 I don’t usually read labels on food and when I do, words I can’t pronounce don’t scare me. I do not require things to be organic, free-range, local or hormone-free (I like being tall). I don’t really care (I probably should, but I just don’t) whether the chicken I’m eating was happy before it became part of my meal. This being said, there is one food which I am very picky about. I care deeply about it’s origins, ingredients, taste, consistency and appearance.
I am obsessed with yogurt. I am in fact a yogurt snob.
I have had love affairs with many different varieties– Greek yogurt I discovered when I lived in Spain, a tart variety called Nancy\’s Yogurt I got when I lived in Moscow and ate by the gallon, and most lately, Seven Stars Farm yogurt. The last time I was in Pennsylvania I bought a case of it. This may be the affair to end all yogurt love affairs. It is AMAZING stuff. When you open the container there is a layer of cream sitting on the top and down to the last sloopy little bit, it’s wonderful!
I always go full-fat, plain.
If I want more flavor I add my own. My flavor-of-the-week is frozen blueberries, craisins and a sticks-and-twigs type of cereal I got at costco.
If you click the link to Seven Stars Farm yogurt you can find out where to buy it. My one disappointment is that wherever they sell it in the DC area they want an arm and a leg for it. The cheapest I have found it is in Bird in Hand, PA where I buy it from an Amish store (for real– they have gas lights and buggies) for less than $3 a tub. And I eat a case in about a week. Sigh…
One of the ways Valiant and I have been trying to beat the heat here in DC is by doing stuff indoors. It’s too hot for man or beast (although apparently not tourists…) out there! When the heat index is over 100 and it’s humid enough to swim down the sidewalk, we have taken to the museums as a way to get out of the house and still stay cool without living at the pool. One of my favorites is the National Gallery. We stopped to admire the Alexander Calder mobiles in the East Building which Valiant told me reminded him of his mobile above his crib. Then we made our way through the psychedelic tunnel to the West Building where we took in some of the less modern stuff.
The mobile in Valiant’s room
I think he appreciated the depictions of boyhood by Homer.
We stopped to give V his lunch in the atrium.
I love Sargent! V preferred his stroller straps to the art.
I took these shots a long time ago with my film SLR but only recently got them developed. I was curious to see how they turned out because I think the film I used was about as old as I am. Despite the discolorations, there really is something about film that I love.
We have this wonderful, generous neighbor who has blessed us with as many figs from his garden as we can eat. He brought them over one day in a tin and whenever we finish them off, we bring the tin back and he returns it full.
He’s from Norway and keeps an amazing yard, especially for this part of the city– it reminds me of the Secret Garden. He had us over for a late evening meal in his garden the other night with all kinds of food arranged on little plates, boards and bowls and several beers chilling in an ice bucket off to the side. Inside his house is somewhat dark, the walls covered in oil paintings and portraits of late relatives. There are rugs strewn on the wood floors and furniture and trinkets from all over the world. We had a lovely relaxing evening chatting about life and his past (his parents were holocaust survivors but died in a private plane crash along with several of his siblings, and he was raised in East Asia, India and various other countries by his Aunt). I kept trying to think of who he reminded me of and then one day it struck me. With his hospitality, his kindness, his foriegn-ness, his cozy little house– he reminded me of Tumnus the Faun.
Some day, if I can ever keep from eating all the figs right out of the tin, I hope to make fig bars. If anyone has a tried and true recipe, please pass it on!
I think it was Meghan I was talking to the other day and she said that she wanted to see more pictures of Valiant. We actually had a little photo session the other day because I wanted to get some passport photos of him (there’s always a hope and a dream of travel for me.) Taking passport photos with a 4 month old is a little challenging….
…but with the proper cropping I think we finally came up with something that worked
And here are some random Valiant photos just so you remember what your little grandson/nephew/cousin across the country looks like.
I saw this car at an autobody shop on the Hill. I’ve always dreamed of owning a British racing green convertible MG.
One day a chair suspended high in the air on a pole appeared in a vacant lot near where I live. There was chatter on some of the blogs and everyone was asking where this mysterious chair had come from. Lately the chair has become part of an entire “exhibit” located in that vacant lot.
Apparently there are plans to throw up an enormous high-rise apartment building with a grocery store below on the lot but until work starts on it, the artist has been given the OK to continue his work there (according to some neighbors of the lot that I talked to). The other day I happened to see the artist at work and snapped a picture of him as we drove by.
His name is B K Adams and the H Street Love Peace and Harmony Sculpture Garden is apparently just one of his many installations. He has also started a viral marketing campaign putting his “I AM ART” stickers up all over the city, with different groups following him on-line and posting pictures of all the places his stickers show up.
Valiant and I took a walk down to the lot the other morning before it got too hot and snapped a few pictures.
A big THANK YOU to our guest blogger today and good friend of Erin’s, Alison:
It was a weekend a year in the making. Anyone who has met Tim knows that it doesn’t take long before “The Tomato Festival” comes up. This is usually followed by, “you have to go.” After the 5th or 6th time of mentioning it, and confirmation from Erin that this was a “must-see” event, I marked my calendar (last September) so that I wouldn’t miss out.
Tim’s family lives in Lancaster County which is known for tomatoes (apparently) and Amish people. And, luckily for us, is only a two-hour drive from Washington, DC. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, other than buggies and well-made rocking chairs. First, let me say that the landscape is breathtaking. My mom’s family is from an agricultural community in northern Michigan, so I’m no stranger to a farm, but this was different. Every house is well-maintained. Every barn a lesson in architecture. Each field a verdant green. It is calm, and peaceful. Idyllic.
I have decided that I love going to visit friends’ families. Tim’s family was no exception. Cindy (Tim’s mom) had a fantastic meal waiting for us when we arrived, traffic-weary, to their home. It was my first brush with “ham loaf” and I had never seen so many green beans in one bowl. The potatoes were freshly dug from Fred’s garden. With this feast before me, I nearly missed it: Washington Boro tomatoes, prepared to perfection by Cindy into a tomato caprese salad. Delicious. Decadent. The way God intended tomatoes to taste.
One of my favorite things about meeting new people in new places is that they usually like to show you around. We woke up to a rainy Saturday morning, but luckily Fred (Tim’s father) had a plan: a car tour of Amish country. Our first stop was Market, a fantastic indoor market with beautiful produce, fresh cut sunflowers, sinfully delicious donuts and handmade quilts. Based on the amount of people who knew “us” (I’ve decided I’m now a part of the family), Market must be the place to be and to be seen in Lancaster. Stomachs full of Long Johns, we continued on Fred’s tour which included former presidents’ residences, old Mennonite meeting halls, abandoned mills and an Amish health food store with no electric lights. I loved driving by the Amish buggies, trying to see who was inside. I was impressed with the Amish farms and wondered what it would be like to live without electricity. We went by several Amish one-room schoolhouses, which sadly brought back images to my mind of the tragedy at West Nickel Mines School several years ago.
After a rain hike with Tim, Erin and Valiant up a muddy mountain we got cleaned up and were finally off to the Tomato Festival. The rain stopped by the time we arrived and the residents of Washinton Boro were setting out their lawn chairs and saying hello to their relatives and neighbors. There is a stage set up where a band plays country covers and several Lancaster ladies gave a good show of their line dancing skills. There are games set up around the perimeter of the field, most cost a quarter. One of the most popular was a game where children launched rubber frogs onto lily pads using rubber mallets. Another involved flipping quarters into glasses of various shapes and sizes. I was hoping for a dunk tank, but I was out of luck. Surprisingly, the Tomato Festival has very few tomatoes. But, that doesn’t seem to be the point of this community gathering. I loved being a fly on the wall, observing. Families that have known each other for generations. Friends kicking back over a plate of fries while listening to country music. Children’s excitement at eating funnel cakes and running around with their pals after dark. It was simple, no frills. It was happy.
The weekend was a great time of getting out of the hot and muggy city, of being with good friends and eating amazing food. As we were getting ready to leave on Sunday, Cindy kindly fixed us up one more caprese salad. It is a taste that will linger in my mind until next summer. When I can go to the Tomato Festival again. In the meantime, I’m going to talk it up to anyone who will listen.
For my birthday, Tim took me to one of our favorite breakfast/brunch places in DC. We ate outside in their walled-in patio with a parachute for a ceiling, and I ordered poached eggs on grits with bacon while Tim had the huevos rancheros. I fully intended to have their wonderful home-made yogurt and granola as a dessert but was too full in the end. Afterward we walked around the neighborhood and ducked into St Matthews. I was amazed that this place had been right under my nose and I’d never been inside before. Later that day he took me to the French Embassy for their Fête de la Musique where, among other things, we got to watch the Bataladrum band– a strange and wonderful thing I had seen on H Street just a couple days before. Strange because it’s composed of all women (almost entirely young and attractive girls) toting enormous drums and playing in a way that makes you want to jump up and down and shout! I wish I had a video for you but the ones on their site don’t do them justice anyway. We ended the day by going to get ice cream, stopping to watch a movie in the park projected on a large screen, and dropping by some friend’s house.
The Tabord Inn from their website
A friend and I were sitting on our front step having a glass of sangria the other evening when a few runners started to pass by the house. Soon the trickle turned to flood but they weren’t the typical stream-line, spandex-clad crowd. Some had dread locks and beards or were running in cargo pants, and a number of them looked very out of shape. So we finally started asking them what the occasion was. Was there a race or something?
“We’re running for Jesus!” one guy yelled over his shoulder. “Because it’s a good night to run!” someone else said. Eventually a jogger stopped and told us there were about 200 people gathered behind our house drinking beer in the alley and we left our stoop to investigate.
We walked out our back door and sure enough, a van had pulled up behind our place, a couple folding tables had been set up and about 200 people were drinking Yuengling out of plastic cups, eating oreos and doritos, milling about, talking and carrying on. So we joined the party and discovered that they were a random group of people called “hashers” who basically run and drink beer every Thursday. They have a website and each week someone scouts out a route, starting at a metro stop somewhere in the city and ending (hopefully) in an obscure alley where no one will notice or call the police. And honestly, if no one had told us, we never would have known they were out our back door. We hung out, drank beer and chatted with folks for thirty minutes or so until we heard a siren and someone alerted the hashers that the police had arrived. Immediately the tables were broken down, the van was packed up and the crowd disappeared. The alley was completely empty in a matter of seconds– no trash, no plastic cups, nothing.
 
 
I’m a little behind the curve with this menu but I wasn’t going to get the prize anyway, so here it is: my super-easy, fast, doesn’t-heat-up-the-house-too-much-in-summer recipe.
Gourmet Mashed Potatoes
6 potatoes
1 large sweet onion
1 stick butter
1 cup milk
1/2 package cream cheese
salt to taste
Get a large pot of water boiling. I leave the skins on my potatoes and just wash them off well– more nutritious and saves time and mess for me. If I’m in a big hurry, I will often throw the potatoes in the microwave for a few minutes to get them started while I wait for the water to boil, but either way, I finish by cutting them up and putting them in the pot. I also cut up the onion in large pieces and throw it in the pot to boil with the potatoes– it adds a sweetness to the final product you don’t get by using potatoes alone. When all are soft but not falling apart, drain them and put the pot on a hot pad on the counter. Toss in the milk (heated if you want everything to stay piping hot) and start whipping them with a hand mixer. Gradually add remaining ingredients, taste frequently, serve!
Citrus Carrots
10 Carrots
2-3 Tbls Butter
Zest 1 Lemon (optional)
1/4 Cup Brown Sugar
1/2 Cup Grated Parmesan Cheese (the real stuff)
Carrots are my go-to vegetable because they stay good in the fridge for such a long time. At the same time as I’m getting water going for the potatoes, I put on a smaller pot for the carrots and put the peeled carrots in the boiling water, cut into bite sized pieces. Drain the water when tender, add enough butter to saute them with the zest of one lemon. Then add the brown sugar and parmesan cheese once the liquid that comes from the sauteing carrots has cooked away sufficiently, and saute until the cheese begins to brown and stick to the carrots. Serve!
Grilled Sausages
You can, of course, use any grilled meat. I like sausages because they are quick and don’t require special seasoning. I usually keep a couple packages in the freezer.
The other night we left Valiant with a good friend for the evening and I promised him a field trip for the next day as a special treat. So yesterday we started the day with a bath and then I packed him up and went with a girlfriend and her daughter to visit a local bakery. Another of my friends, Emily, works for the company and was kind enough to give us a tour and as much bread as our arms could carry!
The bakery does a brisk business that is solely wholesale, supplying many of our favorite restaurants on H Street, and prides itself on it’s preservative-free creations made fresh and delivered every single day (except Christmas). We saw the process of bread making from start to finish. The orders come in each day and if they are placed by around 3pm, the customer can expect fresh bread by three or four the next morning. The process begins with flour, of course, which is delivered by the truckload and stored briefly in vast canvas containers (we’re standing next to them in one of the photos). In a machine that looks something like a mamoth version of my Kitchen Aid, the dough is mixed, then weighed and cut into large mounds, put on sheets and allowed to “rest” in plastic bins. Emily is standing beside the long table where the dough is shaped into loaves. A bun-and-roll-maker is one of the few machines used at the bakery since their sizes and shapes need to remain very standard. The rest of the bread is formed almost exclusively by hand. From there it goes to the proofing room– a steamy place that looks from the outside like a walk-in freezer– where it rises and prepares for baking. All of the pans and bins used in the process must be washed every day, and that was the next station we came to. The oven room is a separate area, and on a hot day like yesterday I pity the person who ends up working there. There are a couple different kinds of ovens depending on the sort of bread being made– steam-injected or hot-stone. And voilá! Big beautiful loaves of bread! In an enormous room full of shelves, the bread awaits hand-selection and packaging before being shipped out. Since orders leave the warehouse at three in the morning, the shelves were fairly empty at the time of our tour, but there was still enough for a small army and we left with a full bag each.
My tiny Edward Scissor Hands
My 3 am alarm
My constant entertainment
The monkey on my arm
He speaks a foreign tongue
Though native to my home
Becomes extremely eloquent
If he is left alone
Careless of another’s needs
The best manipulator
He can spin the act of taking a shower
Into the deeds of a traitor
I thought that I’d be smarter
But I believe the show
Starvation is around the corner
For someone who ate an hour ago
Made from the stuff of day-dreams
He’s turned me into a sleep-walker
I have one last hold-out
I won’t become a baby-talker
But when I start to use those words
You’ll know I’ve really caved
Don’t give up hope, in 18 years
Maybe I’ll be saved
Nine months in anticipation
Half of my collaboration
Pain and joy in exaggeration
Now my full-time occupation
A tiny tyrant in a sleeper
The sweetest despot you’ll ever meet
If he ruled another country
I would move there in a heartbeat
I knew that I was done-for
From the time I held that hand
I’m despearately in love
His name is Valiant Rand
How many times have you gone to pick out a movie and wandered (or clicked) around aimlessly looking for something appealing, wishing you’d written down that suggestion you’d heard the other day. I finally started making myself a list so that when I got that twice a month urge to veg in front of the computer, I wouldn’t end up spending another evening with The Devil Wears Prada.
Here are few of mine:
If you are interested in a documentary, Man on Wire was pretty compelling. I knew the premise of the movie before I saw it but I underestimated the challenge the Frenchmen in the film would have in pulling off the stunt they did.
In the French vein… it’s been out a long time but I just saw Amelie and loved it! It was very cleverly thought out and I think I just enjoyed seeing Paris from a Parisian’s perspective. It’s a great movie for light-hearted entertainment without being vapid fluff.
If your life is just too darn happy and you want something a little depressing, I loved The Painted Veil. It is a bit of a downer (although it rallies to a sort-of-not-so-bad ending) but it may be one of my all-time favorite movies. The story is so redeeming! and the characters are multi-dimensional, plus, 1920′s China is such an interesting place to me.
Finally, a movie that’s on my list to see is Outsourced. To read the title it doesn’t sound that interesting but for some reason it caught my attention in previews. On the short visit I had to India, I fell in love with the country so maybe that’s part of my reason for wanting to see this film that takes place in Bombay.
One of my girlfriends has been pestering me to take pregnancy photos for a while and we finally got around to doing it–probably none too soon since I’m due to pop any day now. I give her a big hand for being persistent. I’m not an easy subject– I’m awkward in a photo shoot and I was adamant about not doing heart-hands-over-belly shots and made other demands. Despite all that I think she did a fabulous job. Here are some of my favorites. (click on the photo for a full view)
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