deal with in a lot of ways but at least I--and my daughter--will never have to worry about {this}.

I think one of the first things I will do when I'm gainfully employed is to make a donation to {this foundation}. No one should have to live a life like these poor girls have have had to.

Pret-ty Pleased with Myself (Another Before-and-After)

2010-12-29T20:23:00.005-05:00

This break has found me finishing some projects. *SHOCKER*
And I'm feeling pretty good about it.

Behold:


Before (duh): nice lines, disgusting-colored wood. Awesome (?) hardware under all that tarnish?

After: My go-to white, Behr Linen White semi-gloss, nice and shiny brass hardware (thanks to this ), glass top (which came with it!!!). BTW, does anyone know a good way to not have wires show??? TOTAL price: $54 because I had the paint and Brasso! Woo-hoo!

Next purchase: a chest of drawers or some kind of buffet to store office supplies.

Stay tuned!

Gifts on a Stick

2010-12-28T20:22:00.001-05:00

I'm probably the last one to blog about these. I know...I made them last year too. But they're just so friggin cute and delicious to boot. I think these make a nice gift all winter long (hostess, Valentine, whatever).

The recipe is here from King Arthur. I made another recipe last year that had cocoa and they just weren't as good. Nothing beats realchocolate and heavy cream. Just make sure you don't cut your tongue on the sweetened condensed milk can.

I have no personal experience with this, I've just *heard* it can happen.

Anyway, here's the step by delicious step:

Okay, not exactly step by step, but melting chocolate isn't very interesting. So, I simmered the heavy cream and condensed milk and then dumped the chocolates in and melted them. Then I poured the whole mess into a *foil-lined pan. *Note: HH thought I was a genius even though I told him this wasn't my trick. To line a pan with foil, turn the pan over and then smooth the foil on, folding corners like a present. Then flip pan right side up and the foil slides right in.

So the recipe says to let it sit overnight but who has time for that? Let it set up a bit (why? I don't know) at room temp and then throw it into the fridge until it's solid. Then, cut into 36 squares.

While those bad boys are setting up, you're going to make your own marshmallows. YES. You ARE. Because it's easy and because the crap in the supermarket is only good for camping trips after you've tasted these! Follow this recipe but don't line the pan with parchment and do NOT sprinkle the pan with a mixture of cornstarch and powdered sugar, even if you've heard this is the right thing to do. Because corn starch is gross and makes a squeaky sound akin to Styrofoam and I hate that. Just spray the pan with nonstick spray, sift some powdered sugar over the top of the goo once you've poured it in, and when they're ready, dump them out onto more powdered sugar. Cutting them is a pain in the butt--I've tried scissors with success but think I'm going to try my mondo pizza cutter next time. Because there will be a next time.

Now get ready for sticking! You've already bought some sticks from here, right? Next time I'm going to put them on a candy cane, I think. Yeah. Anyway, line everything up and have at it. After I was done putting everything together on a big piece of parchment, I cut it into squares around the chocolate so they wouldn't stick to the plastic wrap I was wrapping them with. LEARN FROM ME:This was stupid. Spend about 3 minutes cutting out about a million 2-inch squares and then plop the finished stick onto the squares instead of cutting around them like an idiot. I'm here to make the mistakes so you don't have to. I'm a giver.


See? Like this. I got smart(er) with the second batch. Then wrap them up in nice cellophane or not-as-nice saran wrap because damn-it, that's what you have lying around, and tie with a ribbon. I put 4-6 each in coffee bags with windows I got from here last year. I'm almost out of them and I love them. Then give to your friends and they can make this:

Or they can just be like my ~~barbarians~~ children and eat the whole thing right off the stick. Whatever.

A Very Jewish Christmas

2010-12-24T19:46:00.003-05:00

I have always loved Christmas. When I was a kid I celebrated it the way a lot of people do--not religiously but in a steeped-in-tradition way. When I converted to Judaism, I only celebrated it with my parents, not in my own home. I cried for about 3 years in a row, driving home to my apartment I shared with HH that did not have a Christmas tree. It was a huge transition for me and really, the only real one when I converted, this not celebrating Christmas in my own home. But I felt it was right one. If I was going to embrace Judaism I was going to have to give up those old traditions and make my own new Jewish ones.

Chinese, Japanese, whatever. It's not a baked ham. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Fast forward to now: I still love Christmas. I love the tiny (and not so tiny) lights on the trees. I love the giving. I love the food. And we have our own traditions. We always see a movie. In the past we've gone to the movies with our non-Jewish friends who also see a movie every Christmas eve. We often have Chinese food (like every other American Jew in the world).

No teenagers were forced into having their picture taken here. This time.

Most of all what I love about Christmas is being together with my kids and HH in our undecorated Jewish house. The best part is the being together with my little family part. The kids literally have NOWHERE ELSE TO GO.

This man would trade all this togetherness for more sushi.

Who needs caroling when you can eat chocolate mochi and play Boggle?

It's a forced togetherness but I'll take what I can get.

Before and After

2010-12-13T09:28:00.005-05:00

I'm totally copying {Design*Sponge} because I'm so proud that I got something done around the house.


BEFORE (duh)

AFTER

Credenza from {here}, painted with Martha paint in {Cornbread}, then distressed with sandpaper and finished with {Butcher's Wax}. Total cost: $65.97. Woo-hoo!

I Love My Girlfriends

2010-12-11T09:04:00.004-05:00

L'Chaim! Or however people on the Mayflower toasted Hanukkah.

Every time I have a party we have a million people and I love love love it. The only thing I don't like is that it leaves me wanting more--more time to talk, more time to laugh with my girlfriends. More time.

Her ankle injury was sustained before drinking. I have no explanation for the glasses.

Even My Camera Has a Layer of Oil On It

2010-11-28T16:54:00.000-05:00

Hey kids!

It's time to celebrate the oiling of the colon!

It's Hanukkah!

Seriously, I do this every year. I make a ton of latkes the week before our annual Hanukkah Open House and I eat about a hundred of them while I'm making them until I make myself, well, sick (ifyaknowwhatImean).

They are so delicious though. Crispy around the edges, lacy and weirdly crablike in appearance, fluffy creamy and mashed potato-y in the middle....yum....

The recipe I'm going to share is the one I make all the time. I see no reason to fiddle around with others. It may seem like extra work if you're accustomed to making the regular shredded raw potato latke but it's the only way to get the crispy and fluffy combination that I love so much (you will too!).

See? Fluffy AND crispy!

I've posted the original recipe which I noted some time ago makes 6 dozen mini latkes (cocktail size--really mini) but I always triple it and get a couple pans of oil going to knock out a load of them. I then *freeze them in a single layer on the pan they've been draining on and finally dump them into a plastic container. The day of the party I take them out of the freezer and hour before and then recrisp them at about 300 degrees.

After they've cooled to room temp, put them in the freezer just like this until they're solid

*IMPORTANT POINT: If you don't freeze them and instead make them fresh the day of your party your house will smell like Burger King. AND NOT IN A GOOD WAY. Reheating them during the party only makes them release a bit of their delicious scent--it won't be overpowering--and your guest will thank you for not sending them in their french fry-scented holiday sweaters. Seriously, don't give people any more reasons for hating the Jews!

New-Age Latkes

{Marcy Goldman}

1 1/2-1 3/4 pound large red potatoes, whole (don't peel!)

1 medium onion, peeled and quartered

4 eggs

2 heaping tablespoons flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking powder

Black pepper, to taste

About a quart of vegetable or canola oil (oy!)

Place potatoes in a large pot and cover with cold water. Bring to a boil on the stove. When it comes to a boil, set a timer for 10 minutes and continue boiling.
Drain pot in colander and put potatoes back into the pot, covering with cold water. Drain again and repeat with the cold water. Let potatoes sit in cold water for 5 minutes.
Place your pan or pans over medium high heat and pour in about 2 inches of oil. Ideally, it should heat to 365 degrees, but I can't find my candy thermometer so I fry a cube of bread to see when it's ready (the bread immediately starts to brown when it's ready.) I LOVE my cast iron pan for this. It holds the heat so well. My other pan fluctuates in heat when I add the latke batter, which makes them greasier. I also love that HH bought that pan for me at a garage sale for 25 cents. Score!
Next, drain and dry the potatoes. Really. Put each of them on a paper towel and dry them off lovingly and thoroughly .
Now, either shred potatoes and onions in food processor using a shredding disc (the way I do it) or shred by hand into a large bowl. Add eggs, flour, salt, baking powder, and pepper. Mix well (I use my hands) and taste to correct seasoning (don't be a panty-waist--the raw egg WILL NOT KILL YOU).
Time to fry! Drop a teaspoon-ful if you want minis. Go larger if you want them, well, larger. The important thing is to let them go for a bit and not mess with them. When you can see the edges begin to brown, turn them with a pair of tongs. If you're going to freeze and reheat them (and you are, RIGHT??), don't cook them for more than a minute or two on the other side. You want them light brown so that they don't burn when you reheat.
Drain on paper towel-lined cookie sheets. I put a layer of newspaper under my paper towels. I think it helps.
Freeze in a single layer or eat right now until you feel the need to, ahem, stop.

L'Chaim!

Happy Hanukkah to Me!

2010-11-19T19:27:00.000-05:00

from {here}

I Love Fall

2010-11-05T23:07:00.004-04:00

{A new twist to a tradition}

{Decorations turned into food}

{Sampling a summer harvest}

{Cake for a tailgate}
Loving all things pumpkin
(can't find the link to these aMAZing pancakes--let me know if you want the recipe)

Something New

2010-10-23T22:00:00.002-04:00

Today was a really good day. And it felt like what the next chapter will be like and I think I like it.

Today I spent the day with my husband.

This may not sound earth-shattering but when you've been pretty much consumed with the daily life of having children for 14 years, a simple day out doing things that have nothing to do with them is pretty amazing.

HH and I went to a {really cool used furniture store in K-town} to look for some paintables cheap. Score! We agreed on a gnarly orangey desk with awesome hardware and a cool/weird drawer that has these wooden slats in them for files (I think) and a long credenza to help reconfigure our family room to create two areas--one for tv-watching and one for a home office. The price for two solid wood pieces of furniture that need at most a paint job and at least a cleaning up? $53. Take that, IKEA. AND the place had the entertainment factor of employing the most {burnt} guy on the planet. The dude is WEIRDLY fascinating.

After that, a trip to the farmer's market for lunch, some candy, and 20 pumpkins (work event!). THEN (this keeps getting more awesome) a trip to my favorite {Mennonite store} which HH was impressed by simply because of the juxtaposition of them selling wasabi powder AND all the accoutrement for making homemade sausage. Finally, a slow ride home through the country, a nap, and a {popcorn dinner}.

Heavenly.

I get sad thinking that someday the kids will be gone. I worry that they won't want to visit or that *shudder* they will feel the way we do about some of our respective kin, but today was a spark of the great part of this upcoming change.

I think it's going to be fun.

Jane Austen's Fight Club

2010-10-12T21:33:00.000-04:00

Seventeen Years and Counting

2010-09-12T10:55:00.001-04:00


Happy Anniversary, HB.

Dear Blogger,

2010-09-04T18:37:00.003-04:00

Your new "template designer" sucks. All I wanted to do was change my font colors to a more Fall-like palette. All I wanted to do was update the season on my little tiny blog. But NO. Change is a must with you, Blogger. Change is ALWAYS good according to you. If it's not broke, then by all means, fix it Blogger.

Now my blog looks stupid with its way-to-the-left off-centeredness. Is it too much to ask to JUST WANT TO CHANGE A FONT COLOR?

By the looks of the number of people who have typed some form of this letter into your "Help" (ha!) feature, I am not alone. Until you make it easier to do things the way they were done before, I'm not speaking to you. Get back to me when you realize that oldies are sometimes goodies.

Suck it,
Jen

And....They're Normal!

2010-08-25T12:18:00.001-04:00

From {here}

FINALLY

2010-08-23T20:28:00.002-04:00


See? {Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuge}.

We have tomatoes! My plants are HUGE and have been full of large green tomatoes for what seems like months but they're finally FINALLY ripening.

And some of them suck.

SADNESS.

Because I am an erratic record-keeper when it comes to my gardening (and, okay, my life), I can't remember two of the tomatoes I planted. I mean I remember planting them, but I have no idea what kind they are. They are both "heirloom" and therefore, supposedly tastier. Supposedly is the key word here because the red ones taste exactly like nothing. A wet nothing. The other one, which is a beautiful yellow (and HUGE) are delicious. So it would be helpful if I remembered their names because there is no way in hell I would buy the first one again and the second one is a Must Plant for next year. Oh well.

I do remember the name of the third plant for some reason. It's called a {Green Zebra} and they are a small tomato--not cherry-size but small. They are gorgeous and delicious when fully-ripened or not. I got {rully rully} excited and thought they were ripe because they were this awesome bright yellow with the green stripes and were delicious like that but then I just found some that had turned red (wow! a red tomato! ...this is the kind of gardener I am) and they too were delish. But holy crap, I just checked the link I just sent you to and they're supposed to be yellow so now I'm totally confused.

See the stripes? Cute and delicious! Like Robert Pattinson! And my husband!

Again: organized. That's me.

So anyway, I picked all these ripe tomatoes and then wondered what the hell to do with them because 3/4 of them tasted like the aforementioned nothing. I pondered the crazy amount of tomatoes that taste like nothing that I have coupled with the impressive amounts of tomatoes that taste fantastic that I have and had my yearly "Why do I plant so many tomatoes when I'm the only one in the house that really really likes them?" conversation with myself.

So I made some {roasted tomatoes}. And HALLELUJA they are phenomenal. Unbelievably delish. EVEN THE NOTHING ONES. Now I've had roasted tomatoes before and loved them but assumed they had to be made from tomatoes that tasted like tomatoes to be good. But ALL OF THEM were delicious. Scrumptious even. They were so good that after I peeled off all the skins in preparation to freeze said tomatoes, I ate the skins. They were that good.

This looks awful. It is glorious.

You can't tell this pan is clean (because it's old and seen a lot of action) but it is.

Because I licked it.

I wish I were kidding.

With the other yellow tomato that tastes good all on its own without embellishment, I made an old standby from {Farmgirl}. You absolutely must click on {this} or {this} or {this} because you need to make this:

Behold, a thing of biscuity beauty.

It's made out of biscuit dough, people, so how could it be bad? My kids even like it even though they are ridiculous and pick out the tomatoes but still. (So technically I guess that means they like pesto, biscuit and cheese but whatever.) I sacrifice myself and eat their scraped-out tomatoes that still have some pesto on them because I am above all, selfless.

Farmgirl's Savory Tomato Pesto Pie
Makes One 9-Inch Pie
Pesto (homemade or store-bought)

For The Crust:
2 cups all-purpose flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup (1 stick/ 4 ounces) cold butter
1 cup (about 2-1/2 ounces) finely grated pecorino romano (or other hard cheese)
3/4 cup milk

Combine the flour, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl. Mix in the butter using a pastry blender, fork, or your fingers until the largest pieces are pea-size. Stir in the pecorino romano. Pour in the milk and use a fork to gently form a soft dough. Do not overmix. Divide the dough in two pieces, making one slightly larger than the other.

On a generously floured surface, use a rolling pin to gently roll out the larger piece of dough into a circle about 12 inches across, rolling from the center outward. Sprinkle dough with flour if sticky. Gently fold the dough in half and transfer into a 9-inch pie pan. If the dough tears, simply press it back together with your fingers. Roll out the remaining piece of dough into a slightly smaller circle and set aside (or wait until you have the filling in the pan and then roll it out).

Assembling The Pie:
1 cup pesto, divided
2-1/2 pounds of the best plum tomatoes you can find, sliced lengthwise into 4 or 5 slices each
8 ounces mozzarella, grated or thinly sliced (I used fresh which can't be grated)
1/2 cup (about 1-1/4 ounces) finely grated pecorino romano (or other hard cheese)

Using a spoon, spread 1/2 cup of pesto over the bottom layer of dough in the pie pan. Layer about half of the tomatoes over the pesto. Cover the tomatoes with about 2/3 of the mozzarella. Layer on the rest of the tomatoes (you may not need them all to fill the pan). Carefully spread the remaining 1/2 cup of pesto over the tomatoes. Cover with the remaining mozzarella and the pecorino romano.

Roll out the second piece of dough if you haven't already, and carefully place it over the pie. Fold the edge of the bottom piece over the top piece and press together to seal. Use your fingers to make a crimped design around the edge. If any dough falls apart, simply press it back together with your fingers. Don't worry if it isn't perfect. The handmade look has much more charm. Cut four slits in the top of the pie for steam to escape. Bake at 375 degrees F in the center of the oven until the crust is golden brown, about 40 minutes. Cover the edge with foil if it starts to brown too quickly.

It freezes beautifully.

Oh My....

2010-08-21T09:10:00.000-04:00

Thank god I got my Netflix privileges back.

I Love Being 40

2010-08-20T08:15:00.001-04:00

Dear Mommy,

2010-08-08T21:02:00.004-04:00

If you were here today, there is so much that I would want to say to you. I don't think we'd ever stop talking. Some of it is pretty mundane stuff, like I would want to tell you that I could indeed train not only one puppy myself but two because yes I DID have enough patience.

And I would want to tell you that I don't live in a teeny little house that you have to walk through my bedroom to get to the baby's room anymore but instead have a medium house that I've "decorated" with stuff I love and I think you would love.

Not mentioned in the letter below: it was okay to NOT breastfeed. Thanks, Mommy!

I would tell you that I'm back in school and then you would say

"WHAT???!!!!!!???"

And then I would tell you that so far I have a 4.0 but I'm really afraid of this coming semester because I have to take Statistics. And then YOU would say that you don't know where I got my math ineptitude because both you and my father are very good at it but you're really really proud anyway.

And then we would talk about gardening and the kids and the husband and whatever we'd read recently or watched on tv. We would just chatter and say "I really should go" and then either talk a 1/2 hour longer or hang up and call right back with "just one more thing."

I would do nothing except maybe kill someone in order to have these every-day, whatever kind of conversations with you. But I'd really consider homicide if I thought I could talk to you about one thing---raising a daughter.

You always said that you would rather raise 10 girls than even one boy again not because I was such an angel but because those boys in our house were, ahem, a handful. But I could be an emotional handful too. So here's what I would say to you if I could:

I don't even know where to start with this.

I grew into my forehead since then but came to understand that

bangs are my friends.

Thank you for telling me I was beautiful even though there were times I was definitely not (see above) and never making me think you didn't mean it. Now I know that you actually did mean it because a mom can look through the tell-tale awkward phase and see the girl within. Most of the time (see below).

I'm sorry for that time at the mall when I walked 6 feet in front of you so no one would think I was with you. I remember you telling me how much that hurt you and now I can safely say that I feel your pain.

Thank you for putting up with other inexplicable moods that had nothing to do with you but were nonetheless aimed at you. And having the where-with-all to photograph it because I laugh/cringe every time I come across it. By the way, I also forgive you for allowing me to have that hair.

That, my friends, is a PUSS on my face. I was going sailing and my mom MADE ME. Poor thing.

Thanks for giving me a lot of freedom. I know some of this "giving" was actually exhaustion on some level (reread the part about the boys in my family, above), but still. It's hard to send a kid out there and to let them spread those wings. And when there's a car involved I really have to hand it to you. But, speaking of cars, I also thank you for having the smarts to know that teaching me to drive would probably cause damage to our already tenuous-at-the-time relationship and hiring a driving teacher. Smart.

This picture was taken right after I got my license and right before I left for the four

hour drive to Penn State. Without a cell phone. I just got my license. Get it??!!

Thanks for letting me buy a $200 dress for the prom because it was the only one I really liked and you thought it was awesome too. Now, in retrospect, and with my current shopping experiences with my daughter I realize that writing out that $200 check might have been exhaustion too. But thanks anyway. I felt like a very hot Minnie Mouse.

It was the 80's alright? And this dress still rocks.

Most of all, I would thank you for sticking it out with me. I think you knew we'd be back to being close, that I would no longer wage that battle within myself of needing you and hating you for it but instead just needing you and liking you again. You told me that age 12 to 17 were a little rough but that even though you sometimes didn't like me, you knew you would again.

Lastly, I would tell you that I wish you could come back here for at least the next 5 years to remind me that even though my daughter will probably bruise my heart like I did yours, we'll be more than fine in the end.

The Gregarious Homebody is...

2010-08-05T12:10:00.001-04:00

Reading

Really good.

Like, let-everything-around-me-fall-to-pieces-while-I-read good.

Listening to

Read by a really fine narrator.

Even more sadistic than the movie.

Yikes.

Wearing

Always a sucker-for-packaging, I am now also apparently afflicted

with the marketing disease my friend Ray has:

picking paint by its color name.

This one: Iris I Was Thinner

Watching

I'm cringing a little while I watch because I'm positive {my Tony}

snickers about her upbeatness and cuteability.

Dreading

What the **** IS this?

Unfortunately in about a month I'll be able to let you know.

The Harvest

2010-08-02T19:16:00.003-04:00

The tomatoes are coming!
The tomatoes are coming!

I'm so excited. Tonight's dinner, with the exception of the pasta, the olive oil and the salt, came from my garden! I love that. The basil plants have been bursting and the tomato plants have had a crap-load of green ones for awhile but tonight I could finally pick a few and a cucumber. *Squeal!*

Behold, the mighty harvest:

Okay, so it's not exactly "mighty" but any gardener will tell you that the first of anything is downright thrilling. Especially for the novice gardener who not only cannot remember what the heirloom tomatoes are called that she is growing but is also still astounded that seeds grow into what is usually bought in the supermarket. Amazing.

So this is what I made:

No, that's not *skin on top of the gnocchi...it's shaved parmesan

It's practically a non-recipe but here's what I did anyway:

Gnocchi Pomodoro

1 tablespoon olive oil

2 cloves minced garlic

a huge handful of fresh basil, chiffonade-style

2 large tomatoes, chunked

Salt and pepper

Gnocchi that has been boiled in salted water and is about to float to the top

Saute the garlic slowly over medium heat until good-smelling. Add tomatoes and bring to a simmer. Simmer until the release a good amount of juice and then add basil. Simmer for awhile until very mushy. Puree in a blender if your annoying children refuse tomato chunks. Season with salt and pepper. (I would also add a dash of crushed red pepper if said children were not eating with us).

Add cooked gnocchi to the mix, letting it simmer awhile together.

Add some cold cooked chopped broccoli from last night's dinner to add some more veg.

Then, to top it all off, use a vegetable peeler to shave some parm from the hunk.

And stuff is really growing. I got my cucumbers planted (from seed) pretty late but it looks like I'm probably going to have to make some {refrigerator pickles} so none go to waste. And those cucumbers are DELICIOUS. So delicious in fact that I didn't adorn them with anything even though I usually make a nice vinegary cucumber salad. They were delicious plain, right off the vine (although I did peel them because those suckers are SPIKY).

But that's not all. I made something else delicious that I hesitated to post because NOTHING came from my garden to make it (although the raspberries were from Judy's--thanks, Jud!). But this is so yummy and (bonus!) pretty, that I feel it is a public service to spread the word.

from Domesticali

See? Pretty!

The recipe is not my own. I got it {here} so I invite you to pop over to get it. Even though it makes something really refreshing for summer drinking, I think it's so pretty that I'll probably make some bottles to give for holiday gifts. And, when added to seltzer, it makes this:

refreshing, delicious, and pretty!

The only change I will make next time I make it (and there will be a next time!) is that I think I'm going to add more lemon and bring it to a boil on the stove and then let it steep like Ali says to. I think I'd like to get more flavor out of the lemon and ginger. Other than that, it's perfect for a hot sticky day after you've just weeded the goddamn thistles in your vegetable garden and want to sit back and enjoy the bounty that is yours. Awesome.

*Yeah, The Girl asked if the carefully shaved cheese was skin. The boy asked if it was a carefully-placed piece of paper towel. Nice.

Mr. Romance Gets a Bug

2010-07-30T19:45:00.005-04:00

Not my son...although IT COULD BE

After walking around like a snot factory for a few days, with a fever for a few more days, and then finally saying that it hurt to eat. HH took [the boy (aka, Mr. Romance)] to the doctor today. He has [MONO]!! Now, when I was a teenager (I can hear a collective snoring of all present teenagers when I say this), mono was commonly called [The Kissing Disease] and that,combined with the fact that people I "knew" who had it stayed home from school for months, made me want to get this disease. It was a disease that CAME FROM KISSING and made you MISS SCHOOL. How much better does it get than that?

Well, while it's possible that the boy could have contracted this virus from kissing--because in addition to being King of the Video Game Nerds, he also also a stud (shiver)--it turns out that not only is the kissing thing a fallacy, but there also is no reason to quarantine anyone with the virus past 48 hours of being on an antibiotic (which I thought wasn't any help for a virus, but whatever). How long someone stays home and away from society convalescing is dependent on (shocking!) how crappy or noncrappy they feel.

So, hopefully for everyone concerned (a bored 14 year old is NOT FUN FOR ANYONE), he will be feeling better by Monday and ready to hang with his nerdy buds and plot his next girlfriend move.

This, my friends, is not just a public service announcement about The Truth About Mono, helpful as it surely is. This is actually the chance to show you THIS...(click my cool new "read more" widget)

Also not my son. But it REALLY could be.

Seriously, HOW GROSS IS THAT???!!!

I am usually a huge fan of pus and other gnarly bodily nastiness but WOW. And it explains why his voice sound like he's speaking through a wet towel in his throat. This photo came from some haphazard googling and I advice you not to look for this yourself because THIS is not as gross as other photos of a mono throat I found.

And I'm someone who enjoys a [good hairy tumor].

Let's GO

2010-07-25T17:03:00.009-04:00

I am a confused person. I loooooooooooove being at home (read the name of this blog--it's true!). I revel in having my stuff all around me. My comfy couch is by favorite place in the world. And nothing makes me happier than when a plan to (gasp!) go somewhere gets cancelled. For the most part, I like my people to come to me. But I also long to travel to places that are decidedly different than my home with an ache inside that feels very real. I want to see how other people live. I want to eat with them and talk with them about their families. I want to GO.

In short, I want to be [Anthony Bourdain].

I started traveling at a young age when I was lucky enough to be best friends with a girl who was an only child and who also traveled every summer with her mom and godmother in a de-lux motor home. Because she was an only child, her mother thought it would be much more fun for her to have a friend along. ME!

So, three summers in a row I traveled for the better part of a month with them. Across the US to California. Up New England and down South. It was awesome. I did go through bouts of homesickness (one time calling my mom from a pay phone in South Dakota and snotting myself crying so much I threw up) but mostly I loved it. I was seven years old when I started traveling with them and I still remember so much. Remembering the traveling was almost as fun as the traveling itself. And no American kid should get to grown-up age without seeing the [Corn Palace] or the Badlands. This country is awesome.

That, on the outside of the building, is corn. I shit you not.

Now I want to travel abroad. I've been to Europe once, on a whirlwind trip in high school (5 countries in 9 days!), but it was only a taste. A tease, really. Standing on the street in [Verona, Italy] I thought oh yeah. I could get used to this place, this feeling of being foreign and interested and excited about everything around me.

There is almost no place I don't want to go. Of course I'd like to hit the hot spots like Paris or London. I would love that. But I'd also like to go off the beaten path. To go to places where food is cooked over a fire or cars are a luxury. I want to really get a feeling for where I am with the people who live there.

Okay, maybe not here. Yeah, I think I could do without a jungle experience because the idea that something alive could drop off of something above me onto me is waaaay too freaky.

That, my friends, is Madagasca TREE boa. That hangs in trees. *shiver*

But here. YES. I would love to go [here].

Is it Russia or is it China? It's more like BOTH. Feast your eyes on Harbin, China.

Or [here...]

Or, holy crap, [HERE!]

In my fantasies I have a [fixer] like Tony or [Ewan] do on their adventures. A fixer would make the most foreign places a teensy less scary simply because he/she would know the local language and be able to speak to me in English. Tell me which meat-on-a-stick in Harbin, China is the chicken and which is the ["baby butterfly."] Paying for a fixer would be money well spent.

But I'm not going to let not having a fixer stop me from going. My husband can talk to ANYONE. I'm hoping that his talent for gabbing and mine for making-the-most-of-it will translate to good traveling when these damn kids move out. And the we'll come home to talk about it.

Completely Gratuitous

2010-07-22T16:47:00.004-04:00

I'm stealing the title of this post from [this guy] because it says it all. Did I need to buy some way cool markers for my chalkboard wall? No. Was there a rational reason I couldn't use Actual Chalk even though it made [grody] dust and didn't look "perfect"? Of course not. Did they make me a teensy bit happier in this, [The Second Summer of Sad]?

You bet.

It's hard to tell but the tea green in the **[Earthy Colors pack]
that I picked matches my kitchen wall perfectly.

*swoon!*

love that!!

thanks for the tip, [Finny]!

**I found out about these from Finny, but I found them online for a bit cheaper than she did. Click the Earthy Colors link above--first time buyers get free shipping! Now you have to buy them.

Things that Made Me Happy Today

2010-07-14T19:51:00.000-04:00

seeing these dimples

(thanks, {Mel!})

being allowed to kiss the cheek of the boy in the middle

being given a spontaneous hug by this girl

and baking this pie just because.

2010-07-08T08:03:00.007-04:00

At our house we encourage rough play.

late {planting}

We like to start out each Father's Day by filling his arteries

with bacon fat and butter.

Krispie Treats with {blue stars and green clovers} (etc.)
and the

{Best brownies EVER}

As Judy said, "Adorable, but I feel as though I can smell them from here."

Impressed. And exhausted just watching.

Yes, I've taken two pictures of meat. I'm a simple girl.

I love stockin' up.

4th of July tradition

Hello

2010-07-04T23:52:00.000-04:00

I know, I know...they're {painted on}.

I know, I know...{I'm 40}.

Whatever.

Maybe for Next Father's Day?

2010-06-20T22:13:00.002-04:00

Oh, {etsy} ...why??!!

I Obviously Have a Problem with Commitment

2010-06-19T21:44:00.006-04:00

I really had the best of intentions in starting this 365 project. Really. And then, in the middle of life being awesome, {life got sucky again}. And, feeling sorry for myself, I didn't take pictures. Or clean. Or do anything much at all. And then I shook myself off and kicked myself in the ass.

So, not having much to say really (right now at this moment), here are some pictures that I did take.

poppies are cool. and somewhat like {alien pods}.

really blackened chicken. good thing HH likes carcinogens with his protein.

less freaky poppy form. so beautiful and heart-breakingly short-lived

I know, I know. those ****ing eggs again. but they're so beautiful.

brownie batter. enough said.

when a recipe says "to stiff peaks," this is what is meant.
you're welcome.

cuban black bean ingredients with {dukka}. damn good.

graduating 8th grader being humiliated by his mom.
again.

{garlic scapes} which I used to make an utterly vile pesto.

note to self: always cook garlic scapes.

my favorite dutch american. also known unfairly as "poor Pat"

steve did not love {these}. I didn't care (more for me!)

Ruth was right.

a neat edge makes even the weediest garden look neater.

roses from my garden (thanks, Ray!) and lavender too

"what? I wasn't supposed to eat that tampon?"

I love the concept of {volunteer plants}.

imagine this lovely saying "oh! Oh! I'll grow there!"

and then being expected to keep coming back.

yeah, I know these were already pictured but I froze the base

(sans tequila) for another day and defrosted just until slushy.

this is two servings (hahahahahahahahaha)

2010-05-21T10:02:00.002-04:00

Remembering {the Alamo},

{sealing the deal},

this is how humid it is in Texas,

all travelers should be this cute,

it's already come to {this},

Gigi,

and one unhappy pirate.

Brown-Eyed Boy

2010-05-19T12:55:00.003-04:00

This is a picture of the first baby I ever saw,

live and up close, come into the world.

It's a day I'll never forget.

I was 16 years old and his mom was living with us

because his dad (my brother) was in the Navy and overseas somewhere.

I got to see first-hand how her stomach grew, how much she anticipated

this little life that would forever change hers.

I can remember being in school towards the end of her pregnancy and thinking

Is this the day?

Will I meet my nephew or niece today?

The plan was for my mom to be her coach.

I was just along for the ride because I asked to be

and because my sister-in-law is such a nice person.

I think now about how alone she must have felt.

How her baby's daddy was so far away

and she was far away from her own family.

She felt like the sister I always wanted,

living with me, sharing my life.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After sitting around the hospital for awhile

(a day off from school-bonus!!)

the time was finally here.

We suited up in scrubs and hair covers.

My sister-in-law was so tired and I realize now, scared.

We gathered around her in the delivery room, trying to comfort and encourage her.

At least that's what I was trying to do. I think I was scared at this point too.

Her doctor was so kind, encouraging her and comforting her.

He took a look at me, useless and nervous, and said,

"Why don't you come and have a seat by me?"

For as long as I live I will never forget seeing the his little dark curl of hair.

"What's that?" I asked.

"The baby's head," the doctor replied.

I burst into tears and so did everyone else in the delivery room---

jaded, seen-it-all nurses,

my mom,

the doctor,

and of course, my sister-in-law.

A few months later with that little baby in a stroller with me at the mall,

I told everyone who stopped to admire him
that he was mine.

----------------------------------------------------------------

This is a picture of that baby

with his wife.

That is something to give one pause.

The girl and I spent a long weekend in San Antonio

so we could go to his wedding.

It was beautiful--beautiful bride, beautiful setting, her beautiful family...

and one very very nervous groom.

At first I didn't understand, exactly.

Everything went well.

Nothing went wrong.

The vows were said, the music played.

He was married to the girl he loved

and he was still so nervous.

Have I mentioned that this "boy" is a Marine

and just graduated from

demolition school?

I think what happened is that everything finally hit him:

He no longer lives for himself.

He's got someone expecting things of him,

counting on him,

and supporting him too.

That's pretty daunting even without the pending tour of duty in Afghanistan.

He's only 24 years old but he's had a challenging life.

I wish I'd been there for him more and I tried to be

but I was busy building my own life.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Here's what I know about him:

He is smart.

He is dedicated.

He is kind.

Here's what I wish for him:

That he has stability.

That he has support.

That he has joy.

That he is safe.

That he has a family.

I can't wait to get to know him as the man he has become.

2010-05-18T13:56:00.000-04:00

ravenous pooch eating around a {rocky obstacle},

one of the advantages of working from home

(wearing your grossest/favoritest sweatshirt),

delicious Mother's Day dinner,

modern boy leaving for his silversmithing job,

finding {my own amusements} at my kid's spring concert

2010-05-18T13:22:00.001-04:00

retired Amish horse from {my favorite farm}, Mint Madness from {my favorite local shop}

Ginger under cover, my favorite professor at my last class of my first year (yes, that's a bar), smiling pooch and smiling neighbor, purple and green asparagus

2010-05-11T08:55:00.000-04:00

from {here}

Sitting at the Computer with a Credit Card Next to You is DANGEROUS

2010-05-05T12:44:00.001-04:00

Want...

From my new favorite {online store}

Finally bought...

from {here}

It's Been Way Too Long

2010-04-30T10:40:00.005-04:00

{I feel like I'm going to barf.}

It Must be Wednesday

2010-04-28T09:43:00.001-04:00

My most-willing model, {poppyseed cake with blueberry glaze}, Bantam egg, {a great example of why I changed careers}, a day missing because it was spent in bed in a Nyquil coma, the M-Man, and why this isn't a home decor blog

Too Busy to Picnik

2010-04-21T20:42:00.001-04:00

Too much stuff going on

(hello! 40 year old taking her first final exam in 18 years!!)

to {fancify} these pictures with dates.

At least I took them!

{Handsome colleague} who always makes me smile, getting the day's picture in under the wire (driving on a country road at almost midnight and taking pictures inside car not recommended), the aftermath of a clean house, {homemade vanilla extract} made with Ruth Parr's bourbon, flowers my mom loved that I can never remember the name of, awesome swap booty (thanks, {Yvette}!), and evidence of book learnin' (old school style)

2010-04-17T09:23:00.000-04:00

365

2010-04-14T12:57:00.002-04:00

Summer shoes, {PB&J bread}, sparkly lights, a funny face, key lime marshmallows, {a fruity libation}, nature's beauty, and today's {ducky} breakfast.

Creative but not Original

2010-04-07T21:14:00.003-04:00

I have often used the title of this post to describe myself because it's true. I often pull off something totally creative that makes even me say "wow. pretty nice." The thing is, 95% of the time, the idea behind the piece of creativity isn't mine. I'm a fantastic copier.

So,in keeping with my own tradition, I'm jumping on the {365 photos} bandwagon. I've looked at a lot of other {people's} and I thought that my {40th year} was an appropriate one to chronicle. I use {my camera} a lot (because it's FABULOUS. Thanks, honey!) but this will "force" me to use it *every day. I like the mundane--in fact, I often revel in it. I think it'll be cool to look back and see what April 2 or Sept 4 looked like not because it was a special day but because all days are pretty awesome.

So, here's my first week's installment. The pictures themselves may not be a feat of photographic excellence. They're just stuff that struck me that day, at that minute, as cool.

Don't judge me.

*Because you are a genius, you probably noticed that I skipped a day. The first week. Yep.
Oh well.

Officially Obsessed

2010-04-06T23:18:00.003-04:00

I have been marshmallow crazy for a couple months now, on and off. A weird thing to be obsessed about, I know, but they're so satisfying. I love the process of baking something but let's face it, with cakes and such there's a lot of waiting around. With marshmallows, you soften some gelatin, boil some sugar syrup, mix them together until it magically turns into white fluff and pour into a pan. And that's it!

True, you have to wait a little while to cut them but there is the bowl licking. And you don't have to do anything else to them if you don't want to. And they're fat free (if that's important to you). And they're so surprising. I offer them to people at work and they're all "No thank you. I don't really like marshmallows." Then I say confidently, "You've never had these marshmallows." Watching them take a bite into something so different from the bagged stuff is extremely satisfying.

I'm also finding that they're extremely versatile. So far, I've made plain vanilla, chocolate, mocha, pumpkin, and the new favorite, raspberry. Tomorrow I'm trying some lime ones. For the fruit flavors, all you have to do is substitute the fruit puree or juice for the water in the first part of the recipe. It's that simple. And WOW were those raspberry ones good. REAL raspberry flavor. And even though they are sweet (they're mostly sugar after all), the fresh raspberry flavor helped them from being too cloying. Same with the pumpkin. I'm thinking the lime ones will be perfection.

This is like a cup of liquid Summer.

(thanks to frozen berries from Judy's garden last year. Thanks, Jud!)

This is 1 cup because I doubled the recipe.

So here's the recipe I'm using right now, which is my own version of {Martha's}. Say what you will about my girl...but you can't deny she's the queen of taking some really basic favorites and making them sublime by using great ingredients and---this is the key---making them at home.

Homemade marshmallows

--makes about 40

2 1/2 tablespoons unflavored gelatin

1 1/2 cups sugar

1 cup light corn syrup

1/4 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons vanilla

Confectioners' sugar

Combine gelatin and 1/2 cup cold water in bowl of electric mixer with whisk attachment.

Combine sugar, corn syrup, salt, and another 1/2 cup water in a heavy saucepan. Place over medium heat and stir to dissolve sugar crystals. If you have a candy thermometer, clip it on the side of the pan and turn heat up to high.

Cook the syrup until it reaches 244 degrees. If you don't have a candy thermometer, just bring to a boil after the sugar dissolves and let it boil violently for 1-2 minutes.

Next, take it off the heat. Turn your mixer on low and carefully pour syrup into the softened gelatin. Turn the speed to high when you've added it all and continue beating until very white and thick, about 10-15 minutes, depending on your mixer.

Now, it's time to spread it into a 9x13 glass casserole that has been sprayed with cooking spray. I cannot stress this enough. Martha says to dust the pan with confectioners' sugar. Other recipes (that shall remain nameless) tell you to spray the pan, line it with parchment, and then pour the marshmallow in. MADNESS. This, below, is the sadness that happens when you follow those stupid plans:

You end up throwing it away because

it is never, ever coming out of the pan.

Ever.

Really.

Use the cooking spray.

So now comes the waiting. Martha says you have to let it sit overnight to let it dry out. I say who can wait that long?? I let it dry, uncovered for a couple hours and then dump the pan out onto a surface that has been well-dusted with confectioners' sugar.

Then you take your longest knife and cut it into squares. This is a pain, but if you spray your knife a couple times in between with Pam (after wiping off the stickies each time), it's pretty painless. FINALLY, I dust each marshmallow in some confectioners' sugar and then pat each one like it's a baby's butt to take the excess sugar off.

Stored in an airtight container, these suckers stay fresh for weeks. Bonus!

Now here are the variations:

Substitute pumpkin or any other fruit puree or juice for the 1/2 cup of water used to soften the gelatin. That's it!

And it's fun to dip some in melted chocolate. I'm going to try dipping lime marshmallows in white chocolate and then in ground up graham crackers or toasted coconut--a key lime pie marshmallow!

Have fun!

2010-03-29T09:28:00.002-04:00

Reading blogs is a real personal pleasure for me. I've always been something of a voyeur....I even considered becoming a real estate agent because I love to see into people's lives, to be inside their homes and see how they live. Reading blogs, especially the ones I have categorized in my bookmarks in a folder called "Home," has satisfied that voyeuristic need while also making me feel like I know those bloggers a little bit. I've even become friends with some of them.

It was with great sadness that I read on The Women's Room about the death of a blogger who I've enjoyed for sometime now. Elspeth Thompson wrote about life in a renovated train car, about sustainability, her family, and her dogs. So simple, so beautifully done. However, that small glimpse into her life didn't reveal the deep sadness she suffered from. My heart goes out to her family and especially her child.

DC

2010-03-23T14:45:00.008-04:00

Ended a verrrrrrry busy week with a trip to DC as a chaperone for KU (Yes, a chaperone. For college students. Adults. Whatever...it was free). The Girl and I went since {Mr. Romance} (aka The Boy) has been there before. What we found there was lots and lots of this:

And this:

It was a SEA of humanity. Wow. Now I know it was 70+ degrees and beautiful for the first time in a long time but sheesh. At one point, on the subway, we were so packed in that I had to tuck my butt in so the doors would close. I of course made the obligatory fat-ass joke about myself and then the door kept reopening. So THEN I had to say out loud that my ass wasn't

THAT BIG.

The Girl was thrilled with me at this point. See?

Just kidding. She was actually thinking I was funny (priceless! doesn't happen much anymore!!) at that point. This picture is from the end of our trip. When the blisters were huge and juicy and painful.

So anyway, we didn't really get to see much of Washington because (who knew?) six hours is not enough to see anything. Here's what we did see:

A pretty decent Lebanese restaurant with Mezze for two. FYI: french fries are delicious dipped in baba ganouj or {lebne}.

At the National Zoo, we saw either a giant stuffed animal...or a man in a Panda suit.

The weirdest animal was not what you would expect. It's called a Maned Wolf and this shitty picture does not properly illustrate its weirdness:

The Girl and I have cleverly renamed it The Wox because it looks like a cross between a wolf and...wait for it...a fox (so clever!). Its legs are LONG and its head is small and fox-like. Sort of the {Beetlejuice} of the wild canine world. Check {this picture} to see a better likeness.

After that we climbed onto the subway again. Again, crowded, but really really clean and pretty friendly. We headed toward the American History museum. All I wanted to see was Julia Child's kitchen (I'm a woman of simple needs). All The Girl wanted to do was rip off her sneakers and find a couch somewhere with a tivo. But we soldiered on and saw this sculpture on the way there:

I want it for my 40th birthday for my back yard. I'm not kidding. I'll even make a deal with HH: he can have the Easter Island heads if I can have this.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

So we finally got to the American History museum and saw Julia's kitchen (see masthead), a very cool exhibit of First Ladies' gowns (I appreciate Barbara Bush more now that I see she was the only woman who was built anywhere near like a grown-up), and a whole room about Abraham Lincoln. THAT was neat. The older I get the more I appreciate archival stuff. I could've hung out in this room for an hour or more, just reading. But The Girl was

DONE.

Blisters had made their appearance known. And that was totally okay with me. I think I enjoyed just being with her somewhere other than at home as much as I enjoyed touring DC.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Pictures not taken:

Guy with health reform protest sign that read "Comrad Pelosi"...blahblahblah. Dude, if you're going to take the time to come down to Washington and protest, make sure you know how to spell what you're so passionate about.
Pedicab guy peddling his skinny legs off with me in the back. I paid him $20 to go 10 blocks and to never speak of it again.
Me, sleeping almost all the way down and back, occasionally waking myself up by either a) snoring, b) farting or c) making the HUH! sound I make when I'm falling asleep. Thanks, M, for not taking pictures. And I'm deeply sorry.

The Proof...

2010-03-22T00:28:00.002-04:00

...that something as dangerous as cleaning
should be left to professionals.

Swap Time Again!

2010-03-15T17:08:00.000-04:00

Go to {adozeneggs} to get in on the Sweet Spring Swap!