A Christmas Story

Instead of dreaming about getting a sweet Red Ryder BB gun for Christmas

I love this movie.

I have been fantasizing about  my home construction:

Coming up the driveway.

Although she’s coming along nicely, I find myself getting more and more inpatient. Especially when we have a sunset like this:

A winter sunset.

After showing off ”the baby” to each and every houseguest (4 trips in all), we got down to business. Or rather, the boys got down to business. The contest? Who can create the most interesting facial hair. The 3 guys: N, b.i.l., and S grew out there beards starting from the first snowfall back in November and convened the day after Christmas for a man-scaping show down.

Men with beards. A before shot.

While the guys hunkered down with various shaving implements as well as plastic bags and a roll of paper towel (I’m ok not asking on this one), the parents played games.

Don't let the heart fool you. These guys are out for blood!

One by one, they reappeared.

N's contest shave.

Yes, that’s my husband looking like he should be announcing the elephant act while wearing a top hat.

My b.i.l. happy to have sculpted his bushy beard.

I think my b.i.l. was just happy to not be sporting his bushy face mess anymore. S on the other hand?

Man-scaping gone wild.

Maybe facial hair does make a man?

Just kidding.

 All three contestants:

Three wise men. Whose facial hair is the best? I can't pick.

We never ended up voting like we said we would because all 3 were so good. Ever the over-achiever, N ended up ‘scaping a second look in addition to his ring master look.

The boys showing off their facial 'dos.

I voted for this look.

Once the hair sculpting was done, we could move on to the serious stuff: dinner. This year, N and I decided our theme would be a cooking class. We came up with recipes to approximate the dishes we love at Poppycocks here in TC. We divided everyone into different teams and assigned various dishes.

N and Dad S made the smoked goods: brisket, turkey and this utterly delicious salmon:

House smoked salmon so good we dug into it before the camera came out.

B.i.l. and Mom S made tomato basil soup and foccacia bread.

Christmas foccacia bread.

S and Dad Dub made sweet potato and russet potato oven fries with 3 kinds of guac (mild, medium and holy hot).

Trays of oven fries.

S.i.l. and Mom Dub made a quinoa greek salad. Sadly, I didn’t take a picture of this beauty. Just know this: it was delicious.

What the hell did I do during this madness? I was the ”floater.” I directed traffic, cooked the oven fries,  made some roasted red bell pepper pesto for the smoked brisket and prior to the crazed cooking class, I made lemon bars. Once the lemon bars cooled, I glazed them with lemon curd from TJ’s, sprinkled them with powdered sugar then made a mixed berry balsmic compote with basil. Sounds complicated but the compote really cooks itself. 

After a few hours, dinner was ready and we were starving. This is how mean I am. After everyone made up their plates, I had us sit for a picture (actually two pictures but you get the drift).

A quick pic before dinner--all 9 of us in the frame. It only took 2 tries.

I don’t need to tell you that I stuffed my face (but I did). 

We needed a quick reprieve before dessert–plus we hadn’t opened up presents yet (food before gifts!).

Enjoying my nasty post-dinner diet Crush....hey! It's Christmas!

The santa hats were a present from Mom Dub. She also brought along glitter pens for us to personalize our caps.

Our santa hats.

All 9 of us decorated hats around the table so we could take our group holiday photo.

The whole gang in front of the tree. Merry Christmas!

After a week of fun and games, it was sad to see everyone go. Who is going to take down this tree for me?

I figure I’ve got one more weekend before I really need to think about taking decorations down. So, for now, I’m just going to enjoy.

I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday!

Like a Pig in Shit

That’s the best way to describe my recent trip to Florida. Although our hosts reminded us repeatedly that they were sorry it was so “cold,” I was pretty darn happy. I mean, good lord! I went from 29 degrees and frigid to 70 degrees and care free. Oh sweet warmth!

We got in late on a Thursday night. Friday morning we got up and putzed around a bit. I went for a run and then N’s Aunt took us to Wholefoods for lunch and shopping. Oh how I’ve missed Wholefoods. Pig in shit I tell ya! That night, we went to dinner with N’s Aunt, Uncle and four of their friends, in a cute little town called Winter Park. We started with drinks at a wine bar (I got a glass of stout–what is wrong with me?) Then we headed over to Prato around 8pm for dinner.

This place was uber-loud but the food was pretty delicious. I started with the yellowfin tuna crudo that came with  fresh chile, olive oil, citrus, and opal basil flower. Very tasty.

Tuna crudo with a hint of spice. Just how I like it.

I followed it up with a butternut squash salad (the pic didn’t turn out) that I will be attempting to replicate shortly, as it was incredibly delicious. Along with the salad I had the cannellini bean and lacinato kale soup with Parmesan brodo and grilled ciabatta. I have no clue what a brodo is but it was pretty, pretty, pretty good.

Kale soup--easily my new favorite kind of soup.

Everyone seemed really happy with their food choices and the guys kept ordering bottles of prosecco for the girls and red wine for the guys. I was pretty lit I think. Someone ordered a bunch of desserts to try and the standouts were a chocolate concoction that came in a little jar and an apple torte with ice cream.

The next day involved lots of walking and, in general, hanging out outside with a book. N and I cooked dinner for our hosts: taco bar with grilled buffalo, chicken and swordfish. I made my semi-famous guac and pico de gallo and bakes some tortilla chips in the oven while N played grillmaster. This has become one of our go-to meals because it is so easy and pretty fail-safe.

Sunday involved a bike ride in the sun, an hour playing tennis on clay courts at a country club and a deep tissue massage. Oink, oink! Very fancy, indeed. N’s cousin got inspired and decided to cook dinner for everyone that night. And boy, can this girl cook! When I was 15, I thought it was cool that I made my own pasta noodles or “stir-fried” frozen veggies in an electric wok. Em took a couple of recipes that she’s never made before and ran with them. She took on fish, asparagus, fingerling potatoes and risotto all by herself. The result? A home run.

Em's gourmet dinner: fish, roasted potatoes, asparagus and risotto. She is 15 years old. Seriously.

We nibbled on several kinds of desserts after dinner, including mini-chocolate lava cakes, lemon bars and ice cream. Good thing it was nice enough out to go for a walk after dinner after all that food. Their neighborhood is pretty freakin’ amazing and the Christmas lights did not disappoint. They also have random heards of deer and wild turkeys all over their ‘hood. They say there is a bear as well. But, thankfully, I did not have an encounter with him.

5 deer on the front lawn--munching and hanging out.

The deer are like squirrels in an urban setting. These ladies are not too worried about it and let us get as close as we wanted (which for me, was not that close. But nevertheless!).

I was not ready to come back home but ready enough I suppose. We are planning to go back again soon. I think the fact that I only worked 2 days last week was pretty helpful. 2 co-workers invited me back in August to their annual Christmas cookie baking day and it was last Friday. How could I miss this madness?

A glutton of cookies and festive baked goods.

We baked for more than 7 hours. I’m not kidding. I came home with a ridiculous amount of stuff and have been pawning random bags of assorted baked goods off to anyone that crosses my path. I finally got rid of the bark we made, as I was hitting it way too hard over the weekend. There may as well be crack in it. It’s that good.

White chocolate bark with oreo cookies and peppermint candy cane chunks. Aka? Crack.

Now I’m counting down the days until Christmas. The whole fam will be here. Pig in shit, I tell ya! Pig in shit. 

 

Too Many Thoughts

Does this ever happen to you? You’ve got so many thoughts that you want to explore, and maybe even write about, but there are so many, they become a jumbled up mess. That’s where I’m at right now. So instead of a word salad, I give you real salad pictures of food. I’m hoping to detangle and process the thoughts into a coherent post soon.

On our way to dinner. Can I look any more haggard?

 Ok, so I lied. First some pics of peeps going to dinner. This is from N’s birthday right before Turkey Day. That purple wool coat is a product of my recent trip out to see my sister. Thank you Loehman’s!

Happiness is a plate of cured meats and a beer.

Dinner at Bay Leaf was pretty good, although as I’m learning more and more these days, the apps are where it’s at. Entrees? Not so much.

My salad with an enormous parmesan crisp.

My main gripe with entrees is that it’s just too much food. So this time, I stuck with a salad and a small plate. Too bad the small plate was disappointing. After the waitress said “kabocha” and “black truffle shavings” I apparently did not hear that the risotto would be more like a cheesy rice dish. Think cheesy rice from a box.

Allegedly a dish of kabocha squash risotto adorned with black truffle. Tasted like mac n' cheese. Bizarre.

 N was happy with his meal o’ pork. He also helped with above cheesy rice. I got to try his fingerling potatoes and they were pretty darn tasty.

His birthday entree: Pork chop with fingerling potatoes and fennel.

Poor guy. When he saw they had creme brulee for dessert, he was so excited. When he found out they “ruined” it by making it a coffee flavored brulee, he was pretty disappointed. Luckily this man is optimistic. He quickly decided that dessert at home would be even better than a creme brulee. How cute is he? The answer? Very.

Thanksgiving was really special this year because we got to see both sides of the family, including N’s Oma. She was really sick for a while and is finally starting to come around. She was so happy to see us.

Oma with me and N.

We also got a pic of Oma with her oldest and youngest grandchildren. A isn’t a fan of this picture but I think she looks gorgeous.

Oma posing with her oldest and youngest grandchild.

I’m currently on the countdown until Thursday afternoon, when I will board a plane to Florida for a long weekend of warm weather. My cold hands feel better already.

You’re Like a Never Ending Holiday

It’s that time of the year again. I’m not referring to Thanksgiving or Christmas, but rather to N’s birthday. This year it falls the day before Gobbler Day which is kind of nice. I think it would pretty well suck to have to share your birthday with a big holiday like that. Some people might not agree with that. But for me, on my birthday, I like to do whatever the hell I want to do. That usually amounts to sleeping in, padding around the house drinking some tea, going for a long run and having something tasty for dinner–but nothing over the top. So that’s my frame of reference.

Getting back to the birthday boy. Our big plans include doing the chest and biceps DVD with our pal Tony Horton.

Bring It

Then some errands–bank, Home Depot, pharmacy. When we get back, I’ll spend some time with my favorite pals, butter and chocolate while I bake some of his favorite cookies (I cannot promise that I will not eat some batter along the way).

 Next up? A trip up to 2lads (their winery may have inspired our home plans) for a sip of tasty wine.

My dream home, complete with a thriving winery.

Dinner will probably be at this place, as we’ve not tried it yet.

We’ll also fit in a hike to go see the progress on the house, aka the baby.

South side of the house--which now has some windows but I was too lazy to download the new picture.

Since I am not a big lover of buying Hallmark cards, I’ve decided to write out my card on my blog. For everyone else: that’s your warning.  I promise mostly silly and not too much sap . Ok, maybe a little bit.

Sweetie,

Happy Birthday! How time seems to fly by. From college, to grad school,  then on to “real life” stuff, you just keep getting better. Thanks for being my fine wine. I’m one lucky lady. In the words of Dorothy Moore:

Mmmm….hmmmm….

My gift is you….wrapped in a love that’s true….
I make my home in you’re arms
See, I need for you… and nothing can compare…
To what we share
We’re in a world of our own
So much love is there

So baby you are my life
To live without you, I would’nt try
What would I be without you
Let me make this toast to you

You’re what I celebrate
You’re like a never ending holiday
You’re my forever special occasion

 

Here’s to your birthday today and the wish for joy and fun everyday for decades more. I love you.

Just the two of us....we can make it if we try. You and I.

Not Quite the Mile High Club

Note to self: no matter how dry your skin, do not, I repeat, DO NOT, use lotion until after clearing security at a large airport. Due to my overzealous use of a wonderfully hydrating hand cream,my hands came up as positive for explosives. Why were they checking my hands? Because I made the first mistake of wearing jeans with buttons on the back pockets. And even though said jeans are very form-fitting and I went through the scary irradiating they-can-see-everything x-ray machine, apparently the back buttons look too suspicious.

Let me rewind. After one of the shittiest days of work I’ve had in a very long time, I quickly changed into my jeans (the ones with the butt buttons) and N drove us to the airport. Even though our flight was delayed a good two hours, we had built in enough layover padding into the trip that it didn’t matter. Chicago O’Hare is by far one of the worst airports to fly through. They are rarely on time and routinely slow down planes coming in and going out of the airport with the slightest sniff of imperfect weather–which happens quite a bit in the Midwest.

Lady luck was on our side and we made it to Chicago in time to board our flight to Vegas. I had been looking forward to tagging along with N on his monthly business trip for a while now. Unfortunately, Vegas was having unseasonably cold weather when we got there. That didn’t bum me out though because the next morning I was back at the airport, on my way to Orange County for a whirlwind 24 hours with my little sis. And besides gorging ourselves on an extended shopping trip, we also enjoyed sunny 70 degree perfection. Perfect weather, oh how I missed you!

And if you’ve never had fish tacos in SoCal, I highly recommend eating several when you can. They are that good.

Tasty tacos in SoCal: ahi and salmon. Both yummy but the salmon was the best.

The next morning I went out for a run and didn’t want to come back. I have been so sick for SoCal and it did not disappoint. Our time ended too quickly and before I knew it I was back at the airport, flying to Vegas to meet up with N and his co-workers at the same restaurant where many scenes were filmed for one of my favorite movies:

I love me some mobster movies!

This particular restaurant is very old school and apparently, still plays host to many of the “important” families still alive in Vegas. In the spirit of the mob lifestyle, I started with a decadent glass of champagne. I went with a tasty salad of avocado and hearts of palm for my starter.

I know it's shocking that I ordered the salad with avocado. There are also hearts of palm with an aoili like dressing. They made it look like a palm tree, sort of.

N got a salad as well:

Caprese salad with a pine nut twist.

Dinner was what you’d expect in Vegas: a crap ton of food.

My dinner: a massive piece of swordfish swimming in a mustard sauce with mashed potatoes and baby carrots.

N and I both got specials. The swordfish was grilled and tasted pretty good. N’s short ribs dish, on the other hand, was more so-so.

N's dinner: short ribs with veggies in a horseradish sauce. The bone in was not what he was hoping for.

I was kind of surprised when people ordered dessert as I was too full. I did have a few tastes of N’s dessert:

Creme brulee--a classic.

All in all a fun evening getting to know some of N’s new colleagues. I had a feeling it would be a fun night when the first thing anyone said was, “we want the dirt on N!“

The next morning we worked out at the gym then headed to the airport. Back to the story. So my pocket buttons lead me to have my hands checked for chemicals found in bombs and to my horror, the machine started blinking red. They asked if I had used any hand lotion that morning and said of course–it’s dry in the desert! (Duh) That’s when they told me about the glycerin causing the positive reading on their little machine. They also told me that I had “nothing to worry about” but I’d have to point to my belongings (but not touch!) and follow two female TSA workers into a room to get “patted down.” It was early in the morning and this was the last thing I wanted to do ever, much less before boarding a plane.

I looked at N and he looked back at me at which point my chin began to quiver. Yeah, that’s right. I started crying.

I got into the tiny room and one worker put on gloves. She explained that she would be “patting” everywhere and would be using the back of her hands on my “sensitive areas“, including breasts, crotch and butt. She also had to feel under the waist-band of my jeans–I guess who knows what I might be hiding under there! As she was “working,” she looked at the other worker and said something like, “she’s a tiny one.” The other worker looked at me and said to her co-worker, “it must me nice.” I wanted to shout: “I’M RIGHT HERE!!” I don’t do well when people talk about me right in front of me.

The whole experience felt like a violation. The only person I want patting me down is my husband. I get that safety and security is important. I really do. But this seemed and felt to be over the top. The worst part is that there’s no recourse. This kind of extreme safety crap has been going on for too long. I guess it stimulated job growth because they need a ton of workers in order to get all of this patting down done. Here’s hoping that I avoid getting felt up on our next trip.

Two things are for sure though: 1. No jeans with buttons on the butt will be part of my airport attire ever again and 2. No matter how flaky and dry, no lotion to the hands before going through security. Lessons learned the hard way.

Fall, For Reals

For the last twelve years, I’ve yearned for a real Fall. You know, with leaves changing, crispy air, cider mills and the smell of real wood-burning chimneys. Instead there was usually a little dip in the morning temps, but nothing dramatic. In the daytime it was sunny and could have been any summer day. The only real change that happened to let me know that the seasons were indeed changing, besides college football of course, were the trees turning into their skeletons, losing their green leaves with no color change whatsoever. Just a lot of brown-ness. And of course, the time change that made it dark around 4:45pm.

But this year, finally, I’m experiencing the real deal.

The golden color rivals that of the Aspens we saw with my s.i.l. in Colorado last year.

In fact, I can’t remember seeing trees turn such a brilliant golden hue in the past.

It's hard not to stop and stare. For me it's hard to believe these trees are real.

We’ve been hiking a ton. Look at our beautiful forest.

Our hiking path. Created and maintained lovingly by the one and only N.

Our trail leads us to our baby in progress:

West view of the house. Still waiting for windows...

The big change this week was the balcony construction. Finally! 

The view of the west bay from the balcony. Gorgeous.

Sure there are no rails and no good way to get up there right now but we managed to monkey up and spend some time with the view anyway. (Do you like my please-don’t-shoot-me-I’m-not-a-deer orange hat?)

Happy to finally have a balcony to stand on.

Fall is also that time of year that I start to get the baking bug back. We finally got down to business with the pumpkins that N’s Dad grew and gave to us. This one’s my favorite:

Warty pumpkin waiting to be cut and roasted.

Last night, to kill the time while I was taking hospital call (by old school pager no less), we decided to experiment with some pumpkin pie ideas. I had N get out his little hack-saw and break down Mr. Warty J. Pumpkin for me.

This is one dense pumpkin.

To our sad surprise, this pumpkin didn’t really have any seeds for us to roast.

A surpising paucity of seeds. A very sad moment indeed.

Now, I’m not really a pie fan. I’ve disappointed many a host by not indulging in pie and I always feel guilty, but I know that I won’t like it so I stick to my guns. I wondered how I’d feel about pumpkin pie bars. I don’t like pie crust and these bars have a very thing layer of homemade crust. We cobbled together about 3 different recipes and then added anything else that sounded good (coconut butter, greek yogurt, ground coriander, grated fresh ginger, lemon zest, tons of cinnamon and of course, freshly roasted then pureed pumpkin). It came out of the oven looking like this:

Cooling down to be cut into bars.

And survey says?!? After a very tenuous bite, I decided that they are kind of ridiculously delicious. They are light and airy and pretty darn tasty with a little bit of ice cream. Great success!

Is it pathetic that I am totally excited about the extra hour of sleep that the Fall back time change allows tonight? If it is, I don’t care. In the words of my new morning buddy, Tony Horton (that’s right, I’ve been sticking with the P90X program thank you very much):

Bring It!

What do you love about Fall?

A Brotha (and Sista!) From Anotha Motha

We visited my b.i.l. in Minneapolis this past weekend. I was counting down the days all week long. The day before we left I got some packages in the mail. One expected:

Getting ready for nasty weather.

You know how I feel about winter. Well, maybe you don’t. But you will. I won’t waste time on it now, however.

The other package, a total surprise:

A sweet present surprise from a sweet friend.

Abby is so thoughtful. These were delicious! They’re gone now. I didn’t share. I guess that was not so thoughtful of me.

Since it’s been getting pretty darn cold at night (god help me), we are starting to make some ridiculously spicy food (again, god help me). After collecting approximately 5 recipes for tortilla soup over the course of 2 years, I finally went for it. What the hell took me so long? Instead of chicken, we used swordfish, which actually worked really well. The only problem with this lovely little bowl?

Tortilla soup.

It burned the crap out of my mouth. I guess adding both chipotle chilis in adobo sauce with a whole jalopeno will sometimes do that. By the end of this meal, I think I added close to 1/2 cup of greek yogurt–which incidentally turned the soup a brilliant pink hue–along with 3 glasses of almond milk to calm the fire. My forehead was sweating and my nose running, but I would not let that bowl of soup beat me. I was determined to eat the whole thing. It wasn’t pretty but it was delicious. Next time, for the sake of my mouth, maybe I’ll skip the jalopeno. Maybe.

We’ve also been stoking up the fireplace lately.

Building our first fire of the season.

But I digress. We got up ass-crack early Friday morning and boarded a little commuter plane. An hour later–sort of (there is an hour time change so not really an hour later)–we were in the ‘Sota meeting up with my b.i.l. We hung out and had something to drink while we waited for my s.i.l. and her BF to arrive from Denver. Soon enough we were all there and ready to head over to b.i.l.’s apartment to chill out until lunch time.

We headed out to one of b.i.l.’s faves for lunch: Be ‘Wiched Deli. I can see why he likes this place so much. Lunch was fantastic. I went for the soup:

Tasty cup o' soup: tomato, lentils and kale.

And a sandwich:

My first pink veggie burger: beet and mushroom.

I’ve never had a veggie burger made with beets before but I gotta say, it was very tasty. It won’t be my last beet burger.

With full bellies, we strolled back to pick up our stuff and check in to our hotel. Our next course of action? Figure out where to eat dinner. We had several options but ended up at this place. Solera has a fantastic menu with tapas, charcuterie, cheese and paella. There were six of us so we decided to pair up and order a bunch of tapas. While we were figuring out what to get, we nibbled on some charcuterie, olives and almonds.

Charcuterie plate. My favorite part? The house made pickles. Yum!

N and I ended up ordering 5 dishes.

Beluga lentils, farm poached egg, toasted brioche and truffle:

The egg was over-poached but the truffle-y goodness made up for it.

Grilled cuttlefish, kale, canellini beans, Aleppo pepper:

The cuttlefish could have been more charred.

Pulpo y Papa:

Grilled octopus with potatoes and a citrusy vinaigrette. Fabulous!

Braised beef cheeks, rutabaga puree, greens, pickled mustard seed:

Braised beef cheek with rutabaga puree. Absolutely ridiculous.

Papas crujientes:

Crispy yukon potatoes, mascarpone, greens, fresh lemon. My favorite dish of the night.

There were at least 5 more tapas dishes that sounded fantastic. If you are ever in the area, I’d highly recommend stopping. We lingered over our dinner for several hours and never felt rushed. Finally, on b.i.l.’s recommendations, we headed over to Dakota’s to hear some live music. I sipped on some root beer (because that’s how I roll) while listening to some fantastic music by Betheny and the Bees Knees. I can’t remember her last name but the band was fun and her voice interesting in a good way.

All in all a great visit with tons of walking, eating and talking. Just how I like it! There was another (unpictured) veggie burger (black beans!), some home made tacos (more black beans!) and a trip to a Mediterranean grocery and a Polish sausage place. Oh, and did I mention that b.i.l. is an excellent beer maker? We sampled his stout and this boy is good! I can’t believe he hit a home run on his first batch. Well, given his genes, that’s not entirely true.

We were sad to leave last night but happy to know that we’ll see him and s.i.l. in 2 short months.

What is your favorite city to visit?

What Was I Thinking?

One of the most difficult changes (besides the whole friend situation) in moving North has been getting used to waking up in the morning to a dark sky. Let’s just say it’s not inspiring me to spring out of bed and go for my usual morning run. I can barely roll out of bed. Then I end up putzing away my time before work and only end up doing a lame ass workout.

To help combat the morning darkness, N found and purchased this for us:

Phillips light alarm.

Not only does this sucker mimic the sunrise (sort of), at the end of the lightest part, birds start chirping. They are polite at first. If you don’t get up now, be prepared for the birds to go a bit ape shit on your ass. They are loud. All in all, it has been helpful getting up.

But then what to do about the workout conundrum? I used to like to do an hour of something before work. I’ve found it’s the best way to really wake up and get through my day. Running in the dark is sort of an option: I bought a headlamp. It definitely takes getting used to. I began leaning a little too heavily on Ms. Jillian Michaels and started to feel like I was phoning in all of my workouts with her. So what’s a girl supposed to do?

I broke down and went to the X side with this nut job:

Tony Horton will bring it to you X style.

The biggest reason I got P90X? It was on sale on Amazon and has multiple workouts. N and I started his program on Monday and it’s actually a pretty good workout series. It’s new for me and keeps me engaged which is what I was looking for. It also made both of us sore as hell. So now the challenge is on, Mr. Horton. I will do your 90 day program and I will conquer your workouts. The only part I’m not gonna do is the before and after pics although I may regret that later.

Do you work out in the morning? What gets you going first thing?

We’ve Met Our Match

One of the hardest parts about moving to a new area is the whole friend thing. Or really, in my case, a lack thereof. We’ve been so busy that it hasn’t been easy to make plans with new people. We’ve done a lot of stuff with family, though, and that’s the reason for the move. My b.i.l. stopped by for lunch on Saturday on his way back to Minnesota. We made soft pretzels and used them to make sandwiches. They were delicious but those puppies are dense! One is enough. We ate at the construction site and then rocked in our chairs and watched the water like old people.

The three amigos in full effect. Post-prandial.

There’s not a whole lot more relaxing for me these days than sitting on the upper floor of my home in-progress watching the water and eventually, the sunset.

Sunset from our home in progress. I'm speechless.

But, as usual, I digress. To be fair, we have met some real friend potentials. So far, I think my Pilates instructor and her husband take the cake. Ok, so I pay her to be my friend. Sort of. She puts me through my Pilates paces and has always been really friendly. She and her husband are T.C. transplants, too, and carry a similar story of living life in big city (in their case, NYC) with all of the chaos and frenetic energy and then one day it was just too much. They packed their bags more than 3 years ago and bought a house in Interlochen. She went from the insane world of fashion to owning a Pilates studio. I find that rather awesome.They’re still settling into a lifestyle that is a million miles from what they were used to. Needless to say, we can definitely relate.

They invited us to dinner last Saturday. Unfortunately, I left my camera in the car or otherwise there would be some major food porn pics. It was that good. Apparently, they haven’t been able to find a good pizza place so over the last couple of years they have taken homemade pizza to a new level.

Bridgit’s husband, Keith, made the pizza dough 3 days ahead of time. They made 4 pizzas in total. Each one outstanding. The first was a simple Margherita pizza with fresh mozz, tomato sauce and basil. Oh good god! The first bite was inspiring. We were advised to sprinkle a little parm and some sea salt on our slice. Absolute heaven.

The next pie was proscuitto and asparagus. What a flavor combination.

My personal favorite was pie number 3: shiitake mushrooms sauteed in truffle oil. All I can say about that is that it should be illegal in most states. I went in for seconds on that sucker.

The fourth and last pie was sopressata. I didn’t try this one, as I was still happily munching away on my tricked out, truffle-laden pie. But I was told it, too, was fantastic.

And oh yeah, there was salad. With homemade balsamic vinaigrette. Yum. I had a heap of it in between the pizza and washed it all down with a hearty red wine. I’m sure they must think I’m a total pig, but you know what? Oink, oink! I’m cool with that. Besides, they’re the ones who made four freaking pizzas!

And while the dinner was out of this world, the conversation was the focal point. I think they get us maybe better than any other couple we’ve hung out with. We talked books, authors, dogs over kids, restaurants, chefs and music. We could have stayed and talked into the wee hours, but of course when it got close to midnight, I began turning into a pumpkin. Sadly, midnight is late for me.

The moon from our homesite.

Herein lies the challenge: what culinary feat to attempt when they come over for dinner? While the ideas have been flowing, I’m pretty sure that we will do some kind of Asian. Ok, who am I kidding? We’ll probably do Korean, considering I can’t seem to eat enough kimchi these days. I’ve been routinely buying 3 jars of the stuff at each shopping trip. And you can’t go wrong with something cooked in a stone pot. I hope they like spicy….

Long Time No See

I’ve got a ton of excuses. Some of them are actually good and slightly valid. Most of them are work…blah blah…work….on call for work…blah blah….more work. The bottom line? I have not done a stellar job balancing myself since the move. I’m working (there’s that damn word again) on it but somehow I can’t seem to get ahead enough to make a plan.

I did take a break last weekend though.  And it was calculated. I twisted my sister’s arm into coming for a visit. I plied her with visions of fall in full bloom and, thankfully, she bit.

Beautiful.

Ah, sweet relief from the daily grind! I picked her up from the airport last Thursday after work and we went for a hike to see the progress on our house.

Me and my little sis. Isn't she gorgeous?

We made a simple, but delicious stir fry for dinner and sipped on some of my new liquid gold while we laughed and joked. We slept in Friday morning (sleep, delicious sleep!) then went for another hike before the parents arrived.

We then made the mistake of playing this game.

Mexican train dominoes. Totally racist. A great game though.

Not only is it fun to play, but apparently it’s addictive. We played right up until we had to leave for one of my favorite restaurants in Traverse City: Poppycocks (I know, it’s a slightly unfortunate name…nevertheless).

Ready to head out for a night of tasty food and fantastic jazz.

I nearly ordered something different, then I didn’t. I got my same old wonderful standby: their house soup that tastes like liquid lasagna and their Up North Cobb salad. Of course we also split the sweet potato fries with guac. That place never disappoints. I won’t bore you with any repeat pictures.

After dinner we had some time to kill, so we went over to the book store for some hijinks.

The pink dog is mesmerizing.

 

This is where I get my plastic face from. My Dad is always up to joke around.

 

My sister and her beaver. Yeah, I said that.

I also found my new favorite book. I’m jealous that I didn’t write it. It is that amazing. YouTube has a rendition read by Samuel L. Jackson. That’s all I have to say about that.

We were still laughing as we walked down to the Opera House for a little night music: Wynton Marsalis was playing that night. I gotta say, the concert was short but spectacular. If you have an opportunity to see this guy and his band, don’t miss it.

The next morning we filled our faces with N’s special Sunday morning corn-cakes then went for a long walk on the peninsula. It all went by way too fast though. We were saying goodbye before I was ready but that’s how time goes.

On their way out. I miss them already.