carbo load
sunday night hunkiest and i made our way over to balboa island for a stock, so-cal, summertime date night.
balboa island shines in the summer. dutch doors swing hello-to you wide; welcoming the wandering and strolling alike. an impromptu patio frolic is a common sight on every block. with beast in tow we ambled through the streets of houses and stores as she chased kitties and taste tested the various water bowls offered to her from shopkeeper to shopkeeper. the main avenue offers up colorful, seaside themed boutiques, non-chain restaurants, a killer candy store and ice cream shops offering the famous balboa bar.
for food we chose our favorite, red-checkered table-clothed, pop & mom, italian hideaway near the bay bridge. dark red cabernet for him, bubble water and lime for me, we cozied in a corner and imagined ourselves on a hot, sticky night in a roman trattoria.
perusing the menu of pastas, pizzas, calzones and secondi, i formulated my list of 4 acceptable items to order. i always choose four selections just in case my first choices aren't available. oh the miserable dining experiences i've had whence a panic order ensued following me not having a backup plan. miserable for me, and for those sharing said meal with me. such non-preparation has resulted in arctic dover sole, the bok choy salad, a watercress sandwich, ratatouille, and the dreaded steamed artichoke {hate those blasted things!}.
although it goes against the rules of etiquette, i almost always ask my man to order first, as if my order is the prize, the grand finale the table has all been waiting to hear, rather i'm still making up my indecisive, monkey mind.
and what will you be having for having for dinner? lisa, the waitress, finally asked me.
i was poised and ready with my 1 through 4: either the catch of the day, steamed mussels, steamed clams, or the caesar salad.
i'll have the fettucine alfredo, please.
!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?
{stunning silence}
yep. i ordered the fettu-muthafuckin-cine al-fatto, otherwise known as heart attack on a plate, and i did with a tone that said if you question me, "lisa", i'll take this chianti shaped candle, and shove it down your, up till now, pleasant pipe. i'm quite sure lisa had to check with the chef to see if he still knew how to prepare the pasta; the notoriously unhealthy dish is ordered so rarely. and i can put money on the kitchen running out to the local market for more sticks of butter.
after we found his jaw, and picked up off the ground, hunkiest and i deconstructed the mystery of my tourette order. did i have a stroke? was i possessed by my inner 6-year-old? what on earth had caused me, an exercise professional, a typically healthy eater, someone who likes her pants loose {and her bass down low} to order the most clogging of arteries and highest of fat and calories on the menu; the one item that not only needs to have the price, but also the local cardiac sprecialist's number listed next to it?
my answer was simple: it was the first thing that caught my eye on the menu, and no matter what i tried to distract myself with in terms of taste and health, i kept coming back to that damned fettucine alfredo! i know myself. had i ordered the fish, i would have eaten without tasting it, finished the whole damn thing and not have been satisfied, because what i really wanted in the first place was that oooeey-gooey white mess on a plate.
the dish came. in i went. literally. coming up for air i looked like i had been in a face painting contest with a benjamin moore windsor cream shellac.
i think there was dinner conversation.....i don't remember, my hearing was stifled with alfredo sauce that had trickled into my eardrums.
feeling my once, flowy trapeze sundress morph into a tight-fitting, herve leger-like casing for a sausage, i responsibly pushed my plate away even though i could have easily continued to eat the rest of the buick sized plate. when our nosy waitress came back to "check on me" i made her take away my fork; not my plate, my fork. i wasn't going to begrudge my fellow diner from the six sticks of butter still remaining, but at least without a fork i could no longer partake in the madness. at least not with utensils. you see m'loves, i have zero self-control when it comes to food. torture me, tickle me, beat me down; i can take a lot. but put a plate of cheesy pasta in front of me: uncle!!!
i'm not ashamed. i had a delightful, delicious meal. there's something about fettuccine alfredo that makes me feel like a kid. i ordered it as a child. it's typically the go-to order when we're with others' children. it made my husband happy too. he gleefully slurped up the creamy noodles with abandon, free of care.
afterward, we kept this caution to the wind mood going with a walk down to the ice cream shop: mint chip for him, cotton candy for me.
yesterday it was back to my delicious regime of salads, fruit, and no regrets. you did not break me mr. alfredo!
tell me loves, what are your forbidden foods? do you give in?
tuesday happy m'loves!
weekend happy
farewell my endless, carefree as a whisper, summer. i will miss you much.
i will miss the smell of your backyard barbecue. the silent, but potent neighborhood bell which beckoned the sunburnt, beach-cruiser riding puppies home each day from the sand.
how sad i'll be to bid adieu to my summer scents. one for day, a breezy, light, swing in a seaside hammock kind of fragrance; sweet and soft, not too strong, yuzu mixed with the pacific ocean. the other for night, a strong, night-blooming jasmine blended with a stronger honeysuckle, make this a true southern california scent; melissa flagg's oils conjure memories of late night, top-down drives, through the hot santa ana's.... trisha yearwood on the radio, young boys on the brain.
goodbye mr. panama hat. it's back to wooly bowler standby's for fall.
come tuesday that orange blossom love which has floated throughout the house for the last 3 months will morph into a spicier, less petal-like waft. i know i'll long for my dark, warm mornings where the gentle aroma of white flowers waltzing against a cobalt, blue sea guide me into my day.
so long to summer's fresh, off the vine tomatoes and california avocados. i'm wet duck lucky to have such delicious local candy at my fingertips.
an afternoon nap, just my beast and i, under the serenading whirl of ceiling fan. we keep cool, talk girl, and steal away from the silly outside summer antics. this ritual i may have to keep year-long.
so m'loves, did you have a nice summer too? what will you miss?
a weekend happy to you.
see you on the other side of sunday!
my favorite summer meal
we've had some delicious food this summer, eaten at some spiffy restaurants, but so far nothing beats this 5-ingredient masterpiece.
tomatoes, candy sweet, fresh from my dad's garden.
aromatic basil snipped directly from my patio pot.
the creamiest burrata in town.
and a 25-year-old aged balsamic, so honey-thick, its olive oil sibling is left unused.
put them on plate, add a couple of toast points, and voilà! you have the best tasting meal, in my opinion, of the summer.
bon appétit m'loves.
scenes from a weekend
this weekend, summer officially started her sun-sprouting engine in california.
shoes came off, knees were bared, frolic ensued.
here's a glimpse of how it went down here.
friday date nights call for silk scarves and red lips.
hunkiest and i tried out the newest, local oyster bar.
red for him, sparkly with a fancy garnish for me.
unfortunately neither of us losers eat oysters, luckily we had other options.
fish and chips for him {he at his fish...i ate his "chips"} and copper river salmon for me!! the last of the season!
if you've never had copper river salmon, please try it next year. it's only available {fresh} four weeks a year. and YES, it is that good.
post seafood sweet.
i limit myself to toppings. and only the crap kind.
saturday we strolled the coast-lined streets of our azure-skied town.
sunday morning coffees and pastries with the beast.
sunday, bloody mary, sunday night.
we beckoned the naughty vamps to come out and play.
a fine finale to a grand weekend.
so far, summer's holding the promise of sun, sultry and romp.
ching ching!
monday happy to you m'loves.
*all photos: goodniteirene.wordpress.com
what's for dinner
[vimeo http://vimeo.com/21870705 w =700 &h=602]
saturday, i stumbled on this visual bouquet of blogosphere sweet.
always a sucker for quinoa, a video tutorial was just the inspiration i needed to get my stove out its dusty doldrums.
quinoa {pronounced keen-wah} is known as a 'super food'.
a favorite among vegetarians for its high protein and 8 amino acid content, a favorite among masses for its delicious taste and versatility.
high in fiber, quinoa scores very low on the glycemic index, provides 30% of daily magnesium {good for migraine sufferers and digestive disorders}, supplies 20% of daily folate, 15% iron, 18% copper {good for cell tissue rejuvenation and helps to fight infections}, 28% phosphorous {bone health}, and 60% manganese {free radical fighter}.
quinoa is also gluten and wheat free.
a 'super' food indeed.
happy cooking m'loves.
styling
i'm just now coming down from my sugar high...
have y'all caught the fabulous new ezine styled?
created by victoria hudgens of a subtle revelry, styled is plush with jewelry hued photographs and hand-clapping ideas, bringing fresh inspiration to your entertaining and party planning this spring.
styled includes such bits like step by step guides to making your own confetti, cabochon, and party hats...and not in the cheesy party city type of way...nor in the martha stewart...first you must start your own paper press kind of way either.
styled's bohemian easter will have you canceling that fancy, jacket required buffet brunch in exchange for bare feet and potato chips with smashed spring peas.
each spread had me reeling in fantasy.
i must say it was a tough decision....picking my favorite story...butterfly picnic? complete with a hair-braided child in white, wind blown dress? killin me. or grown-up lemonade stand? lulling me in with lavender lemonade martinis and girl talk.
but i can't get my brain unwrapped around the paint by number ice cream bar.
my friends know, make-your-own sundae bars are one of laziest favorite ways to serve dessert. {thank you girls bunko....although we haven't actually played in 5 years...}
this is an even prettier, creamier {whipped cream that is} version with candies and sprinkles colored in spring.
in all honesty though...this doesn't seem so much like make-your-own-sundae. it appears to be more like 'hostess does ALOT of work for her guests who then can make their own sundaes'. FYI.....
nevertheless it's pretty.
and pretty, and all things pink and lilac, usually negate yucky, sweat, and tears in my book.
styled most certainly made my day happier...
a wednesday happy to you m'loves.
a weekend recipe
caffeinated courage.
lithe ambition.
a dance with dairy.
fire in the belly.
fire in the wood oven.
rinse, repeat and lather.
march
true to form, monsieur march came in like a lion;
surly and base, big paws swiping madly in the air.
agile as a cat, i luckily avoided any pops or scrapes to the face and bod.
silly little lions can't knock me down;
i'm always ready for a nice tangle and scrap.
scratch that. not true. pants on fire.
i HATE confrontation.
i'm quite the chicken.
cluck. cluck.
i'd rather hold my tongue than rumble.
my legs have a nice cozy spot for my tail.
but with all the bumps and barnacles i must share what else march has tendered:
homemade key lime pie.
mumford and son's tickets.
this year's first bloom of my jasmine plant.
a friday evening of french cuisine and friends.
new screen doors throughout the house.
a family dinner.
new bedroom furniture.
my dad's birthday.
my mom's beautiful smile.
spin and pilates students giving me goosebumps with their dedication.
blog posts making me cry, scream with laughter, and happy dance {sometimes all at once}.
my beasts discovering the art of spooning.
plum blossom bath soap.
pink nails.
hunkiest.
and finally the privilege of talking to you m'loves.
thursday happy to you!
tell me loves.....
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bxnEz6qUuT4]
what tickles you most from jenna's italian jaunt?
marissa's coral magic lippies?
those mouth-watering bowls of pasta?
shiny and squared, perfectly lacquered nails every sixth frame?
tension easing gelato breaks?
or afternoon espresso in the piazza?
buon giorno italia!!!
*thank you mrs burns for the 'nudge'.
busted
i have a problem.
i can't stop eating the peanut butter in our house.
right there out of the jar.
heinous and uncouth.
please, if ever you are our guest, and are offered a sandwich with this said condiment, insist that we use a fresh, unopened bottle. otherwise you are subject to a peanut butter ravaged and abased with my passed, unstoppable spoon dips.
i try to qualify my food crime with buying organic, unsalted, sugar-free peanut butter. in the end though, when you're scraping the bottom of the glass, and your peasant blouse fits like lycra.....does it really matter?
last week i had had enough. i trash canned ALL the peanut butter in the house.
out of sight out of mind. out of my mouth.
{maybe the silverware will go next}
all was going so well until hunky hubby wanted his saturday peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
him: where's all the peanut butter?
me: uh. well, ah...hmm. ahh....don't i look cute in this dress?
20 minutes later my beloved returned from the market with a jar of.....skippy.
skippy?!!!??
skippy, in like annette funicello?
skippy, where the ingredient list has sugar before peanuts?
if ever a label could boast its hydrogenated oil content this one does.
remind me of this when i'm checking in for my bypass surgery.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dXxZufU13qQ]
happy monday m'loves, this youtube walk down memory lane has me major crushing on annette's hair; i'm dashing to the salon.
oh, and yes, i finished that goddamn jar of skippy too.
click image for source
happy weekend
m'loves, riddle me your plans of weekend treat.
i will be working the whole way through.
{giant, dramatic, lea michele sigh}
i hope you're getting a giggle from these silhouettes.
designer, wilhelm stahaele, handcuts these vintage silhouettes,
and then adds his own tasty dash of naughty and quip.
each had me chuckling louder than the next.
{ill advised when sitting alone, attempting to maintain that grunge, frustrated writer, coffee house look.but now that i think of it, my extra shiny penny loafers and cotton candy pink ribbon bracelet ridiculed any angst image i was trying to create}
who am i kidding? i'm a preppy poser at heart.
according to wilhelm's website, when he's not frightening small children with his disfiguring looks he schleps his works for profit.
i've saved my favorite for last.
shitstorm is a pet and prized term in our household.
we use it like mustard. and we put mustard on EVERYTHING.
{last night i had a touch of egg salad with my mustard}
happy weekend dears.
a croissant pudding
no scented candles needed for this nest.
the house still lingers from my weekend baking bonanza.
i share with you my caramel-croissant pudding:
it starts with croissants.
{didn't go fancy-pants on the croissant maker-a mexican market in altadena}
i substituted brown sugar when making the caramel.
sweetest sous chef ever.
priscilla. supervising.
whipping cream {swoon}
bourbon {swoon squared}
c'est magnifique!
here's the recipe in its entire. i would tweak the bourbon content if you're serving to children or people who might be sensitive to a liquor taste. tis quite strong. this is wonderful on its own or even better with vanilla ice cream. i still can't believe how easy and fast it is to make. definitely going to be seeing it come holiday time.
2 stale all-butter croissants, coarsely torn
1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons water
1/2 cup heavy cream {i used whipping cream instead}
1/2 cup milk
2 tablespoons bourbon
2 large eggs, beaten
1. preheat the oven 350'. lightly butter a 1-quart, shallow baking dish and arrange the croissant pieces in the dish. in a small saucepan, stir the sugar and water over moderately high heat until the sugar dissolves; wash down any crystals on the sides with a wet pastry brush. cook without stirring until a medium amber caramel forms, about five minutes. remove from the heat and stir in the cream, milk and bourbon. cook over low heat just until any hardened caramel dissolves.
2. in a bowl, whisk eggs. gradually whisk in the hot caramel. pour over croissants and let stand for 10 minutes, pressing the croissants to keep them submerged.
3. bake the pudding in the center of the oven for 2o minutes, until puffed and golden. let cool for 10 minutes. then serve.
recipe from food and wine magazine.
operation SWEET
earlier this week hh and his pal ted, aka bert and ernie, found some rather high horses to poise atop.
there, they both boasted, ad nauseum, their expertise in deciphering the varying choices of vanilla ice cream the world has to offer. i'm pretty sure i remember the words:
no, chance we couldn't tell french vanilla from vanilla bean from vanilla. etc....
it was if i had asked these two apes what their middle names were; which, given the right day, might take them a beat or two.
if smug were an outfit, these two would have chain stores rivaling GAP.
my hands were tied. i had to challenge this non-sensical big talk.
i went to ralphs and purchased EVERY flavor of vanilla ice cream i could find.
second, came the blindfolds.
the girls, i think, just wanted some ice cream.....
this is where it started to get a little patty hearst for my taste......
each was given a sheet of paper with the names of the vanillas. they merely had to number the order in which they tasted.
the most correct was..................two.
hunky hubby ernie got them all wrong. {big smile}
you would think victory would be my most coveted memory of said evening, but tis not.
this here momofuku crack pie (aptly named) is still coursing through my memory veins fondly.
after making us the entire momofuku meal of miso cod, brown rice, stir fried, farmers market vegetables, and berries, bert finished it off with homemade crack pie.
he is officially forgiven for any prior vanilla pomposity.
staycationing....
still whirling from my weekend away (7 whopping miles).
in celebration of our dearest's 40th year on earth we feted grandly with pops, putts, and pampering.
the boys whacked the white, dimpled ball from fairway to green,
the girls blissed and basked in the hands of a masseuse.
poolside hijinks ensued.
we made sure we were properly hydrated.
shower, shine, and i was ready to shimmy.
even hh stepped up with footwear à fancy.
we gorged on a meal of eggplant, burrata, and pasta so fresh i need not chew.
balls to you morning! a giant thank you to lyndsey for opening the cafe for an early riser.
{cannot sleep in; even on vacation}
remedies for previous day's and night's shenanigans.
remorseful katie.
i'm back on the horse. ready to relather, rinse and repeat.
we've got another full day; headache be damned!
meet ya in the cabana.
a simple wish
it's party time.
shhhhhh.....it's a surprise.
we've been planning, and trying to keep it under wraps.
but the day has come.......
HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHRISTINA!!!!
it's going to be a crowded bash over at soul aperture; for the ledger of all who love the empress is long and grows by the hour.
our entry ticket must a list of simple things to "show what we appreciate, and what we are grateful for – no matter how big or small, these things may seem.”
i give you ten of mine:
sunday morning dates with my new york times and a pot of coffee. no cell phone or laptops making fourth wheel appearances.
a summer song for after dinner strolling; or for sipping wine in solitude on the sofa.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cuZo7pLnL7c]
trust.
an afternoon nap.
a bare beach.
ponytails.
handwritten letters
hearty, savoury meals.
a night at the movies.
manners.
there you have it. my simple things for the summer.
happy birthday miss christina.
one giant ladleful of love to you lovely lady.
click images for source.
kreativ blogger
i'm sure there was some sort of mistake.
i'm so not worthy of such an award,
but, in what i suspect was copious amount of black tar heroin consumption,
the divine deborah of dumbwit tellher bestowed the very generous kreativ blogger badge upon moi.
to say i have procrastinated is putting it mildly: she gifted me march 1st.
tis how i roll. i'm still sending out wedding invitations, and we're coming up on our 2nd year anniversary.
i tend to fall behind.
part of my hesitance has been the job of summoning up 7 personal items of substance and circumstance to impart upon, you, my loveliest of readers.
i can easily give you 7 things that are annoying and compulsive. but the former......i gots nuttin.
rather than try to dazzle i will go for the informative route. these may not be sparkly, antic facts, but all are true and differentiate me from the all the other mouthy, half-japanese/half caucasian, childless, compulsive eating, newport beach housewives around here.
1. i am terrified i will be the worst mother ever. we're talking joan crawford style wretched. i'm in love with a baby i haven't even conceived. but i'm deathly afraid said child will be asking hh for someone more adept and competent with her first words.
2. i love gummi bears. but only the haribo brand. and only the orange and yellow bears. i won't touch red, white and green. they taste like someone else's regurgitated jello shots: a senior graduation trip to puerta vallarta i'm still trying to forget.
3. i like to have things planned way ahead of time. and i make lists like ina garten makes cobblers.
i'm a moronic-scheduling-maniac, who writes everything done in my filofax (yes, i still live in the 1990's), re-syncs it in my blackberry, and triple confirms it to my desk calendar. i even schedule my spontaneity.
4. i take multiple baths everyday.
5. crickets. i hate crickets. i also hate silence which, in effect, is pseudo-crickets.
6. my left pinky toe lies horizontal. i was born with it this way. we call it bitch toe.
7. i am always cold. i wear a fluffy, cozy wrappy all the time to keep warm. even in 100 degree costa rica sunshine i had goosebumps. it's no longer adorable to my hh, but to still to get his attention i dramatically cry out, "baby, i am frijoles!!".
yes, i know this translates to " i am beans." BUT i like the way it almost sounds like "i am freezing", and it makes him smile.
so there you go. my seven things. it only took me 4 months to figure them out, put them to paper, and post.
i'm apparently supposed to tag the kreativ blogger onto 7 other blogs to keep the party going.
argh!! i hate that i have to narrow it down to 7....
duel living, jeune marie, sweet nothings, reverie, trust your style, with love from pittsburgh, and audrey onassis.
feel free to accept the tag if you like or pass it on to your discretion.
thank you again deb. you set the standard, oh goddess of katy, texas.
weekend brunching
pink patent leather pumps and pink polka dots.
burrata so fresh it spoke italian to me. arugula with tomatoes still dusty from the vine; just the way i ordered them.
scrambled eggs and fontina...why, of course? asparagus, and more arugula. i think i could open my own dairy with the amount of butter used in this le creuset alone.
when in faux itailian newport coast fancy schmancy restuarant one must do as the faux italian newport coastians do: order mousse al cioccolato.
by the time the check arrived, the pink polka dots were more resembling that goopy, blobby lava lamp shape. i noticed the waitstaff hiding silverware from me. i needed to get out of my dress, and into a nice elastic waistband.
happy monday y'all.