To Begin (Again)

There are days when I'm so full of words that I fervently type them on an iPhone note.  There are also days when I have no words at all.  Then there is the startling, overwhelming, amazing, fulfilling amount of time that caring for a baby takes.  I have had no desire to write here for the past six months.  I have had little to say about food except that I have managed to get dinner on the table...most nights.

I am in awe of new mom's who seem to slip seamlessly back into their pre-baby lives.  Evenings out with friends, restful nights of sleep, and perfectly coiffed hairstyles before they walk out the door (stylish diaper bag and baby with no snot on his face in tow).  If you are one of those moms, hats off to you.  If you are not one of those moms, I understand.  Truly, I do.  I am not one of those "together" moms.

Is it okay to admit that these first six months have been challenging?  The truths of new motherhood are easy to read about but much more difficult (and rewarding) to live.  First, feeding a baby is a full time job; it is also the job I love most about being a mother.  Second, dirty diapers wait for no man (or woman).  They will make themselves known at awkward times and places.  Thirdly, new motherhood can feel lonely (and scary) even though you are almost never alone.  Isn't that the strangest dichotomy? 

And truly, I have an amazing, supportive, diaper changing, bottle washing, rock the baby at 2am husband who has made sure I was never alone in this.  I can't imagine how much more difficult it would have been without him by my side. 

There is also the self-doubt.  Did he have enough dirty diapers?  Did I feed him two hours ago or three hours ago?  Is it too chilly outside to dress him in short sleeves?  Will he be scarred for life if I put him in his crib while I go take a shower?  (My fellow mamas--put the baby down in a safe place and go take that shower!  Do not feel guilty about that!)  I'm fairly certain many mothers have these same feelings of falling short.  It's easy to let our minds go to that place where we are not as good as the mom down the street or sitting a few rows in front of us at church.  But here is the truth that we all need to hear:  we are good moms.  We can do this.  We ARE doing it.

This all brings me around to what is happening here on this little space I call my blog.  Is this a food blog?  A mom-blog?   A blog about...anything in particular?  I'm not sure.  I am a person who cooks and eats food.  I'm a mom. I like to garden, sew, needlepoint, read, and chat.  I like to explore and I love to just be at home.  I love my husband and my kids and my dogs.  This blog may be about all of those things.   I considered changing the name of it but as far as blogs go, I've been around a long time!  Three years!  Let's just push ahead here, together, mmkay?

Today I do have some links to share with you.  All of these links are from other mom's opening up about their thoughts on new motherhood (the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful).  I hope if you are a mom, or thinking about being one, or know a mom who might need some support, you might find these writers relate-able.

Megan at Sorta Crunchy gets real about (unsteady new) life with twins

Molly at Orangette talks post-partum depression (Thank you for your openness, Molly!)

Motherhood Support is a wonderful parenting blog written by some Cincinnati mamas!

Kath at KathEats shared tea and life thoughts in this post (I particularly related to her work-life balance.  I also feel like every time Alex naps or is occupied I should be doing something like clean the house! answer email!  fold the laundry!  etc etc etc).

A beautiful (seriously, so so so beautiful) poem about breastfeeding from Nicole at And Baby Cakes Three (I love this blog!)

New Mommy Media's podcasts sustained me during my maternity leave!  I found myself counting down the days until new episodes were posted.  I highly recommend them for any stage of parenthood from pre-conception to raising toddlers.

Do you have any blogs, articles, podcasts, or experiences of your own to share?  I'd love to hear them.  Thank you for coming back here, even after all this time.  I'll see you again, soon.

A Battle Well Fought

Last night I accompanied Tim to a work dinner at the Boathouse.  When we arrived home, the sun had already set and a warm rain had just begun to fall.  As I stepped out of the car, I opened my hands to feel the drops and a memory came back to me like lightening.

The summer before Tim and I met was a bit of a low point for me.  I wasn't entirely happy with my employment and I was lonely.  I was still recovering from a broken heart that had lingered for over two years without healing; back then I had begun to wonder if I would ever feel happy again.  One evening, I think it was a Thursday night, I came home from a work function after dark and stood next to my car in a warm August rain.  It was like I was in some sort of trance, soon completely drenched, and I couldn't will any of my limbs to move.  It was one of those strange moments where I felt outside myself, as if watching someone else contemplate how to fix all cracks in her life.  I must have stood there for a half an hour while the rain fell until a car turned down the street and I snapped back to the present.

I met Tim two months later.

We married a little over two years after that.

And now, three and a half years later, we are expecting a baby soon.

I share all of this with you because every time the baby moves around, stretching his or her limbs, I can't believe how wonderful life can be.  Even I can see all of the differences between the woman I am now and the girl I was back then.  And as I approach my 30th birthday next week, I can whole-heartedly say good-bye to my 20s and all of the struggles and opportunities they presented me.  Last August, I committed (publicly, on this blog!) to living out my 29th year like a Victory Lap, and I think I have spent this time proving to myself that my 20s were a battle well fought.

What about you?  Are you fighting for your life?  I hope you win.  You deserve it.

Around Here (and a bit of news!)

Oh, hello there.  I've missed you.  Lots of time has gone by, I know, and I hope you know I've been thinking about you.  There have been lots of changes since the spring.  I know it's how the world works, and life will always shift and slide, this way and that, but sometimes it still takes me a while to process these changes.

I wasn't as enthusiastic about planting our vegetable garden this year as I was in years past.  I can't really explain why, but I think some of the disappointments and struggles we had last year with squash bugs and a few under performing tomato plants wore me down.  I don't know if it was luck or strong seedlings or the warm weather but our garden is really thriving this year.  We have a Black Prince heirloom tomato potted in a trash can on our patio that is finally beginning to ripen, as well as four other varieties of tomatoes in the garden bed.

The only things we've had a chance to taste were a few of the cherry tomatoes.  Tim popped them into his mouth straight out of the garden and proclaimed them the best cherry tomatoes he's ever tasted.

The tomato I'm most looking forward to is our heirloom Oxheart.  I chose this varietal because my grandmother, who passed away recently, told me her grandfather used to grow them, and she remembers eating them when she was a child.  A bulky, slicing tomato much like a beefsteak, this fruit starts in a shape similar to a strawberry until it fills out to an oblong fruit.  Every time I walk out to the garden and look at this plant, I think of her and how even though she's gone, we are going to be sharing an experience.  It means a lot to me.

Things are changing in our home and family as well.  It's largely the reason I've been absent from this blog for a few months.  I couldn't bear to cook anything with a strong  flavor, heavy aroma, or strange texture from March through June.  You can probably guess what was the culprit.  

Our little Nugget will be coming into the world in the fall, and I'm just starting to wrap my head around the idea of a baby (a baby!) being a part of our family.  Every time I feel the baby move inside my belly I can't believe how different things will be.  Tim and I have just recently started to prepare our house to make room for this little being which is starting to make the whole thing seem real.  Every time I walk past the office--err, the nursery--and see the crib sitting in there, I am reminded that we are bringing a new life to the universe.  It's equally strange and amazing.  


I have been back in the kitchen recently, though I can't say I'm particularly adventurous.  I've made some incredible buttermilk biscuits, Tim's favorite mint brownies, and an easy pork roast.  I know Tim is thankful that I've taken over some of the cooking responsibilities, and we have reduced the amount of take-out in our lives.  I will try not to disappear on you again, and I hope you will let me know what you've been up to lately as well.  


Oh, and not quite an announcement as much as a disclaimer:  we have had a bit of technology drama in our house and the computer that I was editing my digital photos on has given up on us.  Until we bite the bullet and buy a new computer, I will probably be posting photos from Instagram.  I am, however, excited to be attending a digital photography workshop next week and do hope to continue to work on my pictures for the site.  

Wordless Wednesday: Brunch

Just Fishin'

You might think this is a blog post about basketball, especially when you look at these photos.  But I urge you to be open minded.  I'm actually here to talk to you about my dad.  Specifically, my dad taking me fishing.

When I was a little girl, my dad owned a fishing boat.  It was silver and red and reflected the light like the surface of water when the sun hit it.  On Saturdays he used to leave before the sun came up and head off to the lake, early enough for him to be able to put his boat in the water just as the first light was breaking.  I'm no fish expert, but I used to imagine that he needed to get into the fishing channels before the blue gills and catfish woke up.

While he was gone, my mom would assemble an assortment of picnic items: chips and dip, sandwiches, fruit salad, cans of soda, a cooler full of ice; and then she would pack everything (including my sister, my brother, and sometimes even the dog) into our van and drive us to the lake to meet my dad.  

Dad would meet us at the picnic area, parking his boat along the dock.  We'd eat, and then when we were done everyone would pile into the boat, securely fastened into life jackets, and Dad would drive the boat across the lake through the wake area, where we'd have to dodge water skiers and tubers until we reached a quiet channel.

I was never afraid of piercing the little worms with the fishing hook and would volunteer to bait my sister's hook as well (she wasn't as interested in fishing).  Then we'd cast our lines in and wait...as patiently as kids can wait...for our bobber to be pulled under and to feel a little tug on our line.  Dad would help us reel the line in, sometimes revealing that our worm had been stolen and sometimes we would have a silver, slippery fish.  Dad showed us how to hold the fish's fins back while we slipped the hook out of its lip, and then we'd take some pictures of our catch before we tossed it back.

I heard a song on the radio today called Just Fishin' by Trace Adkins.  If you've never heard it, the lyrics are about a man who takes his daughter fishing.  It seems this narrator doesn't know how to relate to his daughter's world of girly things, but he loves to spend time with her.  As I listened to it, it brought a few tears to my eyes, because it made me think of my dad.

He's a lot of things to a lot of people.  He's a husband.  He's a teacher.  He's a high school basketball coach.  (These pictures were taken at a recent game.  My dad is the man in the middle of the huddle.)  But to me--he's just my dad.  He used to take me fishing.

Happy (belated) birthday to you, Dad.  

Scenes from a Weekend Getaway II

First three photos taken at Shawnee State Park.
Last three photos taken of the Floodwall Murals in Portsmouth, Ohio. 

Happy New Year!

Gluten Free Vegan Sugar Cookies

Christmas has come and gone. Time moves at a quick clip when you're an adult.  I could wander down a path of pondering the speed of time but I would lose the point of this post.

And that point is that our Christmas was wonderful.  How was yours?  I can only hope you had the same love filling up your wine glasses and stockings.  I spent the days leading up to Christmas baking sugar cookies (we will come back to these), picking out last minute gifts, and preparing a fancy Christmas Eve dinner.  The presents we gave ended up hitting all of the right notes; there were a smattering of thoughtfully handmade pieces from Etsy, a few items I had remembered my family members mentioning in passing, and framed photos of Melissa for our parents and my grandparents.

Oh, and the gifts given to us?  Wow.  Just wow.  You who gave gifts to us--you really love us.  Cooking ware, entertaining pieces, new clothes, camera accessories, gift cards, red lipstick (for me) and a brand new turn table (for Tim).  As I type this, I'm listening to Tom Waits' album The Heart of Saturday Night.  It's one of my favorites and it gives me a feeling that listening to an MP3 just can't deliver. 

Our tree may only last a few more days in the living room as I've started to tackle some of our holiday clutter.  Putting things back in their rightful place seems the only way to master untidy accumulations and so the tree may go back into its box sooner than later.  These Christmas cookies may be the last holiday item to go if I can make them last that long--and that is proving difficult.

I assumed I would be able to make some baked goods to meet my allergists' restrictions, but I didn't think it would be this simple.  I happened upon a sugar cookie recipe that had already been adapted gluten free, and I only needed to swap a few additional ingredients to make it dairy free and egg free.  I wasn't convinced it would work, but I loved making Christmas cookies last year and didn't want to go without. 

Obviously, it worked.  Texturally, these cookies were a little chewy with a nice light crumb.  I made two batches with different gluten free flour mixes, and I much preferred the King Arthur Gluten Free flour blend though I don't think someone would notice the difference without being able to compare them side by side.  Also, if kept in the refrigerator in a sealed container, these cookies can last up to a week, maybe two.  I highly recommend making them in advance as they were even better on the second day.  

Gluten Free, Vegan Sugar Cookies with Vegan Buttercream Frosting 
cookie recipe adapted from Inner Circle Chic
frosting recipe adapted from Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World
makes about 36 cookies

If you are not vegan or do not have egg and dairy food intolerances/allergies, you can use the same amounts of butter and egg as a substitute.  You could also use Earth Balance's traditional soy-based spread instead of the soy-free spread.  You can make similar substitutions in the frosting recipe.  I cannot guarantee that the cookies will turn out exactly as well as mine did if you use a different gluten free flour blend as all flour blends are different. 

Ingredients for the Cookies
3/4 cup Earth Balance soy-free spread
1 cup sugar
2 Ener-G eggs
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 1/2 cups King Arthur Flour Gluten Free All Purpose Flour
1 tsp baking powder
2 tsp xanthum gum
1 tsp fine salt

In the bowl of a upright mixer, combine Earth Balance, sugar, egg-replacer, and extract.  Mix on medium speed until all ingredients are combined and the mixture is slightly fluffy.  There may be small lumps of Earth Balance.  If they are smaller than a pea, it's okay.

In a separate bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, gum, and salt.  Add dry mixture to wet mixtuer and mix on low speed until well incorporated.  Cover with plastic wrap and chill for at least 1 hour.  If well covered, can be made a day in advance.

Heat oven to 400 degrees F.  Remove dough from refrigerator.  Take a handful of the dough about the size of a baseball and making into a ball.  Set the ball of dough on well-floured (with gluten free flour) surface.  Return unused dough to the refrigerator.  Roll out the dough so that it is between 1/4 inch and 1/8 inch thick.  If dough is crumbly when you are rolling it out, just let it rest for a few minutes and then try again. 

Cut dough into desired shapes using cookie cutters or biscuit cutters. (The amount of cookies this recipe makes will depend largely on the size of your cutters.)  Place cut-out shapes onto a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper.  Bake for 6-8 minutes until cookies are done.  For a crisper cookie, bake an additional minute past when the cookies are cooked through.  After removing cookies from the oven, allow to sit for at least five minutes on the cookie sheet before removing them to cool on a wire rack.

Repeat process until all dough is used.   Cool cookies completely before icing.  (Cookies can be frozen at this point although I personally did not test freezing and defrosting them.)

Ingredients for the Vegan Buttercream
1/2 cup Spectrum Organic Vegetable Shortening (soy-free)
1/2 cup Earth Balance soy-free spread
3 1/2 cups confectioners sugar, sifted
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 - 1/2 cup plain almond milk

Beat the shortening and Earth Balance together until fluffy.  Add the confectioners sugar and beat for 3 more minutes.  Add the vanilla and 1/4 cup almond milk and beat for another 5-7 minutes.  If icing seems too thick, add more almond milk.  Beware of the icing being too runny for piping onto cookies!  If you add too much liquid, you can always add a little more powdered sugar to balance it out.

The frosting will be very light and fluffy.  Chill the frosting for 1 hour before using.  In a medium bowl, add some icing and desired food coloring and mix.  Frosting will begin to slightly soften as you mix the color. Put frosting into a pastry bag or a zip-lock back with a snipped corner and decorating tip.  Pipe onto cookies and decorate as you desire.  Keep unused frosting in the refrigerator until you are ready to use it.  Icing may seem soft but will firm up when refrigerated.  Keep iced cookies in a cool place. 

This frosting can also be used on cakes and cupcakes.

Very Thankful

There was lots of turkey this weekend.  We ate turkey dinner three times:  Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday.  As if that wasn't enough, we stopped by Whole Foods for lunch on Friday and Tim got turkey and gravy from their hot bar.  Turkey four days in a row for him.  He loves Thanksgiving.

We did sneak in some non-turkey-eating activities.  There was a family dinner outside of Columbus, a quick unpacking of our Christmas decorations, and an impromptu visit to the Englewood dam for family pictures. 

While waiting for the sunset to hit the perfect moment for a few last pictures, we did a little goofing around, balancing on fallen branches, and chatting about what our dogs secretly think about us.  (We have very deep conversations in times like these.)  I caught a moment of Tim and Melissa on the bench, side by side, and thought about how I hit the jackpot marrying into this family.

After I snapped a few pictures of Melissa in front of the setting sun, we headed to the car.  The sky was beautiful, full of blues and pinks, but it didn't seem like the sunset was going to offer the golden reds and royal puples I was hoping for.  As we were driving away from the park, we could see out the windows that we left a few minutes too early.

Tim knew I had been waiting for that shot and asked, "Do you want me to pull over?"  It was thoughtful of him, but I said we could just keep on heading home.

If I'm lucky, I will get to see thousands of more sunsets with this family.  For that, I am very thankful.

(Just thoughts today, but more food posts later this week.)

On Eating (and Not Eating)

A few weeks ago I stood in a semi-fast food restaurant and couldn't pick out a single thing on the menu to order.  I ruled out several items from the get-go and then asked the manager to bring out a binder full of nutrition and ingredient facts.  I went over nearly every item on their menu, standing there at the counter for almost ten minutes, realizing that I have never had any idea what was in the food I was eating. 

It was shocking, confusing, disheartening.  I finally settled on an iced tea and a fruit cup.  That would have to be lunch that day.

Then I went out to my car and cried a little.  That day, it was just a little.  But there have been a few days since I started seeing an allergist to get to the root of my stomach issues that I've cried a lot.  I found him through an online doctor-finder program provided by my insurance company.  He had positive reviews, was close to my house, and was accepting new patients.  When I went to see him, I was taken back to a room relatively quickly and the staff were friendly.  I explained my symptoms and concerns to him and emphatically said, "I would do anything to feel better.  I would stop eating anything."

And he very seriously looked at me and said, "Do you mean that?  Because I will be asking you to give things up."

And he did ask.  He asked me to give up a lot--for three straight weeks.  And for three straight weeks, I followed every single guideline he gave me.  I went without.  I felt better.  I also had blood drawn and was tested for all sorts of things.  Nothing came back irregular.  No food allergies.  No diseases (like celiac).  My body is simply intolerant to certain foods. 

I saw him again, just a few days ago.  When I told him how strict I'd been with the diet, he praised me.  "That's wonderful!" he said, "any issues?"

There was one day where I'd eaten something specific and felt ill soon after.  "Ah yes, we'll have you avoid that too.  For one month."

Now I'm going on four weeks of food restrictions.  I've managed to dine out a few times, but I order plain steamed vegetables or a simple salad with no dressing.  Once I even brought my own dressing since I could guarantee it fit my restrictions.  I've packed my lunch to take on trips, and I've found a few fairly convenient restaurants that can accommodate my restrictions, though I think Tim is sick of both of them already.  In another week I will get one food I've been living without back into my diet, and hopefully that will go well because I surely miss it. 

There's also a big holiday coming up--an eating holiday--where I will likely sit around a table watching my family eat foods I love.  I felt guilty last week when I spoke to my mom about my restrictions and requested that some foods be prepared without certain ingredients. I even felt badly for offering alternative ingredient suggestions.  How could I ask someone to go out and buy an unusual item just to accommodate me?  Then I remembered that she loves me.  And that gives me a little courage to speak up.  To at least ask.  My mom was happy to look into some small substitutions, and I also offered to bring a side dish to share.  Something that everyone will enjoy and that will guarantee I have something good to eat.   

Even though I have had a few moments where I am exhausted with reading labels and researching menus and looking up recipes to the point where I would rather just eat nothing than continue researching safe foods, I know that it's worth it.  Eating this way has helped me start to feel better.  And that's all I want. 

I will tell you all the nitty, gritty details of what I can and can't eat someday, but for now I'm still figuring out what restrictions are temporary and what may be more permanent.  You may see me post recipes and talk of dining out from pre- and post-restrictions.  When I get answers, I will let you know.  I can only say for sure that things--internally speaking--are on the up and up.

Monday Link Love: Inspiration

I would consider myself a person who thinks a lot--maybe too much.  My mind drifts off when I'm waiting at the pharmacy or stirring a pot of risotto.  I cry during all Pixar movies and even sometimes watching commercials.  I am a dreamer.  A believer.  I'm sure some would say I just have a wild imagination, but I don't think that's the reason.  Life moves me. 

So today I'm sharing some of that inspiration with you (food and non-food related). 

My beautiful, talented, smart cousin Joy is a truly motivated young woman.  She's already completed a young adult novel!  And she shares about her goals to be a published writer over on her blog.  Check it out--she will make you laugh, make you think, and make you want to chase your dreams, too. 


Do you think Thanksgiving can't exist without the turkey?  Aimee is proving that wrong with her round-up of vegetarian Thanksgiving dishes.  I think she's onto something, here. 

We went to a fund-raiser on Saturday night for the Midwest Boston Terrier Rescue. It's the rescue from which we adopted our amazing Boston Terrier mix, Murray.   It felt really good to support the rescue's mission and motivated me to be more involved in something that I truly believe in.

Speaking of going after your goals, I loved today's blog post from Joy the Baker.  She shares 10 tips on how to build a successful blog--and most of them you might already know but need to hear.   My favorite:  pretty things are important.  I'm going to work on that. 

You may be in denial, but Christmas is just around the corner.  I'm inspired by the modern-homemaking goddess, Cherry Menlove.  She started her series on preparing for Christmas with sharing an extremely useful template to keep track of holiday gifting and budgets.  I've already printed three copies!

Has anything around the web inspired you lately?  Please share!

See you back here soon.  As always, thanks for stopping by. 

A Good Place (and Perfect Roast Chicken)

I had my high school reunion this past weekend.  It started a bit awkwardly with hugs outside of the high school football stadium.  I found myself feeling a little anxious--the same way I used to feel when I was going on a first date.  When I hugged a former classmate hello and smelled beer on his breath, I honestly thought to myself, "Maybe I should have had a drink before coming to this."

After a couple of how-ya-beens and what-have-you-done-with-your-lifes, I realized I didn't need that drink.  It turns out that ten years isn't that long to go between conversations with old friends.  We laughed about trouble we used to get into, and the commiserated that we weren't such bad kids after all.  Nearly everyone who attended already had one or two of their own kids (or maybe thinking about having some in the future) so we are starting to understand why we had early curfews, strict parents, and nosy teachers.  They, the older and wiser generation, had a better idea of what was ahead of us than we could ever have imagined.  I wish I could say thank you to them.  If you're out there reading this:  thank you. 

I also think I had a nice time because I'm in such a good place in my life.  Married to a handsome, kind man, working a job I enjoy, helping to raise a daughter, and carrying out the vision for my "victory lap" year.  I've lost a little weight.  I've made some new friends.  I'm focused on improving my overall health.  I'm happy.  How many people can say that about their lives?

It may sound corny, but I'm certain my happiness has spilled over into the way I cook.   I buy healthier foods and prepare them more thoughtfully.  I research recipes more thoroughly but still feel follow my instinct in the kitchen.

Take chicken for example.  Offensive things are done to what could be a lovely, flavorful meat.  Just this afternoon on the Cooking Channel, I witnessed the host of a show making Pizza-fied Chicken.  It was a bit ridiculous.  She put string cheese on it, for goodness sake.  Do we have to trick ourselves into thinking chicken is pizza in order to enjoy it?  Can't we just leave pizza and chicken in different categories altogether?  Perhaps I'm alone on this one, but is it so hard to just season it, roast it, and eat it.  Is that so difficult?  (That kind of common sense would probably put some cooking shows out of business!)

I don't say this often, but I've recently come upon the most perfect roast chicken recipe.  So simple and delicious that a novice could master it with only a handful of ingredients and a hot oven.  The chicken is juicy with incredible flavor and reheats in the oven for wonderful leftovers the next day. 

And if I had to recommend a must-have kitchen item for a home-cook,  I would most emphatically say a meat thermometer.  There is absolutely no way to tell if a bird or roast is cooked to the desired doneness without it.  So go get one at once if you haven't got one already.

And then make this roast chicken.

A quick note before you get to the recipe:  don't forget that Monday, October 31 is the day to submit your Culinary Smackdown: Battle Winter Squash entry.  I will put up a "host post" here on my blog on Sunday with my own winter squash creations and you can link to your entry from there. 

Spatchcocked Roast Chicken
recipe slightly adapted from food52
serves 4 to 6

In a pinch, I've found that a quick zap in the microwave at 10 second intervals will soften butter up.  If you go too far in softening it, toss it in the freezer for a minute or two and it will quickly solidify.  Also, an organic or natural, hormone-free chicken will always taste better than a conventional supermarket chicken.  It's worth the extra investment. 

Ingredients
4 tbsp butter, softened
Zest of one small lemon
2-3 cloves of garlic, minced
1 1/2 tsp Dijon mustard
2 tsp fresh thyme
1 3-4 lb whole chicken
salt & pepper

In a small bowl, combine softened butter, lemon zest, minced garlic, Dijon mustard, and a pinch of each salt & pepper.  Set aside.

Discard any neck or gizzards from the chicken.  Pat dry with a paper towel.  Set the chicken, breast down, on a cutting board.  Using kitchen shears, start at the tail end of the bird cut along each side of the backbone to remove it.  This should expose the inside of the chicken.  Press it open slightly and sprinkle the cavity of the bird with salt and pepper.

Flip the bird over so that it is breast side up.  Press down between the breasts with your hands so that the bird lies flat.  Trim away any excess fat and skin from around the cavity of the bird.  Then gently slide your fingers under the skin of the breast and legs to loosen it from the meat.  Smear 2/3 of the compound butter under the skin of the bird.  Spread the leftover compound butter over the outside of the skin and then sprinkle the bird with salt & pepper.

Lay the chicken in shallow roasting pan, such as a 9 x 13 casserole dish, and put it in the refrigerator uncovered for 1 to 2 hours.  When you're ready to roast the bird, heat the oven to 425 degrees F and remove the chicken from the refrigerator.  Roast the chicken at 425 degrees F for 20 minutes, then baste with the accumulated juices in the pan, and reduce heat to 375 degrees F.  Roast for another 15 to 30 minutes, basting at least once more during the cooking time, until the thermometer when inserted into the thickest part of the breast reads 165 degrees F.  Remove from oven and allow to rest, tented with foil, for at least 10 minutes before carving. 

Victory Lap: An Ode to the Final Year of My 20s

I won't lie to you and say the past nine years were always amazing.  Sure, there were lots of memorable moments, but I'm not perfect.  There were days when I would stop to wonder how I got to that place--you know, the place where you feel like if you plan a vacation it will rain the whole time or if you saved up a little money the car would inevitably break down.  It was tough.  Calling them my "roaring twenties" would be an accurate description.

Truth be told, I think most of my friends would say the same thing.  Our twenties were a time when we rose to adulthood, without the comfort of our parents home and bank account to protect us.  We made mistakes.  Sometimes it was lonely.  We indulged in too much wine.  Most of us hated our first "real" jobs.  We missed having a safety net.  We mourned the end of childhood.

But we did laugh.  A lot.  My friend K.C. always said that if someone wasn't funny, she couldn't be bothered to get to know them.  Laughter pulled us through while we invested ourselves in building a life.  Many of my friends went on to graduate, law or medical school.  Some married and started families.  Others defiantly sought adventures around the world.  It's not easy to find the right path to follow.  Our twenties gave us a chance to weave in and out and see how the direction felt.  If it didn't end where we expected, we still had time to go a different route.  And we still have time, but it's starting to feel different.  We are older, maybe not as daring.  We have a lot to lose.  So we push on and try to find our way, laughing as often as we need.  I'm lucky that I have found a man who laughs with me.  And he makes me laugh when I most need to.

I had a birthday yesterday.  I'm 29 years old.  Not thirty--I will not let you age me a year. But not because I'm afraid of 30 or apprehensive about aging; I'm going to spend the next year to savoring my twenties.  The latter half of them have been very good to me:  I fell in love, I gained a daughter, I created a home for our family, I'm the happiest I've ever been.  I want to honor my twenties with a victory lap.   I'm going to spend the last year of my twenties celebrating the fact that I'm thriving--I'm still here, still loving, still laughing, still bettering myself.

Tim and Melissa baked me a cake.  I picked it out--dark chocolate cake with chocolate frosting--and they did all of the work.   I don't think the simple name it was given appropriately describes this cake--it was rich and moist and intensely flavorful.  It only seems appropriate to call it Victory Lap Cake, because it represents to me the things I love most about where my 20s have led me:  to family, to love, to happiness.  And they aren't over yet. 

Double Chocolate Layer Cake aka Victory Lap Cake
recipe slightly adapted from Gourmet via epicurious
serves 12 to 14 (or more)

Tim decided put his own twist to the cake by adding orange zest.  While not overpowering, I do think it gave the cake a little zing that chocolate cakes can lack.  I would recommend it, but you could omit it if you don't have an orange handy.

Ingredients for the cake
3 ounces semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 1/2 cups fresh brewed coffee, hot
3 cups sugar
2 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1 1/2 cups unsweetened cocoa powder
2 tsp baking soda
3/4 tsp baking powder
1 1/4 tsp salt
3 large eggs
3/4 cup vegetable oil
1 1/2 cups buttermilk, well-shaken
3/4 tsp vanilla
zest of one medium orange (optional)

Preheat oven to 300 degrees F.  Grease two 10 in x 2 in round cake pans.  Line bottoms with rounds of wax paper and then grease the paper.

Finely chop 3 oz of chocolate and combine in a bowl with hot coffee.  Let mixture stand, stirring occasionally, until chocolate is melted and mixture is smooth.  Allow to cool slightly. 

Sift together sugar, flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder, and salt into a large bowl.  In another large bowl with an electric mixer, beat eggs until thickened slightly and lemon colored (about 3 minutes with a standing mixer and slightly longer with a hand mixer).  Slowly add oil, buttermilk, vanilla, and melted chocolate mixture to eggs, beating until combined well.  Add sugar mixture and beat on medium speed until just combined well.  If using, stir in orange zest with a spoon or spatula.  Divide batter between pans and bake in middle of oven until a tester inserted in center comes out clean, 1 hour to 1 hour and 10 minutes.

Cool layers completely in pans on racks.  Run a thin knife around edges of pans and invert layers onto rack, carefully removing the wax paper.  If not completely cool on the bottom, allow to sit until completely cool.  Can be made 1 day ahead and kept at room temperature wrapped well in plastic wrap.

Ingredients for the frosting
1 pound semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 cup heavy cream
2 tbsp sugar
2 tbsp light corn syrup
1/4 cup unsalted butter (1/2 stick)

Finely chop chocolate.  In a medium saucepan, bring cream, sugar, and corn syrup to a boil over low heat, whisking until sugar is dissolved.  Remove pan from heat and add chocolate, whisking until chocolate is melted.  Cut butter into pieces and add to saucepan, whisking until smooth. 

Transfer to a medium bowl and cool, stirring occassionally, until spreadable.  You may need to chill frosting to achieve a spreadable consistency.

Spread frosting between cake layers and over top and sides.  Serve cake at room temperature.  Cake can be kept for up to 3 days covered and chilled. 

A Complicated Relationship with Food

It's been harder for me to write this summer than ever before.  Part of it is, admittedly, setting aside time to write.  We had Melissa staying with us for a wonderfully over-scheduled seven days while she attended a day camp, and then a few days later we drove to Chicago to visit my dearest friend Abbie and her boyfriend Nick.  I've enjoyed the fast-pace of life this summer, but it takes up a lot of mind space.

Writing has been on my mind, though, and I mentioned to Tim recently that it just feels weird writing at the kitchen table or sitting on the couch.  It's too quiet or too noisy;  the chair is too stiff or too squishy.  I'm tired or preoccupied or...or...or...Excuses?  Maybe.  I think that's a small part of it.   

As I'm in the second year of writing this blog, the bigger issue is saying what I want to say about food and life.  This blog was never just about eating, gardening, or cooking; it's about me (and my loved ones) eating, gardening, cooking, and especially living.  Have I let you in to see that? Or, more specifically, have I let you in enough?  Therein lies this writer's dilemna.  

Even though I wasn't there, I learned something from the talk given by Shauna Ahern at the Big Summer Potluck.  As a featured speaker, she said something that resonated so much with the attendees that nearly all of the recaps I've read have repeated it:  Expose your messy life.

Last summer I was at a social event with some acquaintances from college and one person asked me about my food blog.  How did I get the idea for it? (Wanted a place to share thoughts.) Do I have a lot of readers? (Sometimes.)  What have I made recently? (Pickles!)  At that she exchanged a glance with another acquaintance, and very seriously asked me, "Is that really fun for you?"

I was a bit taken aback.  It took me a minute to gather my thoughts before I answered, very honestly, "Yes."  And that was the end of our conversation.  In fact, I avoided her the rest of the night.  I know that most people don't get it--why I get a little thrill cooking something new and challenging, even when it fails in the most sensational way (exploding jars, deflated cakes, burned roasts).  And for many the internet is still a strange and scary place with overwhelming masses of information, but I like it out here in the world wide web.  It's comforting to reach through my high speed connection to find someone who gets it, even a small part of it.  Whatever it is. 

But she also doesn't know that my interest in food isn't simply a weekend hobby.  And this is something very few people know about me--food and I alternate between best friends and sworn enemies.  One day I will eat and feel fantastic, energized, inspired, and the next day food will force me into the fetal position with the heating pad on my stomach and a cold washcloth on my forehead.

It's a complicated relationship; something I've been dealing with for the past twelve years, quietly, shamefully.  It's not a pleasant conversation to have with someone, which is why so few know the extent of it, and I'm extremely fortunate to have a husband who never complains about caring for me.  But being my occasional care-taker is not the marriage he asked for, and it's not the role I want to impose on him, even if it's somewhat out of my control.

I am seeing a specialist to try to rule in or rule out some different things.  I've already had some early testing done and we are starting to work our way through it, albeit slowly.  It's likely that I will be doing specific food elimination trials to find out if that helps me to feel well more consistently.  And it's also possible that it's not going to be that simple.  The fact that it could be difficult to pinpoint the cause--it's something I try not to think about. 

That's where I'm at right now.  Still kind of figuring things out, thankful that other bloggers have come forward with their own confusing relationships with food, and more appreciative than ever for the days, like today, when I feel well.  I sat on the patio after dinner tonight and listened to the cicadas sing love songs to one another.  It's one of my favorite sounds of summer. 

I had expected a bit of anxiety when I neared the end of writing this all out, but truthfully I feel calm.  This is my story, maybe not quite the beginning of it, but definitely nowhere close to the end.  It feels like as good a place as any to start telling you, and it came more easily to me than anything else I've written this summer.  I will continue to share what I learn about my relationship with food, and I hope to learn more about yours, simple and complicated, too. 

Just Picked: Broccoli

In just one week the head of broccoli went from being flat and buried at the center of the stalk to rising out of the middle and actually looking like broccoli.  Yesterday Tim was checking out the plants and said, "I  think this broccoli is going to bloom if we don't pick it." 

Pick it?  It was already time to pick it?  It seemed too early--I guess I assumed broccoli was more of a fall vegetable.  But he was right; Tim got a serated knife and sliced the head off at its base, leaving behind a large broccoli plant that we're not sure what to do with.  Do we leave it there?  Will it keep growing?  Produce more broccoli?  We have no clue.

Tim was in charge of dinner last night and he wanted to keep it simple: seared tuna steak, white rice, and steamed broccoli.  If you can imagine, the broccoli was the strongest broccoli-flavored broccoli I've ever tasted.  It was worth the wait it took to grow it.

Garden Update: 6 Weeks

It's not July-hot around here.  No sir, it's August-hot.  The steamy kind of hot where you start to perspire before you walk more than a few feet outdoors.  These are the type of days where Tim and I look at one another and ask, "How did we live in that townhouse without air conditioning?"

Because we were newlyweds.  In love.  It had a backyard.  And I was going to grow things. 

In reality, the backyard of that townhouse was barely 15 ft x 15 ft and was mostly shaded mud, but I tried anyway.  I hung one of those upside-down tomato plants in the one spot wayovertooneside where I thought it just might get enough sun.  It didn't really grow and I was disappointed. 

During that first year of marriage we added two little (and rambunctious) dogs to our family, and they needed more space, too.  We looked around in the city, but there wasn't anything that fit all of our needs--central air, a big yard with a fence, a couple of bedrooms, and a garage or basement for storage.  As a semi-last resort, we looked in the suburbs and found a place that met all of those requirements. 

The dogs like it--there is plenty of room inside and out for them to run, explore, and wrestle.  It's very quiet here, which is so different than anywhere I lived in the city.  There is a calm in the neighborhood that I can only attribute to people putting down roots.  It makes me feel calm, too, and I like it. 

The biggest perk, of course, is the vegetable garden.  Especially when it's this hot--August-hot--we just walk outside and turn on the hose, neither of us minding if the spray gets caught in the wind and blows back on us.

I know it seems like I just bragged about how much things where growing in the garden, but I'm still surprised every day at the progress of the plants.  The Mr. Stripey heirloom tomato is a monster of a bush, towering over our other plants and continuing to reach upwards.  And the White Wonder tomato plant has been officially nursed back to health and even has new blooms.  The Early Girl tomato plant that we have been growing in a pot on our patio has already given us four ripe tomatoes with many more green tomatoes maturing. 

Tim picked an eggplant today that was getting so big and heavy that the plant was tipping to the side.  I'm not exactly sure what to with just one.  Grill it?  Fry it?  Parmesan it?  Suggestions are appreciated.

As for the pumpkins, we have two that have really started to take off, going from the size of a softball to the size of a large melon in less than a week.  I can't find any information specifically about "compact pumpkins" online so hopefully I will intuitively know when they are full grown. 

How about you, reader? How is your garden coming along? 

It Only Took Four Years

Now that we've had a break from the rain, things are really starting to happen.

I didn't really understand before that a vegetable garden needs a balance of water and time to dry out.  Our plants were soaked--first by us with our best intentions and then by sequential days of dripping skies. When the leaves of our grape tomato plant began to curl and slightly brown, I started to worry. I even called my mom, hoping her infinite gardening wisdom may be able to salvage any damage we were causing. Sensing my stress, she suggested we go to a local garden center with a trimming of the affected tomato plant and ask them.

The very kind woman at Marvin's Organic Gardens took one look at our leaves and said, "It could be sick but it's more likely you're overwatering."  Oh. We walked back to our car, slightly embarrassed.  Its true. We knew it.  And helplessly we watched it rain for the next several days without much break. 

Finally there is a clear blue sky over my head. I'm typing this on our patio because it's too beautiful to be indoors. Or daisies, a gift dug up from a friend of a friend of a friend's yard (gifting plants is how gardeners say hello to each other), have finally unfurled its white petals to show its yellow faces.

Many of the plants are growing so quickly that they are escaping the cedar box and making their way into the yard.  There are a few new tiny butternut squash on the vine that are getting a little larger each day.  I'm already thinking about butternut squash risotto.

Perhaps the sweetest thing growing is the watermelon, which seems to be thriving and finally has a little mini fruit.   It appears to be getting slightly bigger every day, starting out the size of a dime and now almost as large as a half dollar. It feels especially good to see this plant thrive since I so wanted to grow one last summer.

And the "Tasty Slicer" cucumber is looking better, too. It has had mini cucumbers on it for a week or two now but they seemed premature and unlikely to progress. And yet this morning, when i pulshed aside the leaves to examine the fruit, a few were noticeably greener and bigger. It's a very good indication that the garden is recovering from the drenching.

The almost-red tomatoes are now a deep, orangey-red and sitting on the kitchen table.  Tim high-fived me last night when I picked them. He was practically reading my mind when he said, "It only took four years, but now we can say we grew something."