weekend notes #27

How quickly the weekend flew by!

The pretty girl pictured first is currently up for adoption at the animal shelter. Her name is Firefly, which suits her perfectly as she's tiny and bright-eyed. She's so sweet and friendly that I can't believe someone hasn't taken her home yet.

I read Mockingjay into the wee hours of Saturday morning but stopped halfway through because it's so intense. I'll definitely finish, but in the meantime I'm taking a breather, reading a beloved and comforting favorite novel by Lisa Kleypas.

My ballet teacher has received a wonderful professional opportunity that, sadly, requires she give up our Saturday class (happily, she'll still be teaching us on Tuesday evenings). This past Saturday, Celeste and I threw a little surprise party for her after class. Celeste brought a bottle of red wine, and I baked a devil's food cake with sour cream chocolate frosting. I forgot to snap a photo until I was on my way to class, so you see it here in the box I used to transport it.

Work will be busy over the next few weeks, so I'll be posting only on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays until things quiet down. I'll miss writing here and will be back full-time as soon as I can!  

friday felicitations #23

Happy Friday!

Hope you get to read something fabulous this weekend! Mockingjay, the last novel in Suzanne Collins' phenomonal Hunger Games trilogy, was just delivered yesterday. I'm so excited!


(photo by abre/tus/ojos, on Flickr)

five senses friday #7

seen

urban turkeys. Five of them! I had my first turkey sighting a couple years ago and learned that quite a few of them hang around the city. They kind of scare me because I've seem them chase people around (although to be fair to the turkeys, usually only with provocation). These guys (and gals?) were sitting peacefully in the midst of our busy medical campus.

heard

rain. Lots and lots of rain. It fell constantly from Monday through Wednesday.

smelled

the tanginess of devil's food cake batter

tasted

frozen hash browns and multi-grain waffles with fresh blueberries and plenty of ReddiWip. [Have you ever noticed that the degree to which a food's name deviates from normal spelling is inversely proportional to how natural or healthful it is? Huh.] For dinner. Sometimes you just gotta go with what you feel like. At least there were blueberries. And the waffles were multi-grain.

felt

my fuzzy slippers, for the first time since early spring. Some of the mornings have had a wonderfully autumnal coolness lately.

august bliss

Bliss equals . . .

1. book recommendations from friends. (August 19)

2. having the cake layers you just baked slip effortlessly from their pans. (August 26)

(photo by Perpetually, on Flickr)

benevolent postcard society: june (and a visit to our back yard)

Last Saturday was beautiful, sunny all day and comfortable, neither too hot nor too cold. It was a perfect day to take Izzy and Maisie for a stroll through the back yard.

A walk in the back yard may not sound too stimulating, but when your whole world otherwise is a 700-square-foot apartment, it's pretty exciting. Both girls adore going outside; it's about the only thing they have in common.

Our neighbor, Julie, plants a garden in the back yard every spring.



She always includes a big patch of catnip. Maisie finds it not at all enticing.

Izzy can't get enough of it and spends most of her time in it.

It was also a perfect day for photographing my June BPS postcard, which came from Vanessa in the UK. She'd just gone to an exhibition of Renaissance drawings at the British Museum and picked out this postcard showing studies of a cheetah wearing a collar and leash.

An uncannily perfect choice for me, don't you think?

balm for the guilt-ridden soul

Regrettably, I am a guilt-prone person, too often troubled by the gap between what I think my actions should be and what they are in truth.

One area in which I brood upon my shortcomings is the eating of vegetables. I actually quite like them, but I frequently lack the will or the skill to prepare them well, which means they appear too rarely on my dinner plate. If only I had a personal vegetable chef or a guy who cooked (I suppose the two could be one and the same if chosen carefully), I'd be a veritable paragon of vegetable-eating virtue.

In the absence of such a person, I at least have this recipe. It is ridiculously easy, thus bypassing any issues of time or talent.* It is so easy that it seems almost silly to call it a recipe, but I can verify that it is indeed one because it comes from Cook's Illustrated, and those are some serious people.** It is so easy, in fact, that you may have already accidentally invented it yourself, but just in case you haven't and you, too, are racked by vegetable-induced guilt, I will share it with you.

Roasted Green Beans

from Cook's Illustrated

Ingredients

1 pound green beans, stem ends snapped off
1 tablespoon olive oil
table salt and ground black pepper

Preparation

1. Adjust oven rack to middle position; heat oven to 450 degrees. Line rimmed baking sheet with aluminum foil; spread beans on baking sheet. Drizzle with oil; using hands, toss to coat evenly. Sprinkle with ½ teaspoon salt [I prefer ¼ teaspoon; I'm virtuous in some ways], toss to coat, and distribute in even layer. Roast 10 minutes.

2. Remove baking sheet from oven. Using tongs [or a spatula if you don't own tongs], redistribute beans. Continue roasting until beans are dark golden brown in spots and have started to shrivel, 10 to 12 minutes longer.

3. Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper, transfer to bowl, and serve.

That's really all there is to it, but the end result is simply delicious. Roasting the beans caramelizes them, imparting a sweet flavor, and restores their tenderness.

I like this recipe so much that I suspect I eat green beans disproportionately often compared to other vegetables, a fact that bothers me not at all. It's hardly a reason for guilt.


* It's even easier than that classic Thanksgiving recipe of frozen green beans, cream of mushroom soup, and French-fried onions, plus tastier and healthier, to boot.
** In their quest to develop the Best Recipe, the Cook's Illustrated recipe inventors are typically willing to sacrifice speed and convenience. This recipe is a nice case in which no trade-off is necessary.

seen

A happy ending!

weekend notes #26

This weekend I:

* Played with: a couple of meltingly adorable kittens.

* Brunched at: the Robinwood Cafe, a new little place in the neighborhood featuring classic breakfast food, friendly waitstaff, and a convivial atmosphere.

* Devoured: Jennifer Donnelly's deservedly award-winning novel, A Northern Light. The heroine, Mattie (Mathilda) Gorkey, a sixteen-year-old living in the Adirondacks in the early 1900s, is smart, bookish, and a talented writer and trying to find happiness in a world that appreciates none of those qualities in a woman. Full review to follow.

* Ran in: the rain. Saturday was beautiful and sunny, but Sunday was gray and wet all day. There was no thunder or lightning, however, for which I was grateful. (I listen to music while running, and ever since reading about a case in a medical journal, I secretly fear being struck by lightning while wearing earbuds.)

* Stood in line at: the Apple store for an iPhone. This was the Boston store's first shipment in a while, so demand was pretty high, and the wait was about an hour. I'd had no idea that they'd been out of stock and picked yesterday for my purchase out of sheer luck. I didn't mind waiting so much because I had books with me although I did get very hungry as dinnertime approached. The new phone and I are still getting to know each other, but so far I like its snappy operating system and pretty display. (My ailing old iPhone, a two-year-old second-generation model, fails to produce sounds sometimes, which gets rather problematic.)

* Baked: these brownies, so easy and so good. Ate an entire row. Felt mildly ill.

friday felicitations #22

Happy Friday!

Have a delicious weekend.


(delectable photo by C. Mariani, on Flickr)

five senses friday #6

seen

a scarlet hibiscus, a bit of the tropics in the middle of Boston

heard

lovely strains of Chopin from the soundtrack for The Pianist. Marvelous music to work by.

smelled

delicately-scented pale pink roses

tasted

mac and cheese. Top favorite of my nephew, Aidan, and one of my favorites, too.

felt

downy kitty feet

the hawkeye of lemon bars

One of my favorite movies of all time, I note without shame*, is The Last of the Mohicans. I've lost track of how many times I've watched it. It's like a really great historical romance brought to life.

Cora, the strong, independent heroine, beautiful yet steely, coolly saves herself from bad guys and wears excellent period costumes. Duncan, the stalwart but stodgy distractor man, feels genuine affection for Cora but can't match her fiery, pioneering spirit. And of course, there's Nathaniel, earthy, untamed, yet noble, the ideal partner for Cora as she leaves the Old World behind and forges her destiny in the New One. Sigh.

And the waterfall scene. Oh, the waterfall scene. If you haven't seen the movie or don't remember it (how could you forget it?), the waterfall scene is reason enough to add it promptly to your Netflix queue**.

Or watch it so you'll understand the following metaphor.

If lemon bars were frontier heroes, a traditional lemon bar would be Duncan: refined; proper; dressed in a starched neckcloth, decorated coat, and white wig (or powdered sugar, as the case may be, hahaha) with a queue** tied up with velvet ribbon. Most in his element at a formal tea party. Admirable in his way, certainly.

Whereas the lemon bar for which I'm about to share the recipe would be Nathaniel: rough-hewn; plain-spoken; bare-chested and garbed in homespun with his wild dark hair tied back with rawhide. Most in his element running fleet-footed through the forest. Complex and intense with a beguiling balance of sweetness and saltiness.

Creamy Lemon Crumb Squares

from The Pioneer Woman, via The Chic Line

Ingredients

1⅓ cups all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 stick (½ cup) butter, slightly softened
1 cup brown sugar, lightly packed
1 cup oats [I used non-quick-cooking]
1 can (14-ounce) sweetened condensed milk
½ cup lemon juice [this came out to 4 lemons]
zest of 1 lemon

Preparation

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Mix butter and brown sugar until well-combined.
3. Sift together flour, salt, and baking powder.
4. Add oats and flour mixture to butter/sugar mixture and mix to combine.
5. Press half of resulting crumb mixture into bottom of an 8x11-inch pan.
6. Mix together condensed milk, lemon juice, and zest. Spread onto bottom layer of crumb mixture. Top with the remaining crumb mixture, but don't press.
7. Bake 20 to 25 minutes or until golden brown.
8. Allow pan to sit for 30 minutes after baking. Cut into squares and refrigerate for a couple of hours or until cool. Serve cool.

I think it's time to watch The Last of the Mohicans again.


* A friend of mine, whom I shall leave unnamed to protect her privacy, informed me that adoring The Last of the Mohicans is, in fact, a source of embarrassment for some people. I suppose being a fan of romance novels inures one to such feelings.
** Are you not impressed that I managed to use the word "queue" in two different senses in the same post? And it wasn't even planned.


(movie photos from here, here, and here)

wear your heart on your sleeve (or around your neck or on your shoulder)

Thank you for listening to yesterday's scary story! I feel better for having been able to tell you about it. Happily, Sachi and her family are doing well.

For today, a far more frivolous topic.

If you don't know me in person, you may be surprised to learn that I rarely wear cat-themed apparel or accessories. It's not that I'm trying to avoid Crazy Cat Lady status (a bit late for that, don'tcha think?) but rather that so much of this merchandise is in absolutely dreadful taste: kitschy and busy, in unfortunate colors, often emblazoned with corny and unfunny captions. The depictions of cats are rarely attractive, and honestly, I think most felines would be horrified by these misguided tributes.

The one exception to my prohibition on cat-themed adornment is this necklace, one of my earliest purchases upon discovering Etsy last year. I am quite fond of its spare, rustic sensibility, plus it's sterling silver, my favorite for jewelry.

But that's it. No feline-festooned t-shirts, nightshirts, or (heaven forbid) sweatshirts for me. No cat tote bags or purses. No cat barrettes or umbrellas or scarves.

(Although Izzy and Maisie might appreciate a scarf for cats when the weather gets cold. Hmmm . . . .)

Last week, however, I discovered this.

Dear Reader, I fear my resolve is being Sharply Challenged.

grace

First, lest I scare you, I will say that everyone is okay.

On Sunday evening, my sister, Sachi; her husband, Erik; my niece and nephew, Kayleigh and Aidan; and their dog, Tilly, were in a scary accident while driving home from Erik's parents' house in the mountains outside of Albuquerque. It was raining heavily, and their SUV hit a bump and hydroplaned off the road, nearly colliding with a semi. Their car crashed through a chain link fence, cleared a 20-foot ravine, and then plunged 300 feet down the mountainside before hitting a tree, shattering the windshield.

Emergency medical personnel responded promptly, and the kids were taken back up the mountainside to one of two waiting ambulances. Kayleigh appeared perfectly fine, and Aidan sustained some bruising from his car seat straps but was mainly worried, as he expressed to the EMS worker who carried him, that "his daddy's car was broken." Sachi experienced some back and neck pain and so was transported up on a backboard. Erik noted arm and neck pain only later (probably delayed due to the adrenaline surge he was experiencing!) and was able to walk up on his own with Tilly. His mom, whom Sachi had called together with my mom after calling 911, arrived quickly and took Tilly home before meeting the family at the ER. (Despite being the only unrestrained passenger, Tilly seems to be okay except for a slight limp.)

After various exams, x-rays, and CT scans, everyone was pronounced to be free of major injuries. Aidan, when asked later if anything hurt, pointed only to the band-aid-covered sites of needle pokes he'd received in the ER! Exhausted, sore, and shaken, they were discharged home early yesterday morning.

I am so very grateful that this terrifying event ended so well. I've been trying not to think about what could have happened and to focus instead on how incredibly lucky we were. I'm convinced that those moments leading to the car's landing upright and intact and softly enough to keep everyone safe were truly moments of grace.


(photo of the Sandia Mountains by swancher, on Flickr; photo of Aidan and Kayleigh by Sachi)

weekend notes #25

This weekend I

* Cared for: Mickey, tail-less clinic cat and buddy of Butters. I don't know what happened to Mickey's tail - it's been absent the entire two years I've known him - but he doesn't seem to miss it.

* Dove into: Magyk, book one in Angie Sage's Septimus Heap series. I was wandering around the bookstore - I seem constitutionally unable to walk past one without going inside - and feeling like a new fantasy novel when I remembered that my friend, Tabitha, had recommended this series. It must be difficult to write children's fantasy in the wake of Harry Potter, but Magyk was wonderful. Sage has a uniquely gentle, humorous voice, and Septimus is an endearing hero. I've already gone back for books two and three.

* Indulged in: Bonne Maman blueberry preserves, on toasted peasant bread with butter. I've been on a blueberry kick, as well as a preserves kick. I usually find preserves too sweet, but over the past couple of months, I've been craving them with toast. My mom loves jam/jelly/preserves and has already stocked her new home with about five different varieties, so I've teased her that I'm experiencing the activation of some long-dormant maternally inherited jam-loving gene.

* Wept over: Bright Star. It's absurd, I realize, how many months it's taken me (five!) to finally watch this; I must be an ideal customer from Netflix's perspective. Keats was too wispy for my taste (guess it couldn't be helped since he was declining from tuberculosis), but I loved Abbie Cornish's portrayal of Fanny Brawne. She was vibrant, generous, vain, loving, outspoken, artistic, and very real. I adored all of the scenes showing her remarkable talent as a seamstress and the way in which this craft served as her means of self-expression. The sumptuous fabrics, vivid colors, and fanciful shapes of her costumes were incredible.


(Bright Star stills from ACESHOWBIZ)