Me and PW

Pioneer Woman (Ree Drummond) was holding a book signing for her new cookbook in West Chester today, and Andy and I had been planning for weeks to attend.  I hadn’t yet seen a copy of the cookbook – it made the anticipation of the event that much more exciting to wait to read it.  I’d been waiting and waiting and waiting…

Isn’t it pathetic, then, that this morning I was such a nervous wreck over attending the book signing for this woman that I admire and respect so much that I just kind of crumbled into a pathetic, teary I-don’t-know-what-to-wear-I’m-going-to-look-stupid-I-don’t-know-what-to-say-we’re-not-going-to-make-it-in-time  freak.  Pathetic?  Yes.  But we’ve all had those moments, right?

Andy weathered the storm and decided that we would skip church and get to the event early, and I managed to pick out a semi-decent outfit; and we were out the door.  I cheered up on the way there, but visions of unfriendly, chaotic mobs of the overly beautiful people that Philadelphia seems to be populated with kept playing in my head.  Upon arriving at the independent bookstore, I hid in the car to fortify myself with a vanilla pudding while Andy ran in to “scope things out”.

All of my fears were ill-founded.  The PW book signing was extremely well run, efficient, fun, and attended by kind, lovable, very normal, non-model people of all generations who just seemed to want to have fun and be friendly.  Everyone was issued a number (mine was 74, incidentally), and once we’d purchased our specially tagged books, we were herded back to a large back room with seats set up.  Andy and I snagged good seats and settled in to read and relax until Ree arrived.  Things filled up quickly, and I would guess that in the end there were 300-400 people there.

 

Ree arrived and did a really fun Q&A session with the crowd.  We were so impressed at how articulate and diplomatic she was.  She answered every question gracefully and tactfully.  And she was as funny as ever.  I was interested to hear about her homeschooling curriculum, and did you know her major was Gerontology in college??!!

After that, we were called up to the signing line in groups of twenty.  The atmosphere was so jovial and friendly, and Ree was so gracious and generous with her time, never becoming brusque even with people who were lingering too long.

 

 

 

Time flew for me, and before I knew it I was next in line, and completely panicking.  I still had NO idea what to say.  So, in the last split second, I decided to just not bother being super chatty.  I just got out a lot of grins, as usual.  I did manage, when she explained “Oh, a boy!!!” at Andy, that he was willing to come because he loved her cinnamon rolls so much… and goodness, if I made those every day, Andy just might love me even more than he already does.  She signed my stuff and, seeming to sense that I was just a tad shy, saved me by asking if I wanted to take a picture with her, which I was still working up the guts to ask for!

She chatted with me a bit more and then… it was over.

 

All that anticipation and build up and it was over in such a whirlwind!  I stayed and took a few more pictures and then it was home through the pouring rain for a hot shower and some hot soup and to look through my new cookbook!

 

Christmas Heritage

I got a new camera the other day, and I am so excited about it!  Of course, opening up the owner’s manual was like reliving my first day of Greek in college – but, as with picking up Greek, after a few pages, I felt better.  All I want is to be capable of taking frame-able photos of my future babies, and I think we can manage that.

Between the new camera and putting up my Christmas tree last Saturday, I have been positively giddy.  I’ve written about putting up my tree before, so I will spare you my rapturous glee over the stacks of ornament boxes, the Nat King Cole, and Grandpa’s pickles that followed; but if you don’t mind, I will show you a few photos of some of my favorite ornaments, just because I’m so happy both about it and my new plaything.

Disclaimer: Excuse my poor photographic skills.  I took these photos right after I turned the camera on, just to see what it could do and what the settings were like.  I wanted to try with and without flash, with the apartment dark, with the ISO set super high… well, whatever, they were like my first 10 photos, okay!

Disclaimer #2: I have a really ugly fake tree, and the branches, close up, leave much to be desired.  Brace yourself.

 

Teddies are my favorite.  They can be sweet, cutesy, elegant, childish, fun, delicate.  I have a whole set of these little porcelain bears in lots of poses.  They were given to me when I was one year old by one of my Mom’s best friends (and maid of honor).

 

These ornaments are especially precious to me.  When I was about five, my Dad and I sat at the kitchen table all evening cutting out patterns from thin paper Christmas napkins and pasting them to styrofoam balls.  He has half of them at home to hang on the family tree, and I have half here with me.

But not all of my nostalgia-filled ornaments are old.  For my wedding, some of my Dad’s family gave me beautiful handmade glass wedding ornaments from Germany.  These gifts have a strong heritage because not only because my Dad’s family is all German, but my grandmother especially loved and was proud of her Christmas ornament collection, which she had amassed throughout her life and from many different countries.  She would have been very happy with those wedding gifts. 

 

Like my grandmother, I have begun collecting ornaments as I travel to new places.  I found this lovely bulb in a quaint shop outside of Richmond when traveling with my three best friends.  It has happy memories of that trip.

 

And finally, our ornament collection has swelled as Andy’s Nana gifted us with a portion of her collection of ornaments.  Angels were her favorite, and for some reason I really like this little tiny one.  I imagine that she’s singing “Angels We Have Heard on High” in a really high, piping voice.

I don’t think there’s a single ornament on my tree that I don’t have a story for, and I love squealing as I pull them out every year and remember so many happy things.

 

holiday season

So, as usual, Thanksgiving was wonderful.  Our plans with St. Louis friends fell through, so instead we headed up to join extended family at my grandparents, which was a really great time.  We staged our now-annual family football game, although Emily and I weren’t quite so amazing as we were last year – I’d like to say we just weren’t “on” that day, but I think that, in reality, there were more actually good players playing than there were last year.  Although I did sustain injuries – Dad whacked me in the back of the head with a football (and they blamed me for having my back turned… puh-lease) as well as ending up on the ground with a healthy covering of mud (they said it was my own fault since no one else was within ten feet of me… puh-lease).  But none of that hindered my ability to consume vast quantities of sweet potato surprise and corn pudding.

We have this haphazard tradition of Clue on Thanksgivings in my family, whether at Grandma’s or at home.  The ancient game upstairs in my grandparents’ house, that my mom and her siblings played all through their youth, and my cousins and I played all through ours, has many years’ worth of Thanksgiving greetings scrawled on the inside of the box lid.  My young cousins and siblings pulled it out to play with Andy Thanksgiving night, and I told Kiersten to make sure that she wrote “2009″ in the lid to commemorate yet another Thanksgiving game.

So, expanding the grand tradition, we had a Clue party the next evening at home.  Everyone had to dress up as the character that they were assigned.  Frank showed up in a green tie around his bare neck and one of Dad’s suit jackets, which fit him a little bit too well (he’s got to stop growing up!!!) as Mr. Green; Andy got a bit nauseous wearing Frank’s glasses as Prof. Plum; Beka donned her prettiest dress to be Miss Scarlett; etc.  But the crowning costume of the evening was my Dad as Colonel Mustard.  He showed up in a khaki suit with gray camo paint smeared all over his cheeks in perfect imitation of Colonel Mustard’s sideburns.  Fantastic!

On Saturday night we had our annual Ayers Family Tree Decorating Party.  Elizabeth wasn’t there, which was sad, but it was a great time nonetheless.  The candles were burning, Nat King Cole was playing, the ancient ornaments were laid out all over the living room floor.  Mom outdid herself again in snacks and food, with everything from fresh guacamole to cupcake sized, homemade, soft Reese’s peanut butter cups.  Frank guzzled the eggnog as usual, although I do suspect that he may have accidentally poured some from the whisky-infused bottle and not the kid-friendly version (not really, but I did tease him over his “hyperness”).  Afterwards, we all piled up on the living room couch with as many blankets as we could round up to stay up way too late and watch Jim Carrey’s The Grinch.

I hated to come back.  We will hopefully get our own tree up on Saturday to block out a little of the Philadelphia blackness outside my window.

 

november!

Time is rushing!  I can’t believe that Andy and I have already been plotting Christmas gifts.  Some days I still think that it’s summer… especially when we have to turn on our air conditioning on Halloween.  Kind of sad, huh?  It’s just been so warm and humid that, combined with the heat all the little elderly folk in our building insist on having run full blast, there’s no other way to cool the apartment down.

Andy and I have some fun things to look forward to this month.  We celebrated his grandfather’s 91st birthday this past weekend.  My mom and littlest siblings are coming to stay this weekend; and after that, three of my good girlfriends from college are coming to have our annual winter girls’ weekend together.  Then comes a potential visit from Peter and Kerrie… and then Thanksgiving!  And… I am really excited about this… Pioneer Woman is coming to Philadelphia on December 11!  I just might swoon.  I’m not the gushing type, but I’m a little worried I might dissolve into ecstastic repetitions of adoration while getting my cookbook signed.  Either that, or just stare in wonder.

It’s just the way the holidays should be – full of family, friends, entertaining and fun.  And Pioneer Woman.

 

Lemon Garlic Chicken Soup

I made something recently that I’d like to share with you.  They always say that chicken soup is “for the soul” and all that whatever, but I’ve never been the biggest fan… until my good friend Anna shared this recipe with me.  Now I can’t make chicken soup any other way.  

I tweaked the recipe just a little bit to serve my own purposes.  It is so good and it is far better than normal chicken soup for any cold or upset stomach because the lemon and garlic are both purifying agents.

• 2 cups leftover chicken, shredded
• 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 2 large carrots, sliced
• 1 smallish onion, diced
• 8-10 cloves garlic
• 10 cups chicken broth
• 1-2 cups farfallini or other soup pasta
• juice and zest of one lemon

Heat oil in a heavy pot and saute garlic and onions until they are yellow from the oil (2 minutes or so).  Add carrots and saute until crisp-tender.  Add chicken broth, bring to a boil and then simmer for 15-20 minutes to let the garlic come out.  Add farfallini (more if you like a thick soup, less if, like me, you like a brothy soup).  Simmer for about 5-7 minutes, then stir in lemon zest, lemon juice, and chicken.  Simmer until it is all incorporated and well blended.  Season with salt and pepper if necessary.

**You can add two handfuls of spinach towards the end and just simmer till bright green but not wilted.  You’ll probably need to thin the soup with more broth if you add this

 

the mundane details of life

I have been posting a lot about food and other randomness lately, and not much about what is going on with us.  Well, our life has pretty much exploded lately!  On one hand, we’ve been home a lot more than normal.  We were wondering why our household costs have been going up so much and we realized it is because we are always here, rather than spending every weekend away (although our weekends still have been quite busy).  

But on the other hand, work has been really busy for both of us.  Andy is working two part-time jobs, interning, and finishing up classes and I have never, ever had such a busy season in my job as I have had since mid-August.  About once a week I feel that I’ve hit a plateau and can relax a little bit… and then about an hour later another mudslide happens and I’m heading uphill once again.  I really am enjoying my job more than ever, but it is tiring.

In this season of our lives, the best thing we have done for ourselves is to invest in Netflix.  I know it sounds kind of pathetic, but we really love our constant movie supply!!!  By late evening we’re talked out, read out, worked out, thought out, chore-d out and it’s really nice to have something to do that involves little or no effort.  It gives us a restful way to be together, and something for me to do when Andy’s out that doesn’t involve baking sugary foods.

With netflix, I can take a risk on a movie that might be awful just because it’s not going to cost me any more or less.  So I’ve been stepping out of my movie comfort zone a bit and as a result, I’ve fallen in love with indie movies.  Two particular favorites recently were Away We Go with John Krasinski and Little Miss Sunshine with Steve Carell.  Not that I exactly recommend these movies to anyone – they tend to have a lot of foulness in the desire to be “edgy” – but they also tend to be way more thoughtful and intriguing than a lot of Hollywood movies, often exploring the ideas of marriage, family, grief, etc..  It is also interesting culturally to watch where the secular mind ends up without God in the picture.  It’s that darn sociologist in me that won’t go away…  Wonder where I got that from?  :)

 

Lasagna Pizza

I have a confession, embarrassing for a cook.  Basically, for most of my life, I had a hyper concern that all foods, herbs and spices harbor frightening, scientific properties that will cause them to react with one another upon heating, chilling… or merely touching one another… that could prove deadly, unless managed by recipes that allow you to interact with and consume food in relative safety.

Basically, I couldn’t mix up recipes, because I thought it might kill me.

I have almost entirely overcome this problem since I got married.  It has been quite liberating, actually, adding and omitting elements of a recipe at will just to appease my own tastebuds.

The main area that I still find a bit nervewracking, I will admit, is in spices and herbs.  I hear these vague things like vanilla is deadly in large quantities and suddenly I analyze how much vanilla makes it into each cookie in a batch and calculate how many I can eat without ODing and ending up on the floor.  It usually proves a very effective portion control method.

But I’m learning.  Granted, there was that one time that I misread a recipe when company was coming, added 5 teaspoons of ground ginger to my teriyaki chicken and couldn’t eat it once dinner rolled around because SOMEONE had to be alive to drive everyone else to the hospital… but we’re getting there, one dash of chipotle powder at a time.

In the end, my historically bland pizzas have experienced as much liberation as my soul has.  And today, home late from work, tired, cranky, with a tired, cranky husband and a fridge full of leftover lasagna ingredients, I knew just what to do.

To start, stretch out your pizza dough (I am highly partial to Trader Joe’s 99-cent dough .  Mix half a tub of ricotta with 1/4 cup parmesan cheese, some garlic powder, salt, lots of black pepper, sweet basil, and oregano.  Spread thickly on the dough.  Follow with tomato sauce and finish generously with mozzarella.  Bake at 400 for… well, until it’s done.  This would be good with Italian sausage, to further the “lasagna” idea!

 

october wind

I walked out onto the porch after work, emerging from a lemon-scented clorox cloud, and the air smelled, for the very very first time, like fall.  I just noted yesterday that the air smelled fresh; it felt a bit chilly; but it didn’t have that kick in the undertone that makes your lungs feel cleansed.  The temperature was the same today; but that little whisper of winter was there, just in the way that it smelled.  I just let it fill my lungs as I headed home.

My dad did a study once in grad school that concluded that smell is not nearly so significant a trigger of memory as many would like to think.  But maybe it just triggers memory in a special way.  I’d like to think that a smell triggers an emotional memory.  That when you smell something, you remember feelings attached to that smell, and vague related pleasant images, rather than the event.  For hours after I stepped into the fall wind, everything felt different.  My lamps felt warm instead of dim; making dinner late felt homey instead of frantic; my apartment felt like home.

In a few short hours, it will be October.  October is my favorite month.  Some of the very best times of my life have been in October; and some of the very worst times of my life have been in October.  It’s a time for strong emotion, for the deep things and for extremes.  Everything in October comes with a bite.  It’s a time for hot ovens and cold nights, for loving intensely, for falling apart, for filling foods, crunchy leaves and for going home.

 

i like to eat whatever i feel like.

I always sign up to bring foods to parties and lunches and end up bringing completely the wrong thing even though in my mind it was a very logical progression from one to the other.  For example, I was supposed to bring sun dried tomato bread with a sun dried tomato spread once.  I showed up with eggplant caponata and red pepper gorgonzola dip.  To me, it was perfectly all right – they were all red spreads, right?  No.

In keeping with this habit, I was supposed to bring muesli bars to a grains-themed work lunch tomorrow in order to add a bit of nutrition to a menu mostly made up of rice krispy treats.  What is in my oven right now?  Oatmeal cookies.  

But you know, the muesli bar recipes were hard to find, so I switched to regular granola bars, but didn’t have all the healthy stuff necessary, like wheat germ… and then I got distracted looking at oat recipes, and then oatmeal cookies… and I found a recipe and started throwing stuff in a bowl… and voila.  But if it makes us both feel any better, the recipe called for granola instead of oats, and then I added dried fruits and nuts and some extra flour and pressed them into a pan so they look a little bit more like what I was supposed to bring.

Here’s the recipe, it smells delicious:

• 1 cup softened butter
• 3/4 cup white sugar
• 3/4 cup packed brown sugar
• 1 egg
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 1 3/4 cups flour
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 3/4 cups granola with raisins
• 2/3 cup chocolate chips
• 1/2 cup sliced almonds
• 2/3 cup dried cranberries (I’m lying on the measurements for these last three things, I just dumped as much as looked delicious to me)

Cream butter and sugar (I like to do this by hand and then tick it off on the calendar as a “worked out” day).  Add egg and vanilla, beating well.  Sift together dry ingredients and stir into wet until combined.  Add in granola.  Add chocolate, almonds and cranberries and then fold like crazy because it will be like trail mix!  Press into a non-greased pan and bake at 375.  I had no preconceived notions as to the time and just let them bake till nice and brown and done… it took 25 minutes for a relatively thick cookie, er, muesli bar.

 

adrenaline

Do you ever have one of those nights where you’re up most of the night fretting, but then the next day you have enough energy to run a marathon?  Well, the adrenaline is kicking in here in Leahland and I just motormouthed my way through dinner until Andy finally kicked me away from the table to sit on the couch and try to chill a bit.  I don’t think I’ve had one coherent thought all day (which didn’t bode well for taking faculty meeting minutes, especially when they start minutely debating the finer points of registrar academic progress qualitative requirements).

Well, since there isn’t much to say but yet I just can’t seem to stop talking, here is a brief glimpse into some of the thoughts frenetically running through my mind today.  And if you have any answers, it would bring me great joy.

• How do I currently feel about camping?
• Are garbanzo beans related to sweet peas?
• Do garbanzo beans count as a vegetable?
• I hope that there are baked falafels and tzatziki sauce in heaven.
• Should it be written Master of Arts in Religion or Master of Arts (Religion) and does it matter what it says on the diploma or is there a quantitative difference?
• Vanilla Noir is my new favorite Bath and Body Works scent.
• Today is the last day of summer, but I had my first pumpkin spice latte over a week ago.
• This is just the CUTEST stuff in the world… especially the cookies!
• I’m really sad that I finally came to the end of the Twilight Saga but I’m really embarrassed to admit it.
• Does it make a difference that you bake potatoes for Baked Potato Soup and that you boil them for Potato Soup?  Or is it all in the mix-ins?
• Was yesterday Rosh Hashanah?  Yom Kippur?  Anything?
• Why does one choose one synagogue over another?  Are they like OPC vs. PCA, PCA vs. PCUSA, PCUSA vs. Lutheran, Lutheran vs. Pentecostal?
• I get a new office next week.  It has a fireplace and everything and it is going to be SWEET.
• Who is this Muse band and what are they all about?
• How often is too often to have a pumpkin spice latte?