pickle pickle

I made pickles yesterday!

I also made pickles on Monday, but I’m going to tell you about the time yesterday, because it was momentous.

I’ve been doing canning projects with my mom for a few summers now. She’s the real expert – I’m still learning. Actually, I hadn’t made pickles all by myself before this week. (!)

Something scary about a HUGE pot of boiling water, and dropping things into it.

Anyway. My mom is out of town this week, and my garden is producing a lot of cucumbers. Way more than Joshua and I can eat by ourselves. Because I now have a photo on my iPhone of my mom’s incredible bread & butter pickle recipe, I decided to make pickles all by myself.

So I went over to my mom’s house and stole all of her canning supplies, because I really don’t have any. I went out and bought my own jars, and I used all cucumbers from my own garden. About 5 pounds of them! It was incredible!

Everything worked just the way it was supposed to. I did make a bit of a mess doing it, but sometimes that’s part of the fun. Most importantly, none of the jars broke and ALL of them sealed! So now I have six jars of pickles that were made all by myself with cucumbers from my own garden!

This really feels like a rite-of-passage. I’m all grown up! 🙂

 

P.S. – I returned all the canning supplies, washed and dried. If my mom wasn’t an avid reader of my blog, she would probably never have known.

deer me

Joshua and I were honored to be invited to dinner at an older couple’s house this past week. I say “older” in the most respectful way possible, basically just to indicate that they are two generations ahead of us.

One of the primary reasons we were there was to enjoy what we might call “hand-shot” venison, like we would reference tomatoes from the backyard garden as being “homegrown” and sweaters as “handmade.” You know – Mike went out to the 54 acres he leases and shot the deer himself. And then lugged it by himself back to his gargantuan pickup truck. While he is completely capable of processing the deer himself, as well, he chooses to outsource that to a mom-and-son (?!) team in the area.

Isn’t that SO cool?

I mean, even if you’re not into the whole hunting scene, the idea of being able to do all of this is mind-blowing.

The venison steaks Mike and Mary Anne prepared for us were also delightful. I could definitely get into venison.

By the way (and this is kind of an aside), but did anyone other than my family grow up reading that children’s book, Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel? And isn’t it HILARIOUS that the steam shovel’s name is Mary Anne?! Even more so because this Mike, that we visited, is definitely the same kind of can-do guy that Mike Mulligan is. We toured their adorable home, and much of it was made by Mike, fixed by Mike, and/or improved by Mike. Mike made the deck with his bare hands (and maybe some tools). Mike made the mantel. Mike *moved the door of their laundry closet* without leaving a trace.

I told Mary Anne that she is a blessed woman. 🙂 The thing I like most about Mary Anne is her ability to keep conversation flowing without a single hiccup. It makes talking to her so easy, and I get easily panicked by trying to make conversation with difficult people.

I think that what made our time with Mike and Mary Anne so special is how easily we are able to connect with them, and they with us, even with the age gap. They are totally wonderful people, and their stories and life experience are unparalleled. The air is always filled with a lot of laughter when we visit.

Now we’re talking about a nature walk in the future. 🙂

the post about my birthday

It has officially come and gone – I am now one-quarter of a century old. (!!) Hurray!

Isn’t it kind of odd to get to an age you thought about as a child? I don’t think many young girls think about turning 50 or 70 or anything venerable like that, but I think a lot of us thought about being 20 and 25, and probably hoping we’d be married by then and maybe have a baby (or two, or four, depending on the expediency of said marriage). Myself, I think 25 is the oldest age I ever thought about. Now, of course, I’m thinking about 30, and 50, and 75, but that’s because important people I know are turning these ages.

So here I am, married, in a beautiful house that is bigger than I thought I would have in my second year of marriage. I don’t have any kids, which I’m sure would surprise my child self. I have traveled more than I thought I would. I am way more into food than I used to be, and I don’t see that passion going anywhere, so I hope to be an amazing chef with an adventurous palate by the time I’m a foxy 75 (was that inappropriate?).

Because this was a big birthday, I had a big birthday party. My parents hosted 20 people celebrating my birthday at their home for a one-long-table, sit-down, totally-vegetarian dinner out on their screened-in porch. My mom and I cooked everything, and my sister Mary made the place look like we were stepping into Anthropologie. It was beautiful, with twinkle lights and paper lanterns and spring cotton tablecloths and white candles. The food was delicious and fresh, with a farm-to-table style.

The previous night, my husband took me to Carpe Diem for drinks, as is our tradition. In 2012, while we were only engaged, he took me there as a special treat on my birthday. He actually had a different place in mind, in the same strip, but it was closed. In fact, it is still closed. So Carpe Diem has gotten our business three years in a row now, and I hardly think we would switch. Tradition, TRADITION!

It’s still not over! The perquisite dinner out with my in-laws is happening tomorrow, and I hear they have a stack of presents for me. (!!!)

the 21st person

Last weekend, Joshua and I went to NYC. It was the first time I’ve ever really been, at least since 2001, when I visited with relatives for one day. In May of 2012, my brother and sister and I drove up the east coast, and one of our stops was, of course, the Big Apple. However, we made the mistake of bringing a car to the city (never ever again), and not dressing for the weather, and not having any plan at all. We didn’t see much.

This time, we really did it. We saw the city. We experienced New York. I love that place. Not to live, just to visit.

One of the things we did was get cronuts from the amazing Dominique Ansel‘s bakery. Cronuts are a semi-recent fad – they’re a mix between a croissant and a doughnut. You can only imagine.

The thing is, even though they blew up the food world over a year ago now, the demand is still much higher than the supply. Because they are only made by the original creator in his relatively small NYC bakery, people line up there starting well over an hour before the store even opens at 8:00am.

While Joshua was at his work conference (the reason we were in NYC to start with), I stood in the bakery line. I know, I know. It was insane. Growing up, my family just did not do stuff like that. No Black Friday shopping, no waiting in line for the iPhone. That’s just not us. It looks like it might be Joshua and me, though. He dropped me off with Aroma coffee at the back of the still-growing line at around 7:15, and I stood there for almost an hour before the line even started moving.

At 7:50, one of the bakery personnel came down the line with mini madeleines fresh from the oven to satiate our appetites (if one bite of pastry can do that). At 8:00, the line took a big leap forward, but then stopped dead. I didn’t realize what was going on, but it turns out that Dominique Ansel’s bakery very wisely controls the voraciously hungry and very competitive customers in their line by letting in only 20 people at a time. This means there isn’t a chaotic stampede toward hot cronuts when the doors finally open.

However, they also make you wait until all 20 of the 20 people have come out (for the most part). After three or four batches of people had gone in, I was so close to the front of the line I could almost taste the icing sugar. The bakery woman came out and started counting the next batch, and STOPPED right in front of me. I was #21. So in went the next 20 people, and I was left holding a foam baguette to mark my position as first in line for the next batch, which would not go in for another 25 minutes or so.

<sigh>

So close.

At 9:30am, when I finally went through the doors and there were, by some miracle, still cronuts left to be purchased, it felt so good. And then, the following morning, when Joshua and I consumed our cronuts for Shabbat breakfast and they were jaw-droppingly delicious and he LOVED them? It was totally, totally worth it.

pouring heart

I have a new project. A new thing that takes time in my life.

It’s a garden.

If you don’t know me well, you may not be as shocked as my mom and some of the rest of my family and friends, who can’t believe we’ve put in a garden, which I will need to weed, water, and generally upkeep.

You know how I hate to sweat, hate bugs, hate dirt, and am not an outdoor kind of person.

Well, somehow, the allure of fresh vegetables trumped all that, and we put in a 12×4′ raised bed and planted all kinds of stuff in it.

Namely, tomatoes, eggplant, a pepper plant, various herbs, beans, cucumbers, and zucchini.

After planting all the little plants and seeds, I realized throughout the course of this past week (while watering faithfully every morning – rain, where ARE you?!) that it’s actually more about watching all of this life grow. I cannot believe how fast my seeds sprouted. It is Day 6 of gardening, and I have tiny little plants where I planted seeds. It’s truly a miracle, as everything in nature is, and it happens almost literally in front of my eyes. Yesterday morning, I went out and watered and checked things out, and that night, there were new plants where there had only been dirt – it’s that fast.

And so, while I can’t wait to finally eat the fruits of our labor (may G-d grant the rain in its proper season), I am so enjoying taking ownership of all the green, healthy life growing in our backyard, and tending and watching and loving it all. It’s so rewarding. It makes me so happy to see my plants doing well. Each day brings something new, and I get excited about just walking out to the garden in the morning to see what’s there today.

You should try it.

P.S. – start small.

P.P.S. – many, many thanks to my stupendous mother, who has taught me everything I know about gardening (which isn’t much), and has helped me get it all setup correctly. Happy Mother’s Day! I love you!

passover

We just finished celebrating the Festival of Unleavened Bread! It all starts with the big meal the first night – the “seder” meal. This year, for the very first time, we hosted our own in our own home with our own seder plate. It went so well. I was so happy with it.

Our guests were six people with, shall we say, a little more life experience than Joshua and I have. I do love spending time with people older than myself.

I was a little nervous about hosting our own seder. I was so focused on trying to put together a yummy dinner menu that I almost forgot to get the elements of the actual seder (horseradish, apples, parsley, a lamb shank bone, etc.)! Yikes! Then I ended up making WAY too much food. <sigh> Oh well.

We got rave reviews!!! Joshua did such a fantastic job leading our seder. All the men in our lives make it look so easy, sailing through the haggadah (the Pesach seder order of service book) like it’s nothing, but you know what? It’s not nothing. It is actually really hard to be prepared with all the different elements and read all the paragraphs you need to read without skipping anything WHILE explaining what’s going on to people who are new to this. <whew> I’m just glad I married someone so brilliant.

After our rather intimate, 8-person seder, we attended the massive 19-person seder at my in-laws house the following evening, and that was a blast.

It’s been a great week! We’ve had the pizza, the lasagna, and even burgers on matzah (unleavened bread), and I’ve loved it. I neglected to get my Costco-sized bag of prunes to keep up with the matzah, though, so…I’m happy we’re back to not having to have “white bread” every day!

Now we’re counting to the Omer (check out Leviticus 23), to get to Shavuot! Today is the eighth day!

for he’s a jolly good fellow

Things have happened, and I’m only just now starting to write about them. Let’s start with the trip to NY.

It came to our attention last year that our Uncle Fred (who is one of our absolute favorite people, let alone uncles) was turning 50 in 2014. My sister, Morgan, had the brilliant idea to help him celebrate it by showing up, unannounced, in New York.

Months upon months of planning later, we did it. All twelve of us (as Uncle Fred so eloquently put it, his “brother, his wife, his five children, his three sons-in-law, and his two granddaughters”) flew up to Rochester, NY, to spend a long weekend with Uncle Fred and Aunt Stephanie and figuratively bang the pots and pans and pop the champagne to ring in our uncle’s new year.

Because Uncle Fred is a planner, we FaceTimed him three weeks in advance to tell him we were coming, and I think he was suitable surprised and pleased. I say “pleased” rather than “excited”, because neither Uncle Fred and Aunt Stephanie are effusive people. It might be the whole Northern thing.

The weekend included great food, a craft beer tasting (Uncle Fred is big into beer), NY pizza, too many games of pool, a chance to see our other Northern uncle and his wife, four children, and two hangers-on, a beautiful road trip out to Niagara Falls (a first for my husband and my two brothers-in-law!), a lot of red wine, and a visit to the cemetery where my grandparents are buried. I also have a newfound yearning for Wegman’s to come to Charlotte. PLEASE, Great Powers That Be of Wegman’s…

The most eventful part of the journey was undoubtedly the trip home, when we flew from the Buffalo airport to the LaGuardia airport and had a 25 minute layover to catch our Charlotte flight. Has anyone ever been to the LGA airport? Can I see a show of hands, please? So you know how big it is, right?

Well, we asked the flight attendants on our BUF-LGA flight to help us out and maybe make an announcement to let us get off the plane first (we are 12 people all trying to make one connection, you know), but they didn’t lift a finger. Our first flight left ever-so-slightly late, and then our landing was delayed because LGA was redoing their runways, and basically one thing after another went wrong. When the plane doors finally opened, there was a mad dash out to the terminal. We had less than 15 minutes to make the connection, so we sent two of our party sprinting out to the connecting gate (across the entire airport, of course); we sent one person to our current gate to have them call over to the connecting gate and tell them to hold the plane; the airport sent one of those coveted little golf cart things to help tote us over to the connecting gate; we piled nine people + driver onto the little cart, which was surely only supposed to fit four; we ran wildly through the remainder of the terminal, when the cart could take us no further, and tumbled onto our plane breathing thanks to all flight attendants and gate agents involved in our rescue.

It was a miracle we made it, and really, really good, because there were no more Charlotte flights out that night, and we would have had to spend the night in the airport WITH TWO LITTLE TINY CHILDREN WHO WERE OVERTIRED AND SICK. (!)

Baruch HaShem.

Speaking of sick, we all came home and promptly got sick (with the exception of maybe one or two of us). It has not been fun, but we are on the mend, and Uncle Fred is definitely worth it.

Happy birthday, Uncle Fred! We love you!

new times

My husband got a new job! It’s really exciting to us. 🙂 If you listen to our podcast, you already know that…

Last week, he went on a *business trip* down to Atlanta, GA. This may be the first of many, or the only one in several years – we will find that out down the road, I expect. Because of our current phase in life, I was able to accompany him! I can’t imagine spending those three days home alone. Sounds pretty lonely. I was really glad I could go this time around.

Atlanta, as it turns out, is HUGE and BUSY and the TRAFFIC is AWFUL. Six lanes, always full. Congested. They have stoplights to merge onto their highways, it’s so bad. After being there, I can understand why their snow and ice problems were so massive. There are so many cars that would have had nowhere to go! Yikes!

It was a bit of an eye-opening experience for me, being there with, but without, Joshua. Whenever we take a trip, we’re together 100% of the time. That’s kind of the point of the trip, you know? So this was different. He was at work for most of the day, and that left me to sightsee or hang out by myself. Battling Atlanta traffic to see the touristy things in which I’m not even interested, or walk city streets…alone? No, thanks. I did take a walk around the Square in downtown Marietta, and it was quaint and beautiful, and probably would have been a highlight of the trip if a) the stores were open and b) it was more than 28 degrees outside. As it was, I didn’t spend an inordinate amount of time there.

However, I still had a really great time. Here in Charlotte, commuting from Indian Trail to uptown Charlotte takes about an hour, and that has cut into my time with my husband just a bit more than usual. It’s something we’ll need to get used to. In Atlanta, we were in a hotel a mere 2 minutes from his office, AND he got off at 4:30 – quite the treat! So, even with the business aspect, it still felt a little like a holiday.

Also, I was able to cross off a bucket item list because of my amazing husband’s diligent research – he found us a rotating restaurant to go to! I’ve always wanted to see one, to see what it’s like. We went to the Sundial, which is on the 72nd floor of the Westin in downtown Atlanta. Beautiful restaurant, beautiful views – I recommend the experience!

how to host a friend for tea

Did you grow up having tea parties? I think most little girls did. My mom had a few books about tea parties with decorating ideas and recipes, and all of us girls had a ball with that. A tea party can be a bit overwhelming, I think. Especially when you really want it done right. The clotted cream. The scones. The lemon curd and jam. The tiered plates with tiny cucumber sandwiches and miniature cookies. The teacups.

I do love a good tea party done right.

However, when one just has a friend over for tea, it can be as simple as tea and an edible. The edible is an essential part of having a friend for tea.
NB: If someone uses the phrase, “drop by,” that is a completely different thing from having someone for tea. That means sipping tea or coffee from mugs while sitting at your kitchen table, catching up. No edibles necessary.

Here’s how to have someone for tea:

1. Make sure your house is tidy. That does not necessarily mean scrubbing the floors on your hands and knees, but things should be straightened, dishes dried and put away, counters wiped up, blankets folded in the living room. Make sure the bathroom is perfectly clean – if you’re drinking tea, you’ll need the bathroom to look nice. 🙂
2. Bake a quick batch of cookies. If you make it a habit to have people for tea, may I recommend making a batch of cookies and freezing them in individual scoops, to be cooked at a later date? Make once, bake many times. This past week, I made a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies and put almost all unbaked scoops of batter in the freezer. An ideal number of cookies to have for two people is probably four. It provides the option of two per person, looks like plenty, and means you won’t overeat. Remember that tea is traditionally at 4:00pm, but nowadays done anytime in the afternoon, and we don’t want to spoil our appetites.
3. If you choose to make cookies, fresh or frozen, preheat your oven one hour in advance of your company. If she’s arriving at 2:00pm, preheat the oven at 1:00pm. This way, you will have the cookies baked and cooled, the pan washed and put away, and the house smelling like heaven – just in time for your guest!
4. Set out your tea service:
   – The teapot
   – The choices of tea (if you’re providing choices – you could just pick one yourself)
   – Milk/lemon/sugar (optional – I knew my guest wouldn’t take anything in her tea)
   – Cups (mugs are totally fine, but if you happen to have teacups…)
   – Plates & napkins for cookies (if you have cute little napkins or vintage linens, that’s great – it all depends on the kind of mood you want to set)
5. If it’s a cold day, light your fireplace! If you don’t have a fireplace, make sure the heat is keeping things nice and toasty. You don’t want your guest hugging her mug for warmth.
6. Adjust your lighting so that things are cozy and inviting. The lightbulbs on the ceiling fan may be a little harsh for an afternoon tea. The indirect, soft light of a side table lamp with the backlighting from another room might be perfect. Switch things on and off until you find your sweet spot (and remember it for next time, so you don’t have to test it again!).
7. Heat up the water. I like to do this about 5 minutes before I expect company. I have an electric kettle, so it’s pretty snappy. Boiling water on the stovetop would take longer, and you can adjust your timing to meet your needs. If your guest is habitually late, wait to turn on the kettle until you get her text saying she’s running late and is right around the corner.
8. Smooth your hair and fix your dress! Or, rather, make sure you look like you’ve been relaxing all morning and the house cleaned itself and the tea was made by magic fairies.

It’s not like I’m an expert or anything. Read this post as encouragement to have a friend over every now and then to enjoy each other’s company! Tea with a friend is like an oasis in time. It’s really delightful. I like to aim for one a week, if I can, but it’s probably more like one every two weeks, and sometimes one of those turns into sipping mochas at Starbucks. Inviting someone into your home, though – even if it’s more work – is definitely more rewarding.

winter white

How many different cliched snow blog post names do you think are out there? I just thought of three or four without even thinking about it, so I’m guessing a TON.

Anyways.

Beside the point.

So, guess what? It snowed.

It really did! Of course, it was more like white fluff in the air, smaller than desiccated coconut, if you can believe that. It didn’t stick to much at first, but when we got up this morning, there was a dusting all over everything. I’d say about an inch or two, if that.

While Joshua was piddling around up stairs trying to get his command center setup so he could work from home, I decided I would like to go out and play in the snow like a little girl. It’s been a long time since I was a little girl. (Ok, not that long, but sometimes it feels longer than at others.)

On with the play jeans and warm sweater. Double layers of socks. Fuzzy hat. Handwarmers. One of Joshua’s big coats that keeps me cozy but I don’t have to worry about getting dirty. Ugg-style boots that aren’t Uggs, because who wears $200 boots in real snow?

I tramped out the front door and saw my neighbor brushing the snow off her car in preparation for going to work. I suddenly felt very foolish and childish and lazy and entitled, because I get to stay home all day and play in the snow while the washer does my laundry and my neighbor has to go off to work. I ducked back inside before she saw me and went out to the backyard, instead.

I know it’s silly to think like that. My husband is an excellent provider, and he *likes* that I stay home. But still. It might have had something to do with how childish I also looked at the moment…

Anyway, so the snow was pure powder and you can’t do much with powder-puff snow. I had visions of making a miniature snowman and sending a picture to my sister, who is babysitting in Mooresville, but I couldn’t get anything together. Disappointing. Then I thought about making a snow angel, but I didn’t that would work so well, because I could see the grass through the snow, so it would be less than impressive.

I took pictures of cat footprints that were all over our patio and front stoop – yuck. Thank goodness they were only cat. I gave the bushes a good shake and videoed the snow falling off of them, because it looked pretty. I stamped around on the road and the gutter, breaking ice under my boots and watching the spidery patterns that makes.

I hid behind my chimney as my neighbor drove away.

I drew hearts and wrote my name in the snow collected on top of our recycling can. I was tempted to write all kinds of messages on Joshua’s car, but I thought he might like to see it in its pristine condition, snow and all, instead of totally defaced by finger drawings.

Then, with nothing left to do, I checked the mail and went back inside.

Never too old to be young.

P.S. – it’s more fun to play in the snow when you have a playmate.