Thursday, May 1, 2008
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Preschool
You will notice that I have not commented on the preschool open house we went to this weekend.
It was great.
I don't want to talk about it.
I can't.
It was great.
I don't want to talk about it.
I can't.
The Best Chocolate Chip Cookies Ever
I'm biased because they're my Bammie's recipe (Gommie's mom--yep, weird names on that side of the family.)
We made them yesterday in honor of Gommie.
And for once, Sis ate more cookies than dough!
That's an unqualified success.
Just don't ask me a). why there is a teaspoon of hot water or b). how she got 100 cookies from a dough that I can only make 60 with!!!!
Note: bags of chocolate chips used to be 14 oz!!!! 12 works fine too.
-=-=-=-=
We made them yesterday in honor of Gommie.
And for once, Sis ate more cookies than dough!
That's an unqualified success.
Just don't ask me a). why there is a teaspoon of hot water or b). how she got 100 cookies from a dough that I can only make 60 with!!!!
Note: bags of chocolate chips used to be 14 oz!!!! 12 works fine too.
-=-=-=-=
Mom’s Mom’s Chocolate Chip Cookies
The best-ever moist and chewy chocolate chip cookie. I’ve been making these for years—they can be individual cookies or one large cookie (with chocolate chips sprinkled and spread for frosting, which we’ve served at our holiday parties). These were the first cookie I made with Mama and I then taught her brother how to make them (how to make any cookies with the double spoon method, the triple tray method, etc.—they don’t have an oven) But it never makes 100!
Makes 100
1 ½ cup sifted flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup shortening
¾ cup brown sugar (firmly packed)
¾ cup granulated sugar
2 eggs (Eggbeaters also work)
1 teaspoon hot water
1 cup nuts
2 cups oatmeal (quick or regular; uncooked—old fashioned regular are best)
1 teaspoon vanilla
14 oz. chocolate chips
Cream shortening until soft. Add sugars gradually, cream until light and fluffy. Add eggs (1 at a time), beating after each. Add vanilla and hot water. Sift in dry ingredients. Add nuts, oatmeal, and chocolate chips. Bake at 375°F for 8 minutes.
Bammie
Pomp and Circumstance
I graduated from PT today. I feel better than I have in the 10 weeks since the flare-ups began, though not quite as strong as before that. But I'm getting there and it was a good time to transition to "wellness," which allows me to use the PT place as a gym, with the therapists there to answer questions or suggest other stretches and exercises.
In truth, my reactions to this last day of therapy was very mixed. I was excited to pick-up my wellness enrollment forms, but then cried in the car from relief. And fear. It's been a long road since I threw out my back last summer and started therapy for that and my diastasis (torn abdominal muscles) in the fall. The last 10 weeks--after 5 weeks of constant reinjury--have been the hardest. I've learned so much about myself and my body, some discouraging, some enlightening, most revelatory, like why the hems of my skirts are never straight, why I can't do certain yoga moves involving balance, why I've always limped. But also that I'm a good starter and a lazy finisher.
Which is why it's amazing that I'm finished with therapy. In fact, after the last "road to wellness," I didn't do anything to celebrate today, not sure it would actually happen (I'm going to get cupcakes to take to my first wellness visit on Monday). For awhile, it felt like I would be in it forever (I'm sure my friends thought so, with the way I'd mention it constantly). It was comfortable, which is probably exactly why it's good that I'm done. But I'm scared--what if I hurt again? Is this the best I will be? It's really coming face-to-face with a chronic problem, one that promises (possibly) arthritis in my hips, orthotics, and who knows what else. What I do know is that I need to keep strengthening my core and that will help all manner of things. I can't fix the dysplasia or diastasis but I can lessen their impact.
So, in the end, it's been a great six months. I've learned so much, gotten stronger, and made some great friends.
And I guess, I hope, with those three things, I am ready to move onto the next phase.
"Wellness" sounds good.
In truth, my reactions to this last day of therapy was very mixed. I was excited to pick-up my wellness enrollment forms, but then cried in the car from relief. And fear. It's been a long road since I threw out my back last summer and started therapy for that and my diastasis (torn abdominal muscles) in the fall. The last 10 weeks--after 5 weeks of constant reinjury--have been the hardest. I've learned so much about myself and my body, some discouraging, some enlightening, most revelatory, like why the hems of my skirts are never straight, why I can't do certain yoga moves involving balance, why I've always limped. But also that I'm a good starter and a lazy finisher.
Which is why it's amazing that I'm finished with therapy. In fact, after the last "road to wellness," I didn't do anything to celebrate today, not sure it would actually happen (I'm going to get cupcakes to take to my first wellness visit on Monday). For awhile, it felt like I would be in it forever (I'm sure my friends thought so, with the way I'd mention it constantly). It was comfortable, which is probably exactly why it's good that I'm done. But I'm scared--what if I hurt again? Is this the best I will be? It's really coming face-to-face with a chronic problem, one that promises (possibly) arthritis in my hips, orthotics, and who knows what else. What I do know is that I need to keep strengthening my core and that will help all manner of things. I can't fix the dysplasia or diastasis but I can lessen their impact.
So, in the end, it's been a great six months. I've learned so much, gotten stronger, and made some great friends.
And I guess, I hope, with those three things, I am ready to move onto the next phase.
"Wellness" sounds good.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Time Flies
It was less than two weeks ago that we knew Gommie was coming. It was less than a week ago that she came. And now she's heading home.
We had a great week.
We shopped at a local market, picking up a cart full of produce, which we almost managed to finish while Gommie was here--baked spaghetti squash, zucchini fries, salad, mashed potatoes, sweet potato fries, and tomatoes straight from the packet.
We had two picnics in different parks, enjoying sandwiches and strawberries, slides and swings, and the wonderful spring weather. Buddy liked throwing dandelions into the pond and thought it was funny that a duck kept trying to eat them. Sis mastered the up-and-down bridge.
We visited our new school and went to a fun birthday party. We shopped for clothes and ate ice cream at the dairy farm. We had new haircuts, with Sis in the taxi cab chair and Bud in the police car chair. Everyone likes the haircuts--"he's such a boy," "she's just like a doll." Oh, well.
We went to Old Sturbridge Village, where Sis loved to ride in the horse-drawn wagon and Buddy loved listening (and dancing) to fife and flute music. We churned butter (and tried some) and planted cranberry bean seeds. And I learned how to yarn sew. We tried on costumes and played house.
In the mornings, Gommie woke the kids up with "You are my Sunshine" and at night she bathed them, read stories, and tucked them in with a kiss and our family handshake. They often played outside on the "pirate ship" and made "fairy pools" with the (very cold) water from the swimming pool. Buddy did lots of counting and Sis "baked" numerous pies. There was dancing, skipping, chase, hide-and-go seek, and many renditions of "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious," "East Side, West Side (Sidewalks of New York)," "Let's Go Fly a Kite," and other Gommie standards.
Gommie marveled at all the talking. Buddy likes to say, "Wait a second" and "sure;" Sis likes to give specific instructions. Sis is a climber; Buddy is a dancer. Gommie noted, "They sure like to test you." Luckily, there were not too many fights nor too many timeouts. There were lots of hugs and cuddles and "uppy-ups." We talked to Pop everyday and also to Aunt Banana.
There were date nights, help with yard work and laundry and dishes, lots of downtime, free babysitting, lots of Starbucks, and many gifts of toys, books, and clothes. Good conversations too--about weddings, visits, family, compassion, listening, books, the economy, and politics. We bought our tickets for our summer trip for my sister's wedding and measured the kids for their special clothes.
And we took pictures of it all.
Goodbye, Gommie. And thanks for a wonderful week!
-=-=-=-=-
Oven-Fried Zucchini Sticks
1/2 cup Italian bread crumbs
2 tablespoons Parmesan cheese, freshly grated
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
3 medium zucchini
water or milk
1 cup fat-free or low-fat spaghetti sauce
cooking spray
Preheat oven to 450°F. Spray cookie sheet with cooking spray.
Place bread crumbs, cheese, and garlic powder in Ziploc bag and shake well to combine all ingredients. Set aside.
Cut each zucchini lengthwise into 8 pieces; cut each piece again in half lengthwise. Fil a pie plate with water; then dip each zucchini stick first in water, then into bag of crumb mixture. Shake until zucchini are coated on all sides. Place on cookie sheet. Repeat with rest of sticks.
Bake on cookie sheet for 10-15 minutes or until brown and tender. Serve with warm spaghetti sauce.
Note: Use 1 medium eggplant, sliced into thin rounds, instead of zucchini.
Eating Expectantly
And if these directions don't make sense (which I'm not sure they do), get to Old Sturbridge Village and pay $5 at their Hands-On Craft Building--it's fun! And you get to take it all home to finish.
We had a great week.
We shopped at a local market, picking up a cart full of produce, which we almost managed to finish while Gommie was here--baked spaghetti squash, zucchini fries, salad, mashed potatoes, sweet potato fries, and tomatoes straight from the packet.
We had two picnics in different parks, enjoying sandwiches and strawberries, slides and swings, and the wonderful spring weather. Buddy liked throwing dandelions into the pond and thought it was funny that a duck kept trying to eat them. Sis mastered the up-and-down bridge.
We visited our new school and went to a fun birthday party. We shopped for clothes and ate ice cream at the dairy farm. We had new haircuts, with Sis in the taxi cab chair and Bud in the police car chair. Everyone likes the haircuts--"he's such a boy," "she's just like a doll." Oh, well.
We went to Old Sturbridge Village, where Sis loved to ride in the horse-drawn wagon and Buddy loved listening (and dancing) to fife and flute music. We churned butter (and tried some) and planted cranberry bean seeds. And I learned how to yarn sew. We tried on costumes and played house.
In the mornings, Gommie woke the kids up with "You are my Sunshine" and at night she bathed them, read stories, and tucked them in with a kiss and our family handshake. They often played outside on the "pirate ship" and made "fairy pools" with the (very cold) water from the swimming pool. Buddy did lots of counting and Sis "baked" numerous pies. There was dancing, skipping, chase, hide-and-go seek, and many renditions of "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious," "East Side, West Side (Sidewalks of New York)," "Let's Go Fly a Kite," and other Gommie standards.
Gommie marveled at all the talking. Buddy likes to say, "Wait a second" and "sure;" Sis likes to give specific instructions. Sis is a climber; Buddy is a dancer. Gommie noted, "They sure like to test you." Luckily, there were not too many fights nor too many timeouts. There were lots of hugs and cuddles and "uppy-ups." We talked to Pop everyday and also to Aunt Banana.
There were date nights, help with yard work and laundry and dishes, lots of downtime, free babysitting, lots of Starbucks, and many gifts of toys, books, and clothes. Good conversations too--about weddings, visits, family, compassion, listening, books, the economy, and politics. We bought our tickets for our summer trip for my sister's wedding and measured the kids for their special clothes.
And we took pictures of it all.
Goodbye, Gommie. And thanks for a wonderful week!
-=-=-=-=-
Oven-Fried Zucchini Sticks
1/2 cup Italian bread crumbs
2 tablespoons Parmesan cheese, freshly grated
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
3 medium zucchini
water or milk
1 cup fat-free or low-fat spaghetti sauce
cooking spray
Preheat oven to 450°F. Spray cookie sheet with cooking spray.
Place bread crumbs, cheese, and garlic powder in Ziploc bag and shake well to combine all ingredients. Set aside.
Cut each zucchini lengthwise into 8 pieces; cut each piece again in half lengthwise. Fil a pie plate with water; then dip each zucchini stick first in water, then into bag of crumb mixture. Shake until zucchini are coated on all sides. Place on cookie sheet. Repeat with rest of sticks.
Bake on cookie sheet for 10-15 minutes or until brown and tender. Serve with warm spaghetti sauce.
Note: Use 1 medium eggplant, sliced into thin rounds, instead of zucchini.
Eating Expectantly
Yarn Sewing
Supplies: 2 different color yarns, piece of fabric (I'm guessing about 18 count Aida), needle, heart-shaped cookie cutter, pencil, fabric glue
Seam the edges of your fabric (glue works). Trace the shape of the cookie cutter on the fabric seam-side up.
Tread your needle with about 18" of yarn for the interior of the heart. Working along the edge, make stitches perpendicular to the line about 1/8" long (needle should never end up on underside of fabric--I think this is a whipstitch??) . Catch tail of yarn under stitches (as in cross stitch). Leave a loop by not pulling yarn all the way through. Every 3-4 stitches, use needles to adjust size of stitches so they are all the same. Continue until you fill in the heart. Use the other color to work the outside of the heart (you can follow the contour of the heart, create lines, even using a staggered running stitch for a more varied look). You will work over the seam.
And if these directions don't make sense (which I'm not sure they do), get to Old Sturbridge Village and pay $5 at their Hands-On Craft Building--it's fun! And you get to take it all home to finish.
Whale of a Tale
After dropping Gommie off at the train station, we went for a drive in the rain to see the ocean.
Admiring the big waves, Buddy said, "A whale made the big waves. A big whale."
I suggested that maybe it was lots of whales.
And Sis suggested they were humpbacks.
So we sat there watching the humpback whale waves.
Admiring the big waves, Buddy said, "A whale made the big waves. A big whale."
I suggested that maybe it was lots of whales.
And Sis suggested they were humpbacks.
So we sat there watching the humpback whale waves.
Bittersweet
It's been another rough week for various friends of ours--goodbyes, deaths, sadnesses. And today's dreary weather, while matching the mood of many, doesn't help.
For my own part, my mom left today to go back to Texas. It's always hard to say goodbye, but it gets harder now that the kids understand.
Or partially understand. Because as Gommie's train left--yes, Gommie, we were in the parking lot watching because they wanted to see you get on the train--Sis just said, "Okay, we'll see her tomorrow then."
It'll be a lot of tomorrows.
Hugs to everyone this week. Hopefully the sun will shine soon.
For my own part, my mom left today to go back to Texas. It's always hard to say goodbye, but it gets harder now that the kids understand.
Or partially understand. Because as Gommie's train left--yes, Gommie, we were in the parking lot watching because they wanted to see you get on the train--Sis just said, "Okay, we'll see her tomorrow then."
It'll be a lot of tomorrows.
Hugs to everyone this week. Hopefully the sun will shine soon.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Of Seders and Oranges
Our Seder was last weekend, an annual event on our church's calendar. I had never been to a Seder before going to our church's a few years ago and I still wonder how different a real one is (though, finding the quintessential Seder would be about as easy as finding the typical Christmas, no doubt--everyone does it a little differently).
But I'm always so impressed by the structure of the Seder, particularly the Haggadah (which for those of you who have never been to a Seder is the text which is read at and which organizes the evening--there are hundreds of different ones, with different stresses and themes). The Haggadah we used this year was compiled by our director of religious education and included all the usual, I assume, readings and songs--from the Four Questions about how and why Passover is celebrated, to the opening of the door for Elijah, the drinking of water from Miriam's cup, the dots of wine for the 10 plagues, the eating of parsley and bitter herbs and boiled eggs and matzahs in haroset (depending on your background, an apple/honey/walnut or apricot/almond/citrus mixture), the hiding and go seeking of the afikoman, and the singing of Daiyenu and Let My People Go. And, of course, the oranges, in honor of gay and lesbian rights, from when one of the earliest ordained woman rabbis was shouted down with, "A woman belongs in the pulpit like an orange belongs on the Seder plate!" The focus was specifically peace, freedom, and justice, in keeping with the UU principles. But it was short (only about 40 minutes beginning to end) and easy for newbies to understand.
Here is a ritual--a dinner, or two (some families have Seders the first two nights of Passover--can you imagine doing Christmas twice? Oh, the preparations!)--designed primarily to educate the young in their faith--to school them in the meanings of their traditions and in their history. I can't think of a Christian holiday that has education as its central focus. In fact, I have trouble imagining a Christian holiday that is still, well, Christian. Imagine if most families celebrated Christmas, or Easter, based on its religious meaning? I can't even fathom how we would connect Easter Bunnies to the crucifixion (yes, yes, I know about the appropriation of pagan symbols) or Christmas presents to the nativity (because it's all gotten beyond a few gifts to the baby Jesus). But the way we celebrate these holidays today has nothing to do with passing along a religious tradition, faith, or dogma. Don't get me wrong, I love the way our family celebrates--it's very much about passing along a family tradition, and, at least in our house, conveniently not about Christianity at all.
Even looking at secular holidays--4th of July, Memorial Day, Labor Day--the meaning of those is forgotten or lost amid their modern-day trappings (picnics and sales, primarily). We don't really talk about the Revolutionary War or Armistice Day anymore. And when we do focus on the history and meaning of a holiday--Thanksgiving--we get it all wrong with Pilgrims and Indians.
And so, I like sitting down at a meal with friends and being reminded of the history of a tradition, even if it's not one of my traditions and it's not specifically my cultural history. There are lessons in it for everyone.
And so I'm making this tradition one of ours, complete with oranges.
-=-=-=-=
Ivy's Noodle "Coogle"
12 oz medium width noodles, cooked and drained
1/2 cup small curd cottage cheese
4 eggs, beaten
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 large package cream cheese (8 oz)
2 cups hot milk
3/4 cup sugar
1 stick butter, melted in milk
3/4 cup or more Frosted Flake or other cereal, crushed
Preheat oven to 350F.
Place noodles in 9 x 13 pan. Beat together all remaining ingredients. Pour over noodles. Cover "coogle" with topping. Bake for 1 hour. May be served hot, warm, or cold.
Lowfat substitutions will work (but if you change everything it will taste different)
But I'm always so impressed by the structure of the Seder, particularly the Haggadah (which for those of you who have never been to a Seder is the text which is read at and which organizes the evening--there are hundreds of different ones, with different stresses and themes). The Haggadah we used this year was compiled by our director of religious education and included all the usual, I assume, readings and songs--from the Four Questions about how and why Passover is celebrated, to the opening of the door for Elijah, the drinking of water from Miriam's cup, the dots of wine for the 10 plagues, the eating of parsley and bitter herbs and boiled eggs and matzahs in haroset (depending on your background, an apple/honey/walnut or apricot/almond/citrus mixture), the hiding and go seeking of the afikoman, and the singing of Daiyenu and Let My People Go. And, of course, the oranges, in honor of gay and lesbian rights, from when one of the earliest ordained woman rabbis was shouted down with, "A woman belongs in the pulpit like an orange belongs on the Seder plate!" The focus was specifically peace, freedom, and justice, in keeping with the UU principles. But it was short (only about 40 minutes beginning to end) and easy for newbies to understand.
Here is a ritual--a dinner, or two (some families have Seders the first two nights of Passover--can you imagine doing Christmas twice? Oh, the preparations!)--designed primarily to educate the young in their faith--to school them in the meanings of their traditions and in their history. I can't think of a Christian holiday that has education as its central focus. In fact, I have trouble imagining a Christian holiday that is still, well, Christian. Imagine if most families celebrated Christmas, or Easter, based on its religious meaning? I can't even fathom how we would connect Easter Bunnies to the crucifixion (yes, yes, I know about the appropriation of pagan symbols) or Christmas presents to the nativity (because it's all gotten beyond a few gifts to the baby Jesus). But the way we celebrate these holidays today has nothing to do with passing along a religious tradition, faith, or dogma. Don't get me wrong, I love the way our family celebrates--it's very much about passing along a family tradition, and, at least in our house, conveniently not about Christianity at all.
Even looking at secular holidays--4th of July, Memorial Day, Labor Day--the meaning of those is forgotten or lost amid their modern-day trappings (picnics and sales, primarily). We don't really talk about the Revolutionary War or Armistice Day anymore. And when we do focus on the history and meaning of a holiday--Thanksgiving--we get it all wrong with Pilgrims and Indians.
And so, I like sitting down at a meal with friends and being reminded of the history of a tradition, even if it's not one of my traditions and it's not specifically my cultural history. There are lessons in it for everyone.
And so I'm making this tradition one of ours, complete with oranges.
-=-=-=-=
Ivy's Noodle "Coogle"
12 oz medium width noodles, cooked and drained
1/2 cup small curd cottage cheese
4 eggs, beaten
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 large package cream cheese (8 oz)
2 cups hot milk
3/4 cup sugar
1 stick butter, melted in milk
3/4 cup or more Frosted Flake or other cereal, crushed
Preheat oven to 350F.
Place noodles in 9 x 13 pan. Beat together all remaining ingredients. Pour over noodles. Cover "coogle" with topping. Bake for 1 hour. May be served hot, warm, or cold.
Lowfat substitutions will work (but if you change everything it will taste different)
Chocopologie
We had another date night and it was as if I walked into the pages of one of my food magazines or onto a Food Network special. Mama had heard of this cafe in SoNo that focuses on chocolate, Chocopologie, and we decided to go for date night with Gommie babysitting.Just reading the menu online had us salivating and restricting our food intake for days before the date. And I fully intended to have dessert for all my courses. And I did.
Chocopologie is in the cutesy urban area of SoNo that is trying so hard to be Connecticut's version of hip NYC. It's young, lots of restaurants, loud music--but so clean, lacking in traffic or car horn sounds or sirens, and devoid of curiously questionable people that you would never mistake it for the real thing. I'd say it was safe but with so few people off the main part of Main Street, I doubt it's as safe as Time Square at midnight. The restaurant itself has a several tables upfront, the counter, and a long gallery for viewing chocolate production during the day. I'm not sure what you'd call the decor--it's some kind of chic, but not ultra-modern. I'm not up on decor terminology.
But I can describe the food. Which is funny, because my first dish--chocolate truffle beignets--left me speechless. These hot doughnuts came out with a fondue fork, but the batter wasn't chocolate as I'd expected, but regular Cafe Du Monde dough--only filled with melted chocolate. And something else. Was it honey? Nuts? A liqueur? I couldn't place it, so I asked. Pistachio. Pistachio truffle. They take one of their high-end truffles, wrap it in beignet mix, and fry it. I think it's the most amazing dessert I've ever had. Even Mama ate two of them and she's not a huge chocolate fan.
She was eating a croque monsieur with french fries. And truffle oil mayonnaise. Now, I will blow my cover as a foodie (which you'll remember I never claim to be--I'm not adventurous enough) when I say I've never had truffle anything before, of the fungal not cocoa variety. But I might be a convert. The earthiness mixed with the tartness of the mayo and the salty-crunchy of the fries was the perfect counterpoint to my chocolate.
Oh, and we were drinking chocolate too--Mama got a frozen hot chocolate. We've had one before, at Serendipity 3 in NYC--but that is a sweet sugary huge kid's version. This drink is the adult's version--dark chocolate flavor, not too much sugar, just the right size. Really quite perfect (even better slightly melted so that the ice isn't so obvious).
Then we moved on to dessert! What they call the chocolate love--a plate with four small chocolate desserts--a rich, flavorful and not bitter chocolate ice cream; a warm "molten" chocolate cake; a delicious chocolate mousse that was so smooth it was almost chocolate butter; and a chocolate Napoleon with little florentine cookies and ganache (the chewy cookies overwhelmed the ganache and were the night's weakest point). Wow.
Then--and I know you're thinking, "then?!"--I had their Chocopologie coffee with lavender foam. It was like eating Provence. I eventually just spooned the foam off the top, too full to drink the mocha coffee (even though it was delicious too). I just couldn't believe the foam. I'm sure it's just lavender-steeped milk made frothy but it was the essence of lavender. Though it's no molecular gastronomic trick, I couldn't help think of Ferran Adria and the foams you hear about.
So, we ended the night by purchasing a t-shirt, which I am wearing right now that says "Chocolate Lover" (and which I had the audacity to wear to my WW weigh-in today, which could've been worse but wasn't good), and several truffles to indulge in over the next several nights--rosewater, lemon, Grand Marnier, orange rum, pistachio, violet.
We even got the babysitter a little something!
Chocopologie is in the cutesy urban area of SoNo that is trying so hard to be Connecticut's version of hip NYC. It's young, lots of restaurants, loud music--but so clean, lacking in traffic or car horn sounds or sirens, and devoid of curiously questionable people that you would never mistake it for the real thing. I'd say it was safe but with so few people off the main part of Main Street, I doubt it's as safe as Time Square at midnight. The restaurant itself has a several tables upfront, the counter, and a long gallery for viewing chocolate production during the day. I'm not sure what you'd call the decor--it's some kind of chic, but not ultra-modern. I'm not up on decor terminology.
But I can describe the food. Which is funny, because my first dish--chocolate truffle beignets--left me speechless. These hot doughnuts came out with a fondue fork, but the batter wasn't chocolate as I'd expected, but regular Cafe Du Monde dough--only filled with melted chocolate. And something else. Was it honey? Nuts? A liqueur? I couldn't place it, so I asked. Pistachio. Pistachio truffle. They take one of their high-end truffles, wrap it in beignet mix, and fry it. I think it's the most amazing dessert I've ever had. Even Mama ate two of them and she's not a huge chocolate fan.
She was eating a croque monsieur with french fries. And truffle oil mayonnaise. Now, I will blow my cover as a foodie (which you'll remember I never claim to be--I'm not adventurous enough) when I say I've never had truffle anything before, of the fungal not cocoa variety. But I might be a convert. The earthiness mixed with the tartness of the mayo and the salty-crunchy of the fries was the perfect counterpoint to my chocolate.
Oh, and we were drinking chocolate too--Mama got a frozen hot chocolate. We've had one before, at Serendipity 3 in NYC--but that is a sweet sugary huge kid's version. This drink is the adult's version--dark chocolate flavor, not too much sugar, just the right size. Really quite perfect (even better slightly melted so that the ice isn't so obvious).
Then we moved on to dessert! What they call the chocolate love--a plate with four small chocolate desserts--a rich, flavorful and not bitter chocolate ice cream; a warm "molten" chocolate cake; a delicious chocolate mousse that was so smooth it was almost chocolate butter; and a chocolate Napoleon with little florentine cookies and ganache (the chewy cookies overwhelmed the ganache and were the night's weakest point). Wow.
Then--and I know you're thinking, "then?!"--I had their Chocopologie coffee with lavender foam. It was like eating Provence. I eventually just spooned the foam off the top, too full to drink the mocha coffee (even though it was delicious too). I just couldn't believe the foam. I'm sure it's just lavender-steeped milk made frothy but it was the essence of lavender. Though it's no molecular gastronomic trick, I couldn't help think of Ferran Adria and the foams you hear about.
So, we ended the night by purchasing a t-shirt, which I am wearing right now that says "Chocolate Lover" (and which I had the audacity to wear to my WW weigh-in today, which could've been worse but wasn't good), and several truffles to indulge in over the next several nights--rosewater, lemon, Grand Marnier, orange rum, pistachio, violet.
We even got the babysitter a little something!
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Language and Perception
There is an article in this week's NYTimes about colors, language, and perception, and I was fascinated to learn that English is one of the few languages to distinguish between blue and green. For instance, apparently, Russians do light and dark blues but not green. (Is this like the word "snow" and the Inuits, with all their names for it, except one word like "snow" since they perceive it as different precipitation when we do not??)
In our Chinese class we learned blue yesterday, "lan se." We already knew green, "le se" (I think that's the Pinyin). "Se" is added to all the color names (unless the color is being used as an adjective, I think). So I guess they differentiate the colors too. Or has English influenced them?
Anyway, sometimes the kiddos get confused. Yesterday, Sis identified a tree as "green se" and the water as "blue se."
I'm fascinated by how they learn language, especially because they pronounce it better than I do, even if they are slower to remember new words.
We only need purple and then will have the whole rainbow!
(Hmmm, do people see the rainbow differently? Does the gay flag confuse the Russians?)
In our Chinese class we learned blue yesterday, "lan se." We already knew green, "le se" (I think that's the Pinyin). "Se" is added to all the color names (unless the color is being used as an adjective, I think). So I guess they differentiate the colors too. Or has English influenced them?
Anyway, sometimes the kiddos get confused. Yesterday, Sis identified a tree as "green se" and the water as "blue se."
I'm fascinated by how they learn language, especially because they pronounce it better than I do, even if they are slower to remember new words.
We only need purple and then will have the whole rainbow!
(Hmmm, do people see the rainbow differently? Does the gay flag confuse the Russians?)
It All Adds Up
As I've said, Buddy loves numbers. He was very excited at Chinese class yesterday when we got to count--he'll do it on his fingers, in English, and in Chinese.
But we went past five! It took awhile to explain the concept of seven--one hand of five plus one hand of two. But he got it and was fascinated. "What's six? What's eight?" We went through all the numbers up to ten and he spent the rest of the day saying "seven is five and two."
My goodness, the boy can add!
But we went past five! It took awhile to explain the concept of seven--one hand of five plus one hand of two. But he got it and was fascinated. "What's six? What's eight?" We went through all the numbers up to ten and he spent the rest of the day saying "seven is five and two."
My goodness, the boy can add!
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Blog Admin
Just a note to my faithful readers that Gommie is coming to town and so posts will probably be erratic or entirely absent until her departure on Monday. Not to worry, I'll be back.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Sleep Deprived
We're off again.
Buddy is sound asleep on the floor in a pile of loveys. He fell asleep after reading a story with Babysitter--just rolled over and fell asleep! Probably because he woke up at 6 a.m. ish, which is more than an hour earlier than usual.
See, they napped on Saturday on the way home from Mystic (that was lots of fun--Sis loved riding the horse-drawn carriage, while Buddy loved playing cook in the galley of the children's museum). Then they went to bed late, woke up early on Sunday, went to bed on time on Sunday, and woke up early on Monday. Just where we were last week at this time.
Except last Monday, as you will recall, was miserable and today was pretty good. In honor of No Television Week, we didn't watch a thing until rest time at 1 p.m., a near record for us. Instead, we played chase downstairs, we played hide and go seek upstairs, baked butterscotch cookies, played outside, and painted. Buddy really likes our Fairy House under the pine tree--today we added a magic circle of white rocks, a Fairy guardian (a fairy lawn decoration I had--black silhouette of a dancing fairy), and flowers. In fact, Sis and Buddy really enjoyed picking all the wild violets in our yard--"the best bouquet in the world!" (thank you, Franklin). Our motto, though, was leave some for tomorrow, which mainly worked. This afternoon, Babysitter was here while I went to PT and, well, now Buddy is asleep on the floor while dinner (meatloaf) cooks. Sis is awake, waiting for dinner, which means she'll be trying to fall asleep just as he wakes up.
So, tomorrow we'll be off again. But hopefully, it will be another good day like today.
Buddy is sound asleep on the floor in a pile of loveys. He fell asleep after reading a story with Babysitter--just rolled over and fell asleep! Probably because he woke up at 6 a.m. ish, which is more than an hour earlier than usual.
See, they napped on Saturday on the way home from Mystic (that was lots of fun--Sis loved riding the horse-drawn carriage, while Buddy loved playing cook in the galley of the children's museum). Then they went to bed late, woke up early on Sunday, went to bed on time on Sunday, and woke up early on Monday. Just where we were last week at this time.
Except last Monday, as you will recall, was miserable and today was pretty good. In honor of No Television Week, we didn't watch a thing until rest time at 1 p.m., a near record for us. Instead, we played chase downstairs, we played hide and go seek upstairs, baked butterscotch cookies, played outside, and painted. Buddy really likes our Fairy House under the pine tree--today we added a magic circle of white rocks, a Fairy guardian (a fairy lawn decoration I had--black silhouette of a dancing fairy), and flowers. In fact, Sis and Buddy really enjoyed picking all the wild violets in our yard--"the best bouquet in the world!" (thank you, Franklin). Our motto, though, was leave some for tomorrow, which mainly worked. This afternoon, Babysitter was here while I went to PT and, well, now Buddy is asleep on the floor while dinner (meatloaf) cooks. Sis is awake, waiting for dinner, which means she'll be trying to fall asleep just as he wakes up.
So, tomorrow we'll be off again. But hopefully, it will be another good day like today.
Number by Colors
Sis loves to organize things, as I think I've noted before. Right now, colors are her favorite common denominator. For example, she likes her plates, cups, and bowls to match, or at least be in the same color family. But more extreme, I found her organizing M&Ms by color the other day. We were putting them in Rice Krispie treats and I turned around and found a line of oranges, a line of reds, and so on. And that's not the only time it's happened: this morning, she picked flowers by color--first, the purple wild violets and then the white wild violets and then on to the yellow dandelions. She's partial to green and to purple but will organize by color regardless. Even when she's coloring. We were decorating a card for a woman at church and she pulled out all the shades of blue in the box and lined them up. I'd love to say she'd lined them up from darkest to lightest, but she didn't.
Yet.
(I was partial--and still am--to the rainbow. And no, it's not just a gay thing. I've loved rainbows for years. And didn't know the symbolism.)
Yet.
(I was partial--and still am--to the rainbow. And no, it's not just a gay thing. I've loved rainbows for years. And didn't know the symbolism.)
Inch by Inch
Our yard is a mess. I'm convinced the neighbors, whose lawns are immaculate--and poisonous, with large carbon footprints--bemoan the state of our yard. There are weeds, sticks, long grass, dead patches, untrimmed bushes, old leaves, toys.
I'm going to talk about all but the last one because I think toys are perfectly normally for any family's yard.
I don't particularly like yard work. It's the one thing I totally underestimated about owning a house. I don't like to get hot. I don't have the back to do a lot of picking up, weeding, or the like. I happen to like wild violets and dandelions and clover and ivy. And fall leaves. And bushes in natural shapes. We don't use any chemicals on the yard or plants. We don't waste resources by doing any watering of the grass. And I don't like the gas-powered lawn mower, with its noise, smell, and carbon footprint (our people-powered rotary lawn mower can't handle our bumpy and stick-strewn yard).
And this week in the paper I actually read a defense of my kind of yard. Kent Pierce, of Connecticut, a plant and pests expert, noted, “I’m 51, and I remember that for kids in the ’60s, lawns were really spectacular, interesting, amazing places. There were cool weeds, flowers, clover, dandelions. And there were butterflies.” Well, I'm a kid of the 70s, and while we had an interesting red berry bush in the backyard, it was mostly ChemLawn.
I aspire to an interesting yard. We already have several of those things (plus a great rock wall), including the butterflies--a yellow one was flitting around this morning. As was a great big bumblebee, several squirrels, a cardinal, a blue jay, two robins, and several sparrows. I haven't seen our little bunny in several months, or the turkeys, but I liked their visits (rumor has it there is a three-legged fox, but I haven't seen it). And we'll have more butterflies because I bought the kit where you order the larvae and grow, then release, your own. We just needs some more flowers for them.
Which takes us to gardening. I don't know how to garden. The plants we put in don't seem to survive our neglect or the winters. We have several patches of blossom-less tulips and daffodils. Though, some daylilies, which I was convinced weren't going to make it, seem to be coming back. Let's see if they bloom. And the hostas never go away. I don't like them much but they're hardy so we got some more from a friend.
And now everywhere I turn, I'm being encouraged to plant food. If I can't keep daffodils and tulips going, won't I kill lettuce and zucchini? I'm not even sure how to make seeds sprout. We stood in the seed section of the local store recently and were so overwhelmed and unsure that we left without buying anything. Michael Pollan's exhortation to plant a garden to combat climate change is a powerful idea, but now we need someone to take those of us with no garden experience (those of us who grew up in the immaculate lawns of the cheap-energy without guilt era) by the hand and help us out. We've looked at books but they are complicated and advanced. We're going to start small, with containers for a few vegetables.
We just need to start.
And mind you, while we focus on getting some food to grow, the rest of the yard will just become messier.
And I think that's great.
I'm going to talk about all but the last one because I think toys are perfectly normally for any family's yard.
I don't particularly like yard work. It's the one thing I totally underestimated about owning a house. I don't like to get hot. I don't have the back to do a lot of picking up, weeding, or the like. I happen to like wild violets and dandelions and clover and ivy. And fall leaves. And bushes in natural shapes. We don't use any chemicals on the yard or plants. We don't waste resources by doing any watering of the grass. And I don't like the gas-powered lawn mower, with its noise, smell, and carbon footprint (our people-powered rotary lawn mower can't handle our bumpy and stick-strewn yard).
And this week in the paper I actually read a defense of my kind of yard. Kent Pierce, of Connecticut, a plant and pests expert, noted, “I’m 51, and I remember that for kids in the ’60s, lawns were really spectacular, interesting, amazing places. There were cool weeds, flowers, clover, dandelions. And there were butterflies.” Well, I'm a kid of the 70s, and while we had an interesting red berry bush in the backyard, it was mostly ChemLawn.
I aspire to an interesting yard. We already have several of those things (plus a great rock wall), including the butterflies--a yellow one was flitting around this morning. As was a great big bumblebee, several squirrels, a cardinal, a blue jay, two robins, and several sparrows. I haven't seen our little bunny in several months, or the turkeys, but I liked their visits (rumor has it there is a three-legged fox, but I haven't seen it). And we'll have more butterflies because I bought the kit where you order the larvae and grow, then release, your own. We just needs some more flowers for them.
Which takes us to gardening. I don't know how to garden. The plants we put in don't seem to survive our neglect or the winters. We have several patches of blossom-less tulips and daffodils. Though, some daylilies, which I was convinced weren't going to make it, seem to be coming back. Let's see if they bloom. And the hostas never go away. I don't like them much but they're hardy so we got some more from a friend.
And now everywhere I turn, I'm being encouraged to plant food. If I can't keep daffodils and tulips going, won't I kill lettuce and zucchini? I'm not even sure how to make seeds sprout. We stood in the seed section of the local store recently and were so overwhelmed and unsure that we left without buying anything. Michael Pollan's exhortation to plant a garden to combat climate change is a powerful idea, but now we need someone to take those of us with no garden experience (those of us who grew up in the immaculate lawns of the cheap-energy without guilt era) by the hand and help us out. We've looked at books but they are complicated and advanced. We're going to start small, with containers for a few vegetables.
We just need to start.
And mind you, while we focus on getting some food to grow, the rest of the yard will just become messier.
And I think that's great.
Vote Update
We have one vote for Peanuts and two votes for Southern. So, today, I will try Southern nicknames out and see if I can live with them.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
New Nicknames
I'm considering changing the nicknames I use in my posts. Here are three possibilities. I'll let you vote, consider the results, and then probably stick with the cumbersome DD/DS/DP nomenclature. But let's give it a try. You may vote via comment or email.
Let the best nicknames win!
Peanuts
DD= Lucy
DS= Linus (apropos because of the loveys)
Mama=Peppermint Patty
Mommy=Marcy
Thomas the Train
DD=Rosie
DS=Thomas
Mommy=Mommy Hatt
Mama=Mama Hatt
Southern (I actually use these)
DD=Sis
DS=Buddy
Mama
Mommy
Let the best nicknames win!
Peanuts
DD= Lucy
DS= Linus (apropos because of the loveys)
Mama=Peppermint Patty
Mommy=Marcy
Thomas the Train
DD=Rosie
DS=Thomas
Mommy=Mommy Hatt
Mama=Mama Hatt
Southern (I actually use these)
DD=Sis
DS=Buddy
Mama
Mommy
Fun in the Spring
Here we are painting a picture. Together.
DS loves to vaccuum. Here he is feeding the dustbuster cheerios.
Enjoying the spring-like weather by swinging . . .
And baking "Mixed Berry Blueberry Pies." Together.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
We Apparently Have New Pet Bunnies
DD had the most bizarre dream last night. And we know because she told DP when she awoke from it last night.
At 11:30 ish, DD woke up calling for us. DP, designated night mama, went in. DS asked DP if she had food, an unusual request even if she didn't eat much dinner. She then said, "The bunnies want food."
DP tried to get her to put her head on her pillow, but DD said that there was food on her pillow. So, DP flipped it over and DS laid down.
This morning she reiterated that the bunnies didn't have food because they spilled it on her pillow.
Huh.
At 11:30 ish, DD woke up calling for us. DP, designated night mama, went in. DS asked DP if she had food, an unusual request even if she didn't eat much dinner. She then said, "The bunnies want food."
DP tried to get her to put her head on her pillow, but DD said that there was food on her pillow. So, DP flipped it over and DS laid down.
This morning she reiterated that the bunnies didn't have food because they spilled it on her pillow.
Huh.
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