unfiltered thoughts: an ethical dilemma

The new French bistro down the street from my work is soooooooooo good. But, as it has just opened and my building is a bit off the beaten path, I find myself faced with an ethical dilemma. Do I:

    1. Tell everyone that it is a delightful little hidden gem and you should absolutely go there at every opportunity, running the risk that it will become as popular as it deserves to be, at the expense of me never having their cozy warm atmosphere all to myself again?

– OR –

  1. Tell no one to help to keep it hidden as long as possible so that should they fold I will not have to go on as extreme a diet as I would have had they stayed open long-term?

As much as I enjoy having it to myself, enjoying the peace and quiet as I sip my smooth, perfectly roasted coffee and sample their flaky, buttery croissants and delicate macarons, I am going to choose #1. If you are in my neck of the woods, you really must go to Delice.

delice-coffee-macaron

reason #712 i’ll never be a brain surgeon

Last weekend, I took the kids to the Science Center, which is a little above their age. Well, only a hair, in the case of the 7 month old. But I went anyway since it’s age appropriate for our friends’ kids, and it was pretty cool. Except by midday, my Dawdler decided she had to eat a snack right away. Because, toddlers, ugh! Requiring food every 6 or so hours, am I right? SO high maintenance.

When we couldn’t find anywhere to eat except their pricey proprietary on-site cafe, Dawdler struck out on her own seeking a spot where she could sit down and inhale the stash of Toddler Chow we’d brought from home. She found a great little secluded spot where she could eat undisturbed.

Except it was highly disturbing to me. I found her seated in a dark little corner theater where there was a looping video of brain surgery.

I mean, I get it. She had no idea what she was watching, and the Science Center is noisy and crowded, which can be a difficult environment for her, as she’s shy in temperament.

But I would have strongly preferred the other corner theater. The one with a looping video of a birth. Either way, I guess it solved the problem of I hadn’t brought any Mommy Chow.

Thankful for Thanksgiving (and Weeknight Roast Chicken)

I love Thanksgiving. There is nothing better about a holiday that is centered around food. Of course, I grew up in a family where one meal was spent carefully plotting the next, so maybe it’s just me, but I think Thanksgiving is probably my favorite holiday.

It helps that we have never traveled for it. EVER. We spend it at home, avoiding the stressful are we going to make our flight or is our connection canceled because of snow and if so, how and when are we getting home because every American has the same 4 day window for flights. (And the thousands of dollars that it costs due to holiday airfare gouging). It’s just always been so difficult, and not just financially. When you’re in academics, like at least one of us has been for the past 10 years, school  takes that same 4 day break and then it’s back to a very hectic last-dasy of grading the last assignments and writing the final lectures when you’re completely out of fuel before finals, so it’s not such a relaxing time off anyway. As a result, we’ve always tried to keep it low key. It helps that we’ve lived in Arizona that whole time, where even when it’s been cold it’s still been lovely enough to spend a good chunk of time out on a long walk. But more importantly, we both love to cook, and over the years we’ve had friends and family join us for the showcase showdown that is the turkey, the mashed potatoes, the sweet potatoes, the cranberries, the homemade rolls, the apple pie…

Sorry. I’m in a food coma now.

Last year we scaled back our efforts a bit. We had a 4 month old, and were just utterly behind on housework (and sleep) so before we could even think about cooking anything we had to clean up our place. Luckily my parents were here, and that was a huge help. We alternated with my parents: some taking on the task of soothing or feeding Baby while others took over mopping the kitchen and cooking, then we would trade. And the meal was lovely all the same.

This year we’re not having anyone over, which is something we are both really looking forward to. Finally – some time off for both of us to just sit around in our sweatpants and watch some football and go for walks and eventually eat an amazing meal. So back to that meal. What to serve? We’ve always done a turkey. Some years it’s roasted, some years it’s brined, some years it’s smoked, but it’s always been there. And we do love turkey. But is it necessary this year? In keeping with our hopes of being as lazy as possible that day and just enjoying spending the weekend with Baby (who is now a toddler), maybe we should consider a roast chicken. Because that is at least as delicious as turkey in my book. And a whole lot less of a time investment. Last weekend, I happened to catch an America’s Test Kitchen episode in which they did a “Weeknight Roast Chicken” that was both simple as ALL GET OUT and amazingly succulent. Basically they browned the chicken in a skillet, then transferred the skillet to a preheated over…and then turned the oven OFF. That’s it, folks. So that might be my route. I’m definitely going to do that recipe, just not sure yet if we’ll do that one for Thanksgiving.

Turns out I’m not the only one thinking this way. This week’s Culinate just arrived in my inbox, saying: “It’s turkey-roasting season, and many of us are looking forward to feasting on our yearly Thanksgiving bird. But my colleague and friend Carrie Floyd may not be among the turkey-eaters this year; instead, she might replace her turkey with a roasted chicken — Roast Chicken with Mustard Butter to be exact. Carrie found the recipe in A Bird in the Oven and Then Some, Mindy Fox’s book about roasted chicken — and it was a big hit. The recipe worked well, as a recipe should, and her family loved it and begged her to make it again — for the upcoming holiday.”

Scuse me while I wipe the drool off my keyboard.

In Which I Gain 7 lbs in One Week

In addition to being sick, it has been too goddamn hot to set foot outside my front door. So I’ve not been going for the daily walks I so look forward to once summer is over. The September equinox may have signaled fall’s arrival to the rest of the country, but here it just means that in another month or so I might be able to part the blackout curtains that are drawn all summer long. Which, here, is at least 5 months long, give or take. (Please take, by the way. TAKE IT AWAY. I daydream that some southern hemisphere equivalent of a Nordic god will come and throw his reins around the sun and drag it kicking and screaming right where it belongs: safely underground until further notice. Or maybe Vermont since I hear it’s not all that sunny there? Maybe they could borrow it for awhile…) I get that I should expect it to still be this hot since I live on the surface of the sun but I am just over it. Every year I reach my breaking point, and this year, as always, it comes in September when it should not still be 107 (as it has been all week). I would be shaking my fist skyward as I say that but that would mean I’d have to expose my incredibly fair, delicate skin to even more sun damage. Where fair and delicate should be read as “formerly fair & delicate but now permanently sun-damaged and prematurely aged.”

In addition to being too sick and wiped out to brave the heat to get exercise, I’ve also been too wiped out to make multiple meals, which means we’ve been meal planning around Baby. Bad idea, as she has grown quite picky. Proper meals of a protein and vegetables – grilled chicken with vegetables, a lovely salad with fish – are all out of the question. She won’t eat any meat at all, nor most vegetables. She’s an utter carbitarian. A fruitivore. This means that our menus for the past week have looked something like this:

  • Mac’n’cheese
  • Spaghetti
  • Stuffed shells with pesto
  • Grilled cheese
  • Quesadillas
  • Leftovers of all of the above, served with sides of fruit and cheese

On top of everything else, now I’ve got another issue to tackle this week: our dryer seems to be on the fritz. All of our pants seem to be shrinking…

I Thought It Might Last Longer

Dear Ben and Jerry’s,

I’m writing in response to the nutrition information printed on your 1-pint carton of creme brulee ice cream. The nutrition panel indicates that there are four servings per container. However, I found only two servings in my container. You may want to audit your quality assurance check to ensure that each and every container provides the promised four servings.

Thanks!

FAM