Category Archives: Atlanta

12.14.13
by

Excessive Coupons and Christmas Kindness

A few days ago, I invited Nicholas on my couponing adventure at Target for the first time, since that’s the last place he ever wants to go after 12 hours of red and khaki.  But since we always opt to spend time together if we have the chance versus dividing and conquering, he came along and was a good sport about my frugality.  (I prepped my coupons and realized that I could essentially quadruple stack them in addition to my Cartwheel…we’re talking printable online coupons, paper coupons, manufacturer’s coupons and mobile phone coupons, in addition to my 20 coupon slots on Cartwheel.)

After a serious amount of time hunting down the items on our lists, we got in line at the register–I warned anyone who would listen that we were going to be awhile, since I’m no stranger to taking an extra 20 minutes at the register.  A couple with one cart each got in line behind us and I explained my excessive coupons and recommended another lane, but they assured me that they weren’t in a hurry.  I was holding a percentage off coupon that we couldn’t use.  I saw their heaped carts of children’s toys and clothes and I wanted to give it to them, but I felt really self conscious for some reason and awkwardly clung to the coupon.  At this point, they did decide to move lanes and while we were finishing up our excessive haul the husband came over to Nicholas.

“Can I give you something?”

We were both immediately skeptical.

“You want to give me something?” Nicholas repeated.

“Yes, if you’ll take it.”

He handed Nicholas a $100 bill, said Merry Christmas and walked away.  I stood there, shocked, embarrassed for my cynicism, and then looked down at the now sweaty coupon that I had wanted to give to them.  I looked around at all the guests in line, and wondered why he chose us.  I went over to their lane, thanked them, and explained the irony of this coupon I’d been wanting to give them.  The wife hugged me tightly, reminded me that things happen for a reason and we parted ways.

We saved $190 off of our purchase that night, but the experience of a stranger’s kindness was priceless.

 

 

10.28.13
by

Floor “Seats” At Nine Inch Nails

IMG_2899[1] IMG_2904[1]

The thing about falling in love with someone quite different in background and interests is that I often find myself in scenarios that I never dreamt I’d experience…and even enjoy.

I grew up listening to country music, as I had a small clock radio in my room I won from a band fundraiser, and I’d tune in to 104.9 or 97.3 and listen to country music at night before bed.  My dad would occasionally turn on the Grand Old Opry on Saturday nights and we’d listen downstairs for a little while together.  I realize this was my only exposure to music, and I might not have known what else I was missing, but I loved the passion in the lyrics and sounds of guitar, especially in the old stuff, like Kitty Wells, June Carter, and Johnny Cash.  One of my favorite summer memories is riding in an old pick up truck with my brother on our way to Tremont, blaring Steve Earle’s “Copperhead Road” and singing with reckless abandon.  Country music spoke to me directly and I was just sure that some of those songs were written just for me.  I understood the gravel roads, the hard farm work, and family values that trumped everything else.  I found a piece of myself in every song I heard and found comfort in feeling understood.

I still listen to country music; in fact, at least half of my presets are local country stations, but I’ve also been influenced by Nicholas’ musical tastes.  Nicholas is pretty open minded about music, and grew up listening to a variety of tunes, but was particularly interested in industrial bands throughout middle and high school; he owned t-shirts and CDs for bands like Skinny Puppy, Nine Inch Nails, KMFDM, and VNV Nation.  His parents often played the likes of The Rat Pack while they prepared red sauce and pasta, and his sister brought the hippie music of the 60s to round out the family’s musical tastes.

We listen to a bit of everything these days–Cold Play, Eminem, Pink, Fun, The Band Called Perry…the list goes on, but we’re both still true to our roots.  When I’m home alone, I listen to my favorite Pandora blend of old school country, and he’ll have anything from Jack and Diane Radio to an industrial band playing when he rules the roost.  But this past week, we experienced a blast from his past–together.  We had floor tickets for Nine Inch Nails on Thursday night, and after ten years of marriage, I couldn’t wait to experience something from his childhood, as his first NIN concert was in 1993. 🙂 We pushed our way through until we were about 20 feet from the stage.  The show was incredible, as Trent Reznor still owns the stage after a 25-ish year career as the lead singer of NIN.  The first set was his older music, and much to the shock of many friends from my younger days, I knew a few of the songs and loved the music and the experience.  It was an energetic surge of bodies and voices singing along and reliving a piece of their past, and I loved feeling like the clock backed up and allowed me to know more of Nicholas 15 years ago.

I recognize that there is nothing more important than our present life together, but this life is so heavily influenced by the people that we were, and the pieces of our past that we choose to share with each other continually shape our relationship.  When we first talked about tickets, I asked him if he wanted to take a friend instead, as I thought he might have more fun with someone who knew all their music.  He said the friend he wanted to take was me.

 

10.21.13
by

The Decade of Love Begins Here…

February 8th, 2003...the night we got engaged. Three weeks after our first date. :)

February 8th, 2003…the night we got engaged. Three weeks after our first date. 🙂

My first desk as a teacher...clearly a disaster. It's nice to see that I'm still consistent. :)

My first desk as a teacher…clearly a disaster. It’s nice to see that I’m still consistent. 🙂

My mom, a customer, and I in front of Café Au Lait.

My mom, a customer, and I in front of Café Au Lait.

My Lawrenceville apartment...July 2003.

My Lawrenceville apartment…July 2002.

Oscar....my ferocious house cat and travel "companion."

Oscar….my ferocious house cat and travel “companion.”

In honor of our ten year anniversary, and at the risk of being cliché or sharing too much, I decided to chronicle a bit of our story…

I moved to Atlanta for my first teaching job in the summer of 2002, immediately after my graduation from Millikin University in Illinois.  I was eager to create my own life in a new place, but this was a huge decision and I didn’t know a soul south of the Mason-Dixon line.  I rented an apartment in Lawrenceville and signed a contract as a teacher and coach at Apalachee High School in Winder.  I wasn’t exactly adept at driving in more than two lanes of traffic and ended up totaling my car one rainy fall day in the chaos of Atlanta traffic.  My teacher salary wasn’t covering my bills as it was, and adding a car to the list meant a second job. A few days later I started working nights and weekends at Café Au Lait, a coffee shop across the street from my apartment complex, and consequently next door to the Lawrenceville Target store.  Little did I know that totaling that sea-foam green Toyota Tercel would be the best thing that ever happened to me.

I juggled my three preps at school, coached tennis and cheerleading and worked 6 days a week at the café that semester; I was ecstatic for Christmas break and couldn’t wait to road-trip it back to Illinois with my cat Oscar, my trusty travel companion.  I was alone at the counter one December night, working the closing shift and day dreaming about the holidays when Nicholas and his entourage came in for drinks before the midnight showing of Lord of the Rings.  His friend Leanne (and ironically former girlfriend) walked up first, got comfortable at the counter and immediately began playing 20 questions, essentially vetting me for Nicholas.  He soon followed, tall dark and handsome, ordered his Mint Bon-Bon Latte, and smoothly offered to “show me around” since Leanne told him I was new in town.  I remember giggling excessively and chiding myself for being nervous and acting childish.  I had met my share of crazies in the café, and was used to giving fake numbers and praying they wouldn’t come back in.  This time was different, of course, as I gave out my actual phone number to a complete stranger who I secretly hoped would call.

He did call–soon.  I told him I would be out of town for a few weeks for the holidays and we’d talk when I got home; as excited as I was, I couldn’t quite see past my reprieve at home, and it was too soon to even mention his name.  I drove 12 hours home with Oscar in tow, and I remember amidst the excessive food and strewn wrapping paper my family’s constant teasing about not dating anyone. I distinctly remember shutting down their comments by recounting my busy work schedule and specifically telling my sister in law Bonnie that I never planned to get married anyway…

The second week of January I drove back to Atlanta, Nicholas and I had our first date, and 3 weeks later I had a diamond ring on my finger.  Our three weeks of dating was fast and furious and my family and most of my friends didn’t even know I was dating someone…but that’s another story. There’s so much to tell.

07.18.13
by

Brebis Chicken and Hot Pepper Jelly

IMG_2364[1]

Herbed Brebis goes in the center of the chicken.

Herbed Brebis goes in the center of the chicken.

Hot pepper jelly

Hot pepper jelly

Ready to top with jelly!

Ready to top with jelly!

While I grew up in the kitchen and knew the basic cooking rules, I haven’t always enjoyed being in the kitchen and sort of battled the whole domestic idea. The first time I cooked for Nicholas, I made an Alfredo sauce from a packet, and I’m quite positive it was the worst meal he ever had–well, my over-cooked pork chop casserole was pretty bad, too. I learned and embraced canning and baking from my mom, but cooking came much harder for me. I can’t follow a recipe to save my life and I’m infamous for substituting more than half the recipe because I didn’t plan ahead and don’t want to take off my apron and go to the store. The point is, learning to cook well, and master more than my basic five recipes has been quite a journey–a ten year journey, that is, as I think my culinary side was really inspired when I met Nicholas, and his family. The best part about being in the kitchen is having someone to share in the tastes, fun, and catastrophes along the way, and while the end result is, of course, a great meal, cooking is a lot like life; it’s not always about the end result but the journey and the lessons along the way that make the end even possible. Nicholas and I cook together every chance we get, and it’s an integral part of our relationship and down time together. The only rule is that the kitchen has to be clean before we start, as Nicholas claims he needs a “clean slate” in order to begin a masterpiece. Beyond that, we throw caution to the wind and stir up lots of great dinners, often without following a recipe. We may get an idea from a recipe or picture in a magazine, but it’s much more fun to add what we think will taste best, and then sample and add a little of this and a little of that until we have a finished meal. Our chicken a few nights ago is a perfect example. We shopped at Grant Park farmer’s market and bought Brebis cheese, a really creamy sheep’s milk cheese https://www.facebook.com/manyfoldfarm. We heard someone mention using the cheese inside chicken, and we recalled a recipe we made a few years ago with chicken, goat cheese, and dates. We copied the idea and created a pan seared chicken filled with fresh herbed Brebis cheese, wrapped in pancetta and topped with homemade hot pepper jelly. Here’s the basic idea:

Ingredients:
2 Chicken breasts
3-4 pieces of pancetta
fresh herbs, minced (we used basil and rosemary)
Brebis cheese (or similar soft chevre-type cheese)
skewers
hot pepper jelly (recipe below)

Hot Pepper Jelly
You can make jam with almost any vegetable or fruit. Just puree the produce you want to use, and combine equal parts puree and sugar in a large pan on the stove. Bring to a soft boil, and boil for about 20 minutes, stirring frequently.
In this case, I took about 10 sweet peppers (the small colorful ones from Costco) a couple of sweet peppers from the farmers market, and one jalapeno. I pureed all of them together (including the seeds, just cut off the stem). At this point, I had about two cups of puree, so I added two cups of sugar, stirred together and boiled for 20 minutes. I then let it sit on the stove while I made the chicken; by the time my chicken was done, it was thick enough to use for a topping.

Side note–use the left over pepper jelly to top cream cheese and spread on crackers for a snack or appetizer.

Chicken directions:

Pound (with a mallet) or filet two chicken breasts so that they are thin enough to fill and roll. Marinate in olive oil and Italian seasoning. Add fresh herbs to 3-4 oz. Brebis cheese, and spread thinly in the center of the chicken. Loosely roll the chicken and add a slice of pancetta to the outside. Crisscross skewers through the chicken and pan sear until browned on each side. Put your chicken in a glass pan and bake (covered) for 10-15 minutes. Top with pepper jelly and serve. 🙂

07.15.13
by

East Atlanta, Pink Detergent, and Scott Antique Market

Pink pomegranate DIY detergent.

Pink pomegranate DIY detergent.

East Atlanta Foodie tour begins...

East Atlanta Foodie tour begins…

IMG_2322[1]IMG_2321[1]IMG_2318[1]
East Atlanta Farmer's Market--just down the street!

East Atlanta Farmer’s Market–just down the street!

Dinner at Harper Station.

Dinner at Harper Station.

My favorite piece from Scott Antique Market--it will hold cook books and wine glasses!

My favorite piece from Scott Antique Market–it will hold cook books and wine glasses!

The thing about blogging is that even though I have no idea if anyone is reading, I feel this need to write often and feel as if life is slipping by too quickly when I fail to complete even a short post. Last week I had something I wanted to write about almost every day, and not doing so made me feel like I missed a week of vitamins and need to start tripling up on my calcium and fish oil. At any rate, here’s a week-in-review.

I made really fabulous laundry detergent the other day, trial washed a few loads and then decided I should make more. I got my recipe from http://www.diynatural.com/homemade-laundry-detergent-soap/ and love it because it is a perfect starter recipe. You only need three ingredients: a bar of your favorite soap, Arm and Hammer washing soda, and Borax. Everything is in the laundry aisle at your local grocery store, so it’s super easy to get what you need and get started. I grated a bar of Dove Pomegranate soap, and stirred in one cup of Borax and one cup of washing soda. That’s it! The only tedious part is grating the soap, but I’m going to try the food processor next time. The beautiful thing is that it smells great, cleans well, takes only one tablespoon per load and translates to about .03 cents a load. In the future, I might try to get fancier with a granule mixture that includes fabric softener beads, but for now? Success.

The majority of my week was spent in brain-melting academic sessions at the Atlanta International School, which was the site of my training in order to teach courses in the International Bachelorette program this fall. After full days of “let’s look at the interstices there that creates the enjambment” and trying to figure out acronyms that everyone else seems to know: the IO, the IOC, and the IOP, I literally felt like there was smoke coming out my ears. The remedy? A tour of East Atlanta’s downtown, about a mile from our townhouse. Nicholas and I spent an afternoon taking a foodie’s tour–we started at Tomatillos for a light queso snack and margarita on the patio before sampling Dollie’s ice cream and East Atlanta’s pizza. We walked the streets, admired the graffiti and read the local circular. We planned on one more stop–to Glenwood Neighborhood Pub, who supposedly serves Reuben egg rolls, but they were filming a movie and wouldn’t let us in. Leisurely kicking around the streets was a perfect way to regain perspective and appreciate our new space and community. We ended the day with a visit to the East Atlanta Farmer’s Market, which has similar venders as the one in Grant Park, but had cheaper produce and a more neighborly feel. I loved the sense of belonging in pointing and saying, “We just live down the street. We’ll be here every week.”

Friday night, we walked a portion of the Atlanta beltline for the first time; we were in route to dinner at Harper’s Station, a restaurant on my growing bucket list. Friends of ours just live down the street, and we met at their house, and followed the unpaved railroad tracks to the restaurant. The city is about to continue the paving of the beltline which is going to be really cool in the fall to walk and bike to restaurants and shopping. We sat outside and enjoyed a breezy evening of hilarious stories, great food and dear friends. I haven’t felt like I really fit in anywhere in a while, and it’s amazing and yet humbling to feel this sense of belonging–like coming home even when it’s someone else’s place.

In my quest to continue furnishing and decorating the house on a budget, I went to Scott Antique Market, which takes over an airplane hanger and the surrounding properties once a month in order to display a little junk, some shabby and lots of shabby chic. It really was an incredible experience, and because I couldn’t take in enough in yesterday’s three hours, I went back again this morning in order to bring home another round of gems. I spent the better part of this afternoon refinishing furniture instead of annotating Shakespeare’s Sonnets for a planning session tomorrow.

It was a great week, and I anticipate an even better one–in spite of a lengthy reading list to accomplish for school, the menu board is sporting some new ideas, I have a peach and strawberry “jam” session with a friend, plan to stir up my grandmother’s cinnamon bread, have a girl’s day out with two old friends and leave for Savannah for a belated birthday weekend. Somewhere in there, I’ll be sharing some of Poppi’s Italian recipes, starting with the famous marinara–I can’t wait to share a piece of our kitchen with you!