It's Good to be Green! (Garden Update!)

Move over Martha, apparently Mama (and Daddy) have a green thumb.

We may have been a little overzealous with the seeding, however, we did yield a few radish. The rest of our crop is due to be harvested throughout mid-June to mid-July. 

After close to 5 hours of pruning and weeding, we decided to use some hay to try and prevent the weeds from taking over. Since our first post, we've added a chicken wire fence to the perimeter of the garden to keep the pesky groundhog and rabbits out.

What has been the best part of the garden thus far has been the level of interest shown by Moira and Maeve. Almost daily, when we arrive home from school or other adventures out, they enjoying racing down to check on the garden. Maeve was the first to spy the purple blooms of pending eggplant and Mo has helped weed among the zucchini and squash.

While I am unsure how many consumable vegetables our garden will ultimately produce, I am excited that as of today is looks the part!

Love can be shitty

DISCLAIMER:
To Mom Mom and any other person who will be offended by vulgarity. I apologize in advance. I fully intend to offer a rosary up as penance for this piece, though I do think God has a sense of humor.

"Whatever you had planned, can be put off! I'm going to take care of dinner tonight!" he starts. "I've got to be in Philly today, at the Convention center which means I'll be right next to the the Market*. How about I pick up some sausage & fish for dinner? I'll throw it on the grill. We can have a nice meal. What do you think?"

*Reading Terminal Market. 

"Yippee! Sounds like a plan!" I eagerly respond. "Throw those chicken thighs back in the freezer."

Coming home from the park, just after six, he is in his glory in the kitchen preparing dinner.

"I got this fish, something called butterfish. It's like a white tuna. Supposedly it cooks well" he says as he holds up the sturdy piece of white fish. "I was considering doing a full fish."

I crinkle my nose in response.

"Glad I steered clear of the whole fish then. I got some green onions and asparagus too. I picked up a kielbasa for the girls. Should be a good dinner." he finishes, heading to the door. "I've got the grill warmed up. I'll be back in a few."

Dinner is fabulous.

The fish has a light buttery flavor which is further complimented by the garlic, onions, olive oil and lemon juice he uses as a marinade. The grilled asparagus and green onions have similar seasonings, creating quite a delicious meal.

And really, a meal cooked for you always does seem to taste that much better.

I quickly devour the fish.

"It's so light, yet has a steak like bite" I say. "Good pick, Babe."

"Thanks" he continues. "They had sword(fish), tuna, and some other stuff, but this looked pretty fresh. Plus, we like to try new things."

In between my own bites, I notice he has consumed little of his own.

"What's up?" I ask. "Aren't you feeling it?"

"Ah, it's okay." he says. "You know how it is. Most of the time when I cook something I end up not eating too much of it. It's just how it is. I cooked this because I know you love it."

I smile. "Thanks babe!" I offer.

"You know," he says, "the last time I think I really actually ate a lot of what I cooked was when I made that paella. Remember that? Ah, that was a good meal!"

"Yeah." I nod. "You did house that!"

I look down, and notice my plate is empty, save for a few pieces of scaly fish skin.

"Well, for me. You can totally pick up this butter fish again. Good pick!"

Having suffered a migraine earlier in the day, I head to bed earlier than usual.

I am surprised when I find Bry standing next to the bed, waking me up.

Glancing to the clock, it's just after midnight.

"Seriously?" I ask. "What's up? Is everything okay?"

"No." he says, in a serious tone. "You need to hear this."

I am awake now, anxiously awaiting his comment.

"What?" I ask. "What's up?"

"You're going to hate me. Remember that fish you just ate?" he starts, panic in his voice.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"You know how we've never heard about it before?"

"Yeah."

His voice is calm as he responds, "So I googled it and well, it can cause anal leakage."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I ask, my voice now just under shouting.

"Apparently, it's some sort of fish, called escolar but people also call it white tuna or butterfish. It has some thing in it similar to that shit that used to be chips. You know, that olestra crap?" he rambles.

"Wait a second, that olestra crap made people shit themselves, right? That stuff was horrible!" I say.

"Well, this fish has something similar in it and it causes people to basically have liquid poo." he says.

"Why do they sell this? Who would eat it then? Why didn't we know?" I ask, wondering what sane person would consume such a food.

"Can you believe people consider it a delicacy?" he continues, "Some people eat it as sushi. But the magic number is 6 ounces. From what I read, if you eat under 6 ounces you'll be fine."

I take a breath and then ask, "How much would say was my piece?"

"7 ounces." he can't help but laugh as he responds.

"Fuck me. How long will this shit last?" I say.

He looks to me and says, "Well that's the main reason I woke you up. I didn't want you freaking out, thinking you were just farting in the middle of the night, and then it ends up you shit yourself, not just poo, but orange-yellowish oil that you can't control. There seems to be a consensus between 30 minutes and 36 hours for you to process this."

I am in disbelief this time. "It might take a day and a half for me to shit this shit out?"

"Well" he finishes, "I just wanted you to know. You know, so you don't freak out. You know, just in case you shit yourself."

"I guess I should say thanks?" I ask. "Really, I mean thanks for the heads up, but don't get that fish ever again."

He inches closer, kissing me on my forehead. "Good night babe. I love you so much and I'm so sorry about this fish shit. Sleep tight."

"Yeah, thanks" I say, as I turn over adjusting the pillow under my head.

Thankfully, the cast iron stomach I have inherited from my father keeps the escolar from doing it's damage. However, the simple threat of its power keeps me from sleeping soundly that night, for fear of my own ass leaking orange-yellow excrement.

Needless to say, the next time Bry heads to the Market, butterfish will not be on the shopping list.


After that, holy emotional post Batman! that was my submission last week, I've decided to link this stellar piece with Yeah Write! I really can't wait to read this comments. Please feel free to submit ideas for alternative titles, because, well, anal leakage brings out the best in everyone!

About Last Night...

I am a food whore.

I will not pay full price for an article of clothes.
I don't go gaga over shoes.
I still sport my diaper bag in place of a purse.
Feel free to call me cheap when I shop.

However, tell me we have reservations and I swoon.
I read reviews for restaurants and my mouth starts to drool.
A good two top, a bottle or two of wine, and a tasting menu are perfection in my book.

Luckily, Bry shares in my bliss.
I guess it comes in handy that we're both fat and love food!
(no dietary restrictions here!)
When my mom offered to babysit earlier in the week, he couldn't get onto Open Table fast enough.

We live close to Philadelphia, whose dining scene is so much more than cheese steaks and hoagies. There are some truly phenomenal dining establishments. Iron Chef, Jose' Garces has six places, Iron Chef Morimoto has his sushi place, and then there's Stephen Starr. His places run the gauntlet from steakhouse, to Cuban, American and everything in between.

Finally, there's Marc Vetri.

He has four restaurants in the city, is working to update the city's Public school lunch program and with his own foundation, helps inner city youth understand the importance of healthy eating and healthy living.

An awesome guy outside of the kitchen, yes.

However it's the stuff he does inside which has made his eponymous place one of the most highly sought after places for a table. With a wait list of at least three months for Friday and Saturday nights, Vetri recently abandoned a la carte dining for tasting menu only. In a nutshell, his kitchen decides what each diner eats for each of the five savory, and one sweet course.

My bucket list is primarily filled with travel and dining. Screw skydiving or running a marathon. Mama wants foie gras! Vetri sits with the French Laundry, Per Se, Frontera Grill and a Joel Robuchon restaurant as my must eats.

Somehow the stars aligned this past week, when Bry discovered on Open Table one 8:45 reservation for two on Friday night.

The same Friday night my mother had offered to sleepover and babysit.

I swear it's that horseshoe shoved up his ass.

Fast forward to Friday night. After a train ride, and an early arrival, we finally are seated at our table. It's a little after nine, as I casually unfold the white napkin onto my lap. As I glance to the table in front, I spy a familiar face.

Holy shit, Bobby Freaking Flay is sitting at the table in front of us!

Seated two seats away, Michael Freaking Symon.

Who are we getting reservations at a place on a night where Bobby Flay & Michael Symon are enjoying the same menu?

Lucky mo-fos, that's for damn sure!

The highlight however, was not these chefs presence. Instead the meal itself was the stuff dreams are made.

Feel free to skim to the end if food doesn't do it for you.
Otherwise, hold on tight! Here are the highlights for me. Each course was served with a half glass of wine. As is customary at Vetri, each guest is given a different plate for each course. To ensure we got to try it all,  Bry and I switched plates half way through each. This was a bit contentious with a few, as we didn't want to give them up.

Upon arrival we were given a glass of Proseco  and crudite like no other, iced and served with the most divine balsamic dipping sauce. I had to hold off Bry from  dipping in his fingers.
The highlights included the following:

Diver scallops, with shaved black truffle 
The bowl was served with the lightest potatoes and I felt it melted in the mouth.

Sweet onion crepe with white truffle
This was hands down the best thing I've ever eaten. No exaggeration, this dish had no flaws. The onions had been slowly cooked for eight hours, leaving Bry and I wondering how he did it?

Spinach gnocchi with brown butter 
A plate Bry had difficulty sharing, as the gnocchi were heavenly little pillows that dissolved in your mouth. The brown butter tasted equally divine as I used a stray piece of crust from the bread basket.

Chestnut fettuccine with boar and cocoa 
The subtle note of chocolate made the earthy flavor of the chestnut and boar sing.

Bistecca alla fiorentina 
As lover of all things steak, I was quite happy we each were given our own plate of this, thus I could eat it all.

Chocolate Polenta Souffle
Heavenly, decadent, warm and served with some sort of ice cream.

Passion fruit curd doughnuts with coconut spuma 
The sweetness of the passion fruit paired with the fried doughnuts was only made more delicious with the soft coconut flavor in the spuma.

We have dined at some fabulous places in our lives. Locations overlooking the water, places with tradition and vast menus,  decadent meals used to celebrate births, graduations, and birthdays, and drunken glutenous affairs with good friends and conversation that have lasted for hours.

While those meals all have been memorable, this was special.  It truly seemed as if the stars aligned as my mom offering to babysit, Bryan procuring a last minute seat, and our small run in with celebrity. A night spent eating some of the best food in the world with my best friend truly takes the cake as the best meal ever.

Be jealous reader, even if you aren't a food whore like me.


Linking up the crew at Yeah Write.
 Perhaps I can sway some votes this week from the foodie crowd? Feel free to click and read some of the other talented participants. Finally vote on Thursday for your favorites!

Thanksging Prose

'Twas the night before Thanksgiving,

And while the children did rest.

He hurried in the kitchen,

Doing what he does best.

His ritual perfected, as 

We'll share a huge feast,

Of stuffing, potatoes, corn,

And an organic roast beast.

Chopping, dicing,

His menu, so grand.
My job so simple,

Just offer a hand.

Our table is set

Eighteen, can you believe it?

There's room at this table,

We'll make it, we will fit!

The hurry, the panic,

Sets in night before.

What were we thinking?
What is in store?

A house filled with family,

Our tradition, our Day.

I cannot in the heart of me, 

Think of a better way. 

The chaos, the bodies, 

The drinking, the food.  

The laughter, the smiles, 

The altogether good mood. 

Each year I feel lucky 

Altogether, we're blessed.

To have a home, a family,

A day with limited stress.

I am thankful for family,

The young and the old.

For the food on the table,

and the vodka- kept cold!

It's easy to complain,

When things don't go your way,

But I'm so glad we have the respite

Each year of Thanksgiving Day.
A time where we truly think,

About all we treasure.

How we made it another year,

Survived all we've weathered.

I am lucky this year,

So much to be thankful for.

A husband that cooks, works hard,

I adore.

Two lovely daughters,

Filled with energy and spark, 

Running, Laughing, 

From sunrise to dark.  

Family and friends

Whose support, unreal.

Many who will join us,

And share in this meal.

So Happy Thanksgiving to you,

Whomever you are,

May your days be surrounded

With love near or far.

Linking up with Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop. This week I combined the following prompts.
2.) What traditions do you carry on with your family each year?

4.) Write a poem about something you’re thankful for this Thanksgiving.

Brunch

Descending the cement staircase, I push open the heavy metal door. The voices echo throughout the large auditorium that also serve as the school's gymnasium and cafeteria. Rectangular tables are pushed together as a sea of bodies fill the space. Eagerly, I begin searching for a familiar face.
Waving his arm high, I spy my father. Dressed in his khaki pants and polo, he leisurely sips a mug of coffee. Holding the red ticket in his hand, I rush over.
Having survived another hour of catechism class, this breakfast is most appreciated. Once a month, the reward for my Catholic duty, breakfast in the basement of our church's school.
Tossing the yellow folder onto the table, I throw pleasantries at the adults at the table.
Our church is small, and many of the families have been parishioners for decades. Those faces are so familiar, as I grew up amongst them. The kisses I offer on cheeks has been dolled out many times before, and serves as another obstacle to procuring my brunch.
Returning to the doorway, I hand my red ticket to the matronly ladies working the door. Nodding, they permit me to walk past, and find my place in the line.
Within minutes, I am at the metal food stand. The blue plastic tray in hand, I grab the utensils from their plastic containers. Fork, spoon, and knife placed on the tray as I grab a few extra napkins.  I spy my great Uncle Mickey behind the glass divide. Seeing me, he offers me a smile and asks if I want some extra pancakes.
Declining, instead I ask for a glass of milk. Taking the plastic cup, he fills it three quarters of the way. I could choose one of the small plastic glasses of orange juice or tomato, but milk works best for this feast.
Handing the plate to the next man in the line, I move down a bit. Wearing his white hat, I ask for more of the potatoes. His home fries are legendary, and I never can seem to have enough on my plate. Placing the metal spoon into the container, he dollops a heavy heaping onto my plate.
My own smile widens as I decide in that moment my mom and sis will be jealous and no, they can't have that extra bite.
It is only a few years later I will meet his granddaughter in homeroom during our freshmen year of high school, and become her best friend. We are given his recipe, but never successfully can recreate those potatoes. On this day, the man in the white hat is simply the potato guy.
My plate is handed off to the next elderly gentlemen. Another great uncle, I suppose, as I simply categorize them all as relatives.The men, the older members of our church, have this system mastered.  Scrambled eggs and pieces of bacon find their way onto the plate, and then a piece of ham steak and one plump sausage.
Carefully he extends the overfilled plate to me across the counter. I grab a dinner roll and pat of butter. Placing it all on my tray, I am ready.
The trek to the table is harrowing, as I navigate amongst the crowd of those in their Sunday bests while balancing a plate of food, utensils and a glass of milk. Dodging winter coats and cups of coffee, I find my family.
Placing the plate before me, I settle into the metal chair. I place the sausage on my father's plate, as he adds ketchup  and offers me thanks.
I take my fork and begin.
My most favorite place to eat as a child: Sunday brunch in our Church's basement.


This post comes at a difficult point in my life, as only this week we have discovered the Archdiocese is closing our Church. My memories of our small, neighborhood Church fill my childhood, as both sides of my family were members. Initially a parish for those of Slovak decent, the parish was like family, filled with piergoies, haluski, & stuffed cabbages.  While I no longer live in the area, I still considered it "My Church"

.
This post was inspired by Mama Kat's Pretty Much World Famous Writer's Workshop
3.) Write about your favorite place to eat when you were a child.

Share

The silver bowl sits atop the counter. Overflowing with sweetened bliss. The candy accumulated from our three (yes 3!) trick or treating adventures piles high.
They know the drill.
Finish your meal, and as reward, on piece awaits.
Will it be a package of lemonade flavored Mike & Ikes?
new this season, I suppose, as Just Born was a sponsor at the Boo at the Zoo event on Sunday
Perhaps, it will be a packet of sweet tarts?
Their sweetened tart flavor causing ones tongue and face to curl up.
Chocolate is always a good choice. Will it be, Hershey's bar? Mini Snickers? Milky Way?

She turns her face towards the bowl. Balancing herself on the chair, she stands above.
Focused on her task.
She fingers a package of M&M's.
Ah, Good choice, I think.
But releases them, and continues to dig.
Laffy Taffy, Smarties, Starbursts, and Swedish Fish:
Each item examined, closely drawn to her face, then released.
Back into the pool of candy.
The orange wrapper is visible, and I notice it.
How can I not?
It's my most favorite Halloween candy, Reese's Peanut Butter cups.
Yes, cups.
Plural.
Two cups.
The next street over most of the houses give out full size bars, and this piece a relic of that stroll.
Perhaps she has not seen it, but alas, her fingers find the package.
With conviction, she says, "I choose this!".
Raising the orange wrapped candy over her head, I fake a smile.
"Oh good" I sigh, "Peanut Butter cups are so yummy".
I had planned to eat those after bedtime.
To savor each yummy chocolate peanut buttery cup alone, in private, without tiny fingers begging for a morsel.

Damn her.

Then she does it.
"You want to share, Mama?" she starts. "I got two. One for me and one for you".
Who is this creature? This blue eyed, dirty blond child willing to share her Halloween candy which she earned, where did she come from?

Damn her.

"Of course, I'll share". I say.
The smile stretches across her face and she takes a giant bite.
"I like peanut butter cups". she says.
"Me too, Mo. Me too."

So Thankful

The table set.
Exquisitely decorated place mats, courtesy of Mo define each setting, as the anticipation of Thanksgiving dinner swirls with the scents from the kitchen.
Our tradition, bringing our respective families together for Thanksgiving is in full effect. They sit in the living room, waiting, snacking, and enjoying "not" cooking.
The turkey removed from the oven, resting under an aluminum foil tent. It's perfectly golden brown skin crisp and inviting sits on the counter.
The buzz of the timer rings, as cornbread stuffing with crisp bacon and sweet potato casserole are removed. After a few years of experimentation,  the perfect balance of sweet potato, maple syrup and butter has been achieved, creating a deliciously yummy dish.
On the stove top, pots of green beans and corn simmer, as the asparagus with roasted garlic finishes it's roast. Taking the large pot of potatoes over to the sink, the water is dumped. Milk, salt, and an obscene amount of butter is added. Under the weight of the masher, the potatoes turn into a creamy velvety mash. The spoon meets mouth.
Perfection.
Twisting the handle, the jelled cranberries are poured into the plate. One of the few items not created from scratch. The twist and pop of the biscuits from their cylindrical container, the other.
Transferring the vegetables into serving bowls, the feast begins to take shape. Moving into the dining room, the bowls line the center of the table. Serving spoons are matched to their respective container.
The crowd begins to gather. Drinks in hand, as they find their seats, awaiting the main course.
I enter the dining room, pausing for a moment to look at those around the table. I find my seat, as he enters. Carrying the white tray, the turkey is presented.

Damn him.
Another fabulous Thanksgiving dinner under his belt.

Daddy teaching Mo the ways of the turkey

Turkey placemats care of Moira

Dinner

Linking up with Mama Kat
3.) Describe a meal your spouse actually cooks better than you.

Loss

Things have started to unravel.
It was only a matter of time.
Slowly,
Almost like a thief slipping in an open window,
It changed
Until it no longer could hold up its responsibilities. 
Waste.
As I deposited its contents in the garbage,
Salvaging what I could,
What was necessary,
Into the blue cooler,
The tears streamed down my face.



Damn Refrigerator!



Over $400, three days of  letting the fridge thaw then plugging it again, and a trip to the grocery store mid-week, our fridge is back in working order.
This bliss was short lived.
Not more then 72 hours later, our loss continued as our oven and cook top stopped working too. Another $400 and an additional wait for a part and visit left another hole in our wallet.
Loss.

This week's theme is "Loss." Now, you can take this prompt in any number of different directions. If you'd like, you can keep things light-hearted still and write about losing your best pen, or you can write about the loss of a pet or loved one. The beauty of these one word prompts is that you can take them almost anywhere

Yum!

In case you haven't realized it, I seem to partaking in quite a few writing prompts lately. Most have been heavy; posts that make me think. The ones that leave me scratching my head a bit, or needing a stiff drink. The Good Life offered a new prompt, and if you know anything about me, it's a winner: FOOD!

So Bill from Smells like Borscht suggested for us to do list of ten dedicated to food. Anything to do with food.

Favorite Foods:

Dining out edition

1. Mushroom Risotto

La Gaiac Restaurant, Le Toiny Hotel, St. Barth's

I still dream of this creamy dish. Chewing was optional, as it melted in my mouth.  Our first night in paradise, this was the appetizer I had and now, six years later, it's still one of my most favorite meals, ever.

2. Pisces Aphrodite

Pisces Restuarant, Key West, FL

The smell of this appetizer was heavenly, and the fragerance lingered for the entire meal. Wine, butter, puffed pastry, and shellfish, heaven.  

3. Aranci Cakes with vodka sauce

Peasants of Hamilton,  Hamilton, NJ

Whether an appetizer or an entree, Bry and I would decide in the car whose turn it was to get these risotto cakes. The vodka sauce held the perfect balance of tomato and cheese, complimenting the fried cake stuffed with mozarella swimmingly.

4. Paella a la Valenciana 

(preferably with a multitude of pitchers of sangria)

Sevilla Restaurant, New York, NY

Once upon a time, we lived but a train ride away from New York City. Many a Friday or Saturday evening, we waited balancing glasses of red sangria in hand out the door onto the sidewalk. Often we'd pass on the middle tables, instead waiting for one we liked. Always, ordering the Paella a la Valenciana and never having a disappointing meal. Lobster, chicken, chorizo, clams, mussels, and lots of saffron infused rice. 
 Sigh, some day we will make it back.

5. Chips on Fish

SeaBlue Restaurant, Borgata Hotel and Casino, Atlantic City, NJ

When we dine out, usually I order fish. Upon discovering a fish coated in thin sliced potato, I had to try and I was not disappointed. A new way to do fish and chips.

6. Blackened Catfish Filet

410 Bank Street, Cape May, NJ

Bananas, Tomatoes, and Catfish together sound like a strange combination. Surprise! Try phenomenal!  With a menu filled with fabulous dishes, of wish I've had most, I still look forward to the catfish.

7. Crab Fries with Cheese Sauce

Various Chickie & Pete Locations

Not everything requires utensils, or even a table for that matter. At a baseball game, with a cold beer, the salty, spicy seasonings on the french fries made only tastier as it's dipped into a cheese sauce.
Eating with your fingers never is better.

8. Fluffernutter Sundae

Duffer's Restaurant, Wildwood, NJ

There may or may not be a rumor circulating that I have eaten this entire sundae even after finishing a sandwich and fries prior. But seriously, peanut butter ice cream, peanut butter sauce, marshmallows, peanuts, homemade whipped cream, and a part of pizelle, would you leave any remaining?
 I think not.

9. Cheese plate,... no short rib flat bread, ...wait, the mushrooms,

Forget it, the entire menu!!!

Amada, Philadelphia, Pa

There is a reason Jose Garces is an Iron Chef. His restaurant of authentic Spanish tapas has no bad plates. Having done the tasting menu, on two different occasions and also had the experience of dining with a large party, we have tried just about everything.  It's all delicious. Cheese pairings with honey and nutella, flatbreads with chorizo, shrimp, and white beans, lamb meatballs with shaved cheese, my mouth is watering.

The sangria isn't too bad either.

10. Pork Roll, Egg, & Cheese

Bagel Chateau, Westfield NJ

Imagine starting the day with eggs, cheese, and pork roll smothered in ketchup between an everything bagel. Whether it is consumed to combat the ill effects of a little too much drinking the night before or to satisfy the hunger post-work out, I can think of no more perfect breakfast, preferably with a side of chocolate milk.

That's my list. I can only imagine that as soon as I press "post" more favorites will circulate my brain, however at this moment, these are my top ten in no particular order. Being a mom to two little ones, my dining out options now mainly consist of the diner or Chick Fil A, however, every so often, I dust off the grown up clothes and together Bry and I head out to dinner free of sippy cups and chicken nuggets. 

Thanks to Jen at Runnermom for introducing me to The Good Life's Monday Listicles!

Little Thieves

The tractor and wagon pull up to the gate and the farmer descends down to meet us. We usher the kids onto the wagon, empty cartons waiting to be filled.
"Please keep seated during the ride out to the field", the farmer instructs as he walks back to the tractor.
Mo and A start clapping their hands in anticipation. Maeve and M join in. Their toddler version of clapping more robotic then their older siblings, yet it is obvious they too are excited. With a stutter, the wagon jerks as the tractor begins it's tow towards the fields.
"I no like cherries, Miss Danielle" Mo informs my friend.
"She has been really picky with fruit lately" I continue. "I'm lucky if she eats anything more then bananas, pears, and grapes."
"My kids will eat anything" Danielle relays as we pull up to the field of cherry trees.
The farmer returns, instructing us on the variety of cherries available, as we slowly start down the stairs towards the field of cherry trees.
"I no pick cherries, Mama" Mo says.
"Let's just try!" I add, attemtping to expand her fruit palate.
The farmer then adds, "Please limit your tasting to one type of each cherry. These fruits have pesticides on them, so more then one isn't recommended".
Danielle and I nod in acknowledgement as the farmer returns to the tractor and pulls away.
"I'll be back in twenty-five minutes or so to pick you up and take you to the blueberry patch" he informs us as he pulls away.
I look around. An extended family heads towards the left side of the cherry trees grandmother, children, and parents while Danielle and I with our four children head towards the trees on the right.
"Do you think it's okay to eat one?" I ask as I pull a dark red cherry down from a branch.
"Yeah, just eat one." Danielle agrees. "But not this kind" she adds, as she spits a cooking cherry onto the ground.
"I want to try one" A asks.
Danielle gives one to her, and then Mo decides to try.
"I no like the seeds Mama" she says, "Can you get rid of the seeds for me?"
I bit another cherry in half, and give the seedless piece to Mo.
"That's yummy! I like it" she adds.
I feel a tugging on my leg and look down to find Maeve.
"Ahh!" she squeals, gesturing to the cherry.
I repeat the motion for Maeve and into her mouth goes the piece of cherry.
"Mmmmmm" she says as she points to more cherries.
I look over to Danielle and find her doing the same action for her son and daughter.
"Let's pick some off the trees! I want cherries!" Mo yells. "I like them!"
I pull the large branch down, presenting various bunches of ripe cherries to the girls. A and Mo reach their hands and pull the red fruit down. Equally adding cherries into their baskets and mouths. The bright red juice staining their little fingers and as the same red juice runs down their chins as they attempt to spit out the seeds.
As we continue down the row, I notice A's hand is picking less off the trees. I watch as she picks the cherry from her basket and plops the ripe fruit into her mouth.
"Do you really think the pesticide will be an issue if they eat more then one piece?" Danielle asks.
I respond, "I sure hope not. Our kids have devoured a lot more then one each!"
About fifteen minutes have passed, as we head back to the water station and picnic tables. I survey our basket and notice that it seems significantly lighter and less full then I remembered a few minutes earlier. I then look to Mo. Cherry juice has stained her fingertips, while red juice drips down her chin.
"I just want one more!" she says, and Maeve reaches for another cherry from the basket. A and M are doing the same thing.
That is where the cherries went.
"Get out the wipes!" I yell, as I hear the wagon in the distance. Danielle and I take turns wiping the evidence away from our little fruit thieves.
The farmer returns, and opens the wagon for us. As we climb on, I glance over to the family who joined us picking at this spot. Multiple baskets are filled to capacity with both black and golden cherries. Their final haul is impressive and costly. Meanwhile, our own anemic baskets carry twenty cherries and twelve cherries respectively, hardly a dent into our pocketbooks. The damage definitely would have been far greater if each piece our foursome had consumed on field would have been added to our total.
We head to the blueberry fields and then the strawberry patch. In an ideal world, Danielle and I would have reprimanded our children for consuming all the cherries, and in reaction, every blueberry their little fingers would have picked would make it into the basket.
Alas, reality wrote a different story.
The blueberry fields and then the strawberry patch both provide a smorgasbord of fruit for our children.
The wagon slowly rolls back into the waiting area, as the farmer brings the tractor to a halt.
"Be sure to head into the greenhouse to pay for your fruit", the farmer instructs, as he points to the large structure.
I assess our final haul, and to classify it measly, is an understatement.
"I've got five bucks and some spare change in the car" Danielle says, as she balances M on her hip while helping A down the stairs of the wagon.
"Uh, I don't think that's going to be a problem" I say. Maeve on my hip. Her little fingers attempting to steal another stray blueberry. "No more!" I inform her as I move her fingers away.
"We going to pay now, Mama?" Mo asks, as we enter the greenhouse. "I wanna eat a snack!" she says.
"Yeah, a snack!" A adds.
"Seriously?" Danielle and I say simultaneously.
"You all just ate a ridiculous amount of blueberries, cherries, and strawberries" she adds.
I look over to Maeve. Down the middle of her blue shirt, a faint red stain is evident. Strawberry juice has done this deed.
Ahead of me, a different family places their haul onto the scale.
"That will be $20.18" the cashier informs as the lady hands over the exact change. The family walks away, their baskets overflowing with produce.
Slowly, I place our sparse baskets onto the scale. My eyes roll to the side, not wanting to make eye contact.
Looking at our slim baskets, it is obvious that more was consumed then purchased, however without a glare or comment, the cashier says, "$4.30".
Danielle throws three dollars into my hands, as I fumble in my own wallet for money.
"I got this" she says.
"No" I reply. "My baskets are more filled then yours".
As we walk back to the car she says, "Think about all the fruit my kids ate in the field. Really, this is a deal!"
She is right.
It is a deal, plus from this trip I discovered Mo and Maeve will eat cherries, strawberries, and blueberries! Sweet!

Delish!

Wordless Wednesday!

A Night Out, A Night In

Yesterday Bry and I went out!
YES!
My sister stayed with the girls while we had a neighborhood wine tasting event lined up. Mo could not get us out the door fast enough as she loves "G" so much. I think it has something to do with the fact she tells my sister what to do, and my sister listens.
This sounds like a great plan except:
1. There were torrential downpours the whole evening, making our trek out harrowing.
2. Neither Bry or I really wine drinkers per se, so if someone asked how the red was tasting, my answer "Um, good?!?" probably was not what they were looking for.
3. Out of the over 60 people at the hall, we only knew six.
Have you ever been at an event and wondered, what the hell were you doing there?
That's how we felt. It's not like we were treated like lepers or anything, however it seems that once people have a little too much to drink, in this case Italian wine, they seem to stay closer to their friends.
The problem I think for Bry and I is that we're out of the loop. Our kids are babies, while most of the people there have school age kids, so our social circles haven't yet crossed.
Was it a bad event?
No.
Would it have been more fun for us if we knew more people?
Most likely, yes.
So, at around ten we left.
And we had our own Italian fest.

This is what was left at 7:30 am the next morning when I woke up with the girls.
And what's better the next morning after consuming a little too much of Italian sparkling wine?
Pizza, ahem, Cold pizza of course!

Thanks G and hopefully our next venture out will be a little more socially successful!

Winter "One"derland

I'm not a professional party planner and the Cake Boss doesn't have to worry about his job, but if I do say so myself, I did a pretty good job planning a small Winter "One"derland theme first birthday party for Maeve.
I would love to take credit for this idea, however a few years back another mom on my message board did this theme. A few weeks before the party, I did a little searching and discovered these two parties which I used for inspiration: Tomkat studio (She is a professional!) and this one Him & Her plus four.
Both of these parties used a blue, white, & red color scheme. At first, I was worried it would look too Patriotic, but as my sister said "It actually looks quite wintry!"
I made this banner and cut out snowflakes from white paper:


Guests dined on BBQ from Sweet Lucy's for lunch and dessert was a spread of snowflake cookies, m&m's, and yellow cupcakes w/blue butter cream icing

Maeve's smash cake was a cute little snowman I made from a yellow 8in round cake:

Unfortunately, she was a little tired during cake time and hardly made a dent in it!



Since this was a small family party, there were only four kids old enough to play games. We played a few rounds of pin the carrot on the snowman. It was a hit!
I made the snowman out of two pieces of tag board, some leftover scrapbooking materials, and the blue paper is wrapping paper that also doubled as table runner.






When the kids weren't eating or playing the game, they were in the playroom and found our dress-ups!


As always, everyone seemed to end up sitting around the dining room table as Maeve opened a few gifts.


Uncle Jo-Jo & Aunt Coll found a book entitled "The Tickle Monster" complete with Tickle gloves
Grammie & Popsie got Maeve her first American Girl Doll- A Bitty Baby
We were so lucky to have so many of our family members share in Maeve's special day.



The only thing missing, pictures of Bry with the family! I guess we'll have to ensure we get those at Mo's third birthday party. Yes, I've already starting planning that party! All I have to say is get ready to "Follow the yellow brick road!"
As always, photos courtesy of the fabulously talented Ashley Pierce Photography

Thankful!

This year I feel so very blessed,
To have a home that is a mess.
The turkey's been eaten and food packed away,
It's almost time for the next holiday.
It's amazing how quickly the time goes by,
It seriously seems like a blink of an eye.
We shared the holiday with family so dear,
And won't do it again for another year.
A house filled with family makes me smile,
Even if they're here for a short while.

Last year we started a new traditon the night before Thanksgiving. We did it again this year, but this time with two helpers.

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Just a Random Lunchtime

Having two kids is hard.

Having two kids under two years apart is really hard.

There I said it!


Most days are a blur at best. Between nursing sessions and cleaning up spit up, (My kids really are spit up machines for the first few months!) to laundry and walks the days seem to fly by. We (Mo, Maeve, & I) still make it to the grocery store once a week and music together twice a week. That is until 5 O'clock, when I start counting down the hours and then minutes until Bry comes home.
I took a minute, though, the other day just to enjoy my girls during lunch. Maeve really loves the bumbo seat, THANK GOD! and so during mealtime she seems content just watching as Mo and I eat.

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Every so often I catch myself thinking about whst our lunches will be like in a few months, when Maeve actually eats or even further in the future when there will be the three of us chatting about our day and a huge smile comes onto my face.

Lunch Dates

I have a secret.
Mo and I go out just the two of us for lunch about three times a month, sometimes more and I'm almost embarrassed to tell where we go.
Okay, I'll admit, my favorite lunch place with Mo is:
Chick-fil-a!
Now, I know fast food is BAD! Kid's meals set up your child for a lifetime of addicting to trans-fats, and french fries and gasp....toys as a reward for eating. I also know of at least four locations within five miles of our house and when I was checking out their website discovered there are eleven locations within ten miles!
I however, LOVE Chick-Fil-A. Not just because their traditional sandwich on a whole wheat bun with tomato & lettuce is especially yummy, or their homemade lemonade is the fine balance between bitter & sweet, but for a few other reasons that I think those other fast food establishments should pick up on.
1. The kids meal for Mo is an appropriate size for a toddler/pre-schooler. The four nuggets actually resemble real chicken, and I substitute their fries for a fruit cup. I bribe Mo with grapes, strawberries, apples, & orange pieces in exchange for bites of the chicken and for the most part it works.
2. I have never had a bad experience with their customer service. Even with a toddler in tow, they have been kind to her and go out of their way to make sure I have a plastic place mat set up and that her highchair is clean.
3. This is really the main reason I frequent Chick-Fil-A
Once you order, they BRING YOU YOUR FOOD! I have yet to attempt balancing a Happy Meal and my own order while following my toddler through the maze of tables at a McDonald's or Burger King, which would mean I would forgo ketchup, a straw or even napkins, to ensure my order makes it to a table while my kid gets strapped in. AAAAHHH The thought makes me cringe!
At Chick-Fil-A, they bring you over your order, and then ask, if you need anything else and actually get it for you! When you say "thanks", they respond "My pleasure". I'm guessing that these employees really aren't as jovial as they appear, but keep faking away, because I buy it! I keep coming back!
They also have people hired as "greeters" who sole responsibility is to make sure you are okay with your dining experience. She or he will even offer to refill your drink...for free or throw out your garbage for you.
In a nutshell, I feel like these little lunch outings are good experiences for Mo and I to bond a bit and get her used to the idea of eating in public. Grant it we're not eating four star cuisine, but it's still a different setting then our kitchen and I think, she enjoys it too! Maybe someday we can try a more refined place, but for now, I think I'm in the mood for chicken tomorrow.

Christmas Recap

Have you ever been inspired to do something and plan for it for a few weeks or maybe a month or two, only to have the day come and you think, what the hell was I thinking?


That pretty much was Christmas this year.
A few months ago, Bry and I were watching a PBS special on holiday traditions associated with Eastern Europe. Many of the traditions I saw were foreign to me since my great-grandparents had immigrated to the United States many years ago. There were, however, some foods I had vivid memories of my grandparents cooking for both Christmas and Easter. As I watched, I became entranced in the stories of making pierogies and stuffed cabbage, of creating baskets on Easter to have blessed, of pickling eggs, and creating haluski with the leftovers. As I sat there watching, I relayed these memories to Bry and told him how much the food had been such an intergal part of our holiday festivities.
It was then, I got the brainstorm to start our own Christmas traditon. Inspired of course by my grandparents and Slovak and Polish heritage, Christmas day would now be a buffet of these foods from growing up: pierogies, stuffed cabbage, ham, & kielbsa. Bry offered to go to the Polish Market and pick up the hams, kielbsa, and sauerkraut, while I decided I would make my grandfather's pierogie recipe and stuffed cabbage. I asked my mom to help me with the pierogies, as they require quite a bit of elbow grease and did some online research for stuffed cabbage.
The months, then weeks, then days to Christmas quickly went by until it was the weekend before the big day.
My mom had agreed to babysit Mo so Bry and I could go to a holiday party, and then the next day, Sunday, we would together make piergoies. I would then make the filled cabbages on Monday or Tuesday, leaving Wednesday and Thursday for last minute baking, and gift wrapping.
Oh, how my plans were wrong!
Besides the fact that Mother Nature dropped two feet of snow on us on Saturday into Sunday, I was left to make the piergoies by myself. I did them in parts, making the mashed potatoes on Sunday, doing half a batch of rolling and cutting and boiling on Monday, and finishing them on Wednesday. On Tuesday I made some more cookies as I realized both Bry and my own cookie habit had put a large dent in our supply.
As for the stuffed cabbage, I purchased all the meat and ingredients on my weekly grocery shopping trip on Monday. Not wanting the ground meat to spoil, I put it in the freezer with the intention of taking it out the night before I intended to use it.
Again, intentions were good, however reality was different. Having made the last of the piergoies on Wednesday night, I forgot to take out the meat, until close to noon on Christmas Eve!
It ended up being a blessing in disguise as my sister came to our place around nine on Christmas Eve. No better time then the present to figure out exactly how to steam the cabbage leaves, make the right meat/rice ratio (don't get me started on rice! I hate my f--king stovetop!) and actual assembly. But about an hour and half later, we did it! We make two dozen filled cabbages that actually resembled the filled cabbages of my youth.
Christmas day and the twenty-sixth were are whirlwind. We had family and friends coming in and out all day, and I received quite a number of compliments on the stuffed cabbage. My future sister-in-law asked if she could be part of the pierogie party next year, and I defintely plan on making it a group effort. Bry took reigns of actual prep work during the two days and couldn't get the pierogies fried up quick enough! I'm guessing they were a hit!
Not too shabby for a 35 week pregnant lady who is carrying all in the front!
While I don't have any pictures of the feast, I promise next year I'll take some. I do have to include some from the past few days.

Christmas Eve,





Christmas Morning




Christmas Day





December 26