Wild horses, sandy tents and campfires.

Yes, you guessed it...camping!  Amalie, Regina, Nate, Schaeffer and I packed up the cars and headed out to Assateague Island, MD for some camping adventures.  It was such a nice break from the cement jungle of Washington, DC.  Prior to the night of crazy wind and lots of rain, the afternoon was spent on the beach and the evening was spent cooking and eating.  The entire day was a page by page read aloud of the scary mystery we were reading by handing the book around the circle of friends and taking turns reading aloud.  It was like a camping trip from being a kid.  That is, if I actually had taken camping trips as a kid.  Which, I should say, I did not.  My family isn't really what you would call the camping type.

Menu:
Grilled chicken with homemade barbecue sauce (#127)
Roasted asparagus spears with garlic (#128)
Baked potatoes

 Do we have everything?

I only had to shoo the wild ponies out of the trunk of Regina's car once.  Of course, they went right for the booze.  Schaeffer would say that had good taste, as those ponies dove right into the Sierra Nevada (his) over the Bud Light (mine).  I say they knew they'd be messing with me otherwise.  (Wish I had a picture of this.)

She looks like a pro.

I mixed all of the barbecue sauce ingredients in a big tupperware and cooked it on site.  This made for much easier transportation, and much less to transport.  After the sauce started to simmer for awhile, I poured it into two foil pans and put the chicken right in there with it.  It was likely the easiest way to get that barbecue flavor without marinating it for hours in the fridge. 

The asparagus turned out fabulous.  It was a real treat to have a perfectly cooked veggie while camping.  Originally thinking I would grill it in a foil pouch, I decided instead to put the fry pan right on the grill.  Slicing it into petite 2 inch spears, tossing with olive oil, salt, pepper and minced garlic, it was perfect.   

It was so wonderful to sit at a picnic table with Nate and cook right outside.  Not having a grill myself or any outside space for cooking, it is such a refreshing way to make a meal. 

Some people are more helpful than others.  Not to mention any names.

I had the foresight, - which we should note here, since I don't write many sentence starting with those words, to pre-cook the potatoes at home first.  They went into the microwave for 10 minutes, poked all over with a fork, wrapped in paper towel.  It was a good way to get them about 1/3 of the way done before headed out to the camp site. 

All in all it was a delicious meal and a wonderful night out in nature.  In the morning though, when all was soaked to bone, wind beaten and covered in sand, this conversation, groggy eyed and kinks in the neck, transpired:

Me: Well, I think we really need to just pack up everything and haul on out of here.

Schaeffer:  As opposed to what, Dr. Obvious, build a sand castle?

You see, no more camping for awhile.  At least not with Schaeffer.  

172 to go...

The return of the pine nut. Finally.

Quite oddly, the pine nut has been out of stock at the Whole Foods on P St NW in DC for some time now.  As a lover of pine nuts, for reasons I've both provided and bored you with before, this came as unfortunate news.  So, needless to say, the moment I was in a Whole Foods in another city, namely Franklin, TN, I checked the shelf for my favorite goes-with-everything-nut. Check check!  With Schaffer rolling his eyes at my excitement over finding them, and his anxiety over when we would in fact be done in this hell hole he thinks of grocery stores, (a sacrilege, I know it), I found a big ol' box of them.  I stored them right in my suitcase like a dear souvenir from my, hopefully first of many, trip to Nashville. 

Menu:

Angel hair with spiced butter (#126)

Herbs I know. And love. I get them.  I can pull some from my balcony-garden and toss them in what I making for dinner, in a vinaigrette, as a soup topping.  No problem there. Spices, not so much. I mean sure, I can throw in paprika with potatoes and cayenne pepper to add heat to a sauce, but 1/2 teaspoon of this and a teaspoon of that and a 1/4 teaspoon of something else?  Nope. That, my friends, I do not have. So, I was intrigued by pasta paired with a spiced butter sauce.  And, of course, I scouted it out because it called for a generous helping of pine nuts.  

Libby was out of town on business, - the girl really hit the ground running the moment she arrived in DC, and Beth came over for a nice mid-work week supper. The grocer was fresh out of asparagus that looked like anything but slightly shriveled floppy shoe laces.  Needless to say, I passed on that and went with zucchini. 

The spices really did end up to be a nice combination and the sauce had a bit of a kick, which is always a pleasant addition to plain pasta, salad and a green veggie.  I think my lackluster skills in the spice arena comes from the fact that measurement is kind of key here.  And, although Julia would wave her finger in disagreement, measurements aren't an absolute with herbs. At least not the super common ones.  

174 to go...      

Good things, new things & both things.

When people say all good things must come to an end, I have one thing to say to them: "Why?" I have simply never understood why is absolutely natural and necessary for all good things to end. Having been blessed with a whole lot of good things in my life, I really hope this isn't true. It was true, however, with my dear roommate Beth. Having decided it was time to act like a grown up (I can't understand it either) and have an apartment all on her own, Beth moved out. The door to her apartment building may be less than one hundred yards from the door to my apartment building, but nonetheless, we packed up her belongings and carried her mattress across 16th St NW on our shoulders. No, really we did.

It also meant that a new roommate has moved in. She is fabulous and funny and friendly, and her name is Libby. I'm super excited to have a new friend, and she is new to the District which certainly helps us all be reminded how shiny the city can look from the perspective of fresh eyes. Whilst I was getting my y'all and do-si-do on in Nashvegas, Libby moved in.

The twelve hour drive home to DC, coupled with the end of anticipation for the trip and reluctant goodbyes that were exchanged, brought on a tinge of the mean reds. It called for one meal and one meal only. Spaghetti and Meatballs.

Menu:

Angel hair with meatballs and three tomato sauce (#125)
Arugula salad with tomatoes, olives & vinaigrette

My stamina was running low, but I found a package of frozen meatballs in the freezer and ran to the little market down the street for some ingredients to cook up something homemade and spicy to go with those not-fresh-but-will-do-the-trick meatballs. We chatted over dinner about her whirlwind first weekend in this new city (she moved from Chicago), works, boys, families, friends...

I've been known to be resistant to change. But Beth moving out and Libby moving in is helping me realize that rather than one good thing ending, it is one good thing moving into another stage and another good thing taking foot.

Welcome, Libby.

175 to go...

Family, fiddles and food.

I love a mom. Lower case "m". Yes, of course, I love Mom, too, but I also just love a mom in general. I've found that about ninety percent of the time a mom knows how you're feeling, if something is off and makes you feel right at home. One the fourth grade teachers at my school is my "work mom", and I hope I can find a mom in a whole bunch of places life brings me in which my own Momma can't be. This is precisely why meeting someone else's mom, and their whole family, is a very special thing to me.

This endeavor brought me to Nashville, Tennessee for the first time to meet the DeArmond gang, Schaeffer's family. You always hear bits and pieces about a family throughout conversations and getting to know someone, but ain't nothin' like meetin' all y'all myself. A wedding in Nashville put the trip on the calendar, but meeting the family is certainly the reason we went.

Schaeffer and parents.

The weekend was full of hugs from the very beginning, sitting around the table together, dancing to dueling fiddles at "Robert's Western World", relaxing in front of movies on floors and couches and very reluctant goodbyes. It was pretty much the most wonderful family meeting circumstance ever. Hands down.

The second night of our trip I cooked a big family style meal for the gang. Luckily, I think it went pretty well. But, before we get to that, look at the garden Mrs. D has going. Utterly stunning, really. Maybe she'll teach me a thing or two about gardening. I need some help in that department.

Too beautiful to cut and put in a vase, me thinks.

Menu:

Butterflied Chicken with Cracked Spices (#121)

Mustard and Coriander Roasted Potatoes (#122)

Lemon-Buttered Broccoli (#123)

Salad with Champagne Vinaigrette

Lime Vanilla Tart with Blackberries and Blueberries (#124)

This was a menu of careful planning and ambitious cooking. Maybe, just maybe, I was working a little extra hard to impress my new Tennessean friends. I spent the afternoon cooking with Schaeffer and his sister, Meagan, and we had more than a laugh or two as we prepared the dessert, not once but twice, and as they watched me remove the back and breast bones from two chickens after watching a YouTube how-to video very closely.

Work on the tart was going so wonderfully, including Schaeffer using his (make shift) double broiler skills, I was juicing about a million limes, okay, only about eight limes and his sister was helping me locate a food processor. It was a real team effort. Just as I had the custard in the refrigerator, the butter and eggs creamed for the dough, I asked Meagan where I could find the salt. Puzzled, she pointed to the large container right next to me. "Haha Meagan. That's the sugar." no, indeed it was the salt. Giving myself a little smile and reaching for the fridge door to get the chilling custard to toss it into the trashcan. You know sometimes you have to roll with the punches. You know? So roll with them I did. And make a new everything too.

Then it was onto the chickens. Man were they fun! Nothing like getting your hands dirty with a little bone-removing action on two healthy looking roasters. N'est-ce pas?

I first cut out the back bone and then popped out the breast bone. No, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. But, that's where YouTube comes in beautifully. What on Earth did we do before the internet?

I rubbed these little fellas with a myriad of spices; coriander, cumin, paprika, fennel seeds and threw the pans under the broiler.

And this is what happened:

I know, right? Who'd have known butterflied roast chickens and the broiler could produce such delicious results? Try it and thank me later.

The chicken paired well with the mustard potatoes and the ever so slightly lemony broccoli. However, I must say, despite the dramatic kitchen preparations, I think it was dessert that was the main event of this meal.

Since I squeezed every drop of juice from the limes in the first go-round of cooking, and I hardly had time to make and chill the custard again, I nixed the limes for about a teaspoon of vanilla extract. Good news? It worked just fine.

All in all Tennessee really was special. An added bonus lesson learned? Always taste the salt and sugar. Looks, as we've learned before, can be deceiving.

I can hardly wait to get back down to Nashville to visit Misses, Mister, Sterling (brother), Meagan (sister) and Possum (brother-in-law), buy egg cartons with Bible verses and do-si-do around the dance floor again. I think this redhead from the Jersey Shore has a bit more Southern in there then she ever knew.  Thank you, DeArmonds, for such a wonderful and welcoming visit.

176 to go...

Oh, and I love a dad, too.

A circle of girlfriends is a relatively new concept in my life.  I've spent some time both learning to make and maintain these relationships and appreciate their importance.  Finally spending some time on this part of my social life has been rewarding, at times scary, and incredibly important.  Suffice it to say, the quintessential 'girls night' is equally new.  And, I'm happy to report, equally fun.  There were two perfectly simple nights of pasta with just girls, full with dinner, laughter and wine.  

Menu:

Angel hair with mushrooms and asparagus (#119)

Ricotta toast 

Salad

After reading about this deliciously simple mushroom side recipe on Dana Treat, I thought it'd be perfect for the gaggle of girls full with all kinds of vegetarian needs.  I tossed asparagus in the last couple of minutes to add something green and then poured the mixture over pasta. 

Menu:

Angel Hair with Mint and Basil Pesto (#120)

The link here is for basil pesto, and might I add it is a delicious recipe, however, I picked up some mint and added equal parts basil and mint for this pesto sauce.  Mint is perhaps one of the most perfect summer flavors.  When I was little my dear neighbor, adopted granddad and friend, Tommy Capelli, used to have a garden in his backyard full of herbs and vegetables.  He used to pick five or six leaves, I'd taste them and tell him which leaf was which plant.  But, mint was different.  "Mint" alone wasn't quite adequate.  He'd respond, "Peppermint or spearmint?"  This was such a fun game to me, and because of it, I know my mints!  The rest of the bunch was perfect thrown in a big pitcher of water with lemon.  

I wish I'd taken some pictures of these wonderful friends on this night, but, alas, until next time.  Amalie, Beth, Abby and Molly, thanks gals.  My dearest friend Irene, from college and grad school, and a fellow teacher, was in town that weekend, too.  Although not together for girls night, she is by far one of the most loyal person I know.  I can officially say, I get the girlfriend thing. 

180 to go...

Are these just stunning or what?

Stick around for the Nashvegas edition coming up very soon...

One weekend, two dinner parties. Twenty two people, two bedroom apartment.

Sorry y'all, I've been busy dancing to dueling fiddles in Nashvegas visiting the most lovely family ever.  But more on that soon...

As the school year is winding up at lightning speed, I have caught a rather extensive case of senioritis.  The prognosis is grim.  I feel like a senior in high school, having taken all her AP tests and made a deposit on the college of her dreams, she attends school only not to be marked absent.  Ok, maybe I am being dramatic.  Maybe.  But, truth be told, I am leaving my post as a learning specialist at this wonderful little school in DC to go back to school full time.  I'll still be nestled in my home on 16th Street NW, but instead of meandering across town in my car or on my bike, I will be wandering uptown to start a doctoral program in learning disabilities.  I couldn't be happier with this big change and anxious to get started.  To have some proper goodbyes and share some laughter, several colleagues huddled in my apartment with their partners to share a great big meal.  But I will get to that in a minute.  Because, the night before, I had another dinner party.  Nate's big brother, Peyton, came to town, so we celebrated in proper style with a dinner party for him, Regina's roomies and the gang.  Parfait.  Truth be told, I made two of the big ol' pork shoulders for the following night and served it Friday.  

 Nice touch, Nate.

Onto the next night...

Menu:
Crackers with olive tapenade (#111)
Peppercorn Roasted Pork (#112) with Vermouth Pan Sauce (#113)
Poulet Poele a l'Estragon (Casserole-Roasted Chicken with Tarragon) (#114)
Garlic and thyme baked potatoes (#115)
Simple Salad with Mustard Vinaigrette
Ricotta Tart (#116) with Mixed Berry Compote (#117)

The meal was ambitious, the company was excellent and the pictures, sadly, my friends, are subpar.  I've written this entry in my head throughout this case of senioritis, which has kept me from all sorts of productivity.   The recipe for the pork, from Gourmet, has been on the docket for quite some time.  Waiting for just the right moment to try and tackle it, including the stuffing twenty slits all around the meat with a peppercorn rub, allowing it rest for 24 hours and cooking it in my sometimes-unreliable oven, I'm so glad I did.  It has officially pushed me through any anxiety I was still holding onto surrounding the meat department.  

It is true that the pork was perhaps the main event for the meal, but having a non-pork eater in attendance, a roast chicken was in order also.  I turned to Julia for this one, and her casserole roasting plan is one that really intrigues me.  Try it.  Now.

The mother hen covered in the mother load of butter.

 Gravy from the gods.  And Julia.

The potatoes were delicious, but I omitted the anchovies.  I know, I know...I promised I'd be adventurous.  Maybe next time.

 Substitute the dried fruit compote in the recipe for the one I linked up there.  We are far too deep into the glories of summer, including its farmer's markets and produce, to be using dried fruit.  

 The company was wonderful.  Thanks for bearing with the make-shift seating of my apartment and the heat that can happen in that living room from an oven that has been on nearly all day.  I'll miss you all.

 183 to go...