Uncle Perry

Last week, our family lost a very dear person--my uncle Perry.  Being so far away, it is hard to believe that he can be gone.  With his death being so close to Thanksgiving, it made me think about how thankful I was to have him in my life.

This is Uncle Perry at my wedding.  He and my Aunt Pat have been at every major event of my life to support me, and most of the not so important piano recitals and and choir concerts, too.  I remember a time when the three of us were driving from Twin Falls to Boise and I mentioned how they must be so happy for their grandchildren because they had to wait awhile before they got these great kids:

He told me that he had always thought of me as one of his grandchildren.  I have thought about that many times because it meant so much to me.  It is hard to put into words what someone can mean to you.  Uncle Perry wasn't the kind of person who had to be in the limelight, but it was his presence--calm, kind, always ready to laugh that made you feel like there was something safe and right with the world.  It is a tremendous thing that I can say that in a lifetime of knowing him I never heard him say one bad thing about another person.

It's really hard to say how many times I barged into Pat and Perry's house without knocking because I was excited about something, or had a bad day at school, or was just bored.  I am so thankful that I had someone who didn't mind me barging in and would always be there in his faithful chair to listen and laugh with me.  I'm really grateful for our camping trips and the time we spent sitting around the fire.  I learned so much from my uncle's kindness.  I loved him a lot.

Sometimes words just fail a person.  I really wanted to let Aunt Pat, and Mike, Theresa, Jim, Susan and Paul know how my heart is with them, and how very much I love them.  I was so honored and blessed to have Uncle Perry in my life, and I will dearly miss him.

The Frida Flop

Let us go back in time.  Back far into the recesses of our memories to that long ago holiday--Halloween of this year.  Back then I had a grandiose sense of my own abilities.  Sam and I had been camping in the wilderness like we do, checking out the fall colors.

Here we are at the beginning of the trail like two gazelles ready to bound through the forest.

We said to ourselves, we can do eight miles up and down a couple of mountains in our sleep!  Who needs lunch when we are so cute with our wedding ring pictures and our love?

We needed lunch, as it happens.  We also needed sleep.  I think the whole thing would have ended differently had we not been trying to roll ourselves sideways up a hill all of the previous night due to an unfortunate (and unavoidable!) tent placement on the side of a mountain.  One of us actually ended up crying when faced with an unexpected extra hill to climb near the end of our hike, but I won't name names.

Suffice it to say, with all this going on, Halloween kind of snuck up on us.  As we were driving home from the camping trip, I suddenly realized that it was Halloween day, I had to work, and rumor had it that my boss always dressed up.  I racked my brain for a costume idea that could be accomplished in twenty minutes using stuff I already had in the house, and hopefully one that represented another country since I work at Ten Thousand Villages.  I bet you know right where this is going...

Mexican artist Frida Kahlo, of course!  Maybe I'm just unique in this respect, but in my world Frida pops up all the time.  She is on all kinds of pins and cards in hipster coffee shops, and you can't leave your house without tripping over old movie posters from when Salma Hayek played her in the aptly named movie Frida a couple of years ago.  Some people might think that the hiking failure would have made me more cautious about so quickly taking on another big adventure.

But no, when I saw Frida staring back at me in the mirror I was so pleased with the floral arrangement on top my head I didn't even consider that my foray into the Mexican art world might be a bad idea.  We didn't have enough time to research what her husband looked like, so Sam contented himself with being an everyday Bandito.

Please note, Mom and Dad, that is not a real gun.

Honestly, I was pretty proud of our efforts.  I thought it a great sign that the Starbucks Barista knew right away who I was.  However, things took a bad turn at work.  My boss slept in and hadn't dressed up after all, so I was the only Mexican painter there.  And it turns out that not as many people as you would think had heard of Frida, despite all of Salma Hayek's efforts to raise awareness.  What people did seem to think, from the stilted conversations I had with them in the store, was that unibrows are very, very scary. In fact, it is my belief that Frida was far more terrifying to people than if I had shown up with elaborate zombie makeup and blood dripping down my face.  No one would make eye contact with me, mothers hid their children behind their legs so they wouldn't have to see it me, and old ladies gave me frightened glances out of the corners of their eyes when they thought I wasn't looking.

I'm not proud, but I couldn't handle the terrible reception my costume received.  I had to abandon the Frida ship fairly quickly for a more traditional look.  It hurt my soul to wash off my unibrow, because who can say who might have a similar abundance of brows her own self if nature wasn't constantly being battled against?  It seems to me that this was a great blow for all who choose less conventional facial hair situations.  It was a hard lesson that I learned that day.  We have a long way to go, people.

I'm glad that no matter what style of eyebrows I sport, I've always got this Bandito by my side.  

La Famiglia

For those who only know me virtually, a little background.  I am the oldest of three.  I have a sister who is two years younger and a brother who is 12 years younger (side note, he looks WAY older than he is).  Being the oldest, I have often felt it was my duty to hold the family together and set a good example for the children. Four months ago, as we all know, I was whisked away to the charming south as a newly married bride, where frankly it is harder to keep an eye on them.

At first, I wasn't that concerned.  I said to myself, they are all adults, they can take care of themselves.  But secretly, I worried.  My dad started looking into getting an old car and talking lovingly about a 1940 Packard. You know how sometimes your gut just tells you something is wrong?  I thought to myself, this car is a bad seed. I hoped the deal would fall through, but no luck.

Oh Friends!  The calls started getting fewer and farther between, and when I did hear from them it was collect calls from pay phones with hacking coughs and sirens blasting through the bad connection.  Dad said that what sounded like gun fire was just the Packard backfiring.  Little did I know how bad it had gotten.  I got an email with these pictures from Danny the other day and I was shocked at what I saw.

When I left my dad was an upstanding man who I had NEVER seen with a cigarette.  I'm sorry to tell you this cigarette isn't even filtered!  Even worse, (I can hardly say it!) my little bearded baby has been corrupted.

And excuse me, am I imagining things, or is he actually packing HEAT!?!

I see that my mom has avoided the smoking, but I can hardly say that I'm comforted.

I'm just so saddened by this picnic.  

These are direct quotes from my dad:

"Tell Sarah we've been on an extended road trip and business has been very good.  Since I'm getting older now, Danny went along to assist with the driving.  I bought the Packard after all because it has a bigger engine and more room and this has been a big help in the business.  Things have been a little stressful on the road so I started smoking again.  Your mother is happy now that the money is flowing in again like water."

When I knew him, my dad just collected some coins here and there.  What in the world have they been doing to have a bag full of Benjamins and need guns, for heaven's sake?  

Needless to say, I'm worried sick about this state of affairs.  I'm hoping this blog will be a wake up call for them.  Family members who live nearby, please see if you can talk to them, for the child's sake.

Triple Threat: A Birthday Burrito Blog for Becca

This is my gorgeous friend Becca.  And that is the back of my wedding day head.  Today is her birthday, and being a fan of alliteration, I couldn't help but think that an appropriate salute would be to share with everyone a recipe for burritos that immediately made me thing of her.  

Why, you might ask, do burritos make me think of Becca, and is that actually a compliment? Well, being my BFF for nineteen years now, I can pretty much think of a way to associate any good thing with memories of Becca.  For example, burritos--meeting for lunch dates at Taco Time, going to Cafe Ole on New Years and Birthdays, and these particular burritos are healthy and in season, which I think Becca would like.  

Plus, they are just really, really good.  I found them on All Recipes and I think whoever made them up is just a genius.  I'm thinking of adding a sauce to them, but for now you won't go wrong with a little green salsa (Sam says he likes red better).

• Sweet Potato Black Bean Burritos

(I halved this recipe which worked well for us)

• 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
• 1 onion, chopped
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 6 cups canned kidney beans, drained
• 2 cups water
• 3 tablespoons chili powder
• 2 teaspoons ground cumin
• 4 teaspoons prepared mustard
• 1 pinch cayenne pepper, or to taste
• 3 tablespoons soy sauce
• 4 cups cooked and mashed sweet potatoes
• 12 (10 inch) flour tortillas, warmed
• 8 ounces shredded Cheddar cheese
• 
  
• Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees Heat oil in a medium skillet, and saute onion and garlic until soft. Stir in beans, and mash. Gradually stir in water, and heat until warm. Remove from heat, and stir in the chili powder, cumin, mustard, cayenne pepper and soy sauce.
• 
  
• Divide bean mixture and mashed sweet potatoes evenly between the warm flour tortillas. Top with cheese. Fold up tortillas burrito style, and place on a baking sheet.
• 
  
• Bake for 12 minutes in the preheated oven, and serve.

For Becca's Birthday, Sam and I decided to go out and celebrate by driving to Stone Mountain (just a half hour jaunt down the freeway) and arriving 15 minutes to closing time.  We meant to do that!  Anyway, we hung out for a while, posing and doing autographs for some locals who had apparently heard we were a big deal in the blogging world.

I took a gangsta picture of myself while walking (everybody does this, don't lie).

 As Becca can tell you from our burrito eating days in Psych 101, the James-Lange theory suggests that when you act like a gangsta, you suddenly feel like one.  Which is why Sam had to talk me down from stealing this Cinderella pumpkin from a display.

Take only pictures, leave only footprints

Sam said he could eat a horse he was so hungry.  I said that was ridiculous, so he settled for what he could get in the snack department before we headed back home.  Turns out everything was closed and he was forced to make some dangerous choices of his own.

We love you Becca!  And don't forget folks, the virtual world is about to be turned on it's head for my upcoming collaboration with my Dad.  Stay tuned!

Review

What have I been doing with myself, for heaven's sake?  Here I've been out of touch (again!) and apparently even beyond the range of regular email and Facebook interactions.  Basically, I've been working my crazy part time hours and camping and running around with my Sam.  Today we will do a speedy review of the past week and half and then in the next couple of days get on to some topics that I'm really excited to blog about.

So, first and most importantly, a week and half ago Sam stomped his foot down and declared himself in charge of cooking or acquiring (an important proviso from my attorney) all our food for the week.  He did a great job.  Here are a couple of highlights of the new master chef in our house:

Sam's Morrocan Seafood with couscous (this is seriously the first thing he tried, I'm so proud).  And these are his Pecan Sandies:

Sam mades these when I was having a grumpy day.  We ate these and watched Alfred Hitchcock together (Dial M for Murder, please see this if you haven't already--I just love Grace Kelly in it).  I have decided that it is almost impossible to stay grumpy when someone makes you cookies from scratch.  If only we could harness this power to do good on a global scale.

Along with cooking up a storm, we had another stay-cation weekend where we visited Atlanta's Hindu temple--it was beautiful:

This is my leaning-tower-of-Pisa take on it

We checked out the Dali exhibit at the High Museum and found it a lot more cool than we anticipated, which goes to show you once again the glory of low expectations, no offense to the High or Dali intended, I just wasn't sure I cared for surrealism.  For those of my 2 3/4 readers in Atlanta, get the audio tour, it is great!

After that we worked, so blah, blah, blah we skip ahead to camping.  Sam and I made another quick trip to Unicoi State Park (right next to the Bavarian village).  

This is when we first got up.  It was our first two night camping trip!  I got a little cold and kept Sam awake with my whining on night one, but night two I wore every piece of clothing I brought and did just fine.

We are so excited to have a new camp stove!  As you can see, we made a feast of carbs and protein to test it out.  Do you notice me trying to be balanced with that sad little bag of carrots over there?

Perhaps the best thing to happen to us in this glorious week was that we were able (at last!) to begin our ironic coaster collection.  We had been wanting to do this since our honeymoon, but quirky coasters are harder to find than you think.  I give you the beginning of what will someday be an incredible assemblage...

Try not to be jealous.  

My dad has been helping me to prepare an upcoming blog that I'm really looking forward to, so stay tuned for that.  And also, Sam's inner Bostonian is calling out for some chowda.  Anyone have a good recipe?

The Wild, Wild West

Sam and I, ever slaves to your needs for new scenery and entertainment, went on location to my home state of Idaho recently.  Okay, so I realize that at least half of my readers might not find this location a novelty because they live there already and may even be in these pictures, but work with me here.  See it anew.

It is always good to be in Boise.  Sam stayed in Georgia for a few days doing top secret paperwork for his job before catching up with me in B-town, and I got to spend time with my family and these gorgeous girls:

Here we are at the Idaho Shakespeare Festival, one of my favorite places in the world to be.  We went to a play that was the absolute perfect level of scariness--The Woman in Black.  I love that level of fear, when things are just deliciously scary.  You remember that feeling when you were a little kid and adults would fake chase you around?  You knew they were coming to get you and it was so exhilarating and fun.  That's how this play felt. 

As we have established, I'm a woman who loves her coffee, so we also had to have a girls morning at Big City Coffee, a Boise tradition.  While Atlanta has ridiculously cool stuff to do, I have not yet found the place that serves scones and muffins the size of your head.  Maybe I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands and introduce Atlanta to the giangantic, home made muffin, farm store theme scene.

Seriously, how cool is this?  If they made up a bed for me I could live there quite happily.

Once my Sam rolled into town there was only one place he wanted to be:

Goldy's has a special spot in both our hearts because it is one of the first places we went after we met.  On that fateful morning a couple got engaged while we were halfway through our marmalade french toast (which I retroactively took as a sign of good things to come).  That, and it has amazing food.  It also has an amazingly long line on Saturday mornings.  It takes so long to get in that they take your cell number and let you roam around the farmers market, which we did.  

We wandered around for about an hour, listening to street musicians, sampling blue cheese dressing and strawberries and dutch cookies.   I started to think to myself that, all sampling aside,  I really was getting hungry and maybe something had gone wrong with our reservation.  I asked Sam whose number he gave.  And he said mine.  And I said, (why did I say this?) are you sure you told them the right number?  So I called them.  And then I gave them my number again.  But wait!  After I hung up the phone I had the sneaking suspicion--no I KNEW-- I had just given them my number wrong.  Have you ever had a neurotic moment of self doubt like this?  When you suddenly forget your own phone number because you are so excited about a chorizo breakfast burrito?  

This is my lovely mom, who is new to the mother in law business, but who wants it to be known that while she can keep her opinions (like what has happened to you that you can't remember your phone number?) to herself, she won't be wearing beige anytime soon.  And there is my sweet Sam.  Calling Goldy's again to clarify that we were the perfectly sane people who really wanted to eat there and who really, really wanted to be contacted.  It was touch and go, but I am happy to say that I didn't let a little thing like my pride get between me and that breakfast burrito.  I know that as I took you on this emotional roller coaster of a story you are probably asking yourself, was all that pain and drama worth it in the end?   Mmmmm hmmmm.

Oktober-Feast

Okay, yes, I am aware that is an incredibly cheesy title.  But I chose it on purpose!  Because this will be by far the post with the most cheese I could possibly munster (seriously, somebody stop me, I know that is a terrible joke and I can't stop myself--turn your heads).   And speaking of embarrassing--side note--yesterday I was looking for sweet potatoes at the grocery store.  I found yams, which I will admit did look a lot like sweet potatoes.  But I couldn't find sweet potatoes.  So there I am, standing in front of the yams and I ask the produce man where I could find sweet potatoes.  He just looks at me with that look that says, please, please lady, don't make me point out your foolishness to your face.  So yeah, for that one other person out there who doesn't know, yams and sweet potatoes are the same thing.

Anyway, last night in Atlanta Sam and I had friends coming over and it felt like fall.  For Sam, this is a tragedy because he is very much a warm weather person, but for this Idaho girl it feels like heaven.  It was time for pumpkins and candles and apple cider and every fall thing.

While Sam planned a trip to Aruba online, 

I lit candles and waved my cinnamon broom in the air and generally cooked myself into a frenzy.

Which brings me to cheese.  Years ago my dad (here pictured at a haunted hotel in Silver City--spoiler alert, future blog on the way!)

went to the library, flipped through a cookbook and copied out a French recipe for cheese bread.  Now, my dad is not usually one to copy recipes, but he has very good instincts about food and must have known he was holding a classic.  Years later it is still a family favorite.  Some people think that Southerners like Paula Dean have taken the prize for putting the most fattening foods together.  I tend to think that the French had cornered the market on fat centuries ago.  Whoever the winner is, no one can dispute that this is a ridiculously fattening recipe.  Seriously, I have no defense for this amount of cheese.   If you like cheese, you will love this and that's all that needs to be said.  There is just enough butter and eggs in here to hold the cheese together.  

Cheese Bread 

1 stick of butter

1 1/4 c. flour

4 eggs

3 cups shredded cheddar cheese

1 cup shredded swiss cheese (the kinds of cheese don't necessarily make or break it, just the amount)

1/2 tsp. salt

1/4 tsp. ground black pepper

1 garlic clove, minced

2 jalapenos, finely chopped (I never put these in, but you can if you want to)

1/4 cup yellow onion, finely chopped

1/8 tsp. cayenne (I put in red pepper flakes when I don't have cayenne)

Preheat your oven to 375 degrees.  In a medium sized sauce pan, melt the butter over a medium heat.  Add all the flour at once, stirring over the heat until it incorporates into the butter to become one big ball. Take the pan off the heat.  Add the eggs, one at a time, fully stirring in one before adding the next. Add the cheese.  (The mixture will be hard to stir so I hope you've been working out. And if you have, all your good work is about to be undone, so sorry about that.) Stir in the spices, garlic and onion. Bake in a greased cast iron skillet or 9 x 9 pan for 40-45 minutes. I would make the slices on the smaller side since there is enough cheese in there for your daily allotment of calories.

This is my cheese bread just ready to come out of the oven:

Now, much as we all love cheese, it wouldn't look good to serve it by itself.  So we needed some soup. This recipe for turkey chili is really easy and I love the flavor.  Hopefully you will, too.  You can mess with this recipe and it will turn out fine.  I sometimes add some kidney beans when I'm moody and rebellious.

Indian Summer Turkey Chili

(page 31 for those of you who have my cookbook)

2 TBSP extra virgin olive oil

1 1/4 lbs ground turkey

1 TBSP grill seasoning

1 TBSP ground cumin

2 TBSP Worcestershire sauce

2 TBSP hot sauce (I can only do 1/2 TBSP, I'm a wimp)

1 large yellow onion, chopped (reserve 1/4 of the onion for topping the chili)

2 bell peppers, any color, cored seeded, and chopped

3/4 cup (1/2 bottle) beer

28 oz. can tomato sauce

1/2 cup smokey barbecue sauce

1 cup frozen corn 

Heat a pot over medium to high heat.  Add the olive oil and ground turkey.  Season the meat with the chili powder, grill seasoning, cumin, Worcestershire, and hot sauce.  Break up the meat with the back of a wooden spoon into small crumbles.  

Brown the meat for 5 minutes, then add the onion and bell peppers and cook for 10 minutes more.  Add the beer and deglaze the pan, scraping up the drippings and cooking off the alcohol.  Add the tomato sauce, barbecue sauce, and corn and bring the chili to a bubble.  Let the chili simmer for 10 minutes.  Adjust the seasonings and heat level to your taste.  Remove from the heat and serve.

Chili is such a temperamental model at night...

Of course, what would our party be without apple cider?  It is so easy to make, and it makes the house smell so good.  Just get a gallon of apple juice, throw in a couple of cinnamon sticks and some whole cloves, and heat on the stove.  Yum.

And finally, what would fall be without a cookie?  Since we already had molasses cookies and Sam and I still have some of those in the freezer, I thought blondies were in order.  

Blondies

• 2 cups sifted all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/4 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2/3 cup butter
• 2 cups packed brown sugar
• 2 egg
• 2 tablespoons vanilla extract
• 1/2 to 1 cup of chopped pecans (or any other nut you've got lying around).
• 
  
• Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Mix the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt together in a bowl and set aside.

In a mixing bowl, combine butter and brown sugar.  Add the eggs and vanilla and mix in thoroughly.  Then through in the flour mixture and finally add the chopped nuts.  Bake for 20-25 minutes in a greased 9 x 13 pan.

So cute in their Polish pottery!

Here they are by candlelight

Happy October everyone!  From us, the hard living, cranky people in bad lighting...

This photo was taken pre-cheese bread