grouper cheeks

i’ve been out of the kitchen most of the last two weeks.  i have a wonderful mother who has taken over the cooking from omar and me during her visit.

then last night omar and i went on a date and it rekindled my interest in my new kitchen – weirdo color scheme and all.

miami has a summer restaurant promotion, miami spice, where you can go to swanky restaurants for a reasonable price. friends raved about michy’s so off we went.  the chef is even one of the chefs featured in the previously mentioned my last supper:  50 great chefs and their final meals.  between the two of us there was pork belly, ham/manchego croquetas, prime rib, grouper cheeks (yes, grouper cheeks), red velvet cupcake, and chocolate panna cotta.  seriously, this was good.  as in amazing good.

but i’m going to brag a bit on myself here and say that a friend who went to michy’s the night before had the panna cotta and then told her husband, “kate’s is better.”  amen.  the chocolate did make it a bit rich.  

so tonight in (a belated) celebration of my dad’s 60th birthday, i whipped up a batch of basil panna cotta.  it looks kind of humble and boring.  but it is not.  and it’s easy.  you can’t beat that.  so happy birthday to my dad, who just awhile ago said he could just drink the cream mixture out of the saucepan and be happy. see, it’s that good.

basil panna cotta – adapted from farmhouse panna cotta the splendid table’s how to eat supper

2 TBS cold water
1.5 tsp unflavored gelatin
3 cups heavy cream
1/3 cup sugar, or to taste 
pinch of salt
1 tsp vanilla extract
1.5 TBS packet basil leaves 
1 cup sour cream (do not use low fat)

1. combine cream through basil leaves and warm over medium-high heat until almost boiling.  remove from heat, cover, and let stand for 15 to 20 minutes. 

2. put the cold water in a small bowl, sprinkle the gelatin over it and let stand for 5 minutes.  remove the basil leaves.  stir the gelatin mixture into the cream.  

3. put the sour cream in a medium bowl, whisk in the cream until smooth.  create an ice bath with a large bowl filled with ice.  set the bowl of cream over the ice bath and whisk continuously until the cream reaches between 60 and 70 degrees.

4. pour the cream into 8 2/3 cup ramekins.  cover with plastic wrap and chill for 4 to 72 hours.  serve in the ramekins.

on wednesday i

…remembered why i have been a fan of small magazine.  the new fall issue is out and it is making me rethink my new found love of miami and want to run off to cold places where wool sweaters are needed.

…finished revelation by c.j. sansom – a mystery set in 16th century england amidst all the henry viii drama. i’ve enjoyed this series so far but i’ve got some major quibbles with this one.  and i was so excited.  a friend even hauled it over from england for us.  oh well.

…continued to relish the fact that my parents were in town to love on babies, be house-handy, make chicken pot pie, and give me some quiet time.

…continued to “oohh and aahh” over geninne’s bird prints and have yet to make my mind up as to which ones to buy.  i love these.

…kept thinking about my lunch yesterday at segafredo – grilled calamari salad while sitting amidst red sofas in downtown.  and they had excellent espresso.  and it is within walking distance.  score on three counts.  

may i have some johnny cash with that?

we found ourselves in coconut grove yesterday. we looked at boats and got sticky. then we devoured conch fritters and dolphin sandwiches (not the flipper kind for you inland people) at a local dive.  

a dive where a local band jams to tunes of johnny cash and other non-jimmy buffet greats (a blessed relief). i see them heading over to their instruments and get nervous that they won’t be any good.  but they were good.  upright bass, steel guitar, and a drummer with blue shades and bad dye job.  

and everyone was there.  hip miami-ians with their oversized sunglasses and uncomfortably high stilettos. moms with babies and kids who were running around all crazy and sweaty.  tourists.  and us.

have i mentioned that i’m really liking it here now?  i am.  

glassy

dear old house,

i love your glass doorknobs, all fourteen of them.

i love your wood floors but don’t love the many rotted out, scraped up, and loose boards that are scattered throughout.

i love that there was no practical space for our t.v. except for in the back (currently unusable) room.  that’s been good for me.  i don’t even miss it.

i love that my boys’ giggles echo through their bedroom walls.

i don’t love the termite that poked its head out the other day…and was killed as a result.

and i definitely don’t love the daisy decals that are permanently affixed to my sink.  

and your kitchen?  i promise, i am trying to love you.  but it is hard.

our monday troubadour

monday

elisha has started singing.  and today he started singing while strumming his 3-stringed while walking. quite the accomplishment.  his words are still mainly a mystery to us, though we did catch bits like “agua…pig…grandma…quattro…cheese…”

i can’t quite get a song out of my own head.  for some strange reason, while i was giving elisha yet another evidently torturous haircut, billy joel’s we didn’t start the fire came pounding into my head and has refused to leave.  i even have the music video streaming through my brain.  and i am surprised at how many words i remember.  i don’t think i’ve listened to the song since, oh, 1993.

tropical storm fay is making her appearance.  we’re cozied up inside waiting for the grandparents to arrive and listening to the perfect rainy day music – gonzales’ solo piano.  it’s quiet and beautiful.  omar and i are quite indebted to my brother for this find. 

and lastly, what’s a troubadour without mismatched pjs?  it’s not.

 

what new house?

for some odd reason i thought my boys would have an “adjustment period” to our new house.

not so much.

give some boys a new pad with gobs more space than their previous home where they can run, chase, dance, and be happy and evidently there will be no breaking in time.  

elisha jumps around on the top bunk, wields the new vacuum like a pro, and doodles masterpieces at his table.  

asher continues his blur-inducing, army crawling ways and enjoys the speed hardwood floors allows to his belly.  less friction than carpet.

i think they would cry if i led them up the stairs of our old house.  

the pig has arrived

five months.  it took me five months to decide to make a little pig to replace elisha’s beloved, now disemboweled knitted pig, and then actually do it.  

voilà.

my stuffing skills need to be worked on.  pig looks a bit bison-like at times.  but elisha loves it.  the ratty old pig is still adored and i don’t have the heart to take the stinky thing away…yet.

seriously

dear friend kelli alerted me to this, and well, how strange is this?  gwyenth paltrow, mario batali, mark bittman, and claudia bassols go on a road trip around spain and eat and chat and be famous and run into michael stipe.  it’s like a dream.  but real.  and yes, i will be watching.

fish and death, hold the malt vinegar

what a week.

a week where i feel anxious and nervous and question anything and everything there is to question:  my faith, my mothering, my wife-ing, my everything.

seriously, a stupid goldfish died two days ago and it seemed to be the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back.  i couldn’t even keep a goldfish alive for 5 days. it happened right before i walked out the door to my first spanish class.  so there i sat for two hours trying to engage and add more than puerto rican culinary dishes to my vocabulary.  and all i kept thinking about was how i fail at things.  crazy, right?   

with me, this all leads to anxiety.  why do we get so anxious at the little things?  i was eating lunch yesterday and realized i was speed-eating and anxious for no good reason.  i was shaking the malt vinegar on my fries with such passion and fury that i started to laugh at myself.  slow down.  

but i think that is the problem.  day in and day out is fairly slow around here.  i have two little ones who thrive on a routine and that makes for fairly repetitive days.  but it helps to view them as rhythmic rather than repetitive.  even so, in those rhythmic days there is quiet time.  quiet time to think and doubt and question myself.  and in a week like this past one it was doubting everything from why i don’t have more significant relationships in this town after four years to why i can’t keep a fish from dying.  

omar is on an idolatry kick.  he’s been doing lots of reading about how central idolatry is to sin.  and this afternoon it hit me.  i’m making an idol out of what people think/perceive of me.  i want to be valued in others lives.  and there is nothing wrong/sinful in that, but i realized that i’ve not been as concerned about my relationship with God as i am with my relationships with others.    

if i’m honest anxiety creeps in again when i realize there is no quick fix.  i know it’s a slow and hopefully steady path towards sanctification.  that is ok.  i’m learning. learning about what sanctification is, learning about how to build a stronger relationship with Christ.  and i have definitely learned that i cannot handle having pets bigger than a goldfish at the moment.

under the cellophane, full of talk

no, that coffeecake under the cellophane is not butter-less.  it’s full of butter.  i broke my vow for the week. but i will say that up to this point, my week has been full of chickpeas, salad, and other butter-free goodness.  but then today happened.

we had a meeting at our house this morning for emerging church leaders in miami. the first meeting of its kind in our house.  a meeting full of people who want to see the church grow and friendships form.  in my mind and omar’s that necessitates buttered up coffeecake.  

and it was good.  i also think it made our discussion of n.t. wright’s chapter on justice in simply christian more intelligent and thought provoking.  right.

then i tell myself i’ll have just one little piece.  but alas, if you were sitting next to me right now you’d see my crumb-filled lap. 

candles for 20

as you can see, the roman shade didn’t quite materialize.  standing in target, those drapery clips looked just a bit too easy for my tired self.  so it’s up and i am pleased for the time being.

and check out that candle-less candelabra.  20 candles!!  i’m still on the hunt for a good deal on 20 tapers. easier said than done.  when i pick it up i keep wanting to say, “i am frau blücher.”  i am enjoying this housewarming gift to myself.  

the boys are all out “home depot-ing” and i am enjoying a few peaceful minutes at home.  actually, i had to stay home to recover from our morning feast of mimosas and jimmy’s shortbread waffles courtesy of orangette’s site and abbie’s recipe-hunting skills.  1 waffle recipe = 2 sticks of butter.  2.  for some strange reason we doubled it even though there were only four of us, so that was four sticks of butter in the mixer. feast we did.  and to give you a little butter perspective, there was so much butter that when i was cleaning up i didn’t realize how much butter oozed out into the waffle maker, and when i picked it up the butter poured into the electrical/heating element.  the waffle maker now resides in the trash can.

i’m thinking this coming week is going to be butter-free.