postaweek2011

How does your garden grow?

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Here we go again. Since the end of February, we’ve been enjoying strangely-early, spring-like temperatures here in N.C. While I’m absolutely not complaining, that’s been a slap-in-the-face wake-up call that I need to get moving in my garden.

Last year was my first experiment with growing anything other than houseplants or herbs. I mean, I’ve killed bamboo. But somehow it was successful, and I enjoyed quite a bounty for my measly efforts. Along the way, I learned some lessons, so I had it together enough to start my seedlings early, the first week of February. Last fall, as our warm weather continued through November, I picked late tomatoes and saved their seeds by drying them on paper towels. When I was planting my other seeds this year, I just popped those off the paper towel, and they’re growing! Pretty neat.

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Cooking Spree: Chinese Takeout

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For many years I lived in the heart of NYC, where anything you can imagine was delivered straight to my door:  food, groceries, laundry, cupcakes, wine, even prescription medicine. That came in really handy when I had the flu and could order Gatorade, a bagel and some chicken soup from the deli downstairs. You become friendly with your regular delivery folk, in an awkward, overly-familiar kind of way. When the laundry comes back, you try to meet their eyes, smile and thank them at the door while hoping they weren’t the ones folding your clean underwear earlier that day.

In Manhattan, almost all restaurants deliver, and you’ll find a folder crammed full of countless menus in every NYC kitchen. When I didn’t feel like cooking, I reveled in my ability to order takeout from anywhere at anytime. I explored the world’s cuisines from the comfort of my own couch — sushi, Indian, Thai, Italian, Mexican, Hawaiian, Greek. Now that I’m back in the suburban South, my options are limited to pizza. Or pizza. Needless to say, I don’t have food delivered anymore.

That’s okay, since I discovered how to make some of my favorite Chinese food at home. I give you sweet & sour chicken with coconut rice and sesame noodles. I won’t claim either to be authentic, but they’ll do for me.
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Culinary Bucket List: Chicory Coffee

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One of the horrors of my life so far is that I haven’t been to New Orleans. Nope, I’ve never strolled the French Quarter past the wrought-iron trellises as jazz wafts through the air. And now I’m way too old and modest to road trip to Mardi Gras to drink hurricanes, flash my goods for beads and stumble around Bourbon Street. I kind of regret that I didn’t visit before Katrina, though now the city gets to show off its pluck and battle scars, which can only give it more character.

I’ve always thought New Orleans would have the same sensibility as Savannah, since they share deep historical roots, stifling humidity, a dark undercurrent of voodoo and mysticism and a general style of “elegant decay.” This is shameful to admit, but a lot of what I know about New Orleans is only pieced together from scenes in The Pelican Brief, those Zatarain’s commercials or The Real World: New Orleans. But I hear it’s a great foodie town. And that brings me to the next item on my culinary bucket list.

Today’s Eatocracy blog has a nice roundup on traditional New Orleans fare, and there are a lot of things listed that I’ve never eaten. I’ve never tasted true filé gumbo, sucked the brains out of a crawdad, enjoyed a shrimp po’ boy or a mouth-searing dish of jambalaya. I am confounded by something called étouffée, but I do enjoy saying it over and over again. Of all those foodie experiences though, my number one goal is to someday enjoy a cup of chicory coffee. Keep reading »

Obsessions: Nutella

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I totally forgot to mention that Saturday was World Nutella Day!

I’ve made no secret of my obsession with the smooth, chocolatey, hazelnutty goodness that is Nutella. And I actually commemorated this year’s anniversary quite by accident.

My obsession with Nutella goes pretty far back, to a holiday season years ago when my mom’s cousin used it to make her White Trash (a special recipe for another day!). At the time, Nutella had not yet gained its popularity stateside, and it was a hard-to-find, gourmet delicacy (moms also weren’t yet being encouraged to spread it on toast for their children’s “nutritious” breakfast. Do what?). In the ensuing years, many of us made Nutella memories while traipsing around Europe. Mine mostly involve obsessively sticking my spoon (okay, fingers) in the jar while driving on the wrong side of the road. It was totally worth the scary danger. Now Nutella is available to the masses — they even sell it at Wal-Mart, which I guess is how you know you’ve really arrived. Keep reading »

Hello, old friend.

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Whoops, it’s been awhile since I last posted, which means I’ve already blown my post-a-week resolution this year. But my mama told me that if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. And I’ve had a whole lot of nothing nice to say recently.

The good news is that my dear friend (and technically third cousin) Maggie came to visit this weekend. Sometimes it really takes an out-of-towner to reintroduce you to the very city you live in. I mean, I was born here and I know nothing of the city’s history nor what you do when you’re a tourist. I absolutely take it all for granted. So, I became reacquainted this weekend with an old friend, the place I now call home (again).

Maggie brought a guidebook that directed us to Mert’s Heart and Soul, a southern soul food joint with a Cajun flair, in the heart of uptown. It was a.ma.zing. Think warm cornbread with butter, salty collard greens, true southern mac & cheese, lightly fried catfish. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that we exclaimed, “That’s the best ___ I’ve ever tasted!” after every single bite. I had never heard of Mert’s before, and I would never have known it was there but for the guidebook suggestion and Maggie’s need to satisfy a craving for down-home cooking while she’s in the South.
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A sense of self.

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I am not a morning person.

So this weekend I had to peel myself out of bed early on Saturday, sleepily stumble into Starbucks for a grande latte and cram down some breakfast-on-the-run, all in the name of education. As you can imagine, I was not looking forward to it.

Luckily, though, I didn’t have to double fist the caffeine like I thought I would. It was actually really interesting.

Leadership is the focus of my business school program, so we all have to take this year-long seminar that meets all day on four Saturdays throughout the year. They’ll put us through just about every personality test and assessment that exists, and I’ve been told by other students that I will learn more about myself than I ever wanted to know. But I’m looking forward to embracing that knowledge — this class was the key seller to me when I was researching the program, and I’m hoping the self-actualization will tell me what I really should be doing with my life. I know this can’t be it. Keep reading »

No place like home.

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Today marks my 6th day in a row being at home. Last week I was felled by the plague (again), but I worked from home while chugging soup, hot tea and Delsym. Then I canceled all plans for the weekend to rest, except for one short jaunt to the grocery store for the requisite pre-storm eggs and milk. Come Monday, half a foot of snow and ice fell. And here’s the scariest part:  I haven’t minded one bit. I’ve been completely relishing in my homebodiness while “snowed in” — I’ve watched TV, I’ve cleaned my house, I’ve read a book, I’ve talked on the phone, I’ve watched some movies, I’ve made dinner. I’ve even had time to bake two loaves of bread.

Bread might be my favorite food, and I will eat it in any form:  a sandwich, toast, crackers, rolls, scones, pancakes, even croutons. (I obviously would fail miserably at the Atkins diet.) You probably know that I a) enjoy a culinary challenge, b) am wary of what’s in my food, c) bake to offset stress and d) like preserving the slow ways of cooking. For those reasons, I started baking my own bread about a year ago. I used to be afraid of yeast and the finicky nature of dough, but I’ve learned that I like working with it as much as I like eating the finished product. Sure, there’s all that kneading and rising and punching. But it’s kind of a miracle when you can put some flour, butter and water in the oven and a light, flaky baked good comes out. Keep reading »

Another resolution.

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In August 2010, I launched this blog because I just enjoy putting words on a page and I needed a creative outlet to prevent my brain turning to mush. Plus, I like telling you ridiculous stories, sharing a memory or a recipe or writing to work out how I feel about something.

I promised in the beginning that it wouldn’t be interesting or even thought-provoking, but I hope I haven’t bored you to tears. I mean, my parents don’t even read this blog, and I’m the only kid they’ve got. So I appreciate the three of you who do read it. More than I can say.

On my recent resolutions for 2011 list, I neglected to add “Write more” since I don’t want to put any undue pressure on myself. I write a blog entry when I feel like it or when I have something to say. But I don’t want to have to write something, and I’m sure you don’t want to read that anyway. Keep reading »