Turkey, local bacon, aged NY cheddar, & pesto mayonnaise on toasted pain de champagne.  This, my friends, is what I daydream about while I’m eating my PB&J at work.  High-res

Turkey, local bacon, aged NY cheddar, & pesto mayonnaise on toasted pain de champagne. 

This, my friends, is what I daydream about while I’m eating my PB&J at work. 

Puree of local organic butter zucchini.

Have you ever seen butter zucchini? It’s pretty magnificent when you do.  It has this intense yellow color that can’t be beat.  The beauty of making baby food is found in all of the colors. I picked these up at one of the Farmer’s Markets.  I asked the girl what butter zucchini tasted like, and she replied, “Buttered zucchini.” Brilliant!

I just cut these up and steamed them until just softened.  Then I pureed them (skin on) to a thick velvety texture (she enjoys a thicker puree now that she is getting older and writing her college essays…) I roasted a few extra to top our salad that night, and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t taste like…duhnduhnduhn…buttered zucchini! Who would have guessed?

Baby Rating:
10 out of 10 little piggies. Her new favorite veggie!!  

Wild St. George Mushrooms. I’ve never bought wild mushrooms from the innocent-enough looking mushroom forager under a tent at the local Farmer’s Market.  But we’ve had an itch to try new things, and I don’t know if it was the intense morning sun or my desire to get wild and crazy (pshha!)…but I paid a whopping $12 for a little brown bag of this morsels of goodness! Before I handed over the cash, I needed a plan for these bad boys…and since we don’t have an outside concert and a keg to wash these down with…(I’M KEEEDING!), I perused the market and found some fresh kale and whole spelt ravioli filled with gorgonzola and walnut filling.  Long story short, never google wild mushroom poisoning!  I waited a good day before diving into the bag of shrooms after learning that St. George mushrooms can easily be mistaken for a poisonous variety. I was terrified that we would die an awful death and our baby girl would be left all alone in her highchair. My husband said he would take the first bite because his life insurance policy is worth more. So, like any adoring wife, I let him take the first bite at the table (allowing him that moment of bravery and macho-hood).  But little does he know I took a bite of one while they were cooking on the stove…Is that love or what?  They were so yummy! Packed with earthy flavor with a silky and meaty texture. Well worth the money and moments that were spent thinking about what my obituary would say…”Mother/wife found dead after consuming perfectly seasoned wild mushroom cream sauce….” Not a bad way to go, right? High-res

Wild St. George Mushrooms.

I’ve never bought wild mushrooms from the innocent-enough looking mushroom forager under a tent at the local Farmer’s Market.  But we’ve had an itch to try new things, and I don’t know if it was the intense morning sun or my desire to get wild and crazy (pshha!)…but I paid a whopping $12 for a little brown bag of this morsels of goodness!

Before I handed over the cash, I needed a plan for these bad boys…and since we don’t have an outside concert and a keg to wash these down with…(I’M KEEEDING!), I perused the market and found some fresh kale and whole spelt ravioli filled with gorgonzola and walnut filling. 

Long story short, never google wild mushroom poisoning!  I waited a good day before diving into the bag of shrooms after learning that St. George mushrooms can easily be mistaken for a poisonous variety. I was terrified that we would die an awful death and our baby girl would be left all alone in her highchair. My husband said he would take the first bite because his life insurance policy is worth more. So, like any adoring wife, I let him take the first bite at the table (allowing him that moment of bravery and macho-hood).  But little does he know I took a bite of one while they were cooking on the stove…Is that love or what? 

They were so yummy! Packed with earthy flavor with a silky and meaty texture. Well worth the money and moments that were spent thinking about what my obituary would say…”Mother/wife found dead after consuming perfectly seasoned wild mushroom cream sauce….” Not a bad way to go, right?

We took a mid-week break to visit one of my best friends and her son in Charlottesville, VA on Wednesday night.  We spent our time picking perfectly ripe strawberries and chasing after our kiddos while realizing how life certainly has changed since that summer in Maine 10 years ago. For dinner, she made us a pot of cheese fondue with local bread and apples for dipping. You know what’s great about fondue?  The wine.  Lots and lots of wine can be consumed while dipping bread and fruit in melty cheese.  And then when you think you can’t down another glass or dip another morsel, your host will say…”Ok!  Time to melt the chocolate!” That, my friends, is why I’m friends with her. She knows me. She gets me. You would like her. She sent me home with a jar of homemade strawberry preserves.  They were perfectly sweet spread on toasty pain de champagne served with a side of yogurt topped with over-ripened strawberries. Only about 1 more week of strawberry season around here….womp womp… Happy Weekending! High-res

We took a mid-week break to visit one of my best friends and her son in Charlottesville, VA on Wednesday night.  We spent our time picking perfectly ripe strawberries and chasing after our kiddos while realizing how life certainly has changed since that summer in Maine 10 years ago.

For dinner, she made us a pot of cheese fondue with local bread and apples for dipping. You know what’s great about fondue?  The wine.  Lots and lots of wine can be consumed while dipping bread and fruit in melty cheese.  And then when you think you can’t down another glass or dip another morsel, your host will say…”Ok!  Time to melt the chocolate!” That, my friends, is why I’m friends with her. She knows me. She gets me. You would like her.

She sent me home with a jar of homemade strawberry preserves.  They were perfectly sweet spread on toasty pain de champagne served with a side of yogurt topped with over-ripened strawberries. Only about 1 more week of strawberry season around here….womp womp…

Happy Weekending!

Beet and Butter Lettuce Salad. Local organic butter lettuce, roasted local beets and asparagus, shaved carrots, soy beans, toasted walnuts, and local goat cheese. Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm!  High-res

Beet and Butter Lettuce Salad.

Local organic butter lettuce, roasted local beets and asparagus, shaved carrots, soy beans, toasted walnuts, and local goat cheese. Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm! 

This weekend we headed to the local farmer’s market where we bought strawberries (so ripe they dripped down my arm), fresh whole spelt and oat linguini, a whole wheat chicken pot pie, a head of living butter lettuce, beets, butter zucchini, and a bunch of crisp asparagus.  I love summer solely for a booming and colorful open air market. Support your local farmers! High-res

This weekend we headed to the local farmer’s market where we bought strawberries (so ripe they dripped down my arm), fresh whole spelt and oat linguini, a whole wheat chicken pot pie, a head of living butter lettuce, beets, butter zucchini, and a bunch of crisp asparagus.  I love summer solely for a booming and colorful open air market.

Support your local farmers!

This Weekend Was For…

savoring…

Breakfast in bed…with Old World bread covered in butter and preserves…2 cups of coffee…before a drive to the country…a hunt for the sweetest strawberries…and the fresh stench of Dairy-Air (spoken with French accent)…a missed self-pic that shows pure happiness…red barns…smokey BBQ from an unassuming gas station…a night of documentaries…a new 2am wake-up call from a certain baby…a beautiful card…a walk to brunch…Chicken and Waffles…and Nutella glazed doughnuts…3 cups of coffee…an afternoon of couch surfing…flipping through a new book…a few too-few foot rubs…heavy eyes and a nap…

...every second.

Back to work.

My eyes shot open with panic and a healthy portion of dread at 5:32am. In 3 minutes the alarm clock would go “eeeh eeeh eeeh eeeh eeeh,” and my left arm would reach blindly to find my old friend…the snooze button.  I haven’t had an artificial sound wake me in 7 months, and it was as bad as I remembered (in case you were wondering). I turned belly down and buried my face in the flattened too-warm pillow and breathed in with a feeling of slight suffocation while thinking, Dooms Day. My eyes burned, and the tears that built up behind them had no where else to go but out and down…taking the curve of my cheek and pooling on the corners of my mouth.  The salty tears paired horribly with morning breath while I reached to turn the alarm off before the snooze ended and my mind exploded from that horrid sound.

We decided the night before that I wouldn’t wake her.  It would be too early. She might get confused, and her entire schedule would be shaken. So I artificially pumped my breast milk like a pasture cow and fixed her morning bottle. As one of my tears dripped from my chin and landed in her milk, I wondered if she would taste it. 

I quietly crept down the hall on my tiptoes while minding the creaky center floorboard.  My hand gently brushed up against her door as I imagined her asleep in her crib, trying to hear her patterned breath through the door. I couldn’t bear the actual sight of her sleeping.  God, I wish she would just wake up so I could hold her, I thought.

The makeup took longer than expected as I tried lining puffy eyes.  The mascara marked my cheeks as I sneezed and then marked my upper lid as I tried to wipe it up.  I was looking at a hot mess in the mirror.  Where’s that Clear Eyes shit, I thought while rummaging through the medicine cabinet.  As my blush brush took up residence in the toilet, I said ‘fuck it’ and decided after a generous helping of deodorant and a couple of Aleve, that it was time to pour my coffee and get this day started so that it would end. I blew him a kiss as his head lifted from the pillow and my feet touched the stairs. I whispered through her door to have a good day. I took a deep breath and sucked it all up. 

I went back to work with a painted-on smile while putting people to sleep and waking them up. I never want to do that again, I said aloud as I swallowed a breath of stale hospital air. I got back in my car and cried tears of regret into the dashboard. I arrived home to find her asleep in my mother’s arms. I went into the kitchen and cried tears of relief while feeling an honest twinge of jealousy. 

I cried during her dinner and filled her bath with tears. And when I couldn’t hold it together while rocking her to sleep as my heart filled with the dread of tomorrow, she watched me cry in the dark with her wide eyes. She reached up and grabbed my wet cheeks, pinching them with her sharp nails. I would have filed those today if I had been home, I thought while kissing her on her lips while finishing her favorite song “…you’ll never know dear how much I love you…please don’t take my sunshine away.” 

Well Shit.

Tomorrow I start back at work.  I’ll be putting people to sleep before my girl even opens her eyes and begins to sing for her milk. I have so many feeeeeelings.  Deep…ridiculous…irrational…overwhelming…gut busting…eye burning…kind of feelings.