Chicken Pot Pie

Posted on November 9, 2013 by The Sugarlump

I’m back on a food network kick and it seems everyone is making chicken pot pie these days. This dish has never held much appeal for me but the more I watched Barefoot Contessa, The Pioneer Woman and Trisha Yearwood prepare it, the more I wanted to make it. It just seems like a hug in a dish. A highly-caloric hug.

I reviewed a couple of recipes and made up a hybrid of sorts. I pulled out some chicken breasts from the freezer, an onion, the remaining celery from some lentils I had made early in the week, white wine, half and half, and some butter. I needed only a couple of things from the store: fresh thyme, carrots, chicken bouillon cubes and refrigerated pie dough. I didn’t make my own crust because I couldn’t stand to think about all of the shortening and butter atop this already cream-based dish and I didn’t feel like pulling out and cleaning my 49lb food processor. If I don’t have to measure out the fat, it doesn’t exist as far as I’m concerned.

Now, as I was thinking about making this dish, I realized that I didn’t have any ramekins or personal-sized soufflé dishes. I decided to swing by the home section at Marshalls to see if they had anything inexpensive. All they had were miniature Le Crueset square baking dishes in red. While they were reasonably priced, I have mustard-colored Le Crueset and my OCD self would not let me purchase a non-matching color.

I headed over to Big Lots. On my way into the store, I caught a renegade shopping cart that started careening down the parking lot and towards an unassuming parked vehicle. I stopped the cart about a foot shy of a big old dent in the side of this car. As I neared the door to the store, a man waiting in a truck rolled down his window and yelled, “Nice save!” For my good Samaritan efforts, I thought maybe the baking dish gods would reward me by having the right ramekins in this store. Nope. At least I worked off a few calories in the high-speed cart chase.

I recalled Kroger had a nice selection of well-priced baking pans and dishes so I ran in there quickly. Sold out in the size I needed. Of course! I was about to bite the bullet and hit up William Sonoma when I remembered Pier 1. They had just the thing at just the right price. Success!

I primarily used The Pioneer Woman’s recipe from her first cookbook, substituting half and half for heavy cream and fresh thyme for dried. I also added in peas because they’re cute and tasty and a little cayenne pepper for a kick. I was pleased with the result but I might consider adding a little bit of dry mustard next time or perhaps some curry powder. I might also consider a smaller ramekin next time because I feel like I just ate a rock. Back to Pier 1!

I did use some smaller disposable pans so I could stick the rest of the recipe in the freezer. Aren’t they precious?

Y’all eat up,

Sugarlump

P.S. I sprinkled these dough scraps with cinnamon and sugar and put them in the oven to bake with my pot pie. It was a sweet little snack!

Gold Mine

Posted on November 6, 2013 by The Sugarlump

I recently made a trip up to Boston to help my parents clean out closets and storage spaces that contain the relics of my childhood. In an effort to purge the no longer needed, my parents nominated me to make the call on what was too precious and dear to part with and what needed to find a new home in a hurry.

The major area that needed addressing was my sister’s and my old playroom that had become a resting place for furniture no longer allowed in the main part of the house.

Things only got worse before they got better.

But, boy, did they get good.

I found some real treasures among 3 carloads, 2 truckloads, and dozens of 55 gallon trash bags by the curb of rejected items.

This here is one of the Hanson brothers, also known as my little sister Eugene.

I found an entire box of cards that my sister’s classmates had made her when she had her tonsils removed in the first or second grade. By the volume of cards and the concern in her classmates’ scribbles, you would have thought she was having high-risk, open-heart surgery. She had many a reminder to eat popsicles, which had some very creative spellings. My favorite though, was this card from a young man who I deduce was named Harrison. He seemed to have some top secret information for Eugene on the inside of the card as she was to “plees opon alone.”

I found my Chapel signs from my senior year of high school. Man were those a trip.

This is me in 8^th grade with my kindergarten buddy. I think she’s applying to colleges now. I feel old.

Hard to believe since it was just yesterday that I was sporting pig tails and cat appliques.

Who remembers Lisa Frank?! I used to love to buy this stuff at the school store in elementary school!

I was unsure about this creature that belonged to Eugene. I sent her this picture to inquire about its nature.

Me: “What is this here creature?”

Eugene: “A horse in a kimono, naturally.”

Right. He was for sure a keeper.

Cards congratulating my parents on my birth. I’m not sure if it was a common thing to say back then (let’s hope), but a lot of the cards said, “take good care of her,” as if my parents were questionable guardians. This kind of made me laugh/worry.

This is a realtor packet from 1992 when my parents sold their first home in Maryland, where Eugene and I were born.

Apparently I took interest in homes and real estate at a young age as it appears I added my own notes to the list of house features.

I had a lot to add.

And that was only day one.

Y’all be good,

Sugarlump

Hair Dying

Posted on October 22, 2013 by The Sugarlump

Though I am five at heart, I’m apparently forty to fifty on the head.

Not in the head, but on the head.

I’ve had the good fortune of gray hair since high school. I take this as a sign that I’m wise beyond my years because I am trying to find anything positive about this situation.

As some of you wise-haired people know, these gray hair situations are pricey to conceal. I usually leave the hair dying to professionals but that has gotten expensive and necessary more frequently than I’d like and my friend Jessica assured me it was a cinch to do at home. I decided to take the plunge and let her help me dye my hair. And by help me, I mean do it for me in exchange for dinner. I was on my own, however, for the trip to Sally’s beauty supply.

My natural hair color is a very dark brown, even though my granny calls me her “black-headed” child. I typically like to dye my hair (have my hair dyed by a professional) a tad darker and throw in some violet undertones. It really brings out the green in my eyes and the ghost-like quality of my skin.

I was intrigued by this set of colors. They might make me look more tan than the violet, but that’s probably about all they would do for me.

After I had some fun envisioning myself with radically different looks, I started to hunt the blue-violet among the 350,000 options. Now blue-violet is not a wildly popular color so I had to ask for assistance in finding it. Turns out there were just two options. The lovely helper explained to me the difference:

“Well this is good if you have grays but you’re so yo…(spots the alarming amount of grays on my twenty-five-year -old head)…you have some grays so you should get this one.”

Nice save.

I headed home with my youth in a box as well as a handy little kit of supplies and Jessica got to work mixing up the pigment with the stuff that makes it stick to your hair. Binder? Extender? Developer? Tar? Something like that.

And then came the comment from Jessica that puts every woman who’s about to dye her hair at ease: ”I’ve never seen it look this color in the bottle before…”

Follow shortly by: “For the record, I didn’t pick the color.”

Excellent. I decided to focus on prepping myself for my transformation instead of the helpful commentary.

Having donned my high-end “cape,” I was feeling a little warm.

E: “It’s hot in here.”

J: “Well you’re wearing a garbage bag.”

The whole point of this DIY hair color is to save money. Maybe next time I’ll roll the $2.99 into my 401K and just use a lawn-size trash bag.

I sat on the toilet and Jessica got to work processing my hair. Though my bathroom is fairly generous in size, the fumes from the hair dye were so strong that it might serve as an alternative to general anesthesia. Even with the fan on and the door open, Jessica and I barely maintained consciousness throughout the process.

Jessica finished putting the dye on my hair and we cleaned up my skin around my hairline because after stepping back and looking at my neck, Jessica said, “You look like you’ve been beaten.”

I highly recommend this thoroughly enjoyable experience.

We let my hair “process” on my head for a while and then it was time for the moment of truth after I washed the color out of my hair. If you’ve ever washed violet hair dye out of your hair in a white shower and watched the show Dexter, this might be a very disturbing experience as you might think you’ve been shot. And having just awoken from my hair-dye-induced coma that is a highly plausible situation for all you know.

I made it out alive and my hair color looked pretty good. Jessica will remain in good standing; however, I don’t think I can go through that experience every 4-6 weeks.

Maybe I should go blonde.

Or gray.

Y’all be careful,

Sugarlump

I’m baaaaaaaaaaack!

Posted on October 19, 2013 by The Sugarlump

I’m baaaaaaaaaaaaack!

Miss me?

Well, I missed you all, internet friends!

Sorry for not posting for, like, ever. In the past few months I’ve moved, changed jobs, learned how to dye my hair myself, had a lot of family and friends visiting, discovered a new breakfast delight, replaced the brakes on my car and it’s been just crazy.

Just a little recap:

I’m Emily

I’m five.

Plus twenty.

But really I’m five at heart.

And stomach.

(what?)

A short time ago, I decided to start eating cereal again. I had given it up on my gluten-free kick but decided that gluten was not my enemy, but that, in fact, diary is. Unfortunate for a girl who grew up drinking milk almost exclusively, would choose cheese over almost anything (love me some savory), and thinks sour cream is a good addition to almost everything. Except cereal.

Anyway, I was perusing the cereal aisle (I always forget that word has an A in it – thank you spell check!) at Kroger in search of a long lost childhood favorite, Berry Berry Kix. This was the closest I came to “sugary” cereal as a child and it holds a dear place in my heart, unlike Raisin Bran and Chex. I would savor the opportunity to eat Lucky Charms or Trix when sleeping over friends’ houses, but I don’t recall ever being granted permission to put any of these delicacies into the shopping cart during my formative years.

Eager to hug a box of Berry Berry Kix, I searched up and down the aisle (I remembered the A this time!) probably 13-17 times, convinced I had somehow missed it among the hundreds of cereals. I could picture the box as clear as day. Purple. An image of the cereal, mostly regular kix with bunches of “berries” scattered throughout in purple and maroon. To my horror, it appeared that Berry Berry Kix had been taken off the market. It was a sad moment.

Until I came across a new specimen of cereal: Oops! All Berries.

Let me assure you, this was no oops.

Some brilliant mind took the best part of the cereal from Captain Crunch, which tastes much like the berries in Berry Berry Kix because, after all, they’re all berries (well, “berries”), and made a cereal out of them. Genius! I can’t tell you how many times I used to eat all of the regular kix out of Berry Berry kix, saving the berries for last. I did the same with lucky charms, leaving all of the marshmallows for a few bites of pure sugary heaven. Someone should invent Oops! All Charms because, let’s be honest, who likes those funky, somewhat sweet cheerio-ish things in Lucky Charms anyway?

No one.

The plain kix weren’t as bad, but this new cereal requires much less legwork with my spoon at 7:30 AM and provides a much more satisfying breakfast experience as each bite is just as enjoyable and indulgent as the last.

My life is forever changed.

There are, however, a few side effects: acute ADD and hunger in less than an hour.

And I think my teeth are going to rot and fall out of my mouth.

I have dreams that my teeth fall out all of the time. It’s horrifying.

My Mom might have been on to something with that whole” no sugary cereal” bit.

I want some cheese.

I think eating salt after sugar cancels it out, right?

Oh, how I’ve missed you all.

Y’all hurry back and I will, too,

Sugarlump

It’s kind of not so great…

Posted on May 16, 2013 by The Sugarlump

I recently purchased Gwyneth Paltrow’s new book, “It’s All Good,” intrigued by the idea of healthier and cleaner eating. The book offers a lot of great information and recipes about eating diary-free and gluten-free. It also discusses healthier choices for fats and non-meat proteins. As someone with a sensitive stomach, I thought I might try out some of these ideas with my meals. Don’t get me wrong though, you won’t catch me eating tofu lettuce wraps any time soon/ever. Except that one time I made them for dinner at my parents’ house. I tried hard to sell them to my dad as a delightfully healthy alternative to beef tacos and he just wasn’t buying it. And neither was I. So I decided to apply my new way of thinking about eating to a fairly familiar food: pizza.

I headed to Dominos one evening a few weeks back. I went in and ordered a medium gluten-free pizza thinking that was the smallest size.

Dominos guy: “Oh we only have the gluten-free in a small.”

Me: “Ok perfect. How much will that be?”

Dominos guy: “11.99?”

Me: “Wow that seems expensive for a small…”

Dominos guy: “Well you can get a medium for 7.99!”

Me: “I thought you said the gluten-free crust only came in a small.”

Dominos guy: “Well it’s not really gluten free.”

Me: “What do you mean? Your gluten-free crust isn’t really gluten-free?”

Dominos guy: “Well if you ordered a medium it wouldn’t be. The medium is a better deal unless you need the gluten-free for health reasons.”

(DUH? Why else would I order gluten-free?)

Me: “I’ll take the small gluten-free, please.”

Verdict: The pizza was pretty terrible and expensive. I think I’ll stick to the real stuff and just eat it infrequently.

My next venture was speckled lima beans. I must admit that I usually make these with bacon grease and on this occasion I fully intended to make them that way; however, there was no bacon or bacon grease to be found in my refrigerator. Having carefully studied all of the critical pantry items for a dairy-free and gluten-free household, I had thought it was worthwhile to purchase a TUB of coconut oil at the wholesale club. Never mind that I only cook a few nights per week, I hate coconut, and I am the only one in the household that will be using the coconut oil. The 54oz tub was just the ticket.

Seeing the tub of coconut oil sitting on the counter, I decided to throw a few healthy spoonfuls in as my fat for the beans.

Boy was that a misstep.

I thought it would be a subtle taste, but no.

I threw in a halved onion and 2 cloves of garlic to try to mitigate the undesirable coconut flavor. It helped, but the coconut was still there in a big bad way. Bacon grease and coconut oil are not similar flavor profiles in case you were wondering.

Verdict: Good thing you can use this stuff as moisturizer. I’ll be smelling pretty tropical for the next 23.4 years or however long it takes me to saturate my skin with that tub of coconut oil.

Having failed miserably with savory options, I thought I might have better luck with something sweet.

Nope.

I found this recipe that sounded great for a gluten-free fudgy chocolate cake. How bad could that be?

BAD.

It looked so pretty, but underneath that icing lay a very strange tangy, cleaning solution-like aftertaste and a chewy texture much like an actual dish sponge (not to be confused with the lovely texture of sponge-cake).

It nearly ruined chocolate cake for me.

In an effort to stay positive and salvage the situation, I have been scraping off the naturally gluten-free chocolate icing and eating it by the spoonful. I now have a scalped cake in my refrigerator.

Verdict: There’s a reason people bake with wheat flour.

I’m hungry.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

North comes South: Part II

Posted on April 28, 2013 by The Sugarlump

Day 2 of my friend Blair’s visit was quite busy. We started off the day with a plan to hike part of the Natchez trace and suited up in several layers of athletic apparel to face the nippy wilderness. But first, we made a stop in downtown Franklin for a little retail therapy and sustenance. I took Blair to several of my favorite spots: Iron Gate, Gino, Philanthropy and Anthropology. Blair found a couple of cute pieces for Easter at Gino and then we decided a sweet treat was in order as delicious smells wafted over from the adjacent Meridee’s. I had a strawberry pastry that I intended to eat just half of, but before I knew it, it had disappeared on me. Blair got a cookie that I made a note to try sometime. And by sometime, I meant later that afternoon.

As we walked to the car to head on to the Natchez trace, I lost Blair. She was behind me one minute and as I went to unlock my Jeep and hop in, she was nowhere to be found. I circled the car only to find Blair trying to get into another car two spaces ahead of mine. We had a good laugh over that.

Our drive to the Natchez trace took us through the beautiful farms in Leiper’s Fork. I had never been over that way so it was an uncharted adventure for both me and Blair. We saw lots of different animals. Blair was particularly taken by the horses wearing “sweaters.” They were pretty darn cute.

Don’t let this clear, sunny sky fool you; it was about 45/50 degrees.

We arrived at the trail entrance and embarked on our hiking adventure a little leery of the heavily wooded/potentially creature filled path. Thankfully, we didn’t encounter anything questionable except a swampy patch and a little horse poo.

Not too far into our journey, we stumbled upon this beautiful view.

Selfie alert! Here we are at a large bluff along the trace. You can’t judge us because there was not a soul within miles who could have possibly taken our picture.

Limbo anyone?

I was very interested in the neat shadow patterns of the trees.

About 2 miles in, the trail opened up into this lovely lawn.

Lots of pretty wildflowers. Seeing this reminds me that I once suggested to my Dad that we turn part of my parents’ lawn into a meadow. It was a no-go.

We came across this memorial honoring the soldiers who traveled along the Natchez Trace during the war of 1812.

We hiked the trail for roughly 4-5 miles. Our pedometer seemed to be confused by our frequent elevation changes through the hills so our mileage was a little ambiguous. We weren’t terribly concerned about it. It was a nice hike and a nice chat and we were happy to have made it out of the wilderness alive.

It was 2:00PM by the time we wrapped up our hike and we were kind of hungry. Just a little ways down the road, we stopped in “downtown” Leiper’s Fork for some lunch. We first ventured into Puckett’s, which looked delicious, but neither of us was really in the mood for a rib-stickin’ meal of BBQ or meatloaf. I was craving a salad (a very rare occurrence for me) and Blair thought something a little bit lighter sounded good, too. We were about to head back to downtown Franklin when we spotted a little café. Perfect! We walked in the door and started reading what looked to be a lovely selection of salads, soups and sandwiches. The “host” greeted us with a very confused look on his face as he speculated, “Lunch?” Not knowing any other commonly accepted term for a mid-day meal, Blair and I responded, “Yes?” (duh?). He then informed us that the grills had been turned off. We said no worries; we were hoping for salads anyway. His frown deepened as he informed us that he wouldn’t be able to serve us salads either because apparently when the grill is shut down, this establishment that serves many things not prepared on a grill is paralyzed, and it is impossible to prepare anything edible for two hungry young ladies even though there were pre-packaged items staring at us in the refrigerated case in between us and Mr. No. We left a little miffed and happily noshed on salads and fried pickles at 55 South back in downtown Franklin.

We arrived back at my place mid-afternoon and inadvertently took a power nap while catching up on some March Madness. Then it was time to get ready for dinner. On to the next meal!

Blair loves sushi so I knew I had to take her to Virago at some point during her visit. Not only does it have great sushi, but it’s also one of my favorite restaurant designs in Nashville. Good lighting, not too loud, different dining formats, great use of texture, interesting crowd, prime location in the Gulch. It’s a pretty swanky spot.

We sat at the bar so we could watch basketball. After thoroughly reviewing the menu, we ordered sushi and drinks and settled in. I can’t explain it, but something possessed me to order a cocktail spiked with jalapeno. It was very interesting and mostly enjoyable until my sushi that contained sriracha entered the mix. It probably didn’t help matters that I also dunked each bite into soy sauce mixed with a sinus-clearing portion of wasabi. Towards the end of the meal I ordered a bowl of plain rice to counteract the inferno building in my mouth.

It was still a reasonable hour when we wrapped up dinner so we headed down the road to Patterson House, a throw-back speak-easy in Midtown. We ordered fancy, chemically-engineered, hand-crafted drinks. And doughnuts.

We got to talking to the bartender (as this is the south after all) about the concept of this establishment and how it reminded us of a “mixology”-type bar in Boston, called Drink. Much to our surprise, this bartender knew Drink because Patterson House had hosted several guest-bartenders from Drink recently. This world is impossibly small at times. We chatted with the bartended some more about her favorite places to eat in Nashville. She recommended City House and Rolf and Daughters, two places high on my list to try in Germantown. She also mentioned the Catbird seat, which is located directly above Patterson House. I made a note to check it out. Sadly, our new friend was moving to San Francisco in the near future, but it was nice to meet her.

And on that note, we concluded day 2 of our adventures.

Y’all hurry back,

Sugarlump

North comes South: Part I

Posted on April 14, 2013 by The Sugarlump

My good friend from college Blair came to visit me a few weeks back. She was my first non-family member Yankee visitor and it was her first time in the south. EVER. It was a pretty big deal.

I picked up Blair at the airport early Wednesday afternoon and went over some ideas of things to do and try out during her stay. Even though it was a little chilly (I’ll have you know it was 80 degrees the weekend prior), the afternoon she arrived was supposed to be the warmest of the days while she was here so I suggested we pack up a picnic and head out to Arrington Vineyards. I had never been before but had been told by many people that I should go if I had the chance. We packed up supplies in the largest beach tote known to man, picked up some cheese and olives at Whole Foods and headed on our merry way.

After a scenic drive away from the city, we arrived at Arrington Vineyards for our free wine tasting. Our server gave us his spiel, telling us we could try up to 8 different wines. I asked Blair how many she was going to try, to which she replied, “8! I’m on vacation!” I like the way she thinks. No wonder we’re friends.

We were both starving and decided to nosh on the cute little crackers offered at the tasting to cleanse the palate between wines. Blair referred to them as cracker pillows, because they did indeed look like pillows made out of a cracker. Our server agreed and we giggled about it for a good 5 minutes. For the record, this was before we had sampled any wine, which was unfortunate for Blair who tasted the crackers first. I asked her how they tasted as she chewed for an eternity.

“Very…dry. They make you thirsty. In a bad way.”

I tried one or four also and concluded that they were indeed the driest crackers I’d ever tasted. Who knew something so small and cute was capable of robbing your mouth of all moisture. Perhaps they should use them at the dentist instead of that terrible saliva sucker thing…

For the rest of the trip, Blair and I referred to anything or anyone who put a damper on things as a cracker pillow. As in, “Man, he was a real cracker pillow.”

Anyway, we tasted our 8 wines and decided on a bottle to purchase and enjoy with our picnic.

I went to the car to retrieve the picnic and as I walked back up to the porch, I got several comments on my monstrosity of a bag. It really does come in handy on such occasions.

We set up our spread and caught up for several hours as we enjoyed our wine and cheese. The sun began to set on the Vineyard and it was time to pack up and get ready to go downtown for dinner.

Normally, if I’m trying to ensure that my guests have a good time and/or trying to convince them to move to Nashville, I take them to places that I have been to and know are worth returning to. I hadn’t been to Arrington Vineyards, but that was a hit so I continued breaking my rules that evening by suggesting we try a new restaurant in town that I hadn’t yet been to.

We freshened up and headed downtown to The Row, which had just opened the week before. We arrived to a nearly empty restaurant and were seated in a booth in the corner under some very harsh, interrogation style lighting. We asked if they could maybe dim the light a little, which they couldn’t (poor lighting design) so we asked to move. We were re-seated in a very dark section and began to study the menu by candlelight. From one extreme to the other in the span of 30 feet.

The menu had lots of southern classics to choose from. I picked chicken fried chicken with cheese grits and bourbon sweet potatoes and Blair got the BBQ, brussel sprouts with bacon, and fries. What the restaurant lacked in atmosphere it sadly did not make up with its food. While it wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t special. I know better than to order fried chicken with two grandmothers from Kentucky. Shame on me. I’m sure the restaurant would be more pleasant if it were full, but I’m not in a hurry to go back and neither is Blair, particularly if she has to come all the way from Boston. So maybe I should have quit while I was ahead with the blind adventures. Thankfully, Blair was willing to write off that one since we started off well at the Vineyard and had several days of pre-approved adventures ahead.

And that was just the first 8 hours.

Stay tuned for parts II & III.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

Here to Stay

Posted on April 10, 2013 by The Sugarlump

Somehow, I have lived in Tennessee for a year. How did that happen?

This past Saturday marked the anniversary of completely uncharacteristic move 1100 miles south. In a way, it seems this year flew by, and yet living in Boston seems a long way back. I didn’t know a soul when I moved here, but of course I received a warm welcome. It is the south after all.

I’ve made many wonderful friends in the last 12 months. I’ve gotten to see my grandparents and extended family more than ever. I’ve discovered I like bluegrass. I’ve put 17,000 miles on my car. I’ve experienced a tornado warning. I’ve taken thousands of pictures of the sky. I haven’t done yoga once.

Words like “you’re fine” and “y’all” have become fixtures in my vocabulary. My style has become more eclectic and less preppy. Though it would be a serious stretch to call me an extrovert, I’m more outgoing and chatty than I used to be. I like to get out more.

I don’t have a TV in my room and I don’t miss it. I still haven’t bought bar stools so I don’t have a proper place to eat a meal. I cook maybe once or twice a week.

I’ve decided I’m not over the city living as much as I thought. I’ve stopped drinking soda. I like dogs more than I used to. I’ve been to the movie theater 3 times. I’ve canned jam.

I’ve learned more about what’s important to me and what’s not.

It feels like home here.

I think it’s time to take down this wreath.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

Easter Eatin’

Posted on March 31, 2013 by The Sugarlump

Happy Easter, y’all!

I’ve been up to a lot lately that I will post about when I have some free time, which will be on the fifth of never. Just kidding. Kinda.

Even though these posts won’t be in chronological order, I thought I’d share my Easter while it’s fresh in my noggin. My dear little sister, Eugene drove down from Lexington, Kentucky to join me for the holiday. I hadn’t seen her since Christmas, which seems ridiculous since she lives only three and a half hours away. She arrived last evening and we went out to dinner at Germantown Café, which we had been to last summer for brunch. The brunch last year was fabulous and dinner certainly didn’t disappoint.

My friend and her sister joined us and we ordered two appetizers to share: pork belly tater tots and fried green tomatoes. I normally don’t like tomatoes but I didn’t mind choking these down one bit. They weren’t half-bad; in fact, they were more than half-good. The pork belly tater tots were slightly smoky, but not overwhelmingly so, which was good. I’m not a huge fan of smoky things, including cigarettes. They were very rich but quite tasty.

For my entrée, I had the fish special, which was a panko-crusted tilapia with a Puttanesca –like medley over parmesan polenta and asparagus. If there is ever a fish and grits/polenta dish offered at a restaurant, I will most likely order it. It’s one of my favorite combinations ever. This wasn’t the best I ever had, but it certainly hit the spot.

We moved on to Holland House for drinks/dessert. I ordered a drink on our waiter’s recommendation that wasn’t on the menu. I don’t recall the name, but it was a bourbon-based concoction that tasted like fall in a tumbler. Fall is my favorite season and bourbon is my poison, so I definitely enjoyed it. It didn’t hurt that Holland House is such a neat scene with its dim-lighting and parlor-like feel with just the right balance of rustic and refined décor. Initially I had wanted to sit at the bar to people watch and observe the theatrics of the bartenders making their artisan cocktails, but it worked out that we were seated by the fireplace since it was a cold, rainy night. We ordered dessert to finish off the evening. My sister and I split a flourless chocolate cake with a scoop of homemade carrot cake ice cream. The dessert wasn’t as spectacular as the drinks, but all in all, it was a fun evening.

After church this morning, my sister and I headed over to Pancake Pantry, which I have been wanting to try since I moved here. I was forewarned that there would be a line down the sidewalk and today was no exception. Poor Eugene toughed it out in the rain with me, each of us with a malfunctioning umbrella and no outerwear, for about 45 minutes. Thankfully, the food was worth the wait otherwise I think she would have killed me. She ordered pecan pancakes and I ordered chocolate chip. We also rounded out the meal with an order of sausage patties and hash browns. The pancakes were superb and the sausage was the good stuff. The hash browns, while good, were clearly crisped up on the griddle with Parkay margarine. I know this because Parkay has a very distinct flavor which I first experienced as a child when I insisted we purchase the Parkay spray margarine I had seen on TV because it looked like fun to use. It is not tasty and I’m going to have to dock Pancake Pantry a few points for this faux pas. They have a good thing going with their pancakes with whipped butter, though.

In my typical fashion, the visit was centered around food. Eugene didn’t seem to mind and I didn’t have to cook. Not that I mind cooking, but I still don’t have barstools so there isn’t a proper place to sit and eat a meal in my apartment. I’m working on it though. Thank goodness Nashville has a lot of great restaurants.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

One Year Sweeter

Posted on March 18, 2013 by The Sugarlump

Today is the one year anniversary of the Sugarlump, which means I have lived in Nashville for almost one year. Man, does time fly. I have a few reflections to share on this momentous day:

While I started this blog mainly to capture moments of my life that I never want to forget, it has proven to be so much more. It eased me through the transition to my new home. It has kept me connected to my family and friends who regularly read the Sugarlump and comment. In turn, it assures them that I am alive and well. Some of my extended family members and family friends have probably learned more about me through reading my blog this past year than they had learned about me in all the years they’ve known me combined. Whether that’s good or bad, I don’t know. I’m just putting it all out there.

Most surprisingly, The Sugarlump has connected me to new friends who I know only because they have found my blog or I have found theirs. Who knew complete strangers would take the time to leave a kind note or helpful tips? This blog regularly reassures me that this world is indeed full of good people.

This blog has given me the motivation to learn more about photography as it provides a great outlet through which to share the thousands of photographs I have taken since moving to Nashville. I apologize to my readers who don’t care for cats or weather reporting. I hope to get out more this summer.

Though I am generally journaling-averse, writing posts has been a kind of therapy for me. It helps me to find joy in the little things as I reflect on my day. It puts things into perspective. It keeps me connected in a more meaningful way. I never would have thought I’d call myself a blogger, but a blogger I have become.

And even though I have slacked off on the blogging as my life has become busier in Nashville, I hope to continue celebrating blog anniversaries.

Thanks to my faithful readers for all of your “likes” and comments. You make my day.

Love y’all,

Sugarlump