Easy Breezy Summertime: Spicy Pickle (Cucumber) Soup

I have forever been a girl built for autumn- better suited for well-worn jeans and someone else's sweater than weather that makes my hair identifiable via satellite.

And yet.

This year I am in love with the summer. Even in the heat, I feel a breeze. I am drawn to early mornings where I can fuss over that patch of edible earth. I roam toward golden afternoons on two wheels (that's mine with the basket).

Isn't it just like summer to make my Internet eye wander? Wander from the screen toward a dappled patch of grass or vine-ripening fruit. Wander from the city toward sandy shores (some salty, some not). And, inversely, wander away from the evenings formerly spent typing. I have four posts loaded right now and not a one of them had any words...just the pictures. My goal for this week is to clear that up because man alive...summer is too good for eating not to share it.

My mom was in town last weekend and I thought it would be an appropriate time to formally give you her cucumber soup recipe. This was the summer classic growing up- I can still see the gray ceramic mugs she served it up in. Every member of the family beaming when they opened the fridge and saw that blender in there, frosted from the chilling process. I love cold cucumber soup. I love it so much that, as an adult, I've taken to adding heat.


That's a strange way to say it but it's true- spicy pickle juice changed the course of this recipe's story. That's what made it mine- different from my mom's but clearly, gratefully derivative.
I attempted to type up this recipe a couple years ago but have had the hardest time doing it here, where things become official in a sense. Lucky for me, I won't have to.

As with all good recipes, Cucumber Soup now has several storylines going. There's not much more satisfying for a home cook than having someone take something you love and make it their own.

So it worked out that the person who introduced me to McClure's Spicy Pickles (and to the summer glory of coastal Michigan) is the one who has the fully typed and lovely recipe up on her blog today. You know the backstory, now take two people's word that this is a summer soup to be immediately added to your arsenal. It's worth wandering toward.

Danielle has her spin posted over at Foodmomiac, mine is below (they're similar but not the same).

• One seedless English cucumber, peeled and cut into 2 inch chunks (if you only have a cucumber with seeds, just remove them)
• Small handful of fresh dill
• 1 cup spinach leaves (kicks in both color and some lovely health benefits)
• 1 cup plain Greek yogurt
• 1/2 tsp onion powder
• 1/2 tsp garlic powder
• 1 can low fat cream of chicken soup (I've tried to find a proper sub here. I can't. Forgive me and yourselves.)
• 1/2 cup McClure's spicy juice
• Freshly ground black pepper and sea salt to taste

Combine everything in a blender. Chill for at least an hour while you enjoy a cool beverage on the patio.

Hot and Cold

You're hot.

Then you're cold.

You're yes.

Then you're no.

You're in.

Then you're out.

You're up then you're down.

I'm working on getting into the groove of my offline life in the hopes that it will return me to the consistent patter of my writing online life. The one that involved more than facial hair observations and Katy Perry lyrics.

Just stepping into say I'm reading voraciously, have a few recipes up my sleeve and they come with adventures attached. Should you have the need for pie in the interim, I'm going to highly recommend this one.

*Photos by Dave; Pie by Jessi.

Room Enough On My Plate for Both Traditions and Adventure Even if a Little Gravy Gets on the Tablecloth

Today is a day that is one part precipice and one part plains for people like me.

Plains in that, just like every other day, I'll be looking forward to dinner and most of my decisions will be based around the snack caliber available.

Today is the precipice because it is a holiday dedicated entirely to food and enjoying it with your favorites. I got two days off of work AND an early close yesterday because everyone is just that excited about dinner tonight. And sales on Friday but I'll be in a vineyard at that point and about as far from a big box store as I can possibly be. If only they sold patience and belief in the best of human nature at Black Friday sales. Alas, yes, vineyard.

I'm writing to you from a little town nestled in the southern end of California wine country. A golden nugget of hills and greenery known as Ojai, about 15 miles off the Pacific coastline near Santa Barbara and Ventura. The Langsen family is most of the way toward moving a five-way existence down to four. Which is to say, Brother is in Boston, I am in the great American metropolis of Chicago and my parents are retiring to Florida and Cape Cod, depending on the season. That leaves the house I grew up in outside Memphis without much furniture, let alone beds, and a very snazzy For Sale sign in front (after a perfect last Thanksgiving there last year). To distract ourselves with the consistent family pursuit of Adventure! we have moved our family and foodie-centric celebrating to a place that is sunny, warm and with a generous pour policy.

In the words of someone who would know, "It's a good thing."

One interesting by-product of our relocation? We are not cooking. We will be eating (really well, apparently) but we will not be cooking. As a hardcore traditionalist and lover of chopping, mashing and wafting kitchen smells, it took me a few minutes to get my head around this new plan. On the one hand, Langsens say yes to adventure (particularly the kind with promises of lolling countryside, good wine and farmstands). It's like the third family commandment following "Langsens share" and "Langsens love school," the two most repeated phrases of my childhood. Seriously.


On the other hand, I want a turkey, some stuffing, mashed potatoes. And I really need the orange brown sugar vehicle through which I manipulate love from those seated at my table. A solution came to pass in the shape of two friends coming in from New York and Jaimeson returning from LA in one weekend. Friendsgiving it is. Menu planning commenced immediately.

Kat and Brad have been part of the extended TKTC family network since the week I never talked about in August. Sometimes when things are really really awesome, I let myself stand in their shade so long that I can't quite put the post together. Kat wrote about it here but the gist was that I made a friend on the Internet and she agreed to drive from New York to Cape Cod in August having never so much as spoken to me on the phone. Four couples (pictured above) from New York and Chicago cooking and drinking their way through a long weekend in the beach grass...it was incredible. J and I went to visit them in New York in September for an evening of cocktailing and dinner partying in Greenpoint. If you're keeping track, TKTC and the Internet are undefeated in the friends department. They arrived in Chicago Friday evening for some "city-shopping" in my kind of town.

Jaimeson had been on a big ole tour for the fall and walked in the door to house that smelled like turkey. I'd done most of the prep the night before and had placed an order for two of Dave's famous from-scratch pumpkin pies and two of Lisa's...wine bottles. Molly made a warm crab dip and volunteered her oven and fridge. Jaime made palomas. Bob and Christina came bearing local brew and bread to be broken. We were in business.

Now there are things I can mess with on Thanksgiving and things I can't. I hadn't found a turkey concoction that obsessed me yet (though now I'm curious about Foodmomiac's) so that was up for review. I needed a green vegetable. Homemade green bean casserole was delicious last year but more intensive than I felt up to for a feast served in the middle of a busy weekend. I had some fresh cranberries and was open on that front as well. Non-negotiables: Stuffing (Dad's recipe), Mashed Potatoes (Mom's classic) and Sweet Potatoes (my love-mongering vehicle).

Menu:

• Dry Brined Sage Turkey with Cider Gravy
• Stuffed with Dad's Pepperidge Farm, sage, wine, fresh stock concoction
• Brussels Sprouts with Walnuts and Bacon
• Cranberry Dijon Compote
• Crustless Sweet Potato Lovetrap
• Mashed Potatoes (Kosher salt, whole milk, kiss of cream and butter, whipped with Pumpkin {name of my mixer})
• Spiced Pumpkin Pie with fresh Whipped Cream
• Pick Your Poison on the cocktail front and best of luck to you.

Turkey was good. Really good. It was basted with butter, pan juices, cider and cheap white wine so I'm not sure where that was going to go wrong in the first place.

The gravy was even better. I would make this turkey again just for that rich brown glory that plate after plate bathed itself in. Or just skip the food altogether and find an apartment with an actual bathtub.
The stuffing tasted like my Dad's, which is to say it is the best thing I eat year round.

The Brussels sprouts I would do differently. Two cooking processes in liquid left them a little overcooked. Thank God for Jaimeson who resurrected them with a rich broth (he also did all the turkey lifting and carving, kept my wine glass full, and was thoroughly entertaining on two hours of real sleep).
The cranberry compote was easy but overpowering from a mustard standpoint. Not something I would advise as a side dish but great on a leftover turkey sandwich.

The sweet potatoes gave everyone indecent thoughts and inexplicably started crooning "Sex On Fire" when I removed them from the oven. Which is to say, the recipe still works 12 years after its debut.
The mashed potatoes may have had a little more than a kiss of cream. They were incredible. Paula Deen, Ina Garten and Ree Drummond would have been proud.

{Lack of Picture is a victim of Gluttony}
Pie. Dave does pumpkin pie like no one else does pumpkin pie. And I know pie. I know pie so well that we gobbled it before the Gods swooped down and took it back to heaven. Or before anyone took a camera out. Here are two he made today so you get the idea.

All in all, we cooked, we ate, we sipped and then took it out to the patio and sat around the outdoor space heater on a divine fall evening. It was my feast. Made with my hands for people I love. And we ate Thanksgiving sandwiches and turkey soup for days after.

It was what I wanted and it freed up my senses to be here now. With people I love. Excited for dinner in a totally new place. I'm thankful for all of it. And you, too. I can feel your goodness from here.Happy Thanksgiving from Wicked Park (by way of California)!

{The pretty photos in this post were shot by Dave and that gorgeous camera of his. Thanks Dave... and Lisa for buying Dave a camera!}

Time for a New Look

It is entirely coincidental that I'm writing this post freshly returned from the beauty shop but there it is. Incidentally, my hair smells incredible enough to just lick it but I won't because frankly Honeycat does that enough for both of us.
Nay, this isn't about my personal look per se, but rather something I alluded to in my anniversary post when you were all so kind to pull your favorite photos. The first thing I'm going to need is a new banner and my thoughts on this have varied. I really love the look of great illustration. It has a sense of humor and an admittedly imperfect viewpoint but still piques the interest and explains.


While I was in Seattle over the weekend, Pop Pop gave me a copy of The Elements of Style Illustrated as a (perfect) gift. To say that it has renewed my affection for Maira Kalman would be an understatement. She being the illustrator of the three photos above. Looking back at the other images I pulled for header inspiration I can see that they all have a similar whimsy. Luckily they all also have calendars featured in decor8's 2010 line-up and I've linked to their sites!

I love the color scheme and simplicity of these Seesaw prints and I'd love to see what they would do with food illustration.

Emmy Lew probably reminds me the most of Maira but even more whim(s?). I want a pie, a roast chicken, a bushel of veggies and puff of big hair mostly out of one end of the banner with a cat tail on the other side. That probably makes no sense. When will we be able to plug USB cords into our brains?Last but the opposite of least, Jen Oaks. Request: Click on the image above so you can really look at it. Does her November look oddly like my November? If this image had anything to do with food whatsoever, I would straight up ask her to name her price for rights to use it in an official capacity. Look, here's HC and I in our window in the fall, our season.

Would that be weird or insulting to professional illustrators to approach them about such a small project? When I re do this place, I really want to love it.

Winners of the Pioneer Woman Cookbook Giveaway and Some Comfortable Quotes

The Randomizer has spoken beyond the booming voice of a cheesecloth curtain- commenters 18 and 16 (right down the middle...that IS random) are the new owners of Pioneer Woman: Recipes from an Accidental Country Girl! Melissa, a lover of breadsticks, tomato soup and German pancakes, from the very adorable craftamania that is IS-LY and Sabrina, an Italian enamored by pasta as well as a fellow foodie and lover of Eastern coastlines from Rhodey Girl Tests! Send your addresses to me ladies- Tokissthecook AT Gmail.

The big winners were Mac & Cheese (7 votes) and Mashed Potatoes (3 votes) with an honorable mention at the end for Chicken Pot Pie (2 votes). Y'all really put a lot of thought into your answers so I thought the least I could do would be to link love it up with some quotes on your favorite comfort foods (when I could find your links. not a small amount of stalking sometimes required). Although I'm holding you all accountable for my current cravings, at least we'll all have ideas for dinner:

Healthy Delicious: Has to be pho. There's something about pho like like a huge bear hug from the inside. I also tend to lose my appetite when in need of comfort, but pho never seems to heavy or nauseating like other classic comfort foods can be. {I've talked to you about this at length so let me just say that you are a winner at life and someday I want to try your pho because I LOVE it}

This Michigan Cherry:My ultimate comfort food - meatloaf and scalloped potatoes. Makes me think of a nice dinner at home in Plymouth on a cold night. {I think I need a field trip to the Cherry Farm. Plymouth is also supposed to have a fantastic pie shop. Pure Michigan, this summer converted me}

Big Time Fancy: I could do stuffed peppers every day. I could eat my grandma's pastitsio & Greek potatoes until they both came out my ears. But in truth? I could do grilled cheese and soup (tomato, broccoli cheddar, chicken tortilla) on every single day where I feel less than 100%. That's my ultimate comfort food. {Yeah, Greek food? Particularly Greek food by a certain Greek? Very comforting. And smells nice. And gives around the back hugs while I stand at the stove.}

Megan (Gasp Shock):Comfy foods... ones that remind me of home. My dad makes homemade pizza with a Chef Boyardee mix that is so greasy from pepperoni, the crust turns a distinctive shade of orange. {Chef Boyardee Pizza. That's what I'm talking about.}

Running Pointer: (Stalk Fail. Send me your link!) Mashed potatoes. I absolutely love them. {You and me both. Mashed red skin potatoes. mmmm}

LFar: Ultimate comfort= cheesy nachos with salsa and a huge class of diet coke. (Obviously I need to learn to cook) {Lisa, let's get on this the next time you're in Chicago}

Cate (One Song): My favorite comfort food would have to be mac and cheese. i eat it rarely, but it's the one thing that makes me feel warm and fuzzy every time. {Point 1 for Mac and Cheese. Cheese and Noodles. That is not something that can be disagreed with}

Kate RD: A good turkey sandwich...on yummy bread with yummy mustard. Even an "o.k." turkey sandwich is more comforting to me than most other foods:-) {Perfect RD response. Everyone's all "Cheese! Chocolate! Refined flours!" and Kate's all "Put down your pitchforks and make yourself a fresh sandwich." I love that.}

Shanti: Comfort food: melted brie, apples & baguette. Best accompanied by beer. Or mac and cheese. Or grilled cheese. Do you see a trend here? {I see, smell, eat and love the trend. Point 2 for Mac and Cheese}

Twists & Turns of a Life w/ Curls:My homemade potato recipe I acquired from my mother she's been making since, well, forever. It involves bacon and sour cream and your thighs will hate it but your lips will love it. People who have always hated potato soup for it's "lack of taste" always beg for another bowl. With that some warm bread, little bit of spreadable butter, and some wine. MMMM, yummy! {I'll deal with the wobbly bits later. Post this recipe.}

We Are Not Martha: You know my ultimate comfort food has to be mac and cheese. preferably with super sharp cheddar (gruyere doesn't hurt either) and some sort of meat. Like bacon. Or prosciutto. I love peas in my mac and cheese too! {Point 3 for Mac and Cheese. And I did know that. And I also know that your chosen additives of sharp cheddar, gruyere and peas might be why we're friends}

Everyday Adventures of Me in the City: My ultimate comfort food is mac and cheese. My mom always made it for us when we were kids (often with hot dogs) and even now when I'm feeling down, I reach for it. So good and tasty. {Point 4 for Mac and Cheese. Extra point for addition of sliced hot dogs. Amazing}

Amanda Nan: Southern breakfast. Eggs over easy and super runny, grits chock full of salt and butter, homemade biscuits (pre-made and frozen as couples) with homemade wild plum jelly made from my Mississippi grandmother's recipe. A tall glass of milk with Hershey's cocoa powder and you've got every third Saturday morning from the ages of 2 through 8, haha! {I love that you've got the basics (grits, biscuits) against wild plum jelly. And then chocolate milk. A+ for your comfort. Great answer}

Verlan: (another stalk fail- link please!) Cornbread. I love it with everything. My ultimate comfort food meal would be biscuits and sausage gravy. Both are foods we ate a lot of when I was growing up in Eastern Oklahoma. {You're from PW country! Biscuits and gravy were a camp treat in Arkansas when my brother and I were growing up. Maybe time to visit a recipe and officially turn my kitchen into a mess hall}

I Love the Kitchen: More like Favorite: Comfort Food! How do you choose one?! Pulled pork with mac and cheese. Boeuf Bourguignon. Chicken-Wild Rice Soup. Quiche, any quiche. Crepes. My college boyfriend's mother's white chicken chili. The bruschetta at Pizza Art Cafe and a big glass of red. {This cracked me up. Favorite Comfort Food: Yes. Woman after my own heart}

Kelly: (another stalk fail- link please!)For my ultimate comfort food, I would have to go with mac and cheese! The cheesier the better! {Point 5 for Mac and Cheese!}

ANG: without a DOUBT...mashed potatoes and gravy. my moms, generally around the holidays. but, i've gotten pretty good at my own creamy version. YUM. {Point 2 for mashed potatoes. I'm aligned and think that I need you to come over for a potluck with said potatoes}

A Homemaker's Habitat: Naturally, truffled mac & cheese of course. {Point 6 for M&C! And the gilded variety as well! If you are able to leave the country with 2 ounces of actual fresh truffle, I think I will indenture myself for it}

The Sport of Cooking: {Wit thought all was lost and did not actually enter but I'm entering her Pear Butterscotch Pie for her. Because HOW GOOD DOES THAT SOUND?!}

Pineapple Grass: my favorite comfort food would have to be the following meal: warm bread and butter, meatloaf with beer-battered french fries, vanilla cake, buttercream frosting. {There is not a single thing wrong with beer-battered fries. Or funfetti cake, my personal favorite box}

Kare: My ultimate comfort food is macaroni and cheese. The Kraft dinner version is absolutely included in that, what can I say. {Point 7 for M&C! And yes to the blue box. (Kraft is an Edelman client)}

Anastasia: I'd have to say southern peach cobbler... mmmm. Warm, and no ice cream necessary. I've recently found that alfredo from scratch is pretty divine too. {Nice choice and I am with you on the a la mode. Sometimes? Sure. But usually I just like my warm, biscuit-y fruit straight up}

Food n' Such: My comfort food is pancakes with real maple syrup and bacon or sausage. Reminds me of Sunday mornings before church. {Way to take a new approach. Breakfast. Breakfast for dinner is on my personal comfort list}

What's For Dinner: Easy: My Daddy's Mashed Potatoes. :) {Point 3 for mashed potatoes! My dad makes killer eggs but I'd be interested in what makes Dad potatoes so cravable!}

One Scoop at a Time: My ultimate comfort food is congee otherwise known as rice porridge. I was fed it as a baby instead of jarred foods and to this day, there's nothing tastes more homey tan hot bowl of congee with a bit of ginger zest and green onion sprinkled on top. {Probably my favorite entry. I've never had congee but this sounds like the essence of comfort and now I'm wanting to try it!}

Deep South Dish:I really have many, but the first thing that came to my mind just then was Chicken Pot Pie. {My friend Gina makes a killer homemade version but there's a certain freezer section selection that strikes my fancy}

Madeline's Adaptations: My favorite comfort foods to make at home are pot pies and stews. And of course there are those days when my kitchen is a mess and I have no choice but to order my favorite comfort take out, pizza ;) {Point 2 for chicken pot pie!}

Town and Country: A Farmer's Market Maven

I think it probably occurs to me that I am both city and country mouse a few times per day. Blame it on my birthday, blame it on my attention span or just nod it off to personal chemistry. I love both. I need both.

I love the neighborhoods of a city. I love the restaurants and the history and the music. I love to be surrounded by so many different kinds of people (particularly making up stories about them while traveling via public transit). I like that I can spend a whole day sans companion but never actually be alone. Just skipping from one shop or park to the next.

But even in my own private pasture in the city, with my best friend across the hall and a benevolent wood nymph for a landlord, I still get the shakes for the smell of wet trees and fallen leaves. I want to hear water rushing and buy vegetables from the hands that took them out of dark soil. I like that my time with people in the quiet feels like real time. I love that I can spend the whole day sans companion and really be alone in my superstitions and delusional grandeur.

Meeting Janine was a practice in never having to choose a camp. I met her on my first visit to current office. I was brought expressly to her by someone who is perhaps kindred in this town/country sense, knowing we would like each other. I was figuring out where I might fit into agency life and here was this completely lovely woman who was a trained chef, an enthused adventurer and a lover of windows with cats sitting in them. She has a place in the city and a farmhouse in rural Michigan. I liked her instantly.

And while we're no longer colleagues, you see her referenced here from time to time as she writes one of my favorite pieces of Internet, lovingly tended at Rustic Kitchen. Beautiful photos, recipes and just an air of calm and curiosity that is so pleasant in a person.

Janine happens to be an expert in one of my favorite topics- farmer's markets. She has a few of her own fruits trees and a vegetable garden but more often than not, she likes her veggies and her farmers to wear matching dirt. I am excited to say that someone has taken notice of this and now she is writing a book on Midwestern Farmer's Markets. While I may not expect strangers to supplement the process (though I was happy to), I encourage anyone to read through her list of pledge gifts. A perfect Friday process. I wanted them all.

And for anyone else, consider this fair warning. Jason and I had a fantastic weekend getaway to Michigan over the summer when Janine more than proved her prowess "in the field." We visited one of my favorite orchards because she's friends with the farmer. We gobbled alongside turkeys and the hens that lay market fresh eggs. We were pointed toward the farm stands with ice cream. She's a city/country mouse who knows exactly where to be.

Two Years of TKTC and an Extra Credit Opportunity

Oh goodnight. I just about ran right through my two year blogiversary. I feel like Internet years work a little like dog years because so much has changed since then. Mostly me and mostly as a direct result of this little site's existence (career, romance, friends, travel, pastry skillz).

I don't much know what to say on such a momentous occasion. I had something and then forgot it. It was going to be profound and moving yet levitous. Blame the Mucinex.

I'm fighting off a flick of sick but tonight, in honor of cell phone pictures and not-quite-boyfriends and concerts and first-real-jobs and health kicks and butter kicks and Mary Tyler Moore moments and HoneyCat and pies that spring eternal and dinner parties that go well into the morning, I will cook. In honor of the beginning.

I am making matzoh ball soup and a mushroom spinach quiche. I will toast to you with warm apple cider spiked with Emergen-C and cat hair on my apron. Maybe I'll put on some lipstick.

Extra Credit: If you're at all interested...I've been cataloging food photos on Flickr. I'm thinking about changing the look up around here and that will require me to choose a few for a new banner. If you find one you like...one that looks like what you've come to know as the tasty, flighty, zippy, messy pile of frizzy affection at To Kiss the Cook...would you leave a link to it in the comments?

True Blue Trial and Error

Sometimes I wonder if I talk about my mistakes enough here.

Ok, I don't really talk about anything enough here lately but this is something I've been thinking about.

When I say "mistakes," I'm not talking about an extra glass of wine or three, an extra snooze button pounce or the odd typo when I've rushed something out. I mean the cook-and-eat variety. I mean that as someone who loves to cook and rarely repeats a recipe, it is inevitable that there be some doozies that I manage to just glaze over with a nutty brown butter. One time I think I mentioned the hand pie FAIL that brought me to midnight kitchen tears but that's been about it. I'm really flattered that some of you seem to think I'm mana-producing MENSA material...mais non.

I just love food.

I'm not terribly exact with measurements, my grandfather cannot even stand to watch the ugly way in which I peel potatoes, I still have a hard time getting all of a meal's components to finish at the same time and holy-dreams-of-sheba I am a MESS. A mess who HATES dishes and then becomes a mess with fruit flies.

A couple exceptions for your TKTC-deprecating pleasure:

Jacob Have I Loved Peppermint Bark

I was in a rush. I didn't let the dark chocolate cool in a thick enough layer and it made this unholy mess. Esau on the left and younger brother Jacob on the right, wherein I corrected my mistake. Only in this case vs the Biblical one, they both got the inheritance. If by "inheritance" you mean they were brought to a Christmas Cookie Exchange and eaten greedily. As mom says, "It all goes to the same place."

Banana Bread Canyon

Brand new loaf pans. A gift from Brother for Christmas. They are the nice ones. Insulated. Heavy. But my oven? It has an inferiority complex. It is an old and crusty oven that only likes other old and crusty things. Luckily many a phoenix has risen from those flames but this loaf of Bourbon Spiked Banana Bread? With the 70% bittersweet chocolate nibs? Not one of them. And since I couldn't gift this loaf as a gift and was out of flour? I ate the cooked bits around the corners with a JUMBO glass of milk. Sometimes mistakes are delicious and require a combination of sweat therapy and lettuce-mongering in penance.

Fully Dressed

Sometimes cooking mistakes are as simple as making sure the lid is on tight. The blender lid...the splash guard...the salad dressing tupperware top. That said, I wear it well, no?

Birthday Bubbly

Not all slip-ups happen in the privacy of Wicked Park. No, some are public. And almost fatal. On my 26th birthday I had the good fortune of being taken on a field trip for my birthday dinner. Molly and I headed to Avondale to try Urban Belly- a most buzzed about Korean haunt with communal seating, duck/foie gras dumplings and a generous BYO policy. It's my birthday and I get to drink whatever I want?! Kir Royale. That's what I want. So Mols pulls out a bottle of kirsch and I pull out a bottle of warm bubbly because my birthday doesn't mean I wasn't too busy to chill the champers. No matter- they gave us ice and the equivalent of juice glasses.

I've opened champagne. I've even opened champagne with some grace. I have lovely flutes to drink it out of. I'm a class act and it comes with the territory. Nothing says class like warm champagne cocktails over ice in plastic juice cups, n'est ce pas?

So I go to open the champagne and I wrap napkins around the top about seven layers deep. Then I twist and eaaasssyyyy....KABOOOOOOM! Shreds of paper napkin fly like confetti. Cork narrowly misses the head of an adolescent boy in the exact opposite corner of the restaurant. Opa.

Everyone was a wonderful sport. Even got some "Happy Birthday" salutations out of it. And the boy bestowed the cork on me with a pride not dissimilar to what I see in HoneyCat's eyes when she brings me one of my earrings.

Butter Blitzen

I know this looks like a nice enough picture. This is from my coworker Lauren's June baby shower with the lady herself and the divine Suzanne in the middle. Lauren is my first friend who I've seen regularly all the way through a pregnancy. In my hand you will see the item I make that is the single most requested recipe/contribution/bounty that I've produced. The brie cup.

Astoundingly simple, addictive to a fault and inciting riots at cocktail parties if you don't plan for double what you're currently thinking. I do wonder if this photo could somehow have been cuter. I'd worn a floor-length green cotton dress ot work with my cardigan that day and was feeling very sassy. Having prepped a pie and half of the cups the night before, I just needed to run home quickly to make the sauce before heading to the shower pictured above. I've done it easily a hundred times, this one was no different. Until, in my rush, I set the saucepan of honey-butter-garlic-parsley-walnut goodness on the kitchen table. Halfway. And it slowly but surely tumbled to the ground leaving me speechlessly COVERED in the glory. Whoops.

What brought this on?
The whole reason I started thinking about this was actually thanks to Lauren. Rather Lauren and Barrett, her now 5 day old golden boy of 8.5 pound perfection whom she brought into this world most heroically in my opinion. This is her first baby and it's got me thinking about the whole mom thing- I was fascinated by her entire pregnancy.

I know lots of moms. In fact, that number appears to increase by the hour these days. From what I understand, the first time is pretty much trial and error. Maybe the whole thing is that way but particularly the first one. I'm the oldest and I can confirm this at least from a reared perspective- first children are screamy little guinea pigs.

Bodily fluids will be places that organized society discourages, the undulations of simple breathing amplified to 11. What sounds like screaming to most of us, turns a new mom into a living, breathing Rosetta Stone capable of discerning every whimper into a communicated want or need. The blogosphere is loaded with tales of desperate times and desperate measures (OMG we are out of diapers and are left with nothing but trashbags and dried spaghetti). It's make it up as you go a lot of the time but mistakes are expected and often hilarious after the fact. I think it sounds like fun. I'm pretty content to keep to my side of the metaphor* for the moment but I'm excited for their little family. For the stories and the laughing...with Lauren in charge I know there will be both.

Why Violet- You're Turning Violet!

I don't really know how to frame this. Those of you who read my Tumblr or Twitter could be aware that a blog friend turned real life friend turned occasional colleague, HeatherSpohr, lost her daughter last week. I've been thinking about the Spohrs a lot and I've been reading about it a lot as Heather is part of a very tight network of other bloggers, most of whom (present company excluded) are also parents.

Maddie was 1 1/2 and while she was cognitively smart as a whip and seriously sassy (in swimwear and otherwise), it was complications of having born 3 months early that took her very quickly last week. I'd never met Maddie and have only hung out with her mom a couple times but I surprised myself with how hard it hit.

One of the blessings of "the life online" is the ability for people removed by distance or even prior knowledge to spring up, arms open. Between last Tuesday when Maddie passed and today, more than $25K has been raised in her honor for the March of Dimes. A totally separate fund was set up for her parents, to help pay the mountain of medical bills still amassed.

People are turning their avatars purple, their blogs purple and releasing purple balloons today, the day of the memorial service.

It's no secret I love kids. At some point in the distant future I'm hoping to have a few and in the interim, you can find me at 826 Chicago or hanging out with little bits belonging to other people. This is tough stuff but I'm not going to dwell on the sad, it's not Heather's style and it's not mine, so let's think some happy thoughts today.

Like how much good can be accomplished with the money raised for March of Dimes. Wearing a lot of purple today with that in mind.