This year I am once again thankful for my loving husband and my four legged fam! I really love coming home to all five of these wonderful beings! I am also thankful for us surviving a full year as a one car household; it is so much easier than we thought, but it certainly makes me thankful for safe (ignoring the speeding cars and scant sidewalks and lighting) streets and working so close to home. No matter how much I want to smack her father, my niece is such a wonder.
We are blessed to have the freedom to travel, and I am looking so forward to strapping into my skis. Speaking of skis, I’m posting a honeymoon picture (ah 2007 started soooo well!)
My first SmittenKitchen baking attempt was a disaster; I thought Irish Car Bomb Cupcakes would be perfect for St Patrick’s Day, considering my love of Jameson, Bailey’s, and stout beer, but my attempt ended up severely stuck the silicone (i.e. notoriously non stick) cups. However, I was determined to enjoy some of the delicious cakes I’ve seen since I started reading her site. My second recipe was chosen by my husband for his birthday in August (although I ended up making the cake a few weeks later). Thankfully he chose a single layer affair without any fancy decorations. The results were delightful and sentimental (it tasted so much like a torte from the old, but now defunct, Old Europe that I used to eat on our early dates). This cake was easy, but it tasted like a professional effort. It is definitely one of my favorite cakes for both its appearance and taste.
For our third legal anniversary, we pondered and agonized over several delectable cakes, and we ended up with the Chocolate Peanut Butter Cake. The original recipe is for a three layer cake, but I only have two round pans so I made two layers and some cupcakes. Although I tried to eyeball it, the batter distribution between the pans wasn’t equal which resulted in one layer being much thicker than the other. I did not overfill the cupcake tins, but the silicone cups were not again not as non stick as I thought they should be when I purchased them. I also tweaked the recipe a bit: unsweetened not too smooth peanut butter (in lieu of smooth commercial peanut butter) and an entire cup less of confectioner’s sugar for the frosting (next time I will probably knock it back an additional cup). Deb at SmittenKitchen provides a page of layer cake tips as well as advice with each recipe that have really helped me make better looking cakes.
After our amble around Nob Hill, North Beach, and Chinatown, we returned and got ready to bake in our finery. Fortunately, the dress code was casual with the bride and bridesmaids in embellished daisy flip flops and the groom and groomsmen in Chacos. Even so, it was hot. We have lost the record for having the hottest wedding ceremony ever (Key West in October at 10am, and everyone was pouring sweat). Hot is hot is hot, and I hate sweating in dry heat just as much as I hate sweating in Georgia. We had a ten minute stroll to the Powell St BART then a forty minute train ride (the fare is less than five dollars!) out to Pleasant Hill then a fifteen minute shuttle to the ceremony, which provided ample opportunity to get mussed up.
I know it sounds cliched, but the ceremony was just beautiful. They were married under this fantastical oak tree on top of a hill with views of the surrounding valley. Her parents’ home was full of light, and the ground were littered with little touches (like the sunflowers in the bowling balls and the flower fountain).
While I expected my favorite part of the ceremony to be the reading of “Invitation” by Shel Silverstein by a friend of the bride’s son accompanied by an interpretive dance by a friend of the groom’s daughter, I was really touched by the bride’s sister-in-law’s reading (“The Invitation” Oriah Mountain Dreamer).
As to my concerns about the wedding fare, they were washed away with the first hors d’oeuvre I popped into my mouth (Checkers Catering handled it). I saw three trays circulating; one of shrimp on a wonton chip (I don’t do shrimp so I didn’t try this one), a stuffed mushroom, and a caprese slider. The sliders surpassed the others, with cherry tomatoes so ripe and sweet and tangy coupled with creamy fresh mozzarella and a basil leaf; the serving trays had a balsamic vinaigrette in them so each slider came dressed. The main buffet started with a fresh spring mix salad then a mashed potato bar followed meat and poultry stations with rolls (I didn’t find the portabello mushrooms and when I was directed to their location I had missed them); of course, there was plenty of beer (two from New Belgium Brewery and Miller Lite with a Sierra Nevada keg making a late night entrance) but with the heat the white wine was hit hard and early. The cake was nice and moist, and its frosting was not overly sweet.
Between the heat, sweat, the morning wander with another full day planned, and an hour trip back to the city, we were ready to head back around nine. I begged to wait to see them off, but the taxi had already been called. If only we had known that we would pass the limo on the way down the driveway we probably could’ve held out to send them on their mini moon. Like we did, they will be taking their real honeymoon after the wedding dust (and excitement and stress) has settled.
We used a taxi five times during our week long stay with two trips being to and from the ceremony. The forty minute train ride cost $4.90 one way, and it runs every twenty minutes from around 4a to after midnight five days a week (Saturday it starts around six am, and Sunday it starts around eight). Public transit done well rocks!
We both mentioned packing the camera at separate times, but somehow it failed to get packed. Maybe next time. Last weekend it rained every day, and it wasn’t soft sprinkling rain. Needless to say everything was wet and muddy caked in mud after three days of being exposed to those conditions. However, the rain did little to dampen our spirits. Whoo-hoo to the French Broad River Festival! Town Mountain was smokin’, and Jen and the Juice were fun (surprised to see Debrissa from Laura Reed). One of my biggest regrets is leaving The Trainwreks at the end of their set to see Acoustic Syndicate; Acoustic was too mellow, but The Trainwreks were hot and fun (plus the Flood Stage had one of those funky tents that I last saw at TriNum). Brushfire Stankgrass started our Saturday right, and I also enjoyed Rosie Ledet and the Zydeco Playboys. I had never heard Reverend Horton Heat, and I had plenty of fun, albeit in the rain, grooving (and balancing beer and umbrella) to them. However, I think Larry Keel and Natural Bridge were my weekend favorites. Larry was having a good time on stage, and the energy was just right. The worst part of the festival was missing the Unifire Theatre; due the rain, their set was moved from the end of the night to some other time that we didn’t hear about. I love fire; watching fire, especially after a good bit of alcohol, is one of my favorite things, and when the fire isn’t isolated to the fire pit and is dancing around on hula hoops and the ends of swinging chains I become entranced.
Not only is the Hot Springs Campground lovely and beside the river, the hot tubs are right across the street. I wasn’t as energetic as I normally would have been watching Brushfire Stankgrass or Jen and the Juice as they were post soak. My honey booked a tub early Saturday afternoon, and he took the advice of those in the know and picked the best tub available. It had a wooden deck with plenty of room and two chairs and a table as well as a fan and a heat lamp. However, the best part is the infinity pool effect you get when sitting in the tub; this is compound by the fact that the water is on both sides of the tub. While you are close enough to hear loud engines climbing a hill, one can easily drown those noises with the singing of the river. If you have never been to Hot Springs, you will be shocked at the velvety softness the waters impart on your skin.
We are starting it out with The French Broad River Festival. I was digging the line up, then my honey said it was only sixty dollars for the early bird tickets! I love the campground up there, and we are definitely planning to hit the hot tubs. Another plus is Bearly Edible; I can’t wait to wolf down some pesto mozzadilla and $1 grilled cheese.
A few weekends prior, we will warm up with Asheville’s Earth Day celebration. Its free and could involve no driving if the bus service has extended hours, and Karl Denson’s Tiny Universe and Laura Reed & Deep Pocket will be there, for free!
With the weather roller-coaster, I decided to make miso soup to help us stave off colds. Miso soup is my chicken noodle as I hate chicken and the memories of overcooked, bloated noodles that haunted the stuff from the cans. Not only is miso tasty, cheap (16 oz tub for about seven dollars at the Co-op, but for about eight cups of soup I only used two tablespoons), and super healthy but it works wonders by turning a few veggies and some watery stock into a simply satisfying entree way beyond soup. Unlike other soups, miso is so flavorful that you really only need to warm the stock rather than cook it down. For an accompaniment (and just be sure that I could eat left over soup for the next few days) I also cooked up some brown rice then sauteed some garlic and kale in sesame oil and garnished it with sesame seeds and peanuts.
Miso Soup
Press and drain one half pound of firm or extra firm tofu, then dice or you can crumble it
Peel and chop one medium onion in a medium to fine dice
Peel and dice three to five cloves of garlic
Peel and cut one medium to large carrot into thin discs or half moons
Cut three pieces of kombu (assuming pieces are 1-2 x 5-8 inches); I have also used a few sheets of wakame cut into one inch squares
Heat a tablespoon or twoof sesame oil over medium-high heat
Add the onions and tofu (be careful of the oil splatter from the wet tofu) and cook until tofu has browned a bit
Add the garlic, carrots, and kombu then pour three cups of veggie stock plus one cup of water into the pan
Bring the stock to a boil and then reduce to a simmer for five to ten minutes or just enough to heat the liquid and soften the kombu (if using the wakame don’t add it until after the stock has boiled)
While the stock is heating, thin two tablespoons of miso paste (I usually use red or chickpea) with water to give it the consistency of creamy salad dressing
Remove the stock from the heat and temper the miso paste with some of the soup; the soup should not be too hot as you will kill the probiotics and reduce miso’s health benefits
Once the soup is serving temperature, combine the miso liquid and the soup then serve
This stores fine in the refrigerator, but I have never been able to keep it for more than a few days. When reheating be sure not to boil the soup.
miso soup
Monday was on the other end of the temperature scale when my husband made his meal plan and did his shopping so he grabbed arugula, a pear, walnuts (which also went into the pesto), and yummy, stinky bleu cheese. I think the red onion got lost, but he reduced some balsamic vinegar which I whipped into a nice, sweet dressing with olive oil. Not being a fan of the walnuts, I supplemented the crunchiness factor with sunflower seeds. It was a classic bistro salad, and topped off with some coarsely ground pepper I wanted to germinate some arugula seeds and get them into some dirt. Although this arugula was fine, it pales in comparison to the spicy yet freshly sweet stuff we harvested from last year’s victory garden before the rising temperature cooked the bitterness into it. The pear was wonderfully ripe and sweet with that beloved grainy texture; with it being so out of season I can’t tell if my taste buds were being nostalgic. Of course my favorite was the cheese; it had the creaminess of gorgonzola with the tangier bite of danish blue.
In the tradition of Thanksgiving, I want to put it out there.
I love my husband and the almost ten years that we have been together. We met young, and we have evolved; I could not be so happy without him. I look forward to the next fifty years together, traveling and having a merry time. He has expanded my tastes in food, and he patiently taught how to ski.
Thanks to my wonderful four legged fam for all the wet noses and furry head-butts.
Jasmine
Millie & Mr
Kayo
My hereditary people fam aren’t too bad either; our wedding was met with such joy, love, and support. and wow, the cake was delicious.
Amaretto Cream Cake
Blessed be, Brother Otis. Although I only embeded the part of the festival that made me fall in love with Otis Redding, I recommend watching all three videos in the series; better yet, you should purchase the entire recorded performance. I have to give credit to VH1 for airing the entire recorded performance sometime in 1999-2000 which turned me on to Brother Otis.
I cannot think what my life would have been like without the music that I sing when I am pissed or happy. I have tried to include a good groove like a good mixed tape to put you in the right mood. This is a somewhat random pick of my favorites, but I cannot claim it is comprehensive in any sense of the word.
We have accomplished six and a half weeks of being a one car household. I am so proud of my honey for bearing most of the sacrifice, although I am jealous of his thinning waistline. A few days ago we even left the car parked in the carport all day long as I rode my much improved bicycle, and he took the bus. Thanks so much to Asheville Recyclery; however, please do not be fooled by their website: they are located behind the French Broad Food Coop at 90 Biltmore Avenue in southern downtown Asheville. Although my dry-rotted nubby mountain bike tires have been replaced by slicks, my saddle is the most uncomfortable piece of plastic in existence, and my gear shift has a mind of its own. I will ameliorate these issues and become a brave bike commuter along the quite dangerous Highway 25A (aka Sweeten Creek Road). Additionally, I will continue to ride the bus on the weekends to get downtown to grocery shop even if I do have difficulty reading the schedule correctly. Due to my idiocy, I was able to walk a few miles from the North Asheville library to Greenlife lugging a backpack full of cognac, brandy, capilene and socks from the Ski Country tent sale, an Andrew Jackson biography, my grocery shopping bags, and a purse with a hand on the fucking cooler (for the groceries that were not to be). I walked all that way (and believe me for someone as sedentary as myself that is one long fucking walk) because I cannot read the bus schedule, so I guess I paid a physical stupid tax today.
The other reason for our celebration (which we will postpone due to us both suffering from nasty early season colds) is our second wedding anniversary. I agree that two years of married bliss doesn’t really deserve a grandiose celebration, but come January it will be ten years we have shared. I met this wonderful man on my birthday, and we shared French toast at IHOP after seeing some punk band at a bar that doesn’t exist because it either went out of business or someone drove their car through it.
I didn’t really think of myself as the marrying type, but I love this man. I really wanted to stand in public and say it; I wanted to profess my undying love in front of our family and friends. It was so wonderful, and I love being married to him. I don’t feel that anything really changed from our cohabitating or living in sin days, but damn, I love calling him my husband.
The only thing that sucks about being married is the constant query of where are the kids? I will leave that for another post.
