Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Cherish Every Moment


Who knew loving a child was so bittersweet? Oh, right--all the other parents in the world. All those people who told me to "cherish every moment--it goes so fast."

I'll admit it. I was annoyed by this advice. I wanted to say that my child's life is not a movie from which I cannot get up to go to the bathroom for fear I might miss the best part. I felt so much guilt and pressure and was so tired and overwhelmed that to expect one more thing of myself just seemed like overkill. Anyway, you can't make yourself cherish anything. I imagined myself staring bug-eyed at another poopy explosion, "taking it all in", cherishing every cheesy, yellow smear. 

I fell head-over-heels in love with my newborn. He was wee, too small even for his newborn clothes and hats, and barely peered out of his swollen red eyes. He spent most of his time curled in a little ball in my arms or on my chest, sleeping, sucking, perhaps feebly trying to lift and turn his head. I held him for hours upon hours. 

He grew and he changed. Soon he could lift his head a little, and kicked and squirmed a little faster and with more force. Nursing was his happy place, and he would nurse with eyes closed, so close to me. I called him my "bugaboo". I loved that Bugaboo so much. 

He grew and he changed. He loved to move, to stand (with help). He started smiling, a sly tiny smile that grew into a toothless, tongue-filled grin. He could sit--sort of, doubled over at the stomach in a way that seemed the opposite of comfortable. He became a pro at rolling over. I loved my strong boy. 

Now he's six months old. He's so different than he was at any of these other ages. I love my smart, fun, energetic baby boy. Nursing is often more of a wrestling match from which I emerge scratched, pinched, and with aching arms. He only nurses well anymore when he is sleepy. Any other time he sucks distractedly, dying to get back to exploring the world, which fascinates him. He fully interacts with me now, holding little "conversations". I'm almost positive he's trying to say mama. Just today, clear as a bell he gave me a distinct "ah-ah". No consonants yet, stay tuned. Co-sleeping is a thing of the past. The minute he realizes I'm next to him he wants to wake up and play or chatter. He thinks the dog is hilarious and giggles anytime I say "woof". I love him so much. 

He's not the same baby he was. I fell in love with a newborn, and that newborn is gone--forever, just as if he's dead. I fell in love with a two-month-old; he's gone too. And this phase, this sweet six-month-old baby? He'll be gone too; I'll have a new person to love, but he won't be the same. 

So now every night as a soothe him to sleep, I mourn the passing of another day. 

Friday, July 4, 2014

So How's Married Life?

It's probably more a polite question than a real interest--but I'm always stumped by this question.  I usually say, "It's great!" which, well, it is, but in a quiet way, not in a way that I run around the town telling people about. After I say "It's great" I don't have much else to say, so I usually just say it again in different ways, "we're doing really well," "it's going really well, it really is..." and other fluff and nonsense.

I haven't updated my blog in about a year, which coincides with my getting a job (that's my excuse: gainful employment that makes the world a better place). My phone, however, which I use to take pictures for my blog, is full of photos taken for that purpose--and in going through them I realize just how great married life has been. Here's the run-down, with pictures. :)

We went on a honeymoon to New Orleans
We ate Beignets.



We cooked Cajun food.

And enjoyed Carnival season...

We settled down to the business of being married.
And we cooked... a lot. This is one of the best creations: chicken and dumplings to die for. 
\
I picked out a surprise 25th birthday present. This is his butt.

 He was totally adorable and really destructive. 
We gave him a name that no one could pronounce or remember. (It's Thaxted) 





Winter FINALLY thawed and the hope of Spring and a garden (with abnormally large earthworms) beckoned.
and learned the importance of peanut butter.
I ran a half marathon...




We cooked out a lot 
because we were remodeling the kitchen. 

 I dyed my hair really blond and made a baby quilt. 


 We had several mishaps, including locking ourselves out of the house and buying a fridge too big to fit through the door.

 The garden thrived. 

Thaxted had that surgery that forever deprived the world of his offspring. 

 He looked really cute in a cone...

 Summer flowers are now in bloom...


And peaches have arrived from Georgia. All is well. 

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Very Berry Pie


Very Berry Pie
Triple Berry, Quadruple Berry, Blackberry, Blueberry--it doesn't matter, Very Berry Pie is delicious.   I see no reason to make a fuss over the sort of berries used (although I'm very picky about what sort of apples I use in that kind of pie so perhaps I ought to be more discriminating).  Pie is something I am pretty good at.  Well, maybe that's an overstatement.  I make a mean crust and the best apple pie you will ever taste.  But that's as far as my pie-making goes.  I've made Very Berry Pies before, but it was a long time ago and I don't remember what recipe I used.  Maybe it was magic, but if it was, it went undocumented and I could never make it again.

Defrosting berries--blackberries, raspberries, blueberries,
strawberries, and cherries. 
So basically, I'm starting this Berry Pie process from scratch.  I'm hampered by the seven-months-till our wedding mark, as well as I-wanna-be-healthy-thing.  Which is not to say I can't make pie; it just means I can't make eight of them, testing different recipes to find the perfect one.  I just need to do my research and really know what I want.

1) I want to use frozen berries.  I'm not using top-notch fresh berries in a pie when I could just eat them with a little cream or straight off the bush.  Yes, I know it's a noble cause, but fresh is fresh and summer only comes once a year.  And I'd rather use frozen berries picked at their peak (hopefully) than travel-weary strawberries from California in February any day.

2) I was a recipe light on the sugar.  This is not purely for my health's sake, but simply because vast quantities of sugar is not delicious by itself.  There's a reason nobody just takes a spoon and eats pure sugar (nobody I know, anyway).  You can't make something delicious by pumping it full of sugar, and in a situation like this where the flavors are tart and complex, sugar is only going to mask those flavors without really adding much.

Egg wash and sugar sprinkle. 
3) I want a non-soupy pie.  There's nothing worse (and it's happened to me more times than not) than a pie that runs around the dish and ruins a beautiful crust and slides and slops off your server.  It looks bad, it feels bad.  Many a pie is pulled from the oven, bubbling gently, and set aside to cool in an agony of suspense--will it set? Is it thick enough? Is it too thick? Too thick is a possibility, after all.  We don't want a rubbery pie, either.  And finally...


4) I want a kick of something extra.  This is where my research really comes in.  I'm not sure what the extra thing should be.  Some people add cinnamon.  Some add lemon juice.  Some add lemon juice and lemon zest.  What if I added vanilla?  Or some other extract?  Almond extract?

I scoured the internet for recipes.  Each one claimed to be more delicious than the last--but that that "something extra" is what I was really looking for--I wanted to set my pie apart from just sugar and berries (don't get me wrong, berries and sugar are
delicious, but not very memorable).  I finally settled on this recipe from Saveur.  I've cooked from Saveur's recipes quite a bit, and they tend to be fairly solid, if not always quite my palate.  It promised to have character.

Perfection.
Isn't she a beauty?  I'm taking her to a party, so it's important to have presentation.  I'm very pleased with the result, although I will do a couple of things differently next time.  I'll try slashing the sugar a 1/4 cup more.  This was just a touch too sweet.  And I will stay my hand where the nutmeg is concerned.  I didn't have fresh nutmeg to grate so I just used a dash... and then, without any wisdom whatsoever, added a second dash.  It's a bit nutmeggy.  Good, but nutmeggy.  Which isn't really what I wanted.  I wanted a slight earthiness, and a wistful wondering of what that "something extra" might be... not flavor that clubbed you over the head with NUTMEGNESS!!



It was a good night in the kitchen.  Whilst I created pie, my fiance created tacos, and I made my pico de gallo.  I've had a love-hate relationship with this dish.  It's one (the only one?) I don't use a recipe for, and it hasn't turned out too brilliantly the last few times, mostly because the jalapenos I have bought were not spicy enough.  I took matters into my own hands this time.  I bought four, sliced them all open, and sampled each.  Two could have been bell peppers they were so mild.  A third was pleasantly spicy and I ended up using that.  The fourth pepper was really spicy.

Mikey took this picture.  He wanted to help for my blog. 
Also this picture.  It's called "Spatula in Motion." 

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Spring! and rhubarb compote

testing out the fancy camera on Aussie.
The saying "April showers bring May flowers" never made much sense to me.  There are flowers in Texas in glorious abundance--they carpet the sides of the roads in red and blue--but they bloom in March and in April, not in May.  Here in Indiana actually many flowers--daffodils and tulips, mostly--are blooming, amongst torrential rains.  All I can say is, May flowers better come.  There better be a flipping conservatory.  I biked home in the rain today to find my taxes returned for insufficient postage (WHAT?!).  It was most distressing having to go to the post office with little rivers running down my face.

Spring means that all sorts of wonderful things are available locally--such as rhubarb.  Rhubarb is a bit like a red large stalk of celery--except that instead of spicy, it is sour.  Very sour, in fact, but a good kind of sour, like candies that are sour.  It makes excellent pies and crumbles and things of that sort and is usually mixed with blueberries or strawberries.

I was not, however, in a tolerant mood for strawberries.  I wanted rhubarb and only rhubarb, pure, unadulterated.  My first plan was to make a rhubarb pie, with no fussiness or add-ons.  I ran into a snag when I realized that rhubarb-only pies are very high in sugar. Like 2 cups of sugar plus more for the top kind of high.  I'm not totally against using that much sugar in a recipe, but I like to save those kinds of diabetic-bombs for special occasions like birthdays and graduations and there's NO WAY I'm making rhubarb pie for someone's birthday.  So that idea went the way of all flesh.




Rhubarb compote, however, was an intriguing idea, and it only called for half a cup of sugar for four cups of rhubarb.  It's wonderfully easy, and the result is delicious.

First you prepare your rhubarb; chop off the yucky bottom and pull away the outer layer of long fibers, almost like peeling.  Then roughly chop the rhubarb and put in a saucepan.  Mix in half a cup of sugar and let it sit for fifteen minutes or so, until the moisture is seeping from the rhubarb.  Bring to a simmer over medium-high heat (more juice will collect as you heat the rhubarb).  Reduce to low, cover, and simmer for another fifteen minutes, stirring occasionally.  It will thicken slightly.  Chill for at least 2 hours.






Great.  Delicious.  Now what?  Well, I imagine you can put it on toast--this morning I put it in my yogurt, along with raw oatmeal, a little honey, and flax seed.  Yum!



I also made some progress on my 150 Saveur recipe challenge, if you will.  Truth be told, I wasn't too excited about Spaghetti Alla Primavera.  I've changed my mind.  My friends, this recipe is so provocative.  It's as if the vegetables lie on a soft white bed of cream and pasta and say, "Come! Eat me up."

Okay, so maybe I'm getting carried away.


The only issue is that you must actually like vegetables.  The great thing is that even though I made this somewhat distractedly and in a great hurry, all the vegetables were cooked perfectly.  And by perfectly I mean just enough to release their juices and flavor and turn gorgeous colors without leeching out texture and vitamins.  I skipped the spaghetti and went for penne instead because as my fiancé says, spaghetti is a pain.  It's slippery, floppy stuff that slides off your fork and down into your lap.  As a child I loved it, but now I put aside childish things: it's all about the penne, man.  Besides, it's easier and more satisfying to cook penne al dente.  Also, I left out the peas.  I don't really like peas, for starters, and also I thought I had peas in the freezer but it turns out that was a bag of corn.  I think I'll leave them out again next time too.  Also, I didn't use asparagus tips.  I used five whole spears instead.  Why waste the rest of the asparagus?  It doesn't make sense.






The only advice I have is to mind the cheese.  I was in a hurry, and dumped it all in at once before adding the cream, and instead of nicely coating everything in the pan it ended up in straggly, melted clumps throughout.  It was still delicious, of course, but not exactly what I wanted.  Next time I will either add the cream and let it get warm before sprinkling the cheese gradually over the whole dish, or warm the cream in a separate pan and make an honest-to-goodness white sauce to go over everything.

I hereby proclaim this my vegetarian company dish of choice.

vegetable seduction...

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Airport Happenings

1. Clothing envy... Also trying not to stare at epically misguided outfits. For example the bright blue onesie paired with orange felted fringe heels...
2. On a table in the food court: "This table has been sanitized." A staff member removes the sign seconds after I take my seat.
3. Playing chicken in airport "hallways"... Especially when your opponent looks homeless--but apparently can afford a plane ticket?
4. Family traveling to tropical location--in matching neon green t-shirts.
5. Coffee after catching an early flight... Mmmm...
6. Pointless novel that somehow managed to inspire Downton Abbey to pass the time.

Friday, April 5, 2013

Why Sew?

Sometimes people will say things like,  "It's so great that you know how to make your own clothes!  You can save so much money!"

HA!  Not true.  Okay, so it could be true--you can buy cheap fabrics and cheap patterns and make cheap clothes, but like everything else in life, they would be, well, what you paid for--fabrics that don't hold up, patterns that don't fit right or wash well, and they would, above all, look terribly, horribly homemade.  And that's not "homemade" in a good way, like "you-can't-believe-I-MADE-this" or "handcrafted" homemade, but that homemade that looks like you scooped up whatever out of the remnants bin and ran over it with your sewing machine a few times--it can be spotted miles away--"You made this, didn't you?"  Besides, Target really does sell very inexpensive clothes.  It's hard to beat the sale racks.

Mmm... just looking at this makes me sleepy.
So why sew?  Sometimes, you just can't get what you want anywhere for any price.  A case in point: I love bedclothes.  Nice bedclothes.  Currently I drift off to sleep every night blissfully beneath one of Anthropologie's duvet covers, which is made of cotton, but no less luxurious for all that.  I believe in luxurious bedcovers--you will "wear" your bedclothes more than any other thing you own--granted you're unconscious for a lot of that, but still.  Also, your bedclothes will determine the decor of your entire bedroom.

So my fiance and I have been working very, very hard on our registry.  My mom called and asked me what I wanted on it the most, and I was a bit baffled to reply.  "Well--all of it."  We've visited stores, looked online, read reviews, hunted and hunted for the perfect everything.  I stressed about it becuase I wanted to register as if I was spending my own hard-earned money.  I wanted only to register for things we would love and get really excited about recieving.  And if you think about the amount of time and effort that goes into purchasing one ktichen implement, well, it might not be much, but it is something.  (Silicone pastry brush or bristles?!)  Now mulitply that by about two hundred--there are a lot of decisions to be made.  I wanted to be 100% satisfied with ALL of them.

He's so cute I can hardly STAND it. 
Let's just say that the fiance is a saint.  He puts up with me.

And I drew the line on the bedclothes issue.  We hunted and hunted, and at every turn I wanted to know, "What's that made out of!?"

I demand natural fibers.  It could be linen, cotton, or silk, didn't matter to me--but there was one thing I could not permit: polyester.  And every. bedclothes. set. from. Ralph. Lauren. to. Martha. Stewart. is. made. with. 100%. polyester!!! Auuughhh!  I refused to give in.  I refuse to sleep with my new husband for the first time under thermoplastics!  "I'll just make one!"   I rashly declared, well aware that if I bought silk and linen, we were unlikely to save any money.

So back to the saving money issue.  He liked a pattern, I liked plain silk, and the colors complimented each other, so we decided to make the duvet reversible--have your cake and eat it too!  The silk I picked out, miraculously, was only 16.99 a yard.  At sixty inches wide (a queen duvet is 88 x 86) I would need five yards--so 85.95 for one side.  Mike picked out a beautiful linen pattern that was 26.99 a yard (ouch!).  That totaled up to 134.95 for a grand total of 220.90 . . .  Plus I wanted extra fabric for a bedskirt, pillows...



The trick with stores like Hobby Lobby and Jo-Ann (we bought our fabric at the latter) is never pay full price.  Jo-Ann home dec fabric was 40% off this week and I get their text coupons, so with an additional 15% from that, plus a pattern from McCalls for 10.99, the whole purchase rang up to just over 160$.  Score!



Perhaps I could have saved more and not bought a pattern.  After all, everything I wanted to make is basically giant squares.  But when you're cutting into 150 dollars worth of fabric, well, it's just nice to have someone or something to tell you that you're doing it right and not about to ruin your project.  I will update in forthcoming days to report on the progress of the Epic Duvet Cover.



One last thing: this apparently queen-sized down duvet is such a headache.  My wikipedia research tells me that it is actually NOT the proper size for a queen-size duvet.  It's actually the size of a full flat sheet--which is larger than a queen size duvet--considerably longer, presumably to tuck under the mattress.  I decided I would just make a normal-sized duvet and just make it fit.  It'll be extra-fluffy.

In other news, we celebrated a birthday with a made-from-scratch cake: devil's food with a raspberry filling.  I'm not much of a cake-baker; this was my first ever from scratch.  I give it about a B, I suppose.  I didn't care for the texture--it was very dense, not light and spongy and moist like I wanted.  BUT I'm already planning a graduation masterpiece, so stay tuned!

I forget what it's called, Murphy's Law or
Ockeghem's Razor: it says that cake batter
is always more delicious than
the finished product.
I'm afraid this was true. 
Slathered in devil's food icing
and topped with fresh raspberries. 
























I saw this driving home the other day:  FUCHSIA LIMO!!!