tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47566986906361292662024-03-07T12:46:35.925-05:00The Art of HomemakingMama. Homemaker. Crafter. Baker. Go-getter. Idea generator. Business pioneer. Guided by passion. Driven by purpose. hiphomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734176385902438206noreply@blogger.comBlogger667125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-25979707021221572392017-08-28T13:57:00.000-04:002017-08-28T13:57:11.483-04:00Superpowers and the Chocolate Beet Cake<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqkupA8HUrpS9talc92U0LwFRmAUL4WaudinDuyHWtWTmO4QRV0zhcvfCu2cUrmifi1UnsuWCXaGPwtEj12FVAOV3sLMupfovHP9ZfJQMPPRg17EwlVAW97JmjipHISNFDmFa2YDMbjGw/s1600/DSC_5752.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqkupA8HUrpS9talc92U0LwFRmAUL4WaudinDuyHWtWTmO4QRV0zhcvfCu2cUrmifi1UnsuWCXaGPwtEj12FVAOV3sLMupfovHP9ZfJQMPPRg17EwlVAW97JmjipHISNFDmFa2YDMbjGw/s640/DSC_5752.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Otto Smith. Age 7</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
That girl is a delicate flower
<br />
A super hero. <br />
Being a single mom helped
<br />
Develop her superpower. <br />
-Shrone Hurt
<br />
<br />
The Smith Homestead has changed mightily over the past year and a half. Entire rooms of the house were given new purpose -- furniture rearranged to fill gaping holes left…which can also be said for places of my heart and soul that needed a rearranging of priorities and dreams.
<br />
<br />
In the current season of life, its without question that I am to be giving new purpose to some old rooms in the home of my heart. God has nudged me a crazy number of times recently to finally clear out the dust bunnies associated with loss. Loss of love -- no matter if its divorce, death, abandonment, rejection… will literally knock.us.on.our.ass for an undetermined season. It weakens our defenses. It completely annihilates our self-confidence. It causes us to believe lies about our worth and ability to still make impact in the world. It whispers in our ear that we can’t get our hopes up (on anything) because they will surely be dashed again. <br />
<br />
Even if I ignored the nudging right now, He’d send along another one along in no time quick. Because I am meant to overcome this. I am meant to learn and grow and have some goals again. Ahhh…how I’ve missed the dreaming and doing of goals! <br />
<br />
When I read that prose from a uniquely talented friend of mine recently, it resonated so deeply. To the point of goosebumps and pools of tears in my eyes. <br />
<br />
Superpower. <br />
<br />
Had I lost mine? Or set them down like Wonder Woman leaving her Lasso of Truth somewhere and forgetting where she put it? I don’t know really. All I know is his words reminded me that not only had I already possessed so much before the loss of love that is <em>STILL</em> mine, I can also sense within myself a whole other set of powers starting to take shape. Which kind of blows my mind because….well, lets just say…watch out world 😉
<br />
<br />
But I digress…. Lets talk chocolate. <br />
<br />
This recipe is tweaked from my most favorite bedside cookbook – Nigel Slater’s, <em>Tender</em>. His other book, <em>Notes From the Larder</em>, is also like a dream world that I get lost in regularly as well.
If you don’t want to go through the process of roasting beets for this recipe, Trader Joes makes them ready to go (roasted only…no pickling) over where you’d find the hummus and bad-for-you-but-oh-so-good-veggie-dips. I used a darker than dark 100% chocolate, which was a diversion from the original recipe. I also added cocoa nibs for a bit of crunch. It bakes up in a jiffy although just be forewarned, you’re gonna have a pile of dishes to wash afterwards. I actually adore washing dishes after baking so this doesn’t pose an issue for me. If dirty dishes isn’t your thing, forgo this entire recipe and eat a Hershey Bar. No judgments here.<br />
<br />
My littlest 7 year old bear, Otto, is now the resident photographer of all things life-in-progress at the house. I love the vantage points from which he shoots. He’ll steady his hand in time – but for now, the blurriness is a perfect encapsulation of life right now. Hazy but perfect.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not an Otto shot...</td></tr>
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<br />
<strong>Rustic Chocolate Cake with Crème Fraîche and Poppy Seeds</strong>
<br />
Adapted from Nigel Slaters', <em>Tender</em>
<br />
<br />
8oz (250g) peeled & cooked beets
<br />
7oz (200g) fine dark chocolate (I used 100% cocoa solids)
<br />
¼ cup cocoa nibs
<br />
4 tbsp. cold brew coffee or espresso, warm
<br />
¾ cup (200g) butter
<br />
1 cup plus 2 tbsp. (135g) flour
<br />
Heaping tsp. of baking powder
<br />
3 tbsp. cocoa powder
<br />
5 eggs, separated
<br />
1 cup (190g) sugar
<br />
Crème Fraîche and Poppy Seeds, to serve
<br />
<br />
Lightly butter an 8-inch springform pan. You can use any size springform, really. Just watch your bake times. Line the bottom of the pan with parchment paper. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Puree the cooked beets in a blender or food processor. Melt the chocolate in a double boiler. Don’t stir. When the chocolate looks almost melted, pour the hot coffee over it and stir once. Cut the butter into small pieces and stir in until it melts.
Sift together the flour, baking powder, cocoa and nibs.
Stir the egg yolks together.
Now working gently, remove the bowl of chocolate from the heat and let sit for a few minutes. Stir in the egg yolks, mixing quickly so the eggs blend into the chocolate mixture. Fold in the beet puree. Whisk the egg whites until stiff, then fold in the sugar. Firmly but gently, fold the beaten egg whites and sugar into the chocolate mixture. Careful not to over mix. Lastly, fold in the flour mixture.
Transfer to the prepared pan and bake for 40 minutes or until the cake is sponge-like on the edges and wobbly a bit in the middle.
Set cake aside to cool. Serve at room temperature with the crème fraîche and sprinkling of poppy seeds.
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hiphomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734176385902438206noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-60798634610279566892015-11-27T09:13:00.001-05:002017-07-31T13:14:34.355-04:00For You, Sweets { Baked Goods That Benefit} <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
Please consider joining with me to put gifts under the tree of two families this season.<br />
In return, you'll be getting a downloadable cookbooklet of Art of Homemaking recipes.<br />
<strike>Click the<b> link</b> or the picture, watch the video, and donate what you can.</strike><br />
<br /></div>
<img alt="Signature" height="88" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpmAESmxAg8MxyiDOnyQFLqiedJ1kC3M27VEeNUw8a-fPU8N0IYKeP8a2Vf9d43IBeldke-rjiDmp1bptOD_7RBTuNQevv3w-wlh9hLYgRFoPPAzKCjpnHExGP6Ls0hbr1H683wXOd5o/s200/Megan-Signature2.png" title="Megan" width="200" />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-13983934406213028962015-10-15T11:17:00.002-04:002022-03-18T16:13:36.452-04:00The Best Ohio Sugar Cookie; Hello Cheryl's Cookies Copycat Recipe<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<h3 style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #e06666;"><b>Find all new recipes on Instagram at <a href="https://www.instagram.com/nostalgicallymegan/" target="_blank">@nostalgicallymegan</a></b></span> 💗</h3><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
I grew up in Columbus, Ohio and when I was young, it was a treat to get a Cheryl's Cookie. A couple of decades ago (ahem), walking into a Cheryl's storefront was pretty much like walking into Santa's workshop. The smell was better than any Yankee Candle you'll ever put your nose to. And the long, glass case housed the richest, buttery sugar cookies imaginable. I've been to bakeries from NYC to Paris and have never tasted anything that comes close.<br />
Cheryl sold her company a few years back for alotta moolah. I interviewed her for <a href="http://www.cakenwhiskey.com/" target="_blank">the magazine </a>once...she's a dynamo businesswoman. Goddess status, in my book. The company has grown a ton after the sale, but its all different now. No storefronts with bakers smearing thick layers of frosting on cooled sugary disks. Everything now is pre-packaged. Which, for this nostalgic girl, is rather heartbreaking.<br />
<br />
Recently I bought our first cookie jar. I have no clue why it took over 15 years, but it did. And because there is now a cookie jar, there is also now a weekly cookie at The Smith Homestead.<br />
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<br />
This week is my attempt at a traditional Cheryl's sugar cookie. Simple ingredients and method, with stellar results. Make this recipe your own! Its so flipping versatile. Add nuts or zest. Peppermint oil or rose water. Shove the dough in your cookie press and make fancy designs. Get the kids involved. Give them as gifts in a couple of months. You get the idea.<br />
<br />
As for me, I'll be keeping it simple and channeling some of those memories of childhood. And getting a massive sugar fix.<br />
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
Cheryl's Cookies Copycat Recipe</h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>For the cookie:</i></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>1 cup <span color="windowtext" style="text-decoration: none;">butter</span>, softened</li>
<li><sup><span style="letter-spacing: 0.75pt;">3</span></sup>⁄<sub>4 </sub>cup <span color="windowtext" style="text-decoration: none;">sugar</span></li>
<li>1 <span color="windowtext" style="text-decoration: none;">egg</span></li>
<li><sup><span style="letter-spacing: 0.75pt;">1</span></sup>⁄<sub>2 </sub>teaspoon <span color="windowtext" style="text-decoration: none;">vanilla extract</span></li>
<li>2 <sup><span style="letter-spacing: 0.75pt;">1</span></sup>⁄<sub>2 </sub>cups <span color="windowtext" style="text-decoration: none;">all-purpose flour</span></li>
<li>1 teaspoon <span color="windowtext" style="text-decoration: none;">baking powder</span></li>
<li><sup><span style="letter-spacing: 0.75pt;">1</span></sup>⁄<sub>4 </sub>teaspoon <span color="windowtext" style="text-decoration: none;">salt</span></li>
</ul>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In mixing bowl, cream together the softened butter and
sugar. Add egg, vanilla; mix well. Combine flour, baking powder and salt; add
to creamed mixture and mix well.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Form cookies by measuring ¼ cup of batter into the palm of
your hand. Shape into a round disk that is approx. ½ inch thick. Place onto
ungreased cookie sheets. Alternatively, you can roll out the dough and use a
cookie cutter. Bake at 375 degrees for
6-8 minutes or until set, <u>not brown</u>. Do not over bake! Cool on wire
racks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>For the frosting:</i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="background-color: white;">1 cup powdered sugar</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;">2T butter</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;">1/2 teaspoon vanilla or other flavoring extract</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;">2 1/2 – 3 tablespoons milk or water</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;">Food coloring, optional</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Beat together softened butter, vanilla. Slowly add 2 cups
powdered sugar, ½ cup at a time. Beat until smooth and fluffy. Add milk and
beat until smooth. At this point you could add food coloring. I prefer not to….but
across the board I have a pretty strong affinity for neutral colors. Baked
goods included. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<img alt="Signature" height="88" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpmAESmxAg8MxyiDOnyQFLqiedJ1kC3M27VEeNUw8a-fPU8N0IYKeP8a2Vf9d43IBeldke-rjiDmp1bptOD_7RBTuNQevv3w-wlh9hLYgRFoPPAzKCjpnHExGP6Ls0hbr1H683wXOd5o/s200/Megan-Signature2.png" title="Megan" width="200" />
</div>
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<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><br /></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-55354811055050891992015-09-15T11:10:00.001-04:002017-07-31T13:16:16.994-04:00Apfelstrudel - Traditional Apple Strudel (with photo tutorial) <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><b><i>Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels…</i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I’ve never given much consideration to cream
colored ponies. But strudels are a different story. Especially after spending
time in the narrow brick lined corridors that make up Vienna’s city center.</span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Strudel is everywhere in that part of the
world. From Hungary to Slovakia and Germany, this pulled-dough pastry can be
found, filled with everything from apples to curded cheese, poppy seeds and
cherries. I came home from that trip (happily) five pounds heavier and ready to
govern a strudel super-pack. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">This weekend, the weather changed. And my heart
leaped like it has since I was a little girl. Because autumn, as it is for many
of us, is my favorite season. It is, perhaps, what deep down I hope heaven will
be like; knitted scarves, the babbled tones of game-day football commentators
coming from the TV in the next room over, copious amounts of apple cider in
pottery mugs, apple picking, bowls of chili, picnics on quilts (I argue that
picnics are meant for fall, not summer), boots caked in mud and leaves after a
strenuous hike, and…of course…baking. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">There are more than a few strudel tutorials
floating around cyberspace and sitting on library bookshelves. I did my
research, jotted notes from Google translated websites, and landed on the
recipe below. A blend of three strudel variations that seemed to need some
overlapping on each other.</span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Don’t be intimidated by what you are about to
see. It’s harmless. Enjoyable, in fact. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">It’s definitely doable by your lonesome, but
it’s more fun with someone else. I happen to have a dashing 12 year old chef as
a son…lucky me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Apfelstrudel (Traditional Apple Strudel) </span></h3>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"></span></div>
<h4 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-weight: normal;">Dough:</span></h4>
<h4 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">15
ounces (3 cups) all-purpose flour (I used King Arthur Flour for this recipe)</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">
pinch of salt</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">
2 eggs, room temperature</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">
1 tablespoon vegetable oil</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">
6 ounces (3/4 cup) milk, room temperature</span></h4>
<div>
<h4>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">1 stick melted butter</span></h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-weight: normal;">Apple Filling:</span></h4>
<h4>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">
2 lb apples (I used Gala)<br />
1/2 cup sugar<br />
1/4 cup fine bread crumbs (I made my own from a few slices of rustic loaf
bread)<br />
1 Tbsp cinnamon<br />
raisins, dried fruit, optional, to taste<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</h4>
<h4 style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 107%;">1. Melt the butter in over
low heat until melted through</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 17.12px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-weight: normal;">2. For the pulling of the dough, you need a large table. Spread a
clean tablecloth over the table or kitchen island. Flour the cloth (lightly) and
turn the dough from the bowl in which it was resting, out onto the
center. With a floured rolling pin roll it out long and narrow, as much
as possible. This should be easy to do and the dough should be soft and supple.
Brush the dough evenly with melted butter</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">3. N</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">ow it is time to begin stretching and pulling the dough. Lift and
stretch the dough to about double its size. This takes time. No need to rush it
– try treating it as an active meditation time.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">4. The dough should be thin enough to read a page through. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"></span></span></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">5. Lift and stretch the dough (including the middle) until it hangs
over all the sides. When finished stretching, remove the thickened edge by rolling it
on a hand as it is torn off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">6. Brush the dough evenly with melted butter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">7. On one end of the long edge (about 6-10 inches from the edge),
sprinkle with the bread crumbs, then mix the sugar, apples, raisins (if using) and
cinnamon in a bowl and pile it, as shown, on your stretched dough.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;">8. Fold the dough over by
lifting the cloth and quickly flipping the dough over onto itself. Roll
up the dough by grabbing the cloth on both ends of the filled side and
lifting it so that the strudel rolls gently. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span id="goog_402019305"></span><span id="goog_402019306"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;">9. Lift the roll in an S shape
into a buttered pan (I buttered parchment paper). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;">10. Brush the strudel with
melted butter. Bake in a pre-heated 400F oven for about 10 minutes, then lower
temperature to 350F. Bake until light brown for approximately another 25-35
minutes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">10. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;">Let the strudel cool a bit
before cutting it into pieces. Best served when still warm from the oven. Can
be frozen and reheated.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">11. Gift to friends </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<img alt="Signature" height="88" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpmAESmxAg8MxyiDOnyQFLqiedJ1kC3M27VEeNUw8a-fPU8N0IYKeP8a2Vf9d43IBeldke-rjiDmp1bptOD_7RBTuNQevv3w-wlh9hLYgRFoPPAzKCjpnHExGP6Ls0hbr1H683wXOd5o/s200/Megan-Signature2.png" title="Megan" width="200" />
<br />
<b>*For full recipe, without photos, for printing continue on here*</b><br />
<b></b><br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Apfelstrudel - Art of Homemaking (homemaking101.com)</span></h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Dough<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">15
ounces (3 cups) all-purpose flour (I used King Arthur Flour for this recipe)<br />
pinch of salt<br />
2 eggs, room temperature<br />
1 tablespoon vegetable oil<br />
6 ounces (3/4 cup) milk, room temperature<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">*You can
make this dough by hand (my preference), or in a stand mixer. I opted for a stand
mixer this time around, only because it was a time saver and I needed to get
out the door…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">In the
bowl of a mixer fitted with the paddle, combine the flour and salt. In a medium
bowl, whisk together the eggs and oil. Add the milk. Turn the mixer on low and
pour the liquid mixture into the bowl. Keep it going until a shaggy dough comes
together, then switch to the dough hook and knead for about two minutes until a
smooth and elastic dough is formed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Turn off
the machine, and turn the dough out onto a (very) lightly floured surface.
Knead by hand for another 5 minutes, until the dough is very smooth. Rest the
dough, covered in a bowl, at room temperature for at least three hours and up
to an overnight. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<em>Filling</em><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="border: 1pt none; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; padding: 0in;"> </span></i></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">(for 1 strudel)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">1 stick melted butter<br />
2 lb apples (I used Gala)<br />
1/2 cup sugar<br />
1/4 cup fine bread crumbs (I made my own from a few slices of rustic loaf
bread)<br />
1 Tbsp cinnamon<br />
raisins, dried fruit, optional, to taste<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Melt the butter in over low heat until melted through.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">For the pulling of the dough, you need a large table. Spread a
clean tablecloth over the table or kitchen island. Flour the cloth (lightly) and
turn the dough from the bowl in which it was resting, out onto the
center. With a floured rolling pin roll it out long and narrow, as much
as possible. This should be easy to do and the dough should be soft and supple. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Brush the dough evenly with melted butter. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Now it is time to begin stretching and pulling the dough. Lift and
stretch the dough to about double its size. This takes time. No need to rush it
– try treating it as an active meditation time.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">The dough should be thin enough to read a page through. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Lift and stretch the dough (including the middle) until it hangs
over all the sides. When finished stretching, remove the thickened edge by rolling it
on a hand as it is torn off.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Brush the dough evenly with melted butter.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">On one end of the long edge (about 6-10 inches from the edge),
sprinkle with the bread crumbs, then mix the sugar, apples, raisins (if using) and
cinnamon in a bowl and pile it, as shown, on your stretched dough.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Fold the dough over by lifting the cloth and quickly flipping
the dough over onto itself. Roll up the dough by grabbing the cloth on
both ends of the filled side and lifting it so that the strudel rolls
gently.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Lift the roll in an S shape into a buttered pan (I
buttered parchment paper). Brush the strudel with melted butter. Bake in a
pre-heated 400F oven for about 10 minutes, then lower temperature to 350F. Bake
until light brown for approximately another 25-35 minutes.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Let the strudel cool a bit before cutting it into pieces. Best
served when still warm from the oven. Can be frozen and reheated.</span></li>
</ol>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">One strudel serves 8-10.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-39975093652410806702015-09-02T18:27:00.002-04:002017-07-31T13:16:32.664-04:00Plum Crumble with Vanilla Coconut 'Cream" (Dairy, Refined Sugar and Flour Free)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
I have a sweet tooth. It's a manageable one (most days). Usually just a nibble of something sugary at the tail end of a meal is good enough, with no need for secret candy drawers in the studio or late night ice cream binges (although I have considered taking up that practice).<br />
<br />
At any rate, I think dessert is a treat we should enjoy regularly. Daily, in fact.<br />
<br />
And there went any future I may have had as a nutritionist....<br />
<br />
I bought a big heaping pile of plums not too long ago. Some were put in lunch boxes (not sure if they were eaten by the three little bears...I prefer they just not tell me as I also believe ignorance is bliss.) Some were quartered and put on the charcuterie board Mike and I like to construct a couple of times a week (pre-dinner snacks aren't just for kids) and the rest were sitting in a bowl on the butcher block counter - gathering a small contingent of fruit flies.<br />
<br />
With a mid-day break at the studio, the usual itch to bake and a fruit fly issue beginning to unfold (there were only like 2 of them...my tolerance is low), I crafted this little diddy. Its actually healthy, which wasn't necessarily my goal. But its so, so, so doable to make healthy desserts that actually taste spectacular, that I find myself doing it without intention.<br />
<br />
A word of caution... there may be ingredients listed here that you don't already have. And it may deter you and you will think I'm daft for asking you to consider buying these things for a plum crumble. But before you discount it, let me say that if you don't already have these ingredients, you should consider having them. They are pantry staples for both savory and sweet good-for-you cooking. Most (all) of this should be easy to find. I'll put in notation where I bought stuff and hopefully you have one close. xo<br />
<br />
Also another note: This recipe is for a small batch. You can up the quantities for a larger portion. You also don't have to use the ramekins I'm using (pictured). This recipe, as are most of the recipes I develop, are super flexible. I prefer to give common sense instructions that can be manipulated and customized.<br />
<br />
*Coconut sugar retains quite a bit more nutrients than refined sugar. Stuff like iron, zinc, calcium and potassium and has a lower glycemic index than regular sugar. I buy mine at Trader Joes.<br />
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<br />
Plum Crumble with Vanilla Coconut "Cream"<br />
<br />
<b>4-5 small, ripe plums</b><br />
<b>3T coconut sugar</b> <span style="font-size: x-small;">(you could substitute honey, agave, Splenda. You can also add more sweetener if the plums are sour or under ripe. Adjust levels to your taste preferences (I like my fruit desserts a bit tart.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
Cut the plums into bite sized chunks. I like some variation in sizing of mine so I tend to have some larger bits and some smaller ones. Mix with the coconut sugar and set aside.<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<b>1 Cup Old Fashioned Oats</b><br />
<b>1 Cup Almonds</b> <span style="font-size: x-small;">(preferably raw)</span><br />
<b>1/4 Cup Coconut Manna</b> <span style="font-size: x-small;">(essentially coconut butter. Could also substitute with a good quality coconut oil or even olive oil. Coconut Manna can be found at most health food stores or on Amazon.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
Pulse the almonds in a food processor, a blender or go to town with a sharp knife on a cutting board. Get the almonds to a coarse chop and add the oats, continuing to pulse/chop until you get a good looking 'crumb' for the crumble. The coconut manna is a bit like a hard butter. So it needs to be worked in with you fingertips to make a nice crumb topping for your plums. If you don't have/don't want to get coconut manna (butter), then opt for a binder like olive oil. Taste the crumble and see if you might want to add a bit of the coconut sugar to it. I like to sprinkle a bit of salt into mine. Key here is taste, taste, taste. Let your taste buds help you become a chef!<br />
<br />
Divide the plums into small ramekins or any sort of baking dish (ceramic or glass is ideal). Sprinkle the crumb topping over the plums. At this point, you can bake. <i>Or </i>you can wrap your little plum crumble in some saran wrap and store it for a later time. Waiting a few hours gives your plums even more time to soften and sweeten, but obviously, instant gratification is pretty remarkable too.<br />
<br />
Baking time is going to range between 35-45 minutes at a temperature of 375 degrees. Keep an eye on it and if you get to the 45 minutes mark and want to see some more browning and bubbling on your crisp...then keep it going a bit longer.<br />
<br />
Vanilla Coconut "Cream"<br />
<br />
<b>1 Can Coconut Milk</b><br />
<b>1 Vanilla bean pod<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></b><span style="font-size: x-small;">(or 1 T vanilla extract)</span><br />
<b>4 T Coconut Sugar</b><br />
<b>1 T Cornstarch mixed to a slurry in water</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
Simmer the coconut milk in a small saucepan until it begins to simmer. Add the coconut sugar and then the cornstarch slurry and whisk to fully incorporate into the coconut milk. Continue to simmer/gently boil the coconut milk until it thickens. If its not thick enough for your liking as a cream sauce, make another small batch of cornstarch slurry and add, simmer, wait, assess. Once the 'cream' is looking lusciously pourable, turn off the heat and add the vanilla. Taste. Thoughts? More sweet? More vanilla? A hit of salt? Again, this is <i>your</i> dessert - so make your tastebuds sing.<br />
<br />
When the crumble is browned and the cream is thickened, its time to get those two married on a plate. Both components do really well in the fridge and devoured over the course of a few days afterwards.<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">bon appétit!</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-66680436053479277012015-08-24T12:55:00.000-04:002017-07-31T13:17:14.626-04:00And He's Off...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My littlest one started kindergarten last week. He's the one that's almost single-handedly carried Mike and I through some tough stuff over the past three years with his ability to find humor in literally <i>everything</i>. Nothing gets him jazzed more than making us laugh...which isn't hard. This dude is funny.<br />
<br />
So off to kindergarten he went on Friday. I cried more than I thought I would. Wasn't nearly as prepared for the final send-off as I imagined I'd be.<br />
<br />
The day before school started, Otto and I drove some old country roads. He fell asleep in the car on the way and when he woke up, we were in the woods, off to hike and paint. Then there was ice cream and doughnuts before heading back to the Smith Homestead to brag...of course... to the brothers about the adventure.<br />
<br />
The last two pictures are to be credited to Otto Rockand Smith, who takes pictures whenever, wherever he can.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-59559750237600840932015-08-15T07:59:00.001-04:002017-07-31T13:17:42.775-04:00Handpainted Raw Cashew Macarons<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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When I have to be away from home, either work or play, it never fails that I yearn for time in the kitchen. Even though I didn't start cooking until I was married...and didn't start cooking well until after I had children, the kitchen feels more familiar to me than most any other place on Earth.<br />
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So this week, after I had been away for a handful of days, I asked Canaan, "did you miss me while I was gone?". His response was this: "Well I really missed your cooking. And the way you keep everything nice around the house. You're really good at that mommy stuff." I smiled. Partially because that's such a guy response from my nearly teenager. But more than anything, in that moment I felt deeply content with my role in these boys lives. Both the tangible and intangible pieces and parts of bellies fed and the comforts of home.<br />
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But lets talk about macarons. They aren't my most favorite dessert to eat...but they might be one of my favorites to make. The headlines you read about macarons being a tricky beast to tame are true. I've had more than my fair share of flat-as-a-pancake macarons emerge from the oven. Still good enough to eat, but definitely not Parisian worthy.<br />
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A couple of weeks ago, I saw a handpainted macaron and it paralyzed me with some major surges of creative impulse. Despite my love of both art and cooking, I've never had a hankering to sink my teeth into cake decorating or sugar sculptures. But this. This! I could do this...maybe. If I could get my macarons to rise.<br />
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So yesterday, girded with gumption and a bit of time, I dove in.<br />
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I wanted very 'clean' looking macarons. No flecks of brown skin from almonds. And as a major risk taker in life who often will bet everything on an instinct and belief, I passed over the traditional almonds and went for more visually pure, raw cashews.<br />
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The two most time consuming parts of macarons are this: 1. making nut flour 2. giving the macaron batter time to form a crust before baking.<br />
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Otherwise, macarons are easy peasy to make. Don't be intimidated!!! Set aside time to do it right and you'll get it right. Promise.<br />
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Below, the recipe. Please consider buying a kitchen scale. I know you've read that before and passed right over the advice. But its time. A kitchen scale will cost you about $10 at the grocery store and is not a wasted purchase. The more I bake, the more I have relied on accurate measurements of ingredients to get me the result I desire. And what's the point in buying ingredients and putting in the effort to get a substandard result? Incomprehensible!<br />
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The handpainting is totally by choice. It was my therapy after a few tiring days. If you do want to paint your macarons, obviously use food coloring- not art-grade paints. I used a small watercolor brush and only three colors (red, blue and green). They are easy to paint. No real trick to it. But I would suggest you paint it with the macaron on a flat surface, as opposed to holding it between your thumb and index finger. Holding the macaron lends to squeezing the macaron which results in potential cracking. Serious disappointment.<br />
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So without further adieu....Raw Cashew Macarons....<br />
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<b><u>Raw Cashew Macarons </u></b><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "verdana" , "tahoma" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.1599998474121px; line-height: 19.4559993743897px;">adapted from Gloverly Cupcakes </span>Makes 60 – 80<br />
240g ground cashew nuts<br />
400g powdered sugar<br />
200g egg whites<br />
100g granulated sugar<br />
Sift the powdered sugar and ground cashew nuts together into a bowl.<br />
Put the egg whites and granulated sugar into the bowl of a stand mixer with a whisk attachment (or in a bowl and use a hand whisk) and whisk on slow-medium (4 on a KitchenAid) for 3 minutes – it won’t look like much has happened to them. Increase the speed to medium-high (7 on a KitchenAid) for another 3 minutes. Finally, increase the speed one notch (up to 8) for another 4 minutes.<br />
Incorporate the cashew flour/powdered sugar blend into the egg white mixture and stir in by hand – there’s no need to be gentle to start with. After it looks combined, start folding the mixture one stroke at a time.<br />
Put the mixture into a piping bag with a small plain nozzle attached. Pipe small circles of the mixture onto baking sheets covered with a sheet of parchment paper, about 1 inch apart. Leave the macarons to form a film for about 45 mins – 1 hour (essential step!). When you touch them they shouldn’t stick to your finger. Heat the oven to 265 F. Once the oven has reached the right temperature place the macarons in the oven for 15 minutes. Turn them around and bake for another 5 minutes. When they are baked, they should come off the baking sheet cleanly. If they do not, then continue baking in 5 minute increments until they are baked through. <br />
Once done, take them out the oven, and leave to cool for a few minutes before taking them off the baking sheets and leave them to cool completely on a wire rack. While they’re cooling, make a filling of your choice.<br />
Once the macarons are completely cool, you can now paint them. If you opt out of this step, then proceed to filing them. I chose to do a lemon curd for these. But the sky's the limit. Buttercreams are the most traditional and vanilla and chocolate rank highest.</div>
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Bon Appetit! </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-35016122609963266772015-05-27T14:07:00.002-04:002017-08-01T12:53:37.519-04:00Roasted Tomato Tart<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Othniel Rockland, or "Otto" as we call him....or "Toot" as he sometimes misspells it...is growing up. Kindergarten will be here in the fall. His first tooth was lost recently followed almost immediately by a second. Both bottom front teeth which now has this adorable boy speaking words in the most fantastically humorous way.<br />
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All three boys love being in the kitchen with mama. Otto included. He gets bored easily though so quick tasks with prep work already out of the way lend to his finer moments as sous chef.<br />
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Here in Ohio, summer is here. My raised bed gardens are in full swing, cabbage and cauliflower, peppers and basil, kale and tomatoes coming in to their own. Next week the second bed will be planted with peppers and butter lettuces, hot peppers and even more tomato varieties.<br />
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One of my favorite ways to bring summer to the dinner table is with a tart. Tarts make my world go round. I think I first fell in love after discovering Jerome Audureau's cookbook, Once Upon a Tart over a decade ago. Last spring Canaan and I visited the Greenwich Village bakery for....well tarts, of course. They were <i>divine.</i>..but you know what? Tarts from my kitchen taste just as good. And the ones from your kitchen will as well. Because tarts are just that forgiving and rewarding.<br />
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This one was an evolutionary process. A bit of this, a bit of that and (thankfully) the end result was Greenwich Village bakery worthy.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b><b>Otto’s Roasted Tomato Tart</b></span></div>
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Adapted from Once Upon a Tart • Art of Homemaking: homemaking101.com</div>
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<b>Tart Crust</b><br />
2.5C Unbleached AP Flour<br />
3T Cornmeal<br />
1t Salt<br />
12T Cold Unsalted Butter<br />
3T Chilled Vegetable Shortening<br />
<br />
<b>Tart Filling and Topping </b><br />
2T Grainy Dijon Mustard<br />
8oz Gruyere cheese, grated<br />
1/2C Shallots, caramelized<br />
2 T Fresh Basil<br />
2 Eggs<br />
1 slice Rustic White Bread<br />
Several thinly sliced, ripe tomatoes, baked in the oven.<br />
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In a food processor, or by hand, combine flours and salt. Pulse to combine. Add butter and shortening and pulse until mixture resembles moist crumbs; do not overwork dough. Transfer to a bowl and sprinkle with 4 tablespoons ice water. Shape into a ball, adding ice water 1 tablespoon at a time (as many as 6 more may be needed) until dough is just past crumbly and holds together.<br />
<br />
For two tarts, divide dough in half and wrap each in plastic wrap, and press each with palm of your hand into disks. For one tart, wrap in plastic and shape into one large disk. Refrigerate at least 30 minutes before rolling out. (I made several mini tarts instead.)<br />
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Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Roll out dough into two 9-inch disks or one 10-by-16-inch rectangle 1/8-inch thick. Transfer to a baking sheet and crimp edges 1/2-inch high. Refrigerate for 30 minutes. Prick all over with fork. Place parchment paper or foil on top and weigh down with pie weights or dried beans. Bake 10 to 15 minutes. Remove paper or foil and weights from dough, and continue to bake another 5 minutes until dried slightly on top. Remove from oven and set aside to cool; do not turn off oven.<br />
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For topping: Spread mustard thinly over bottom of cooled shell. Sprinkle caramelized onions on top of the mustard. Scatter evenly with cheese. Whisk eggs and pour a thin layer over the cheese. Arrange tomatoes in even, slightly overlapping rows. Sprinkle with basil, season to taste with pepper and top with bread crumbs. Bake until the egg sets and the tart begins to brown and bubble. Approx. 20 minutes. Sprinkle with salt, and serve hot or at room temperature.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-54416867606248664902015-04-24T09:00:00.000-04:002017-08-01T12:54:11.551-04:00Bombay Burgers with Cucumber Raita<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
In that 'uncharacteristically manic' life we're experiencing right now that I referred to in the previous post, we are still eating most meals at home. Which is pretty remarkable given I really just want to order pizza and Chinese on an automatic rotation after being in the studio all day.<br />
<br />
But that gets expensive. And it makes my hips big. And it really wouldn't be good parenting of me to do have sodium intake at those levels. So therefore, I cook. Which, as you know, I love. So its not a hardship, per say. It just takes a bit more planning than it did when I had 10+ hours at home to chunk away at a nightly meal.<br />
<br />
I've been on a total Indian food kick lately. Like major cravings kind of kick. (no, there is no bun in the oven.) But there's something resonating deeply with my tastebuds that's crying out for ginger, curry, tumeric, coriander....<br />
<br />
Last night I took those cravings (relentless, I say) and made Indian infused vegetarian burgers for dinner with a really flavorful cucumber raita. This is really easy-peasy. I made the mixture for the burger the night before while packing the kids next-day lunches and just formed and grilled them on the gas range about 15 minutes before mealtime.<br />
<br />
Be forewarned, they are fork & knife burgers, Way too messy for handling. I used Ezekial 4:9 English Muffins but you could use ordinary hamburger buns, put this bad boy on a bed of napa cabbage or just eat it naked.<br />
<br />
<b>BOMBAY BURGERS WITH YOGURT SAUCE</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
1 C Dried Red Lentils<br />
1 lg. Potato, diced small<br />
1 medium onion, finely chopped<br />
1/4 c. shredded coconut, unsweetened<br />
1 T flour<br />
1 t. curry powder<br />
1 t. ginger<br />
1/2 t salt<br />
1/4 t pepper<br />
2 t, lemon juice<br />
1 C almond meal (or wheat germ)<br />
<br />
Simmer potatoes in boiling water for 10 minutes. Boil in enough water to add the lentils. Add lentils after 10 minutes and simmer until the lentils are soft but not disintegrating.<br />
Drain the potatoes and lentils WELL. Put the potatoes and lentils into a large bowl and mash the very large potatoes, leaving the smaller ones for texture.<br />
Add all other ingredients to the bowl except for the almond meal.<br />
Allow to cool or place in the fridge until ready to form patties (I covered with Saran Wrap and put the bowl in the fridge until the next evening.)<br />
<br />
When ready, form the patties. This recipe should make 4 large sized patties. Put the almond meal in a shallow bowl or pie plate and place the patty in the meal, covering both sides. Place each burger on a well oiled griddle or skillet and cook for approx. 5 minutes on each side over medium heat. You are looking for a nice browning on each side and for the center to be hot.<br />
<br />
Remove and place immediately on the bun. Top with the raita and dig in (with fork and knife, of course.)<br />
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<b>CUCUMBER RAITA</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
1/2 cucumber diced or shredded (your preference)<br />
1 cup plain yogurt (I use 0% Fage)<br />
1 t. fresh ginger, grated<br />
1/2 t. garlic, minced<br />
1 T lemon juice<br />
1/4 t black pepper<br />
1/4 t paprika<br />
1 T parsley<br />
<br />
Mix all in a bowl and let the flavors develop for at least 1 hour in the refrigerator. Mix before topping the burgers.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-32901535574959244532015-04-23T14:15:00.001-04:002017-08-01T12:54:31.504-04:00Stop. And. Breathe. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm not going to lie. Life at the Smith Homestead is uncharacteristically manic right now. Canaan, the eldest, has gone and made mama and papa proud by landing a big role in the community children's theater play. Not an easy feat. And now he is immersed in upwards of 20 hours a week of practice leading up to three weeks of performances.<br />
<br />
So there's that.<br />
<br />
Ezra is on track to become David Beckham (even wearing his cologne...yes, it exists). He's honed in on some pretty fancy footwork for an 8-year-old playing on a 10-year-old league. I never thought I would be a soccer mom. And I can't believe I'm saying this but I seriously L.O.V.E. being a soccer mom. Otto's following suit and has donned the cleats and shin guards for his first season as well.<br />
<br />
The magazine keeps me challenged every single day. And Mr. Handsome is making his own mark right now in his industry. Proud partner I am.<br />
<br />
But even with nightly schedules to keep, remarkably we are really, really.....chill. We've found a workable flow and it feels incredible. There's still nightly dinners around the farm table (albeit a bit more rushed than usual) and there's cuddles on the couch, dance parties, date nights, baking, painting, laughing and goodness at every turn.<br />
<br />
And then there's this.<br />
<br />
Our beloved Othniel Rockland (Otto) has become a bonafide photographer. Yep. That unpredictable third child who just turned 5 in February swiped my Nikon D60 (not the newest thing on the block, but its still worthy of a good shot now and again) and started taking pictures a couple of months ago. I attribute it to a Curious George episode he watched ad nauseam.<br />
At first, I was uneasy about the whole idea. "Otto, go put the camera down. You might bang it and mess up the lens." He put it down, but the next day had it in hand again - I could hear the click of the shutter in the next room.<br />
<br />
I decided to bend on my own knee-jerk rule. I let him take a handful of pictures.<br />
<br />
Over the past few weeks, he'll pick up the camera as he sees it laying on a reachable shelf and he'll start photographing. The pictures run the gamut. And lets just be clear before I start bragging on this little genius, 99.8% of his pictures are waaaaaaaaaaaay blurry. Like unidentifiable objects blurry.<br />
<br />
I finally sat down and emptied off the card. A memory card filled with Otto's pictures. I was blazing through them at lightening speed, stopping every so often to appreciate a good angle, have a laugh at a funny face his brothers amused him with or simply squinting to make out where in the heck he was at the time of that photo shoot.<br />
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<br />
And then I was stopped dead in my tracks at the set here. Mike had told me that Otto was eating breakfast and said aloud, "the light on these flowers is so pretty! I need to take a picture!"<br />
I got a bit choked up seeing these. I don't really know why but I think it goes back to that manic/peaceful thing we're experiencing right now. These images confirm that we still are carving out times for slowness and beauty and creativity. We are teaching our children to appreciate...not just run through life, head down. Usually I might say something like, "its a good reminder to me to do the same..." but you know what? I actually am. And I am totally high fiving myself on that one.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-49052580754099138432015-03-04T12:40:00.002-05:002017-08-01T12:54:50.088-04:00NYC - A food tour with my first born<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I am in New York City often nowadays for CAKE&WHISKEY work. Each time I pack my little rolling suitcase, board the plane and step off two hours later with the skyline of the most bustling city in the US greeting me....I get butterflies of giddiness.<br />
NYC was where I asked to go for my high school graduation gift. I have no idea what my parents got me for graduation, but it definitely wasn't a first trip to NYC. It wasn't until two years ago that I went for the first time and I was struck with some Big Apple fever that has never waned since.<br />
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But, NYC for me has never been a trip I've taken as a tourist. I've never been to the Statue of Liberty, a Broadway show or the Empire State Building. Instead, I see NYC through the back of a taxi, rushing from meeting to meeting and hoping for a break between to grab a bite to eat and respond to emails if there's free internet at the cafe I've ducked into.<br />
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But not too long ago I took Canaan on one of my work trips. And NYC opened up to me in a whole new way. My first born, as you likely know already, is the definition of 'foodie'. He came out of the womb with a whisk and a Le Creuset.<br />
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Our three day trip was monumentally memorable. I did have meetings, but I made time for play. And play we did. Finding little spice shops and eateries, walking to restaurants he had researched ahead of time and asking locals for recommendations. Our bellies stayed full and our feet stayed tired as we canvased most all of NYC on foot and by subway. The last customers for late night cannolis in Little Italy, the warm nutella waffles while walking around Central Park, Jazz at Dizzy's Coca Cola Club, buying him his first Swatch watch in Times Square, horchata at Otto's Tacos and getting utterly lost in Brooklyn......best times ever.<br />
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<img alt="Signature" height="88" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpmAESmxAg8MxyiDOnyQFLqiedJ1kC3M27VEeNUw8a-fPU8N0IYKeP8a2Vf9d43IBeldke-rjiDmp1bptOD_7RBTuNQevv3w-wlh9hLYgRFoPPAzKCjpnHExGP6Ls0hbr1H683wXOd5o/s200/Megan-Signature2.png" title="Megan" width="200" />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-90539630371608479502015-02-19T17:25:00.002-05:002017-08-01T12:55:53.246-04:00Almond Raspberry Frangipane Tart <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I keep a three ring binder of pages sporting short hand scribbles, butter smudges and tomato paste drops. These are my recipes. Recipes I've developed over the years; some by happenstance and others with much forethought. </div>
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Yesterday, as the negative temperature wind whipped powdery snow down the streets of Midwest America and my three boys on yet another snow day played (far too much) Wii, I baked. More importantly, I invented. And it felt spectacular to be at it again.</div>
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Of course, invention in baking isn't all that doable. Nothing new under the sun, right? Unless you are doing molecular gastronomy or something, I suppose. </div>
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I have been super duper addicted to The Great British Bake-Off on TV. And after my trip last year to the coast of England and living in a small town with a bonafide British tea shop...lets just say, I have British baked goods fever. Bad. Real bad. </div>
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This is my take on the British Bakewell tart...with a bit of Frangipane-esque and Pop-Tart-ness in there too. Whatever its origin or name, I'm staking claim to this nutty, fruit-filled little gem. It was intended for dessert. But was consumed by 3pm. I think it actually would make a perfect breakfast. For the record, it is gluten free and low-carb too. </div>
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I have made the almond flour in my Vitamix with raw almonds. I waited 10 years to finally get a Vitamix (those puppies aren't cheap) but my, they are so worth it. At any rate, you can purchase almond meal at most grocery stores in the healthy food section or online. </div>
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I had intended on making homemade jam for this, but time got away and instead I went a Sandra Lee route and did a semi-homemade jam~ which was gorgeous and full of the right flavor and consistency.</div>
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Almond Raspberry Frangipane Tart</div>
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Crust:</div>
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1 1/2 cup Almond meal</div>
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1/4 cup sugar (you could substitute any other granulated sweetener)</div>
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1/4 tsp salt</div>
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2 Tbsp butter, chilled and cut into small pieces</div>
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1 egg white</div>
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Jam:</div>
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1/2 jar store bought (or homemade) all-fruit jam (no sugar)</div>
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1 small package of fresh raspberries</div>
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splash of sweet red wine or water</div>
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Filling:</div>
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3/4 cup almond meal</div>
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1/4 cup softened butter (I used Kerrygold) </div>
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1/4 cup sugar (again, you could substitute other sweetener option)</div>
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1 egg</div>
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1 egg yolk (left over from your crust)</div>
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Topping:</div>
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Honey </div>
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Slivered almonds (optional)</div>
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Instructions</div>
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1. Preheat the oven to 325F. Lightly grease 4 small tart shells or one large 9" one</div>
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2. In a bowl combine almond flour, sugar and salt. Sprinkle the chopped butter into the bowl and use your fingers to break up the chunks and incorporate into the flour until it resembles sand. (Alternatively you could use the food processor for this step.)</div>
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3. Stir in the egg white until the dough comes together. Divide evenly among the tart shells and press into the bottom and up the sides evenly with your fingers.</div>
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4. Place tart pans in the freezer for 15 minutes. </div>
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5. Remove from the freezer and prick the bottom of the shells with a fork. Bake 10 minutes. Remove and let cool 15 minutes on a wire rack. </div>
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6. If the shells have puffed, use the rounded part of a spoon the gently press the tart shell to let air out. </div>
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7. While the tarts bake, simmer jam, berries and liquid in a saucepan until bubbly and the berries have begun breaking down. Remove from the heat and set aside.</div>
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8. In a food processor or bowl, combine the filling ingredients; almond meal, butter, sugar, egg and yolk. Mix or process until smooth and creamy (this will be thick). </div>
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8. Spread a dollop of jam along the bottom of each tart shell. This should be thin, but not sparse. </div>
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9. Top the jam with a thick layer of filling, making sure to not go past the brim of the tart shell but staying just inside. </div>
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10. Sprinkle with additional slivered almonds, if desired.</div>
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11. Bake for 30 minutes or until puffed and set. </div>
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12. Remove from the oven and immediately, using a pastry brush, brush a thin coat of slightly warmed honey over the top. Let cool on a wire rack for 30 minutes before removing the tart pan. </div>
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13. Serve at room temperature or chilled. A dollop of whipped cream wouldn't be too shabby either. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-27069653606282290292014-12-12T10:27:00.001-05:002017-08-01T12:56:25.731-04:00Puerto Rican Latte (aka Cafe Con Leche)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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A couple of months ago, we took our first bonafide family vacation together. The kind of vacation that you save up money for, book plane tickets for, count down the days for and relish every moment of. We've traveled to beaches in the past~ always on family visits to the grandparents. </div>
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Someday soon I will share pictures from our 10 days in Puerto Rico. </div>
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Words cannot describe the R&R that was discovered there for our family. Hopefully pictures will do it justice. </div>
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While there, the mister and I drank copious amounts of café con leche. Usually from little road side stands. And usually served in white Styrofoam cups...the milk foam brimming to the top with a dark sunken spot where the brown large crystals of sugar had fallen. </div>
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Now home, I'm still drinking my café con leche. </div>
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(Yeah...he's that great.)</div>
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He's always been a collector of little stove top coffee makers. And although we have both an espresso machine and coffee pot, he prefers the slow method of frothing and boiling every time. I don't complain. The first sip transports me back to visions of boys frolicking on the beach every time. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-88761359758990894102014-11-01T15:08:00.000-04:002017-08-01T12:56:57.851-04:00Kouign-Amann; A boy and his culinary journey<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Seeing your child excel at something is a proud moment for a parent. Watching them as they cultivate an inner passion is the ultimate. <br />
Today he worked on his skills. He's had it leafed in his cookbook to try Kouign-Amman for a bit now. Today, on this snowy Saturday~ with his favorite Jazz standards playing on Spotify and his brothers Rainbow looming in the dining room, he started the arduous 12+ hour process of making this difficult pastry. <br />
Tomorrow we'll reap the benefits. Hello Sunday brunch.<br />
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<iframe src="https://megansmith.exposure.co/kouignamann?embed=true" style="border-radius: 2px; border: 1px solid rgb(204, 204, 204); height: 600px; margin-bottom: 5px; width: 650px;"></iframe><br />
<a href="https://megansmith.exposure.co/kouignamann">Kouign-Amann</a> by <a href="https://megansmith.exposure.co/">Megan Smith</a> on <a href="https://exposure.co/">Exposure</a>
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<img alt="Signature" height="88" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpmAESmxAg8MxyiDOnyQFLqiedJ1kC3M27VEeNUw8a-fPU8N0IYKeP8a2Vf9d43IBeldke-rjiDmp1bptOD_7RBTuNQevv3w-wlh9hLYgRFoPPAzKCjpnHExGP6Ls0hbr1H683wXOd5o/s200/Megan-Signature2.png" title="Megan" width="200" />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-34459054119121883362014-10-30T11:21:00.004-04:002017-08-01T12:57:17.559-04:00Crispy Lima Bean Frizzle....and How Childhood Visits to a Historic Village Shaped My Life. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Not too long ago, I took myself on a little overnight R&R trip to the city I called home for the first 18 years of life. <br />
I love those hours I am treated to a couple of times a year and love that my husband pushes me out the door; away from my duties as CEO, wife and mom for just a bit. <br />
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I didn't have plans when I pulled out of the driveway. Just a hotel booked and an overnight bag. <br />
The day couldn't have been more perfect for a road trip. <br />
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I stopped at the bookstore and bought a <em>How To Learn French</em> CD <span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong>(two notes here: 1. No, it never dawned on me that podcasts are created for such things until my husband told me. 2. Yes, I took French in high school and only remember <em>"if fait froid"</em> and <em>"il fait chaud" </em>thanks to a high school French teacher that was a little obsessive about the weather.)</strong></span> <br />
With my French CD and a few new magazines <span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong>(is it really possible to get out of a bookstore with just one item)</strong></span>, I got on a long stretch of highway and thought about what would be next. There was a 7pm minor league baseball game that night....which was sold out when I called for tickets. Bummer.<br />
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I considered going to a movie, shopping, art museums....all indoors and a terrible way to spend a gorgeous Saturday afternoon. <br />
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Then I remembered one of my favorite childhood places. A historic village, replicating life in our State back in the 1800's. Bingo. I felt a tinge of guilt going someplace that I knew the kids would love. Still I forged ahead with my solo-date. <br />
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Let me just say....a lot changes over time, doesn't it? Those places that we have our fondest memories of~ when visited later in life, are dreadfully disappointing<em>.</em> Thankfully this wasn't the case when I stepped through the welcome gates at the historic village and literally transported....not back to the 1800's but back to my most cherished memories. <br />
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I have an interesting sort of childhood. Good and bad...don't we all? Although the older I get, the more I learn that some of my 'bads' might have been a bit badder than some. And that's OK. I've never been one for crutches or excuses~ life is what you make of it.<br />
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At any rate, this day, while peaking into the schoolhouse, the pharmacy, the blacksmith's shop, the millinery store.....I had the most awakening experience I've had in quite a long time. It actually sort of blew my mind. <br />
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As I walked through this replica town that gave me some of my most beautiful, exciting memories as a young girl, I discovered.....I discovered that I had imbedded those feelings and images of comfort and happiness that this place gave me and I carried them through to my life as an adult. <br />
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And I never realized it until that very moment. <br />
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In essence, what I find most comforting and beautiful in my homestead that I have been creating for my husband and boys for over 15 years now, are those visual elements that I looked forward to so much as a child. <br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMXI-fIXawXUdMXqEEoRyvSkGnZM1ckTh_bi5RNsbqAUqcFzVdlxLOzFFEx7ZMMdAjv__Ef_A_D9rkTL3wkUAxSF3bbKfKkLxJZJBYtPX0iIUu9S2pO19RcsGOzJnkd_nalJZUIyhHYBk/s1600/food+memories+9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMXI-fIXawXUdMXqEEoRyvSkGnZM1ckTh_bi5RNsbqAUqcFzVdlxLOzFFEx7ZMMdAjv__Ef_A_D9rkTL3wkUAxSF3bbKfKkLxJZJBYtPX0iIUu9S2pO19RcsGOzJnkd_nalJZUIyhHYBk/s1600/food+memories+9.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A phone pics I took that day at the village. </td></tr>
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Isn't that BIZARRE!?!?!?!<br />
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Reality is...maybe its not so bizarre. <br />
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People so often ask me (especially those that know my family history), where I've come to possess such a passion for food~ for homemaking~ for creating home. There isn't a straightforward answer I can give. I'm really not sure what that evolutionary process has been except that there have been little things along the way in this journey of Megan Smith's life that I guess I cling to (unknowingly) and have built upon. <br />
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Both my maternal grandmother and grandfather were deaf. They were divorced but lived in the same deaf community~ where I spent a lot of my early childhood while my single mom worked across town. I knew just a bit of sign language....pretty much just the alphabet. So communicating with my grandma was a matter of signing out each word. And as a 5 year old~ holy moly that takes a while. C-A-N I H-A-V-E A D-R-I-N-K? I W-A-N-T T-O G-O O-U-T-S-I-D-E. <br />
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It was an arduous communication process at best.<br />
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Needless to say, there was a lot of silence in my childhood. Which is probably why I'm a rather quiet person now. <br />
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My grandmother wasn't necessarily a homemaker~ she lived in a teeny tiny apartment community, almost like a retirement community, where meals were provided in a cafeteria downstairs. But I do remember her footstool which opened into a sewing kit. And I remember her recipes. I don't recall her ever mixing anything in her little kitchen except for pitchers of Tang (remember that drink!?) ....but she did have recipes. <br />
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After she died, my mom brought my grandma's belongings to our house. I gathered her recipes~ many of them handwritten, a lot of them cut out from the local newspaper too. And I started cataloging them. I was around 9 years old. <br />
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I kept it up until I left home at 18. I would sit down each week with the Sunday paper, open to the food section and clip the recipes from the week. I would tape them to index cards and then file them under the appropriate letter. At some point, I was gifted a word processor and I typed out a few of the easy ones. I felt so grown-up doing that. <br />
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I still have those recipes. All of them. And this blog, now nearly 10 years along, is a reflection of the passion I have for the pleasure and joy that food brings~ a nod, most poignantly, to those quiet, early years with my grandmother. <br />
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In our new home I have an old, white, wooden, <br />
drop-leaf table and chair that sit right under the window. Next to it I keep my cookbook collection. I have always wanted a cookbook nook in my house. Now I have it. And I find myself there each day after work, while the boys do homework, looking through my recipes~ filing, organizing, creating, planning....just like I did as a child. <br />
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And I love it so. <br />
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One recipe I ran across this week in those old index card boxes was a recipe for lima beans. At the Smith Homestead we're in a week of 'try one new thing a day.' Lima beans are definitely new for my crew. I took the basic recipe for lima beans that I had typed out two decades ago, and built on it to create this side dish. <br />
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The results were delicious. Each element added from the beans to the sprouts to the squash were crisped up and flavored perfectly. There's a little touch of sweetness at the end. Don't neglect that. It makes the magic in your mouth.<br />
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<strong>Crispy Lima Bean, Brussels Sprouts and Butternut Squash Frizzle</strong><br />
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<li><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">friz·zle </span></strong><span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;">[ frízz'l ] :</span> <span style="font-size: x-small;">to sizzle while frying or cooking, or fry or cook something so that it sizzles</span></span></li>
<span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></span><br />
<span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong>2 cups julienned fresh Brussels sprouts</strong></span></span><br />
<span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong>2 cups frozen (or fresh, if you can find them) fordhook lima beans</strong></span></span><br />
<span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong>1 cup butternut squash, peeled and then sliced super thin with a mandolin or vegetable peeler. Then diced. </strong></span></span><br />
<span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong></strong></span></span><br />
<span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong>3 Tbsp. coconut oil</strong></span></span><br />
<span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong>salt & pepper to taste</strong></span></span><br />
<span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong>2 Tbsp. Sweet Chili Sauce</strong></span></span><br />
<span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong>*we use Mae Ploy ( </strong><a href="http://importfood.com/samp1001.html"><strong>http://importfood.com/samp1001.html</strong></a><strong>) This is found nearly everywhere now in the Asian section of your local grocery store. If you don't have this or want to keep any around, substitute with honey. </strong></span></span><br />
<span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></span><br />
<span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;">In a skillet, heat the coconut oil until hot. Add the Brussels sprouts and cook at a high heat (think like a stir-fry master...lots of stirring and tossing to get these veggies cooked quickly and crisply). </span></span><br />
<span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></span><br />
<span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Once the sprouts start to wilt, add the lima beans and squash. Continue to cook and watch closely for development of bright colors and a bit of crisping around the edges of the sprout leaves and the flat sides of the lima beans. Gorgeous! </span></span><br />
<span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></span><br />
<span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Add a bit of salt and pepper towards the end of the frizzling process (I'm loving this word 'frizzle' right now.) Taste for doneness and flavor. <br /><br />When all is right in terms of bursts of flavor in your mouth, turn off the heat and add the sweet chili sauce (or honey). Stir to combine. </span></span><br />
<span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></span><br />
<span class="cprn"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Now eat up! This is great hot, room temperature or during next-days lunch right out of the fridge. </span></span><br />
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</div><img alt="Signature" height="88" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpmAESmxAg8MxyiDOnyQFLqiedJ1kC3M27VEeNUw8a-fPU8N0IYKeP8a2Vf9d43IBeldke-rjiDmp1bptOD_7RBTuNQevv3w-wlh9hLYgRFoPPAzKCjpnHExGP6Ls0hbr1H683wXOd5o/s200/Megan-Signature2.png" title="Megan" width="200" />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-11159990438839435022014-10-24T09:43:00.002-04:002017-08-01T12:57:54.279-04:00Curried Turkey Meatballs and The Choice to Always Be a Homemaker<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Autumn is here in our sleepy town of Oakwood. I'm sitting in my sunny upstairs bedroom with windows on both sides opened, listening to the neighbors crunch the fallen leaves as they take their morning walk to town for a cuppa and a scone at the best little English tea shop. <br />
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These mornings are usually only ones for the weekends~ as I am rushing out the door alongside the boys and Mike to get to the studio (3 blocks away) for work during the week. <br />
Today is a luxury~ Issue seven just headed to print yesterday and so I will savor this mug of coffee and bowl of overnight oats with pumpkin a little more slowly. <br />
I am often asked if life is still 'normal' for us. And by that I know what they mean. What they want to know is, 'are you too busy to do homemaking anymore?" My answer is always "no". <br />
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Can you ever really leave behind a passion that is written on your heart? <br />
I surely hope not. <br />
In my case it is impossible. <br />
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Creating home is my ethos. Simplicity with purpose makes sense to me. Candlelit family dinners around our farm table are a foundational practice for our family. Baking with my boys brings me greater joy than any issue hot off the press ever will. And curling up for Masterpiece Mystery with Mr. Handsome will always give me butterflies.<br />
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The magazine is a beautiful addition to my already full life.<br />
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A few weeks ago I was tucking Ezra under the covers for sleep. He looked up in a moment of seriousness (rare for this giggle box of an 8 year old boy) and asked, "Do you think you'll do the magazine forever?" Immediately mom-guilt set in. "Poor boy", I thought, "he misses having me home. My travel schedule must really be getting to him finally...... (my mind did several laps around this sort of thinking in a matter of seconds.) <br />
My question back to him was, "do you miss having mommy home?" His response took me back. And it filled my heart with gratitude for such an amazing set of men I get to have in my life everyday. His response was this- " I hope you always do the magazine mom. It's so cool and it makes everyone who reads it really happy." <br />
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Woah. How's that for affirmation? <br />
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And indeed, it does make everyone happy. And that's an incredible job to go to each day. <br />
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But our routine remains much the same, in essence, as it did three years ago. Boys go off to school~ leaving a house that looks just as quaint and "Smith-like" as ever; filled with family artwork, tattered antique furniture, loads of kitchen wares that get used often, and cozy quilts that we sink into each night. <br />
We still cook and bake and make things and play games and explore in nature and take road trips just for the heck of it. <br />
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But the reality is that I am not a full time homemaker anymore. I put on heels and skirts and go to big-time meetings. I rush to the airport to catch flights, just to have them delayed and then sit people watching for hours in a smelly, outdated terminal. I prepare speeches to give to large audiences (gulp) and I set editorial calendars via Skype with my team. <br />
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Nevertheless~ food and home are my comfort and they make our family feel connected.<br />
To keep them central, it is utterly essential to schedule them in a day. <br />
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As of late, my routine is this: (if I'm in town....if I'm on a work trip, refer back to the sitting-in-terminals-waiting-on-delayed-flights bit)<br />
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<em>8am:</em>Kiss the 4 boys and send them off to school/work before walking to the studio.<br />
<em>For the next 7 hours: </em>Work. This means conference calls, meetings, planning, designing, bookkeeping, dreaming, emailing, sketching, dictating, directing, signing, shipping.....<br />
<em>3pm:</em> Sign out of email. Put my phone away and give myself 10 minutes to plan the evening meal. <br />
<em>3:15: </em>Off to the grocery store. <br />
<em>3:45: </em>Pick up Otto at preschool<br />
<em>4pm: </em>Greet the boys who have just returned from school/the library on their bikes<br />
<em>4-9pm: </em>Solid family time. No work texts and emails. No checking on deadlines....you get the point. <br />
These hours are so precious to us all. We spend them wisely. Mike and I cook together and chat about the day. We help the boys with homework and give them their daily chores to complete. We set the table, light candles, sit and eat together. We create art in the evenings while listening to jazz (Canaan's favorite), we get lunches together for the next day. We laugh, we play, the boys wrestle their dad. <br />
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That little bit of the day between 3-3:45 has become "me" time in my day. And I love it so. Its my decompression time between wearing my CEO hat and my Homemaker hat. I let myself linger in the aisles, not just grabbing the first mango chutney I see but slowing down enough to appreciate the massive selection of chutneys our little town grocery store offers. I talk to the butcher and I smile at people I pass. The one thing I don't allow myself to do is look at magazines in the check out lane :)<br />
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I love the ritualistic nature of going to the store each day~ only buying what we need instead of loading up on what might spoil over the course of a week after a big grocery outing. I used to think that going to the store meant you spent more money on groceries. I'm finding the exact opposite to be true. We are spending less. Buying less snack foods and avoiding putting things in a cart with the 'we might want this this week' mentality. <br />
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Below was last nights meal. I love Indian food...my kids are still getting acclimated to the taste. They have grown to love Thai curry, the shift to Indian is a bit more of a process. Nonetheless, these meatballs are a great introduction for any palate to the flavors of Indian cuisine. They have a hint of sweetness from honey and just a touch of spice (not heat...just spice) to make your taste buds say 'oh hello!'.<br />
They are super easy to make and quick to bake. They completely fall into the 'healthy' category and will no doubt be consumed in massive quantities at your holiday party this year.<br />
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A mild mango chutney is a great accompaniment for dipping them in. We added to the table, basmati rice that everyone could top with slivered almonds and a little batch of chicken curry for the Mr and I....giving the kids yet another chance to keep developing that palate for a curry other than Massaman. <br />
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<strong>Curried Turkey Meatballs with Mango Chutney</strong><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Recipe developed by Megan Smith; Art of Homemaking</span><br />
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1lb lean ground turkey<br />
1/2 yellow onion, chopped finely<br />
1 Tbsp. mild curry<br />
2 tsp cumin<br />
2 tsp salt<br />
1 Tbsp honey<br />
2 tsp minced ginger (I buy the squeeze tube you can find in the fresh herb section of the store)<br />
1 egg<br />
1 cup breadcrumbs (I make my own with 2 slices of bread and my aging Cuisinart food processor)<br />
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Mix all of the above ingredients in a bowl. Grab up 2 Tablespoon sized portions of the meat mixture into your palms and roll into tight balls. Place them on a parchment lined baking sheet.<br />
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Bake the meatballs in a 350 degree oven for 15 minutes. After 15 minutes, break one meatball in half to check for doneness. If no longer pink in the middle, your little gems are ready for munching! But first....bump your oven onto the broil setting and leave the meatballs under a high broil setting for 1 minute to get them browned on top. <br />
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Once removed from the oven, you can go above and beyond by brushing a bit of honey on the tops. Its just that extra step of TLC that'll make them shine (literally and figuratively). <br />
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Serve them with some sweet, mild chutney (or spicy, of course!) <br />
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They make a great appetizer, football watching noshing, or addition to a very cozy Indian meal. <br />
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<img alt="Signature" height="88" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpmAESmxAg8MxyiDOnyQFLqiedJ1kC3M27VEeNUw8a-fPU8N0IYKeP8a2Vf9d43IBeldke-rjiDmp1bptOD_7RBTuNQevv3w-wlh9hLYgRFoPPAzKCjpnHExGP6Ls0hbr1H683wXOd5o/s200/Megan-Signature2.png" title="Megan" width="200" /><br />
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P.S. One more tidbit of advice....always keep some (freshly popped) popcorn around for munching during dinner prep....it has kept me many-a-times from sampling a whole plate of dinner before the meal :) <br />
Just no butter! <br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-13245191843740507322014-09-02T10:02:00.001-04:002017-08-01T12:58:10.869-04:00The Breakdown (and Rebuilding) of a Marriage<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBehtZq8MhFJX8SSI0pRSpeFG27Avhzfmy6UBK2Ed-TXqoChHZvNtP2avArUg_KBT5TVZvZkX5AmF4MvX3_JDQjKV8s4PB1P1QqB3FQ8UZ_6rT8DHkvZGM5Kceyanoh6Qh0Uh722pIhlI/s1600/M&M+for+blog2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBehtZq8MhFJX8SSI0pRSpeFG27Avhzfmy6UBK2Ed-TXqoChHZvNtP2avArUg_KBT5TVZvZkX5AmF4MvX3_JDQjKV8s4PB1P1QqB3FQ8UZ_6rT8DHkvZGM5Kceyanoh6Qh0Uh722pIhlI/s1600/M&M+for+blog2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ok...I really didn't airbrush this. It uploaded with a haziness (weird.) Mike says he's excited about no wrinkles ;)</td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Over the course of 8 years writing this blog, I haven’t
steered clear of heavy topics. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I love blogs for their realness. Yet often they take us, the
reader, out of reality with their overly whimsical view of someone’s supposed
daily life. My life is quite whimsical (to me) but also quite real. Like
nitty-gritty real….no one escapes nitty-gritty real, right?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The purpose of my blog has always been to document life here
at The Smith Homestead….because I have a fantastically bad memory. The blog has
been my source of memory-lane-walking over the years, a wonderful gift I’ve
given to myself to keep it maintained and alive. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Mixed into this life of food and family and home renovations
and backyard parties and crafts and entrepreneurial ideas…all of which are REAL
stuff….is the other real stuff. The layoffs, the financial struggles, the
failures and missteps, the spiritual questions and heavy life issues that weigh
heavily at points in the journey.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Recently I’ve briefly shared about, but I want to dive in a
bit deeper today, into something that hit our little homestead hard over the
past 3 years. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The discovery of rock bottom in our 15 year marriage. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">My brief mentioning’s have flooded my inbox and my FB
messenger with notes from friends and readers who find that they too, are at
their own rock bottom with their partner. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">So this post is a bit of a journey through what I have
learned over the past year in particular and a bit of wisdom I’ve stumbled upon
that just might resonate with another struggling at this same point in the
journey. I’m not going to dive super deep into details…because blogs aren’t the
place for that. But if you want to grab a cup of coffee and sit down for a
chat, let me know. I had an amazing friend that walked this journey with me and
I am eternally indebted to her and happy to pay it forward. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Let me first say, I am learning more and more as I open up
with others about this topic that this is really, really common. That isn’t to
say it’s a good thing. But if you do find yourself in a place
like I did….like we did… don’t ignore it. Don’t feel guilty about it. Don’t
feel like a failure or wonder ‘what’s wrong with me?’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t run to the doctor for your first
prescription of Zoloft and don’t start making drinks with friends after work
the new norm. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Instead...</span><br />
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><o:p></o:p></span><br /></div>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> <strong><u> Name it.</u></strong> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">By all accounts, Mike and I had
most every element that a ‘healthy’ relationship would have. There was plenty
of hand holding and planned date nights and memory building with the kids and
after-work chit chats about the day. There was laughter and silliness and game
nights and late night conversations on the couch. But my heart and mind and
spirit were struggling. I couldn’t even vocalize it because I felt selfish and
bratty for not being completely content in a marriage that many yearn for.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">A line from a silly indie film
jumped out at me recently. “Some people get married because they don’t want to
be alone. Others get married because they want magic.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Nail on the head moment for me.
I’m a ‘magic’ kind of girl. Always have been.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And I can’t apologize for it nor want to. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t really date much before Mike because
I was never the girl that needed a boy. I have always been happy alone or with
people. I prefer a mix of both, actually. But it’s the magic. It’s the belief
that choosing to be with someone forever should always carry with it a desire
to work towards something great together every day. That outside elements like
kids and bills and pressures at work aren’t allowed to become the (valid)
reasons for letting the magic wane. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">A couple of years ago I
finally mustered the voice to tell this to Mike. For him, it was like a sledge
hammer to the head. For me it was a mixed bag of relief and fear in the
unknown. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"> <strong><u>Forgo marriage counseling</u></strong>. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The first thing we’re told when a marriage
hits the rocks is ‘go to counseling’. We skipped that advice. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">When I finally was able to pinpoint some of
what my heart and mind were struggling with, the last thing I wanted to do was
to get into a room with Mike and a counselor and dive into our issues. Because,
honestly, aside from my husband forgetting to buy the occasional birthday gift
or plan an anniversary date, or falling asleep on the couch when he could be
helping fold laundry or lacking that ‘zest for life’ I was desperately wanting
him to have….he was, in every other way, a perfect partner. <br />
I had no major gripes. No major issues to bring to a counselor for mediation. I
just felt…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Unsettled. Unhappy. Unsure of why. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">And for that I knew marriage counseling
couldn’t help. I talk to SO many now who are finding themselves at this
same point. Possibly it’s a season-of-life thing. Possibly it’s something more.
Whatever the reason, don’t let it set roots. Take action.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Mike asked for marriage counseling. I asked
for individual counseling. He agreed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">So we both found separate therapists and
weekly, faithfully, went to our sessions. I have no idea what he talked about
in his and he doesn’t know the details of mine. And that’s a good thing. We
both understood that whatever point we were at in our marriage was not only a
joint problem~ it was more importantly a disconnect we were having with
ourselves that needed addressing. And whether we stayed together or parted
ways, we had some self-care to do. </span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Almost overnight, those weekly sessions
began transforming us. We each dove into books to nourish our souls. And they
were not marriage books offered by Focus on the Family (not bashing…just clarifying.)
We listened to podcasts, went on solo weekends away and invested enormous
amounts of time and energy into discovering how we each had lost the ‘magic’…essentially
the joyful, playful, grateful, selfless spirit within ourselves to the daily
grind of the world around us. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"> <strong><u>Talk about divorce<o:p></o:p></u></strong></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">When we got married, we decided that the
word ‘divorce’ was not an option up for discussion. In theory, this is a very
romantic and covenantal sort of agreement to make. It made our marriage seem,
at the time, very permanent and rock solid. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">But looking back, not being able to discuss
the scary stuff like divorce made me feel trapped. We both agree now that one
of the best things that could have happened in our marriage was to look
seriously at the option of divorce. Crazy? I don’t think so. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">At the point in which I came to Mike and
vocalized all that I was struggling with, I was ready for retreat. I dreamed of
finding a little farmhouse nearby and living there without him, sharing time
with the kids. That, I imagined, would be a perfect life scenario (I always
have erred on the side of head-in-the-clouds.)</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Over many months, we inched our discussions
further down this trail of “divorce.” It was some scary stuff. It feels like a
slippery slope…and I imagine many would say to head down the path of these discussions
is a final nail in the coffin of your marriage. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">For us, it proved the opposite. To look at
each other and ask, point blank, “Do you want a divorce?” was incredibly
powerful. It allowed us both to think about every repercussion of that answer,
both yes and no. To answer “yes” is to say that I am OK with Mike moving
forward in life without me. I am willing to spend Christmas without my kids
some years and plan vacations apart. I am essentially saying, ‘life without you
would be better than life with you and I’m willing to sacrifice a lot for it.’
And that was absolutely not something I could ever say with any weight of
truth. Neither could he. So when we both asked each other that question, “Do
you want a divorce”, it was a moment of relief and healing in our relationship
to both freely and honestly answer, ‘no’. It meant we had a starting point.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"> <strong><u>Cut some slack<o:p></o:p></u></strong></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">This journey that we’ve been on hasn’t been
a few weeks in the making. It’s been years. We spent 2 years in the down spiral
and the past year of digging out. Long time. And today I can say it was totally
worthwhile. My answer would have been different 2 years and 8 months ago. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I will say, the most miraculous and hardest
part of this sort of journey is turning your heart back to your
partner again. It almost seems like an insurmountable task. More often than
not, hurt and distance and falling out of love can actually <em>be</em> that final nail
in the coffin. There’s just no road map to reengage your heart back to someone
you’ve emotionally distanced yourself from. And this is where the element of time
and openness to the possibility are critical. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">In the process of growth over the past
year, I have learned, as it pertains to my part in the marriage, to cut him some
slack. Because of my distancing, I grew resentful and hard and critical. And that's my problem to fix. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Being able to soften my heart towards Mike
again meant acknowledging that he will without a doubt screw up. A lot. So will
I. And even with all of the promises he made in fighting for us…he will falter
at those. He already has. I have too. And that’s OK. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I have a favorite memento now. A recent
gift from Mike’s mom. It’s a small charm for a necklace…a picture of Mike at three year old. Looks just like Otto, which is why my mother-in-law gave it to
me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">But for me, it’s special for another
reason. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I’m not Mike's mother (figuratively). It’s not
my job to make sure he’s doing chores and keeping his commitments and taking
out the trash after dinner. And I’m not his majesty. It’s not his job to make
sure I am completely happy and fulfilled and cared for at every moment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">At the end of the day, my husband still is that
little boy smiling in the picture. He’s someone that loves and wants to be
loved. He wants acceptance and belief that what he is doing each day matters to
me, even if no one else. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Mike and I are two people who have loved each
other for 15 years and who have chosen to walk through life together, side by
side. It’s a choice we get to make, despite what religion or morals or society
tells us about contracts and obligations. And I love that. I love that each day
we have decided that life together is far more beautiful together than life
apart. This small transformation of our minds has changed the course of our relationship
together. It gives us enormous amounts of confidence and security and happiness
and comfort. We find such joy in creating a bit of magic together each day….for
each other. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">We’ve always left little notes for each
other throughout our marriage. The practice tapered off in the thick of things, but
even in the depths of marital crisis we still carved out time to write down our
feelings to each other. Below are a couple of notes we exchanged recently. If
you only knew the darkness from which we emerged from, the fact that he can
write such beautiful words to me is the ultimate picture of unconditional love.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I’m not quite sure why I share them except
to maybe give another hope. Hope that magic is always there whether you are in
a season of struggling or normalcy and mundane. Strive for the best. Look for
the best. Work for the best. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">You won’t regret it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: x-small;">(*disclaimer. I'm not a therapist, nor a marriage expert. This is what I've learned from my journey and there might just be a nugget in there that will help you breathe a little easier today if you are in that same place.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3rp2vv4WWZlYLN4gbMERYIuwamDico7lMg3aXQvdXba-bA0IiU2Yy4jgttKtFkk1hx5pbfVESpaWMOi_SqwbMyG8YrmWh42ny9OVixrC0AZ6mYvBsHOCMe7rQjgSIOAD6vVkuwD0swwM/s1600/Untitled-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3rp2vv4WWZlYLN4gbMERYIuwamDico7lMg3aXQvdXba-bA0IiU2Yy4jgttKtFkk1hx5pbfVESpaWMOi_SqwbMyG8YrmWh42ny9OVixrC0AZ6mYvBsHOCMe7rQjgSIOAD6vVkuwD0swwM/s1600/Untitled-1.jpg" width="494" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(ignore that 'doggs' typo. We have two dogs, but its not spelled with two 'gg' s ;) </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-3985071613995176022014-08-18T11:27:00.001-04:002017-08-01T12:58:45.043-04:00Raw Carrot Cake Love<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I remember a few years ago when the idea of 'raw' food really started trending. Did any of you ever pick up a copy of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Raw-Uncook-Book-Vegetarian-Food/dp/0060392622" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;"><strong>this</strong></span></a>? I had one on my bookshelf.<br />
Never made a single thing out of it. <br />
<br />
As much as I'd love to fit into my jeans from senior year, have glowing skin for another three decades and a memory like a vault, I'm just not willing to say goodbye to all 'bad' foods. The thought of pizza not making an appearance in my life each week...well no words can describe the horrors. <br />
<br />
And along with pizza, cake plays a rather large role in my culinary life. Heck, I even figured out a way to weave its presence into a business magazine. Genius, right? <br />
<br />
Carrot cake is one of my favorites. The small British tea shop across the street from my office makes one of the best I've ever had. And my recipe, found in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_18?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=off%20the%20eaten%20path%20second%20helpings&sprefix=off+the+eaten+path%2Cstripbooks%2C195" target="_blank"><strong><span style="color: #45818e;">this</span></strong></a> Southern Living cookbook, isn't so shabby either. <br />
<br />
So why go and mess with a good thing by going 'raw' with it? <br />
Because. <br />
Because this cake is pretty remarkable. <br />
No sugar, no flour, no vegetable oil, eggs or butter. <br />
<br />
The ingredients are simple. <br />
Carrots, dates, almonds, cashews, a splash of maple syrup. <br />
Oh-my-good.<br />
<br />
I literally crave this cake. Its my go-to quick breakfast (oatmeal is on hiatus until the first frost). And its my late night dessert.<br />
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<br />
While snapping a few pictures last night at sundown, Otto showed up in the kitchen. Never before has he walked over to something I'm photographing and started digging in. But that's exactly what he did. My first instinct was to jump in..."Otto, mommy is photographing this. You need to wait, please." But I didn't. Instead I smiled as he loudly stated "Cake! It's my birthday!" (not true...rarely what he says lives in reality).<br />
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So this four year old boy who had never eaten my raw carrot cake before and who has the least desire of any child I've ever known to venture out beyond peanut butter and jelly on white bread, dug into this piece of cake like it was a ten mile high chocolate birthday cake. <br />
<br />
His response? <br />
"This is <em>awesome.</em>"<br />
And then he danced a little jig. <br />
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I thought so too. Because if I can get my PB&J phene to eat dates, cashews and carrots without any trickery or hiding of ingredients involved, I'm game. (scroll below for recipe)<br />
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Beyond food, life is beautiful here. And a beautiful mess...depending on the day and the situation at hand. <br />
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We'll attend a funeral this week for a family member that left before any of us were ready to say goodbye. That's tough. And the boys head back to school tomorrow (6th and 3rd grade) and that's hard on this mama who isn't ready to send them off. <br />
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But we are well~ carving out time for often breakfasts on the back porch, celebrating with popcorn-making for finally getting the pilot light in our 1920's stove to work in the kitchen, taking long hikes near our house and mowing the lawn between conference calls at the office. <br />
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #538135;"><span style="font-family: "calibri light";">Raw Carrot Cake
with Cashew Frosting</span></span></span></span></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri light"; font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: #333d3b; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;">Cashew frosting</span></b></span></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri light";">2 cups raw cashews, soaked for 30 minutes
in hot water</span></span></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri light";">2 tablespoons lemon juice</span></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri light";">2 tablespoons coconut oil, melted</span></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri light";">1/3 cup maple syrup (or sweetener of
choice)</span></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri light";">Warm water, as needed<o:p></o:p></span></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri light";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: #333d3b; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;">Carrot Cake</span></b></span></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri light";">2 large carrots, peeled and roughly chopped</span></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri light";">1 1/2 cups almond meal </span></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri light";">2 cup medjool dates, seeds removed</span></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri light";">1/2 cup organic shredded or desiccated
coconut (optional)</span></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri light";">1/2 teaspoon cinnamon</span></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri light";">1 tsp salt (optional…helps bring out
flavors so I like to add it)<o:p></o:p></span></span></h2>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #538135;"><span style="font-family: "calibri light";">Directions<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-family: "open sans"; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;">1. To make the frosting, blend all ingredients in your
blender (high speed preferably) until smooth, adding in some water as needed. *<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-family: "open sans"; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;">2. To make the cake, chop the carrots into small pieces and
then throw into your food processor with the other cake ingredients and pulse
until it's all in really small pieces and sticks together. * <o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-family: "open sans"; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;">3. To assemble, put half of the cake mix into the bottom of
a lined spring-form cake pan and press firmly with a spoon. Then spread on
about 1/3 of the frosting. Then place into the freezer until the frosting is
hard.<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-family: "open sans"; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;">4. Then put the rest of the cake mix into the pan and press
firmly with your fingers or the bottom of a glass.<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-family: "open sans"; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;">5. The put the remainder of the frosting into the cake pan
and place back into the freezer until the frosting is hard.<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-family: "open sans"; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;">6. Either leave in the freezer or store in the refrigerator.
When ready to serve, take out of the freezer and let stand at room temperature
until a knife goes through smoothly. If storing in the fridge, slice and enjoy
immediately. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #538135; font-family: "calibri light";">*</span><span style="color: #333d3b; font-family: "open sans"; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;"> I’ve made this in my food processor as well. It will
work, just won’t have quite the same smooth consistency. Set aside.</span></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #333d3b; font-family: "open sans"; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.5pt;">*If you don’t have a food processor, you could shred the
carrots and dice the dates and mix by hand. <o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-8427853587609835552014-08-06T09:00:00.000-04:002017-08-02T12:39:55.127-04:00Rosemary Buttermilk Biscuits<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj8STljXgwZNkqVXhxAPO6fprsLD0rsYpKwivp0Do8e9IrIZPs4H-S_zpMRrVwqJxafJKDnMMRNfaf5-EfDyznpJuA2NCTVM6dOMw6uEwuxRW_UHPtzn8ASyGpml5MgSjOjIQzqlP2dV8/s1600/biscuit+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj8STljXgwZNkqVXhxAPO6fprsLD0rsYpKwivp0Do8e9IrIZPs4H-S_zpMRrVwqJxafJKDnMMRNfaf5-EfDyznpJuA2NCTVM6dOMw6uEwuxRW_UHPtzn8ASyGpml5MgSjOjIQzqlP2dV8/s1600/biscuit+2.jpg" /></a></div>
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Despite being sans traditional kitchen set up right now,
baking hasn't fallen too far to the wayside. Fingers in dough is a form of
stress relieving therapy for me. Even before we bought a little counter top
convection oven I was grilling pita bread and pizza dough as often as I could.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This weekend we took brunch to a family across the street with
a sweet little baby girl welcomed into their fold of two older sisters.
Thinking of what to feed a total of 9 mouths with my grill and counter top
convection oven proved to be a fun challenge. In the end, I settled for
homemade granola with yogurt and berries and grilled sausage patties on flaky rosemary
cheddar biscuits. Easily made, easily transportable.</div>
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The recipe is adapted from who knows where. I've kept a
3-ring binder now for 15 years of odds and end recipes with my notes in the
margins. Newspaper and magazine clippings, handwritten recipes from those
light bulb/improv-in-the-kitchen moments, recipes passed down from friends and
family…it’s a huge hodgepodge of crazy and its one of my most treasured bits of
goodness. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I have added chopped rosemary from my kitchen window herb
garden, to the recipe along with a few tweaks here and there to make these a
bit more billowy and flaky. They are super, super simple. I often mix the dry
ingredients the night before, chop my butter and keep it wrapped in the fridge
and then in the morning~ between groggy eyed sips of coffee I simply assemble,
roll out, cut and bake. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtJoJRqSVdSspJNjlXgJrB4MxxQl0W4TWZlwGqONi_jEYET2UjhMIYnce_3L37QyIayoeL53vFJ3llV9hj8EH6ypmRDLGyaVh3Am8TA8YShyAQyGJso6ttsygvw7dnojoxUinZH-8Yu0/s1600/biscuit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtJoJRqSVdSspJNjlXgJrB4MxxQl0W4TWZlwGqONi_jEYET2UjhMIYnce_3L37QyIayoeL53vFJ3llV9hj8EH6ypmRDLGyaVh3Am8TA8YShyAQyGJso6ttsygvw7dnojoxUinZH-8Yu0/s1600/biscuit.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Rosemary Buttermilk Biscuits</span> ~ </b>Yields 12-14 biscuits<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>4 cups AP flour (I use White Lily for biscuits)<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b>4 Tbsp. chopped dried or fresh rosemary <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b>4 tsp. baking powder<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b>4 tsp. sugar<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b>1.5 tsp baking soda<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b>1 tsp. salt<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b>1.5 sticks unsalted butter, chopped into small pieces<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b>1 cup shredded sharp cheddar <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b>1.5 cups cold buttermilk</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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Preheat oven to 450 degrees. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whisk together the dry ingredients except for the chopped
rosemary. Blend in the butter with a pastry cutter or your fingers until the
dry ingredients resemble clumped sand. Stir in the grated cheese and then dump
the buttermilk into the bowl. Mix with a wooden spoon until incorporated and a
dough ball begins to form. <br />
At this point, dump the dough onto a floured surface and knead gently a dozen
times or so until it a cohesive dough ball but absolutely DO NOT over knead or
else your beautiful little balls of butter will start to melt from the heat of
your hands. That’s a no no. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Pat the dough (or gently roll) until it is around 1.5” in
thickness. Cut the biscuits with a cutter (I use a square cutter from King
Arthur Flour.) <o:p></o:p></div>
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Arrange them about 1 inch apart on a parchment lined baking
sheet. Bake until golden brown and the biscuits are cooked through, about 15
minutes. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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Remove from the oven, split and fill with any goodies your
groggy-eyed-self desires. And don’t forget to share with the neighbors….<o:p></o:p></div>
<br /></div>
<img alt="Signature" height="88" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpmAESmxAg8MxyiDOnyQFLqiedJ1kC3M27VEeNUw8a-fPU8N0IYKeP8a2Vf9d43IBeldke-rjiDmp1bptOD_7RBTuNQevv3w-wlh9hLYgRFoPPAzKCjpnHExGP6Ls0hbr1H683wXOd5o/s200/Megan-Signature2.png" title="Megan" width="200" />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-16521071592827171272014-08-04T09:03:00.000-04:002017-08-02T12:40:17.456-04:00Unpacking and Rediscovering Home <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I had forgotten how long it takes for a new city, a new
street…a new house to feel like home. For some, it may happen as soon as the
first box reveals something familiar to place on a shelf. For me...it takes a bit more. In fact, we lived in Lexington nearly a decade and it wasn't until
our last couple of years that everything finally ‘clicked.’ Relationships flourished,
our favorite dinner spots had been deemed, I knew what racks to hit at the shops
for the best sales, my secret parking spot downtown was always open for me, school
days and soccer schedules felt routine… things became…should I dare say, easy?</div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
But change is good, right?<br />
Right.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And my life is always FULL of change thanks to <a href="http://cakeandwhiskey.com/" target="_blank">this</a> daily bit of goodness. And because of that, home is one thing I’ve come to rely on for my ‘ease’
factor in life…when all else is in beautiful chaos and unpredictability.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But we said goodbye to Lexington nearly 6 months ago.
Goodbye to those routines and parking spots and great sale finds, weekly outings with girlfriends I didn't want to say goodbye to and to our favorite
take-out Chinese spot, Pete's Wok.<br />
And we headed off for a new city, a new street, a new
house. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx_mhz31onoFluey_l0LAjXmZnBJFETo6e-a7B1vZH4y1vADBu7NMvOx2SOB5JVz3SheNEVACxTBT2V2U-itiMVmM1Xa2_PbsrP1ED-p2vGVhR4vroUr3BPLn4mduVOFKeeGbE5woOhjo/s1600/home+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx_mhz31onoFluey_l0LAjXmZnBJFETo6e-a7B1vZH4y1vADBu7NMvOx2SOB5JVz3SheNEVACxTBT2V2U-itiMVmM1Xa2_PbsrP1ED-p2vGVhR4vroUr3BPLn4mduVOFKeeGbE5woOhjo/s1600/home+10.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ezra's rooster painting..one of my favorite things. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a name='more'></a>Our city is really quaint. Like Mayberry quaint. We have the
ice cream shop and the tea shop and the independent grocery store and even a
bonafide toy shop. (I’ll give you a tour someday soon.) <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our street is even more amazing. We have incredible
neighbors who offer us tools for our endless projects (getting to that…), bake
us bread, invite us for backyard barbecues, put our naughty escape-artist dogs back over the fence when they get out, chat with our kids and leave fresh
cucumbers on the front porch while we’re out running errands. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0cXLq0Y9Ph_eATJEccrCTKn1Nlu50meUg9EXZAcc9MIHochxveVJCCNKO4TkBTDH_u99AaF2HKn4gWNcCv2dYz7N1aCXjc0RwIJJpixXu9wY3uD8Wf8AixFxBn3m35glZoB-UM-meGmI/s1600/home+11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0cXLq0Y9Ph_eATJEccrCTKn1Nlu50meUg9EXZAcc9MIHochxveVJCCNKO4TkBTDH_u99AaF2HKn4gWNcCv2dYz7N1aCXjc0RwIJJpixXu9wY3uD8Wf8AixFxBn3m35glZoB-UM-meGmI/s1600/home+11.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The orange cone...the city beautification team has come to our street this week.<br />
Artwork~ AspenMark on Etsy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our house is a blessing. Because to complain about anything
that provides a roof over our head and shelter from storms and heat and cold
would be ridiculously bratty. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When we bought this 1920’s house, it hadn't been cared for
in many years. The care it did receive was surface level at best and that
caretaker must have really had a penchant for dark caramel color. Because no
wall or trim paint was given reprieve from its hue. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This singular element alone made me second guess the
purchase. I have since found out there are many many more that should have
caused me greater concern than poor design decisions.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Kitvbd_JdzcI2VGvX1BNE-YE7e_BWaxxHWxnJ5FjGpIBbJ1K_3qnMnunAEKgzwlSvq5opUvNoN8XJHmJbvtNk98OUvrbdfoC5cCXoqwNPIbqTWohKTSxTT310_N-nWh3MBMniXKLDTo/s1600/home+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Kitvbd_JdzcI2VGvX1BNE-YE7e_BWaxxHWxnJ5FjGpIBbJ1K_3qnMnunAEKgzwlSvq5opUvNoN8XJHmJbvtNk98OUvrbdfoC5cCXoqwNPIbqTWohKTSxTT310_N-nWh3MBMniXKLDTo/s1600/home+3.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VwKRnfTDKKbYTzQ9rtcJ_KHB0oQclfwiEF7AWYA4zp3tVGL6RFSHdCIGj1Y3l9QjiGCv-UcgzrVgXbfTdnFaLTZfMJbMFnz-AYVAig5aoQdMBJ0sQS2vcW2bKsaj0PNjjTwm-Iw7vWU/s1600/home+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VwKRnfTDKKbYTzQ9rtcJ_KHB0oQclfwiEF7AWYA4zp3tVGL6RFSHdCIGj1Y3l9QjiGCv-UcgzrVgXbfTdnFaLTZfMJbMFnz-AYVAig5aoQdMBJ0sQS2vcW2bKsaj0PNjjTwm-Iw7vWU/s1600/home+2.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I digress.<br />
<br />
Over the past 3 months, when not landing in a
new city to speak or have meetings, or I’m not in the office with interns or
hiking at the park with the boys, I am painting. Coat after coat after coat
after coat. I really have no fondness for painting at all. So this, my dears,
is a true labor of love and testament of my character. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
12 weeks later and the painting is nearly done. Two to three coats of paint
on every wall, window and door frame. Ceilings are next, I think I need a
professional for that. Two rooms left…we’ll tackle those someday down the road when my hand releases from its cramping. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But at least now I can breathe. Lightness is like air to my
creativity and productivity. Necessary, not optional. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And speaking of productivity....</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KbQmvCVvFMRKobJOCuQj9Vgb4AqIh7f1XuqvkjaePZ93OqwXE_cUMC2q4IMy3-l9T-HkI5SSqcFDDix9DRV4-4SO6QJl_1SBeL4-wdKtBfr7ptK8Ev1gKZ76zU56_SdiBk-AAR_FPMI/s1600/home+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KbQmvCVvFMRKobJOCuQj9Vgb4AqIh7f1XuqvkjaePZ93OqwXE_cUMC2q4IMy3-l9T-HkI5SSqcFDDix9DRV4-4SO6QJl_1SBeL4-wdKtBfr7ptK8Ev1gKZ76zU56_SdiBk-AAR_FPMI/s1600/home+7.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRvTGV49DL_y82V2Bc_eBkUhCn_40M2TnETZch15NbmyV1zGniZ0ezFucVzCs9MN9yOXYlLsIpM-zZVKe_Ng0TKa2ePtJuK22d9Z3VEsoqItWKKke29pzM9IxMKso8-P0StHrmTFdQJ_o/s1600/home+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRvTGV49DL_y82V2Bc_eBkUhCn_40M2TnETZch15NbmyV1zGniZ0ezFucVzCs9MN9yOXYlLsIpM-zZVKe_Ng0TKa2ePtJuK22d9Z3VEsoqItWKKke29pzM9IxMKso8-P0StHrmTFdQJ_o/s1600/home+8.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzcxe-tQ3Y1EKfELeCynLgfE9pAinkEO7pTWCZ5Rn0i1Hn9ojVTSDkpl7uULZ1Zd0mpu3EjGVP5dIcXp-yQLZB0VA9l4wcQYdc_B2hhdgtHLHjVYs4CGCuk5qflMFaBeNU-AqTXYafqAE/s1600/homen8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzcxe-tQ3Y1EKfELeCynLgfE9pAinkEO7pTWCZ5Rn0i1Hn9ojVTSDkpl7uULZ1Zd0mpu3EjGVP5dIcXp-yQLZB0VA9l4wcQYdc_B2hhdgtHLHjVYs4CGCuk5qflMFaBeNU-AqTXYafqAE/s1600/homen8.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
We gutted our kitchen down to the studs. GUTTED. We had no
clue what that would mean in actuality and some days I think the 1980’s IKEA
kitchen with bing cherry colored walls and black, white and mirrored tile back splash may have been
better than the discovery of faulty wiring and plumbing issues. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Its coming along slowly. The stove is a recent find, gifted
to us by our Realtor as a welcoming gift to our new house. Can you believe
that?! Seriously this is Mayberry, people.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Until last week we operated the new The Smith Homestead with
no sink, stove or oven. We are still sans oven/stove until the gas line gets
installed. Our meals are made on the grill most days. Or we eat simply with
salads and cereal and toast with peanut butter. And of course there's the local pizza place that we frequent far more than we should. <br />
<br />
We've never been
microwave people…that poses a challenge with reheating my crock pot steel cut
oats the following mornings. But we did finally invest in a little counter top
convection oven a couple of weeks ago. That has revolutionized meal time while
we lay flooring, smooth out drywall and install cabinets. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of course, no renovation would be complete without delays.
Our counter tops may never make their arrival….so we improvised and installed
plywood. Not just any plywood though…this
gem came from the base of Ezra’s bed in Lexington….it made the trek because
as we were moving we saw he had, at some point, crawled under his bed and with
red marker wrote “I love Isabelle.” It made us smile…and still does. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijm0a5GQ7hIJOGq22f6nGJx82AEnsK6kua7RkeF7eE1zZRTuJiIPErXw8xzEnQ8Mwo0Qvd9Cklj2B_56PeB2AiOEAaGO0nJuTOXQ4gylqhXlx4g-Se1oTzyDJwap5dhvIi8TOuLHhb_Eg/s1600/home+9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijm0a5GQ7hIJOGq22f6nGJx82AEnsK6kua7RkeF7eE1zZRTuJiIPErXw8xzEnQ8Mwo0Qvd9Cklj2B_56PeB2AiOEAaGO0nJuTOXQ4gylqhXlx4g-Se1oTzyDJwap5dhvIi8TOuLHhb_Eg/s1600/home+9.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Mayberry still doesn’t quite feel like home yet. Neither
does the new Smith Homestead. Mike always turns the wrong way on our street
coming home and I can’t remember the names of some of my neighbors even though
they know mine (that drives me nuts.) We did find good Chinese though. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Slowly the boxes are getting unpacked and this little house
of ours is getting the first touches of home. The most important of those being memories and relationships…which I have to keep reminding myself will take time to build. </div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgML6XbFVTmk1wf8kwzechsVWp04umFuKLlTtu_GeCUVDxAKslbqJQcTs1vMPH9HmSlKEcJPjTX5c0H-PlEN1rKLzH04uoSiEszdQNeBQZkrReUwpXAJkY_MDxFHDmsErVaSSBkc3TNX9Y/s1600/DSC_8790.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgML6XbFVTmk1wf8kwzechsVWp04umFuKLlTtu_GeCUVDxAKslbqJQcTs1vMPH9HmSlKEcJPjTX5c0H-PlEN1rKLzH04uoSiEszdQNeBQZkrReUwpXAJkY_MDxFHDmsErVaSSBkc3TNX9Y/s1600/DSC_8790.jpg" /></a></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXLaT3plBA-3RPKrBNFzQHqMz19k4wcQsAMnBm3SCNez0b9Co5vTiCKWalGvaBRhr6fgTqbWTuinqVF0lpcCqe1V3QvyrSdEMNTN8zzTJwqoFsqv8ZBJvsuyCGhTrK0SHDkjwRbqjA8yo/s1600/home+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXLaT3plBA-3RPKrBNFzQHqMz19k4wcQsAMnBm3SCNez0b9Co5vTiCKWalGvaBRhr6fgTqbWTuinqVF0lpcCqe1V3QvyrSdEMNTN8zzTJwqoFsqv8ZBJvsuyCGhTrK0SHDkjwRbqjA8yo/s1600/home+5.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even in the kitchen mess...a small spot of organization and beauty is a must. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ2DpBPOEsQfEdNVzz9cir8ZXcjZQQ6n4lTxD50LfxB7VDOhfa2CKL4mlL33pBpXeYqniEJVWVM36kBCzKG01pEA6YB-LKMr9PX6_0CobfGidMxXShF047kl3i9TnF3UpUaF2uzBMoUms/s1600/house+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ2DpBPOEsQfEdNVzz9cir8ZXcjZQQ6n4lTxD50LfxB7VDOhfa2CKL4mlL33pBpXeYqniEJVWVM36kBCzKG01pEA6YB-LKMr9PX6_0CobfGidMxXShF047kl3i9TnF3UpUaF2uzBMoUms/s1600/house+2.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwcqxm1Qfu71vkVFj-Ufx3seQ0q6JYei30ZzgWzsZRoqmKkEJLhVsI6b9iotsuZIr99pjy0mhdJJ4ST7ZHcVDOpG13muwrsSjN3G6Og5dAjmcouLy1Njaexdu4CLRYwW21Qu9AD2EccCI/s1600/house+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwcqxm1Qfu71vkVFj-Ufx3seQ0q6JYei30ZzgWzsZRoqmKkEJLhVsI6b9iotsuZIr99pjy0mhdJJ4ST7ZHcVDOpG13muwrsSjN3G6Og5dAjmcouLy1Njaexdu4CLRYwW21Qu9AD2EccCI/s1600/house+3.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Our morning breakfasts at our long farm table, games
of Sorry and Clue (our new summer favorites), Otto’s endless laps around the
downstairs with Sherlock and Watson at his heels, early morning coffee and late
night peppermint tea in our tiny corner bedroom…this
is the good stuff. This is becoming home.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnpMhQkDtnKkwoCn96XfJUUrvrPb5RaLjcnrWZgh1DWQHjLC5ukjnB6gr-TupGWV91jBSi5DlPGXJRjd_7YWe7hvsFf606XODoFYiq9SYWO0s40WzFsk1umBFYiOoYC-_xGF0RNvBEyk/s1600/house+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnpMhQkDtnKkwoCn96XfJUUrvrPb5RaLjcnrWZgh1DWQHjLC5ukjnB6gr-TupGWV91jBSi5DlPGXJRjd_7YWe7hvsFf606XODoFYiq9SYWO0s40WzFsk1umBFYiOoYC-_xGF0RNvBEyk/s1600/house+1.jpg" /></a></div>
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</div><img alt="Signature" height="88" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpmAESmxAg8MxyiDOnyQFLqiedJ1kC3M27VEeNUw8a-fPU8N0IYKeP8a2Vf9d43IBeldke-rjiDmp1bptOD_7RBTuNQevv3w-wlh9hLYgRFoPPAzKCjpnHExGP6Ls0hbr1H683wXOd5o/s200/Megan-Signature2.png" title="Megan" width="200" />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-42272720760251137772014-07-11T18:30:00.000-04:002017-08-02T12:40:34.815-04:00From Concrete Jungle to Canvas Yurt<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It was on the flight home from NYC that I called Mike on a whim and asked him to book the boys and I a three night stay in a yurt. <br />
Meetings at Tory Burch's headquarters, fancy dinners near Union Square and turnaround trips to Connecticut via train are <em>totally</em> up my alley. Just as much as dirt under my fingernails, smoke laden hair and curling up in a damp sleeping bag is. <br />
I'm a Gemini after all ;) <br />
<br />
The plane flight home...as many have been recently...was delayed. And after three days of meetings (upwards of 6 a day) and 23 days of consecutive work (not something I make a practice of), my soul was letting me know that it was time for a break. Plus, my eyelashes needed to come up for air after a marathon of mascara smothering and my feet needed reprieve from wedge heels. <br />
<br />
Sitting on the runway, I texted Mike. It was 4:45 on a Friday. 15 minutes left in the week to call a state park to book a camping spot for Monday morning. <br />
<br />
The boys and I (sometimes with Mike, sometimes without~ depending on his work schedule) love to camp. Always in a tent. But since my time in Mongolia 14 years ago, I've wanted to stay again in a yurt (pronounced "ger" when in Mongolia.) The state parks here in Ohio have a few for rent...and lucky us, one within an hour's drive. <br />
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Mr. Johnny-on-the-spot (Mike, that is) booked it before the EOD and by Sunday evening we were all moving our graham crackers and Hershey's, board games and crafts, sweatshirts and bug spray and flashlights and books into our yurt for a few days in the woods. <br />
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We had dad there for night one. A treat for us all. And then the boys and I settled in for what would become a camping trip of epic proportions. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDJHMc6sr1Z6uyNrp1pBRF1lxDKaszvjl4vbC4r2uqWoWJHwHh-FavtSnvnZ1chGESY-_fW3WU9U9Mkq8S2ADWVwCgjCnNj0SZ61MX91GLuoYO3c6qh_OmAJf3ZtRj7On7kKu3N7LQ6bs/s1600/Yurt+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDJHMc6sr1Z6uyNrp1pBRF1lxDKaszvjl4vbC4r2uqWoWJHwHh-FavtSnvnZ1chGESY-_fW3WU9U9Mkq8S2ADWVwCgjCnNj0SZ61MX91GLuoYO3c6qh_OmAJf3ZtRj7On7kKu3N7LQ6bs/s1600/Yurt+7.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Promptly after this series of pictures, my camera battery died. And I had limited phone reception...which was <br />
perfectly fine with me. Unplugged few days. Memory...just don't fail me. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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There was rain. Loads of it. <br />
<br />
Hence there was Monopoly playing. Loads of that too thanks to the rain pattering on our canvas roof.<br />
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We savored the moments of sun and breeze while making felted animals from wool, painting, hiking and writing letters to friends and family around the country. <br />
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There was Otto. Who never ceases to be totally over the top. OVER THE TOP! (sidenote...today he called Mike in Nordstrom Rack with my phone and started the conversation, " <em>Forget about it</em> (insert Bronx accent). <em>You're forticulous</em>." (his word for ridiculous.)<br />
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There was Ezra. Our amazing fire builder. <br />
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And there was Canaan. Our always on-site safety expert and order keeper. <br />
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All three of these boys drove me absolutely batty at times over the course of those three days. And all three made my heart swell with pride at the men they are becoming and the friendship we all share.<br />
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Our little yurt....which Canaan squealed upon arrival with "ITS PERFECT!!!" ...was just what we Smith's needed. <br />
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Just what this Gemini needed. <br />
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</div><img alt="Signature" height="88" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpmAESmxAg8MxyiDOnyQFLqiedJ1kC3M27VEeNUw8a-fPU8N0IYKeP8a2Vf9d43IBeldke-rjiDmp1bptOD_7RBTuNQevv3w-wlh9hLYgRFoPPAzKCjpnHExGP6Ls0hbr1H683wXOd5o/s200/Megan-Signature2.png" title="Megan" width="200" />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-2599253367784664952014-07-03T10:31:00.002-04:002017-08-02T12:40:53.416-04:00Giving Myself Permission. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">It’s a muggy one in NYC today where I write my first post in
months from a little table at Le Pain Quotidien at 44<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> and 3<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">rd</span></sup>.
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I feel like I should start this post out with apologies…followed
by explanations…followed by recounts and updates on life as I now know it that
has ultimately kept me away from moments here on my treasured piece of blogland.
</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">But I think I’ll actually forgo the apologies and explanations.
Because I think you understand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Life has ebb and flow and seasons and moments in the journey
that require us to sometimes do a 180 degree turn in another direction and give
our all to something else. That’s where I’ve been. Giving my all to something
wonderful, knowing that this little space of mine in blogsphere hasn’t left….its
waiting for my return and I’m feeling its tug for reconnection to its simplicity
and its grounding more everyday. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I said I wouldn’t do apologies and explanations…BUT what I
will do is give an update on life as I now know it:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The Smith Homestead has taken up roots and moved to Ohio. I’m
back to the motherland after nearly 15 years away. That little idea of a
magazine I had a couple of years ago called <a href="http://cakenwhiskey.com/store-2/" target="_blank"><strong>CAKE&WHISKEY</strong></a> is growing…thriving!
I get giddy thinking about it and humbled by it. Its mission is something that at its very core impacts lives and moves people to a place of authenticity and
connectivity to others and themselves in a world of disconnect and falsity. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Canaan is now 11. Ezra is 8. Otto is 4. They are more handsome
everyday. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Never has another child made me laugh more than Otto. I don’t
want him to grow up. Seriously. Its so tough watching that happen. I think he
should be cloned as he is the most perfectly maddening and irresistible child
imaginable. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Ezra, with his sweet freckles and soccer ball constantly at
his feet, gives me the full dose of ‘all boy’. He broke his arm over Easter.
Surgery and the whole bit. Tough stuff for a little guy who ended up having to
miss soccer season entirely. When I start in on a mom lecture with Ezra, his
eyes glaze over and he starts saying, almost mantra style “uh huh, uh huh…” It
makes me smile. And reminds me that sometimes a kid just wants the cliff notes
version and to be on with the day. (Canaan ALWAYS preferred the 1 hour back and
forth lecture/discussion.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Our relationship with Canaan is making that subtle (and
sometimes not-so-subtle) transition from simply ‘child who follows the rules’
to ‘independent thinker who has a valuable opinion that we should take into
account’. I actually love this stage much more than I thought I would. It’s
rewarding as a parent to give him more freedom, watch him both flourish and
stumble and recover and still rely on the anchor and safety and unconditional love
of home. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Mike and I celebrated our 15 year anniversary in January.
And to keep it all brief but honest…over the past 2 years, Mike and I
discovered the depths of marital un-bliss (that hyphenated word is the biggest understatement
of this blogs life, for the record). We hear this isn’t uncommon at this stage
in the journey…but<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>oh, my. That’s the
stuff that’ll make or break you as a person and a family. And thankfully, it
did end up making us and continues to makes us better than that initial marital
bliss of the early years. So….if you are wading through the thick of it. I’ve
been there. Drop me a line. We can chat it out over a shared slice of cake
across the table or across the miles.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">We have bought a 1920’s home in a small sleepy town in Ohio.
And its becoming a bit more than we bargained for. So likely, as I dive back
into the land of Art of Homemaking here and there, you’ll get a glimpse into
the happenings at our own version of This Old House. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Speaking of that domestic goodness that fills my creative bucket…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">On the cooking front...when not in NYC or DC you'll find my nose in a cookbook or whipping up something in our makeshift summer kitchen. My true kitchen is torn down to the studs, so cooking or baking nowadays usually involves a griddle or
grill. And </span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I have a seriously uh-ma-zing recipe to share soon…maybe I’ll tackle that
this week. Hold me to it! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I haven’t sewn in a few (many few) months. But there’s some
crafting action about to start up again…my fingertips are missing needle
pricks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">We spend loads of time outdoors right now. Tennis, hiking, picnicking,
kayaking, frolicking on lakefronts and exploring our new town. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">And I do travel away from home more… NYC mostly. And although four years
ago I couldn’t have dreamed up a scenario in which I was sitting, having coffee
and oats by Grand Central Terminal alone after 3 grueling days of meetings, it really IS
dreamy to be here in this moment. Yes, I miss those kiddos desperately and
Mike even more so. Choosing whether to venture from the hotel for dinner at 9pm
or just sleep because rest seems more necessary than meeting the calorie
consumption I missed by only eating a beet and arugula salad at a lunch meeting…
that feels a far cry from sewing marathons at the kitchen table with a pie
baking in the oven and the kids playing Uno in the next room over. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">But in reality, I do still get those times. Just less
frequent than before. But that’s not a bad thing. Pie everyday isn’t so good
for the blood sugar levels, anyhow.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">My phone goes off on the weekends (I’m not ignoring your
texts, friends and family!) and I keep an office away from home now so the
Smith Homestead has once again become simply, home. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Any entrepreneur knows the demands of time and focus that creating something
requires in the early stages. I can see how easy it would be to slip into that
pattern long term…I’ve been tempted to dip my toe into that high productivity, all-else-takes-a-backseat world. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">But I said 'no' to the temptation. And I'm so proud of myself for giving myself permission to do that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Today I’ll head home after a glorious week doing the work I love. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Next week spend some time camping with those three amazing boys. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The days are long but the years are short. </span></div>
</div><img alt="Signature" height="88" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpmAESmxAg8MxyiDOnyQFLqiedJ1kC3M27VEeNUw8a-fPU8N0IYKeP8a2Vf9d43IBeldke-rjiDmp1bptOD_7RBTuNQevv3w-wlh9hLYgRFoPPAzKCjpnHExGP6Ls0hbr1H683wXOd5o/s200/Megan-Signature2.png" title="Megan" width="200" />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-92024949761192831102014-03-16T18:11:00.001-04:002017-08-02T12:42:14.474-04:00Trading The Smith Homestead for a Hotel (for now)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
2013 was a pretty crazy year. And by pretty...I mean insanely. And then we met 2014...and you multiply that "insanely" by 467 and you might be in the ballpark of what life looks like nowadays. In every aspect.<br />
But I guess in most respects, we have never really lived a "normal" life. We've crammed about 10 lifetimes into this 15 year marriage and there seems to be no slowing down on the amazing adventure.<br />
So when I tell people that we live a life of simplicity~ it doesn't usually compute properly. But for us, life is rather simple. We surround ourselves with joy and forgo clutter. We tackle projects and goals that are in line with our passions and purpose in life, nothing that derails or over complicates the big picture. We keep our schedules streamlined, keeping family time as the priority...and to us, that's about as simple and beautiful as life can get.<br />
Almost two weeks ago we said goodbye to our homestead. That little home just on the outskirts of downtown came to be the heart of our family and our community of friends. It was a painful goodbye. Maybe a bit more than we had anticipated since we didn't have that next homestead to look forward to.<br />
With the closing papers signed we said goodbye to Lexington and took the biggest leap we've taken as a family to date. We moved to Ohio~ following Mike and his career. The past week has been a blur. Enrolling kids in school, inspections on a house we hope to buy, living in a hotel for the foreseeable future, operating the magazine from wherever I can capture WiFi, giving Mike the time and space to get his feet wet in his new job, coming alongside the kids with words of encouragement and help as they make new friends and dive head first into these life changes with us.<br />
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For now....the hotel is our home. Simplicity to the max. And truly, it couldn't be more perfect. Our room has become like this little cocoon of ease and reprieve for our family. Each morning we wake up and stumble down the hallway for a hot breakfast and coffee before heading off for school. And we spend each evening watching Food Network, swimming and sleeping soundly with the same four walls around us. Between those times, we have maid service ;)<br />
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I never thought living in a hotel for nearly a month would be so....necessary right now. But nothing could be more so. The whirlwind of the past 2 months has been incredibly chaotic and as much as I thought I wanted to just swiftly move into a new home in our new town, I wouldn't trade these days and weeks of solitude in our corner of the hotel for anything. Choosing paint colors, unpacking boxes, setting up bed frames and filling a refrigerator can definitely wait. Because getting to explore a new town with these boys without the lingering house-unpacking-to-do list is absolutely the best idea we've had in a long time...<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-34877195623616493352014-02-03T21:44:00.001-05:002017-08-02T12:42:44.643-04:00Thin, Cracker Crust Pizza and the Snow Day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Snow days are a rarity for my boys. Partially because we live in Lexington, Kentucky~ not Detroit, Michigan and partially because their school just rarely shuts down for weather. At any rate...today was one of those rare days. A snow day.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the birdhouse Mike's dad made many years ago</td></tr>
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I LOVED snow days as a kid, yet in all honestly can't recall what I did on one of them as I sit here writing about it. They say children who are raised as only children (me) have a hard time with childhood memories. They have no siblings to continually recount things to or play back over and over again. Makes total sense because I seriously come up empty on most of my childhood years...including snow days. But I do remember those giddy feelings nonetheless.<br />
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Now I am a mom of three boys and snow days are both exhilarating and exhausting. It literally takes 45 minutes to hunt down boots, gloves (never matching), coats, scarves....just to send them outside for 15 minutes before they are back at the door, red-cheeked and fuming that a brother has pelted another with a snowball to the face. ...that's the exhausting part.<br />
The exhilarating part is definitely #1 sleeping in (me) #2 making a big breakfast #3 wearing pajamas all day #4 loads of cuddles on the couch, board games and endless snacking.<br />
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Today was no exception. Add to the mix packing boxes for a move (I'll save that for a later post...yes, we're moving!) there is little left sacred and serene in the house anymore. But I do hold tight to a few...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjLXZvpMMCgqQYPP-QEI4lBEp_4hQ7Bj3O6GSg5Ct7pJ2GQQa6EpTBjyRySI9OVc3eiQUdj6_J5EWCF-IRYuvP6W4va1BXuNOTdQ_Ni4JJ8bip0KgP0BF_OMPV2LqpVI-t-bKymCcON8Y/s1600/snow+day+blog+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjLXZvpMMCgqQYPP-QEI4lBEp_4hQ7Bj3O6GSg5Ct7pJ2GQQa6EpTBjyRySI9OVc3eiQUdj6_J5EWCF-IRYuvP6W4va1BXuNOTdQ_Ni4JJ8bip0KgP0BF_OMPV2LqpVI-t-bKymCcON8Y/s1600/snow+day+blog+5.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can't bear to pack up the rock collection yet...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My recent painting of 'Goodnight Moon' along with memories from my 2013 trips</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loads of roaring fires in the fireplace, piles of quilts and our favorite antiques keep us warm and happy</td></tr>
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Otto spent his snow day as he spends most days. Discovering music on Spotify. Both a fantastic and sometimes not so fantastic thing depending on the genre he discovers at the time. This boy was born with music in his soul.<br />
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And Jameson the bunny has new digs in an old antique record cabinet that is now his cozy home. He is litter trained so he is free to hop about, but loves his posh rabbit hole....especially on snow days.<br />
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Now onto the snacking part of our snow day. Pizza.<br />
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For those of you who call yourself a friend of mine, if asked in a trivia round what Megan Smith's favorite food is, you would answer...pizza. Thick, thin, round square, spicy, sweet, loaded, naked, authentic, sub-par...I really just don't care. If it has the resemblance of pizza, I'm game.<br />
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With that said, I'm always on the hunt to perfect pizza. The most recent of which is the crispy, cracker-like pizza crust. Thankfully (or not so thankfully) it didn't take many experimental rounds to find the ultimate one. And to boot? Its so flipping easy you can pretty much do it with your eyes closed.<br />
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Two days ago my fridge was empty. Empty to the point where you open it and close it three seconds later and declare, 'we have no food in this house.' Those times, my dears, are the absolute best times to create great food. This time was no exception. The pizza we created that night was pure, empty- fridge genius. The ingredients may freak you out a bit...don't let them.<br />
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<u><b>The Best Damn Pizza With No Clever Name </b></u><br />
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Pizza Crust<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Preheat oven to 500 degrees. If you have a pizza stone, preheat that as well. Make sure the rack is on the lowest rung of your oven. </span><br />
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1. Dissolve the yeast in the warm water. Combine the flour and salt in the bowl of a standing mixer or in a large glass bowl. Add the water/yeast mixture. If using a standing mixer, attach the dough hook and turn on low to combine the ingredients into a dough ball. If doing by hand (my favorite way), use a wooden spoon to combine the ingredients into a shaggy dough ball. Dump onto a floured surface and knead until smooth about 5 minutes. <br />
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2. Once you have a uniform, smooth ball of dough, cut the dough in half and shape each half into a ball. Place both on a floured counter top, cover with a towel and let it rest for 5-10 minutes.<br />
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3. Cut 2 pieces of parchment paper, approx. 15 by 15 inches (I'm loving the pre-cut parchment now widely available). Place one of the dough balls on the parchment and begin rolling it into some sort of shape....yes, circular would be ideal...this is not easily achievable. If yours looks more like the state of Oklahoma, don't beat yourself up. Embrace it and move on. This dough should be thin...I mean PAPER THIN. Use your hands if you prefer~ I like the weight I can apply with a rolling pin but its ultimately up to you. You shouldn't need flour to do this stage. You sort of want your dough to adhere to the parchment.<br />
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4. Once you have a flat pizza dough (just pinch together any holes that may occur...no biggie), take a flat cookie sheet and slide it under the paper. Use this to transfer the pizza dough to the preheated oven. If you have a pizza stone, slide it on the stone. If not, slide the paper/dough directly onto the oven rack. Set a timer for 2 minutes...no more, no less.<br />
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5. After 2 minutes remove the pizza crust from the oven the same way you put it in...by sliding a cookie sheet under it. See how it is puffing up? Creating those little air pockets that will become ultimate crunchiness?! Now its time for toppings... <br />
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Toppings for the best damn pizza ever:<br />
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A little pool of <b>olive oil</b>. Use a pastry brush to spread this edge to edge.<br />
<b>Sea salt</b>. Sprinkle over the olive oil<br />
Julienne <b>spinach leaves</b>. Sprinkle on top of the salt. <br />
Crumble <b>goat cheese</b> next. <br />
And here's the magic....<br />
Warm about 1/4 cup of <b>Red Pepper Jelly</b> (we use Trader Joe's brand) in the microwave for 20 seconds. Pour in a fancy zig zag pattern the warm (pourable) jelly over the pizza, edge to edge. <br />
Sprinkle the finished pizza with<b> basil, oregano</b>...anything dried and green that looks like it could be on Italian food.<br />
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6. Sliding the cookie pan back under the finished pie, put the topped pizza back in the oven. Set a timer for 5 minutes. After 5 minutes, check the progress. I like mine pretty darn crunchy so I look for some nice browning on the edges. Its totally up to you from the 5 minute mark on.<br />
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7. Once you have the pièce de résistance you're hoping for, remove it from the oven carefully and let it rest. LET IT REST for goodness sakes! You will burn the roof of your mouth off if you don't follow this step.<br />
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8. And finally....eat! Seriously you can have a thin crust pizza together, start to finish, in about 30 minutes or less. This makes 2 pizzas so have fun experimenting. I also made the boys a cheese and summer sausage (leftover link from the holidays) pizza. Both pizza's were scarfed down in less than 6 minutes.<br />
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<i><b><br /></b></i>
And for the record...this is the real Smith Homestead on a snow day. Nothing but absolute crazy, discombobulated goodness. <br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13735561671671368628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4756698690636129266.post-67981147661873182612014-01-29T11:00:00.004-05:002017-08-02T12:44:45.385-04:00Morgan Day Cecil<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
Years ago I met someone. One of those people you wonder where they've been all your life. One of those people that literally light up a room and when they leave you want to follow them to stay close to that light.<br />
That is Morgan. She's like this illuminating presence of everything inspiring and heartfelt and honest and real. She has been on a journey unlike most I have ever met. She has waded through the depths of valleys that many of us will never venture to (thank God) and has come through each as a testament that we can overcome trials more radiant, beautiful, graceful and loving than we ever imagined possible. <br />
<br />
Now Morgan lives thousands of miles away from me. But I am continually inspired by her through her Instagram shots, her Romance & Adventure <span style="color: #76a5af;"><a href="http://www.morgandaycecil.com/" target="_blank">blog posts</a></span>, her endeavors and the goodies in her Etsy shop <span style="color: #45818e;"><a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/MaidservantOf" target="_blank"><i><b>Maidservant of Encouragement</b></i>. </a></span><br />
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I swoon over the designs she creates and think you will too. Until Feb. 6th <b><i>here is your buy-one get-one free coupon coupon code: <span style="color: #e06666;">HIPHOME. </span></i></b><br />
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