In the Name of Comfort and All Its Formats

This was supposed to be a post about plums and oatmeal. As you might have already guessed by that auspicious beginning, that's not an exact representation anymore. Now this is a post about comfort. About the ease of breath that happens when your molecules slow down.

Of course, food can do that to us...comfort food is a real thing. I'd be curious to know what does it for you but in my world it's banana bread in the oven, onions caramelizing on the stove, citrus being zested and cinnamon in anything. All four set me at immediate ease and I take my life in a little deeper with their cues.

I had a five star, five senses comfortable weekend. This is one of those posts that might be more for me to have a record of than it has much to offer anyone else but I needed to put it down just the same. From the weather to the company to the lack of company to the feasts, I don't know that it could have been improved upon.

Since I can't find a way to eloquently share the bones of it, I'm making myself an outline at the bottom of this post for the truly curious. The short of it is that it had a lot of my favorite people, many of whom I just don't see much of and in whose presence my molecules ease up. As one of those people who occasionally forgets to breathe, I am so very into this.

At the risk of getting spectacularly sappy, this guy is one of them. I took this at Salvage One this afternoon during our (straight up successful) treasure hunt through Grand's vintage corridor. I realized tonight that I hadn't said anything here in the official online outpost but Brother is an official resident of the Chicagoland area for the next two years and I am breathing in a different way just coming to terms with that.

It's not like we'll see that much of each other, we won't. I know that, I truly do. But I've been living a plane ride from my family for 10 years and while I miss them, it's just a fact to which I got accustomed. I typically see them three times per year. Four if I'm really lucky. And even with a lot of friends who live close enough to have Sunday dinner with their parents or take sisters for a birthday lunch, it just wasn't my reality.

And now one of my favorite people is here and I can feel a different sort of root take hold. If things get dark, or even just a little gray, I have family a 15 minute train away. Or forget gray, an extra ticket to the Nice Cream benefit at a local brewery. Or the same seatmate for a live NPR show who's been sitting next to you listening in the backseat for 25 years. That still seems so wholly remarkable.

So the weekend was a wonder. Filled with the friends who are family and the family who's a friend and enough quiet time to myself to be grateful for the whole shebang. It's a true comfort for someone who didn't realize she needed comforting. Sappy, overindulgent weekend post achieved. Sorry I'm not sorry. At least I saved you from a title trying to riff on the word aplomb, only about breakfast :)

Steel Cut Oatmeal with Fresh Plumbs

• 11/4 cup water
• 1/3 cup steel cut oats
• 2 Tablespoons bran meal
• 2 Tablespoons flax meal
• 1/2 teaspoon salt (I used the BLiS vanilla salt pictured above but only because it is the spice I am most likely to start dating at the moment)
• Pinch of cinnamon
• 1 Tablespoon of maple syrup (I used BLiS bourbon barrel aged maple syrup but only because it is the condiment I am most likely to start dating at the moment)
• 1 Tablespoon of half and half
• 4-5 small fresh plums cut in half and pitted

1. Boil your water.
2. Add oats, bran, flax and salt. Lower heat to a simmer and stir every couple minutes till desired consistency is reached. This is usually about 12-15 minutes for me.
3. Add your cinnamon then spoon oat mixture out into your favorite breakfast bowl du jour.
4. Sprinkle cinnamon over the top then drizzle maple syrup over the top.
5. Pile on those beautiful plums and trace the edge of the oatmeal with the half and half.
6. Take a deep breath with nose directly over the bowl and enjoy not being hungry until well into the lunching hour.

Weekend in Review

Friday: Portabella/Garlic Tempeh Burger take-out from Native Foods, ridiculously good new vegan place just up Milwaukee. Eaten with a glass of wine while watching Before Sunrise and Before Sunset which have now both made my top 25 movies. Celine's monologue from the car scene in Before Sunset just about killed me.

Saturday: Started with a sweatfest. So much so that it was physically difficult to ride a bike that day. Kind've a beautiful thing. From there, the annual scrub at Paradise which comes with velvety soft skin and the reminder to be brave. Then off to the Food Truck Social for ceviche and tan lines with ZP and Emili. Just enough to hold me for JB's alfresco birthday dinner at Due Lire with a whole host of fun folk. A few glasses of wine floated me to 5 Star to crash G's big date (by invitation, bien sur) and meet up with Suz. Who then scooted me in brave attire for two wheels to Rainbo where the night/morning finished up.

Sunday: Starts with the discovery of buttermilk on its last legs, leading to blueberry pancakes in great company. A little organization before heading to Floriole for a light lunch with Ellie followed by the movies. Picked up at the theater by Brother and off we went, trolling for a Mid Century Modern coffee table on a grad student budget. Post 27, Urban Remains, Salvage One...all the good stuff. We found exactly what we needed, fell in love with significantly more along the way and then headed north to Revolution Brewery and the Nice Cream Benefit. So many good things/people in one place. Brother dropped me off with my adoptive Chicago family for a glass of wine with the Dawsons & Co at Mana.

Balsamic Roasted Plums, a Burglary and a Birthday

Ah yes, one of those things is not like the other. I'll get there.

Above we have a scene from the kitchen during tonight's Monday meal prep. Karyn ran over from Old Town, showered and spent the rest of her birthday dinner in her birthday suit and a very stylish towel wrap. Gina came straight from training but skipped the shower. Joner was a frock-rocking basil-tearing machine and Bec wore one of my oversize buttondowns around, buttoned all the way up as mosquito/frosting protection.

I'd put the picture up but I think I need approval on that one first.

Menu:

• Zucchini fritters with yogurt and apricot jam
• Mixed greens with balsamic roasted plums and blue cheese*
• Pork scallopini (Divina Cucina style=fennel pollen!)
• Pappardelle with heirloom tomatoes and fresh pesto
• Chocolate Cake with Guiness poured over the top

I'm grateful for beautiful nights like this one. I snuck off to the downtown farm stand to grab beautiful plums at lunch was home in time to head to the butcher shop. I've made that chocolate cake so many times that I think I could do it blindfolded and the rest...while creating a breathtaking path of dishes and destruction...came together simply. We ate outside in the magic garden and I just needed that.

It's been an interesting seven days. My apartment was broken into, my laptop and iPods stolen and some peace of mind taken along with them. I am a tough cookie most of the time but knowing someone was in my home is jarring. Even though it could have been a whole lot worse (I wasn't there at the time), I still feel violated. And pissed, if we're being candid. Five separate friends offered HC and I a place to stay that night and all I could think of was straight, stubborn, crimson fury.

A planned work trip got me out of town for the weekend and it was truly awesome. I still wasn't feeling quite myself but Philadelphia with a bunch of professional optimists and an old school partner in crime were the best kinds of distractions.

Police reports filed, fingerprints collected and now we wait. It's not the first time I've been here but that doesn't make it easier. Some simple precautions like new windows, fresh locks do wonders but having a house full of people who love you and the smells that go along with that are the fastest ways to restore order to my world. Monday mission accomplished.

I lied about the picture. I'm sorry, friends. It was too perfect. I love you enough to delete it later if you want to raise a protest.

A chocolate beer cake cheers to houses that feel like home and to the people that fill them with light. Dinner was very much in Karyn's honor tonight but I'm definitely going to bed feeling gifted.

Balsamic Roasted Plums

6 small, ripe plums

2 tablespoons good balsamic vinegar

Smoked salt to taste

Rinse and dry your plums then cut them in half, removing the pit. Toss in balsamic in a glass baking dish and top with a pinch of smoked salt. Roast at 375 for 4-5 minutes. I don't even know that this counts as a recipe, it's that easy.

Serve over mixed greens with blue cheese and just pour your roasting juices from the plums over the salad as a dressing. It's a delight.

Why Violet, You're Turning Violet! A Wicked Vegetable Patch Update

Summer is really kicking up now and the garden is starting to look a lot like Mardi Gras. Less in the way of beads, boobs and blackouts and more in the sense that there is a lot of purple, green and gold out there. It's lovely. I've even started to mimic it in my meals- Pesto and spinach stuffed, grilled portabellas topped with goat cheese, purple/green salad, roasted kaleidoscope carrots an a bowl of spicy cucumber soup. Molly's welcome home dinner and several key ingredients were pulled straight out of the Wicked Park backyard which just makes my heart happy.

Onto the actual update. I went a little nuts this year and when Bruce had several extra tomato seedlings, I went from a planned eight plants to eleven. I say this having just adopted a 12th from my neighbor Sam who had little cherries growing wild.

I can say it. I'm a tomato-aholic. I fuss over them first thing every morning and occasionally visit them at night as well. And now that all twelve have erupted into yellow blossoms and tiny green fruits, I don't even attempt to contain my glee in their presence.

"Look at you! You're a wonder, Black Krim! You remind me of a pumpkin. A pumpkin that will be fully appreciated sliced with krimped edges with a soft burrata. Keep up the excellent work- you should be really proud of yourself."

"And you, little black cherry. A natural overachiever. The first to ripen and surely the first treasure to be plucked and enjoyed without ever making it inside the kitchen. I just can't tell you how much I've enjoyed watching you develop. I know you have a lot of wonderful gifts to share in the future."

Yes, I really do talk to them. The benefit of doing my fussing at 5:30-ish is that no one else is up to wonder at my rambling. In the spirit of full disclosure though, we have had one bit of disappointment. One of my San Marzano plants is afflicted with blossom end rot. Wretched little illness that can really put a dent in a tomato yield. Never fear though, I think some extra calcium and a good series of pep talks should help to clear it up.

Beyond tomatoes, I did mention purple. I'm not kidding- I think it's the Wicked Patch's favorite color. These towers of leafy ruffles are called Jester lettuce and will be growing more next year.

It's delicious and sets of a wooden bowl of salad just so. Grows like a weed too, which works out well.
Ah yes, the Black Beauty eggplant has returned. Key learning from last year was that eggplant doesn't mind our garden's heavy clay soil so I trimmed down from four seriously overproducing plants last year to two this year.

The second of my eggplants is called a Listada de Gandia. I'm convinced I need a dress in this print and it's even prettier in person. I would love any recommendations for recipes that might maintain the look of that gorgeous exterior in a finished product.

The passion for purple has not limited itself to Ground+. Not at all- here's some young hard neck garlic that's taken on deep purple clove casings beneath the white paper exterior. Did I mention young purple garlic is delicious? I used it to make the pesto in the stuffed portabellas at top.

"Red onion" has always struck me as a bit of a misnomer. They are purple to the point of being practically lilac on the inside. And oh my do they taste good caramelized. Clean Out the Fridge Pasta- post coming soon.

Once I wrapped the photo session in my own patch, I walked across to see if I could finagle some eggs for breakfast from our local chickens. I was a little early for them but they came out to say hi anyway.
Have I mentioned how much I love this neighborhood?

The Garden of Good & Evil: Year Three and an Ode to the Eves

These were the leftovers if that tells you anything about the kind of party it was.

And this was the evolution of the spread if that tells you anything about what kind of party it was.
And the two singing and dancing lovemuppets were my co-celebrants if that tells you anything about what kind of party it was.

It was supposed to rain all day long and we never felt a drop. Equal numbers of friends showed up in yoga pants as in maxi dresses. Both claiming room for cake. Two different pitchers of alcoholic nectar and a jug of cucumber water never seemed to run out. Stevie Nicks was on rotation with Animal Collective and the potatoes I roasted when I was perhaps a little toasted came out perfectly. That's what kind of party it was.

The Garden of Good & Evil party is an annual ode to my girlfriends disguised as my birthday party. The first two years I co-hosted with my much beloved friend Caroline who is now living in Telluride. I got really lucky this year when it turned out two kindred spirits who also happened to be Geminis liked the concept. And so. Hadley came bearing the best mango salsa and homemade hummus and craft supplies. Molly L brought cheese plate skewers and a general's eye for detail (that's her supervising the hanging of paper lanterns above).

Ah, but what is that concept? The garden part is pretty obvious. Wicked Park is a little bit of magic right in the city and it loves a soiree. The Good is meant to be something wholly holistic. Deep stretching, yoga, a little revival for your insides. My own guru of sorts, Mary Beth Janssen came down two years ago to lead the Good.

Yes, this is all very hippie dippy. I love hippie dippy. An afternoon where the only thing anyone is allowed to bring is flowers or wine unless they are moved to cook in theme (or bring a pineapple- thanks Alexis!). Then we all sit in the grass telling dirty jokes, drinking spiked lemonade, making new friends and then there's cake. Fini.

This year, due to the alleged rain, we were fully prepared to make vision boards in the living room in lieu of yoga. But when the guests arrived and the sun stayed out, I'll be the first to admit I got a little too excited and wanted to break out the wine to celebrate our Good fortune. So HC is the only one who really got her stretching in this year. In the spirit of self love and preservation, we weren't too hard on ourselves. Or at all.

This is the enchanted beverage station. I'm only half kidding when I use names like that. I mean there was a swan champagne cooler courtesy of the Milwaukee Duo...that's basically the definition of enchanted. The main party beverage has traditionally been Wicked Lemonade which is the ever-so-glamorous concoction of Crystal Light Raspberry Lemonade with Black Cherry Vodka, sparkling water and some fresh raspberries in every clear plastic dixie cup. Look friends, you know I love my frou frou fancy cocktails and my dark syrupy bourbon but there is no shame here. We aim to please in bulk. Apart from a rather unfortunate incident involving a nonexistent water:lemonade:vodka ratio two years ago and an enthusiastic group of GG's (who will all promptly disown me), it's only been beneficial by the barrel. This year we also managed copious amounts of sparkling wine and a delicious sangria a la Ellie.

Lest you think all that colorful seating went to waste though, you would be wrong. The Evil refers to more of a pleasantly dark sense of humor than anything actually demonic. Sparing a mixed audience the details, it was kind of like a tupperware party hosted by Bacchus. Only instead of an actual nymphic creature we got Samuel who was pretty darn close and just the most adorable person ever. I might be inclined to whisper more about this over a glass of wine but for now that is all I feel at liberty to share. Onward! To the feast!

At this point in the afternoon, I was leaving my camera all over the place so the only snapshot I have of the spread I snuck inside to prepare was taken with my phone. Alas, better than nothing. Tradition dictates a large salad bar is a popular way for friends to be able to customize their meals.

Earlier in the day, HC and I grilled up almost ten pounds of free range chicken breasts that had been marinating overnight in lemon juice, olive oil, garlic and rosemary. To that we added a couple varieties of mixed greens, sugar snap peas, sliced sweet peppers, cherry tomatoes, roasted golden beets, homemade croutons, walnuts, dried cherries and some of Jo's fresh eggs hard-boiled and ready to be shelled. Those are good friends who can't come to the party but give you eggs their chickens laid. They were also in the cake. Magic chickens.

We did three dressings- Lemon Vinaigrette, Pop's Caesar and a Spicy Ginger Peanut. Lizz modeling her plate so helpfully above also showcases the aforementioned baby potatoes that were on a whim thrown into a baking dish, coated with live oil and put in the oven with full sprigs of rosemary resting on top. This could have gone terribly awry but instead went terribly delicious. Those potatoes might be foolproof. As the fool, I would know.

When I got back outside to start corralling people in for the salad bar, I remember just surveying the crowd in the yard. I hear from a lot of people that it's been particularly hard to make new girlfriends in the city. I could see that but I also feel like I need to recognize I'm sitting on a treasure trove of awesome females. Some newer to me than others but all just wonderful. There is nothing that makes me happier than when they meet each other and fall in genuine like.

Going through the pictures afterward was a stream of "Doh! Of course you two love each other!" It's easy for women in their early twenties and thirties to get caught in a cycle of being set up and setting others up for romance. Love that- appreciate it! But being set up with a friend is a whole other kind of thing I forget about too often. Anyone else notice that? And then friends move away and it starts all over again.

I feel like an auctioneer going "Beautiful NEW mother of one, fresh to Miami Beach, culinary school grad and all around Grade A girlfriend material- who's got a match for farmers marketing and play dates and dog walking with strollers?" I'm ranting now. Chime in any time if you know what I'm talking about.

That was where I was going with the ode to the Eves. I'll be honest- year 27 had a couple proper rough patches. Mischief that was only managed by the presence of friends in walking and/or Internet distance. So here is a piece of cake for you. You beautiful, fully imperfect, hilarious bunch of hooligans. I don't care what year it is, you are some of the most charmed pieces of my life and I am very grateful for you.

Please do forgive the colorful mess of a frosting job on your confection.

It was done by your colorful mess of a hostess. Who is currently still fighting back vanity in sharing this photo everyone else thinks is terribly apropos and I think the only picture taken of me during the whole of the party (I am an excellent camera dodger. Blasted Instagram, Shecky). Not my most polished but accurate and happy.

Now here's a quick tutorial on how to make your own rainbow chips. My own inspiration was Ashley Rodriguez's significantly more professional tutorial at Not Without Salt. I'm telling you essentially the same thing but so you can see that if I can handle this, you can too.

1. Start with ramekins filled with while chocolate chunk for as many colors as you plan on making. Melt in the microwave via 30 second increments.
2. Stir in 2-3 drops of food coloring to start with. You can always add more.
3. Spread on to parchment paper laid on a tray or cutting board.
4. Freeze for 10-15 minutes.
5. Chop.
6. Ready for frosting.

I'm going to advocate adding them to vanilla cream cheese frosting to go with this chocolate cake recipe from I Am Baker. Bold statement: All frosting should be cream cheese frosting. Do not flinch when five or more friends swarm the bowl to take care of the leftovers.

And speaking of leftovers, how much prettier does a whole heap of dirty dishes look with those lovely flower arrangements all over the place?

Dirt, Grit, Growth: Spring and a Not Quite Nicoise Salad

Spring is coming. I'm looking down from 36,000 feet on April 1st and below me it's already been warm enough to melt the snow once, just not thaw the larger bodies of water. Since then, in keeping with a March reputation, there's fresh dust on the ground so the bulk of what's below is white but only half-heartedly so. It's lingering just a little bit longer but it'd probably let you in with your own pop and snacks if you tried to sneak it past at the movies. It's got plans later and its heart isn't really into militancy anymore.

The post-prime garlic cloves I haphazardly tucked into a shallow ditch in October? Sprouting strong green scapes- eight count marching up out of that sticky clay-infested dirt. I've secured a squared, sunnier plot this year and am now in the enviable position of needing to transplant the garlic I never really expected to come up.

In a frenzy this morning, I also managed to pick up my cool weather seedlings and then broke ground in my new patch without ceremony. Okay, maybe not entirely without ceremony. For as fast as I clawed through that dirt today, there were weeks of toiling over seed catalogs, filling in communal excel spreadsheets and transplanting ambitious seedlings that had outgrown their tiny cups. Gina came over as I was putting the first of the seedlings into my plot behind the house. Even before they made it into the dirt, I'd harvested a little arugula and some joker lettuce for our lunch. Not enough to be the dominant ruffage but herein lies the ceremony with a Not Quite Nicoise Salad "recipe" below. Those few fronds are meant to represent the fresh crunch of many salads to come.

Bruce has been the absolute patron saint of growing, providing a home with lights, rich dirt and seemingly boundless curiosity for the process. Growing from seed, knowing how much food could come from a $2 seed packet...these were firsts for me this year. He and Heidi have been running Green Roof Growers for years and coupled with my landlord Ala's intrinsically green thumb, my luck at finding this apartment continues to resonate four and a half years after I moved in. My kale affection is well-documented and to be able to take advantage of its growing season on two ends this year is just really exciting. I imagine myself attending dinners with bouquets of kale tied up with gardener's twine. Maybe some wild arugula providing an attractive ruffle around the edges.

It feels like a good year for walking the walk. I spent my second annual Saturday in like-minded company at the Family Farmed Expo and was so happy to be nodding along with the rest of my crunchy kin. I'm trying. I'm trying to vote with my dollar, to budget in a way that better represents the rest of the world in what I invest in my food. I've always cared. It always mattered. I just haven't always been very consistent in what sounded like the right thing and what ended up being the easiest.

And on an ever so brief personal note, it's April and I've got a March reputation of my own. My wintry mix was the travel and womenfolk whom I love dearly. While the travel and girlfriends aren't going anywhere (I'm on a plane to Seattle while writing this but likely there already for the posting), I'm thawing out. An uptick in daylight and energy lends itself well toward other pursuits. There've been some false starts but my shoulders are finally relaxed and the cold is less daunting this way. Feeling new on the heels of a sleepy season is good for the soul. Bring on the Bambi levels of twitterpation, my greens are in the ground and my salad days are beginning again.

Not Quite Nicoise Salad

Mixed Greens (I use the boxed organic mix with spring greens and spinach)
Purple cabbage, shredded
1/2 cup chopped olives (I had Cerignola, Nicoise, and those delicious extra salty and wrinkled black ones from a Pastoral run)
3 potatoes sliced and steamed
6-8 grape tomatoes (couldn't resist at the store but ready for them to be in season properly)
Handful reduced fat feta
3 hard cooked eggs, quartered

Simple vinaigrette (juice from 1/2 lemon, 1/3 cup olive oil, teaspoon Dijon mustard, salt and pepper)

Arrange however contents your precious little heart then toss with the vinaigrette. Delicious and satisfying lunch, also recommended with a warm demi loaf of crusty bread and some salted butter.

And because I hope you post your lists too...here's what will be growing for me this year!

2012 Wicked Vegetable Patch Roster
Arugula
Joker Lettuce
Lacinto (Dino) Kale
Red Russian Kale
Pentland Kale
Italian Parsley
Tatsoi
Bok Choy
Vitamin Green
Beets
Scarlet Nantes Carrots
Marvel Striped Tomato
Black Krim Tomato
Black Cherry Tomato
Valencia Tomato
Red Pear Sel Tomato
San Marzano Tomato
Listada de Gandia Eggplant
Black Beauty Eggplant
Santa Fe Grande Hot Pepper
Bee Balm
Rosemary
Lavender
Oregano
Sweet Genovese Basil
Sacred Basil

Marauding on Weekend Street

It was just one of those good weekends. Friday night started with a knitting lesson with some new friends for Karen's hilarious 30th birthday project (I'm a little obsessed with this idea). That came with wine and a lovely spaghetti squash dish for dinner courtesy of Leah. Then thanks to the power of Twitter and an open-minded partner in crime, I got to toast Katie for her birthday at Innjoy with Robin and TC, then finally made it to the Burlington for one of Jim and Michelle's DJ gigs.

Saturday afternoon was pretty much strong-armed by the dentist. That was probably the least fun piece of weekend but I had a Fresh Air podcast and Terri Gross really did help pass the time. Reward was a fun trip to Whole Foods. If my face hadn't been numb, I might have even had a glass of wine. That would have been absolutely tragic given the circumstances so I just shot wanton looks at everyone else's wine and tried to avoid smiling so I didn't frighten the children. This became a totally moot point because I arrived home to see a snow family had been built in our front yard by the much beloved neighbor kids. They'd made a snow incarnation of Honeycat (who adores them as much as I do). N,o I don't have a picture of either the snowcat or my crazy Two-Facesque expression when I found it. Face still numb, smiling like a crazy person. I love neighbors/neighborhoods.

Saturday night (once I had full use of my face back) was just a beautiful chunk of absurdity. A bunch of us met up at Big Star and even the wait was a joy thanks to some delicious margaritas and some "preview tacos" holding us over (that would be KP and I up top, photo credit to G's iPhone). Different people came to meet us throughout the night and by the end of our taco tenure, there was dancing. So much dancing that we decided to take our talents elsewhere and ended up at Rodan. More dancing. Til the music stopped. Were we done? Apparently not. Off to the Flat Iron. Pool and 90's hip hop and ohmyGOODNIGHT it is 5 in the morning. As in a half hour before my alarm goes off for the gym on weekdays. I could not tell you the last time that happened.

I slept for a lot of a beautiful day on Sunday and I wouldn't take it back. I opened the windows and the cat and I just languished in heavy covers, fresh air and sunshine. I called Gina from bed and we recapped the evening with cracked voices and laughter that hurts a little bit because it feels like your brain is part of a pinball machine. When I did get up it was done with jaunty step. A long walk around the neighborhood, a cake to bake and all the fixings.The weekend shop closed with a proper Sunday supper. Lo and Christina are two of my best friends from college and it was just the most delicious rewind to have them around the table. Dinner was inspired by Kona Bistro, our favorite restaurant in Oxford. Smashed Salmon Salad (which has even been documented here before) and "Winning of Hearts and Minds Cake" from Orangette. I wish I could have shown a clip of it to the three twenty year olds sitting in our dining room on West Collins. They're both wives now- one husband makes tremendous chocolate cookies, one sent his wife to my house with miniature artisan grilled cheese sandwiches. Which is to say, they are both winners in my book. Everyone with joy in their work and life in general. These are good things.

This is a strange type of post for this place- more of a journal entry and kind of a throwback to days of yore. I just don't want to forget it. Not the time untangling yarn and telling stories, not the cabs dotting the west side, not the solo adventures in food shopping, not the hiccups or the hijinks. I don't want to forget cool sheets and the sweetest cat or a house that feels like home and smells like cake.