Packages

Posted on April 12, 2012 by The Sugarlump

I love putting together packages for people, especially when it is not for a special occasion, but rather to say “thank you” or “I’m thinking of you” or “I hope you feel better” or “congratulations” or “happy Tuesday” or “I think you’re alright”.

One of my favorite things to wrap up is food, which is no surprise because I love food. Mostly I love the eating of it, but I do like to bake and cook as well.

So what better way to combine my passions than to bake something, do some heavy sampling (just for the safety of its recipients, of course), and then wrap it up with some cellophane, a pretty bow and a tag.

I’m also a huge fan of making gift baskets filled with mason jars of soups and such because they exude a homemade vibe, are timeless, very durable and also reusable for years and years. In summary, they are very pretty and practical (and I’m slightly obsessed).

This morning I baked some peanut butter chocolate chip cookies for a “thank you for inviting me to supper” package. I intended to capture the step-by-step preparation of these lovely things with my camera to include a recipe, but realized as I was adding the last ingredient that I forgot to take pictures. I will try to do better next time.

Here are the cookies as they cool on the baking sheet for a moment:

And here they are all wrapped up purty-like:

In addition to making the package look nice, I always like to put a little tag or sticker (handwritten for a nice homemade touch) to inform the recipients of what they are about to put in their mouths. I do this especially when there are controversial ingredients such as peanut butter, nuts, or oatmeal. I might even add raisins to that list because I can’t tell you how many times I have bitten into a cookie thinking it was chocolate chip (my favorite) and quickly discovered that it was some sort of devilish raisin nonsense (my not favorite).

It is my conviction that cookies shall not contain raisins just as cornbread shall not contain sugar. Amen.

Now that we have that settled, I will get back to the point.

Even though I love putting together an unexpected package, I do enjoy wrapping up gift boxes for holidays, birthdays and other occasions. Here’s a gift I wrapped recently for a friend’s birthday:

I found the peacock paper at Homegoods and the ribbon I ordered from the ribbon factory. While a great paper sets the tone, I think a nice, sharp bow really finishes a beautiful present. I learned this from my Aunt Anna, who was the queen of gift-wrapping.

My Aunt Anna (we called her “A-Nana” which I will explain in a future post) passed away in early 2011, but she was quite the gift-wrapper. She always wrapped gifts in beautiful paper with big bows and, for Christmas, she often added a little ornament or accessory to the bow. These packages were so beautiful that you almost didn’t want to unwrap them. I said almost. There was always a thoughtful gift inside, so you had to unwrap it.

To have your wrapping likened to Aunt Anna’s is a big honor and level of distinction in our family. You have arrived on the wrapping scene if some says your gift-wrapping work looks like “An Aunt Anna Package.” Over the last few years, a few people have received this praise and we continue this tradition of wrapping excellence in her memory.

I love you and miss you, Aunt Anna. You were such an elegant lady who did everything with great care. You are an inspiration to me and I think of you every time I wrap a package.

Y’all come back now, ya hear?

Sugarlump

Southern Staples

Posted on April 11, 2012 by The Sugarlump

Lordy, what have I done?

This is my cart at Walmart. I don’t know how this happened. And, yes, I am feeding a family of one.

Want to guess how much this cost?

Actually, please don’t. It’s still a touchy subject for me and my credit card.

It took 8 trips to unload all of this from my car to my apartment.

But, a girl’s gotta have her staples. During my first grocery shopping trip, I failed to purchase many basics such as tin-foil, eggs, mustard, flour, sugar, etc. so I had a lot to buy.

Somewhere in that cart are two glorious items that I could not find in the Northeast no matter how hard I tried. They are critical components of Southern meals so I am just thrilled to pieces to have had the opportunity to purchase them (and soon to eat them).

Might I first mention that I could not get over the variety of cornmeal available here. In Boston, if you didn’t know exactly where to look for the cornmeal in the grocery store, you would never find it. And when you find it, you will realize that it is not the one you want. Here, it’s impossible to miss because there are dozens of choices. But, I had one in particular I was looking for as it is the kind that both of my grandmothers use:

Item #1: Martha White Cornmeal

This is self-rising cornmeal and it’s white and fine (not yellow and coarse). And, in my opinion, it should NEVER be prepared with sugar. Cornbread shall not be sweet. I’m pretty sure that’s in the Bible. Corn muffins, maybe, but cornbread, absolutely not. How would you like a cupcake to sop up all that good pinto bean soup? I don’t think so.

Cornbread should be salty, never sweet. Amen.

My kitchen lacks a cast iron skillet, which is essential for making cornbread so I guess I’ll have to add that to the list of things I still need to get (much to my bank account’s dismay).

Item #2: Hot breakfast sausage

Yes! I can’t tell you how many places in Boston I looked for this stuff. Those Northerners just don’t know what’s good. But I do. It’s hot pork sausage loosely packed so that it crumbles up and leaves behind enough drippings for a real nice gravy. Mmmmmmhmmmm.

This item does not require a cast iron skillet, although that would be a mighty good way to cook up some sausage patties and season the skillet real good for when I make cornbread.

I stopped short of buying myself some lard/shortening for a real initiation into Southern cooking, but I’m sure that will make it into my kitchen at some point in the near future. I can’t help it. I’m Southern now.

I would like to end with a realization that has changed my life immeasurably. Down here, the speed limit is 70 miles per hour on the highway (15 miles per hour faster than I’m used to) and I now live in the central time zone.

Translation: I’m driving faster on slow time.

I feel like I’m getting more out of my day already.

Winning!

Y’all come back now, ya hear?

Emily

The First Supper

Posted on April 10, 2012 by The Sugarlump

After a tearful goodbye with my parents at the airport, I decided I needed something to cheer myself up. Food usually does the trick (because to me a good meal = home), but the only problem was there wasn’t any food in my apartment other than cheerios, so I decided to go grocery shopping.

When I arrived at the store, I browsed at my leisure for a while and then walked out with a very random assortment of items, such as herbs de provence, granola, polenta, and dried pinto beans. I can’t explain these choices except to say that it was an emotional afternoon.

Thankfully, I had the sense to purchase frozen macaroni and cheese because I was busy all day and still unpacking and was not up for cooking a full meal.

I got home and took that sucker out of the box and went to put it in the microwave.

Oh wait, I don’t have a microwave.

Undeterred, I searched the box for oven directions because I do, in fact, have an oven. And people must have made frozen macaroni and cheese before there were microwaves, right? ……..No? ……..Frozen macaroni and cheese was invented for the microwave? Oh….…. Well, anyway, there were oven directions on the side of the box.

The oven directions said to unwrap the plastic and place the container on a tinfoil-lined baking sheet.

Oh wait, I don’t have any tin foil. Bummer.

Not to worry, I actually bought stovetop macaroni and cheese because I found it before I got to the frozen section. It was a long day of unpacking and I was tired and too lazy to take the stovetop macaroni back to its isle so I left it in my cart and purchased it. Good thing, because I was ill-equipped to prepare for myself what seemed to be the impossibly easy dinner of microwave macaroni and cheese.

So then I got out one of my new pots, filled it with water and set it on the stove to boil.

Then I smelled something similar to what a hair-dryer that’s about to burn out smells like. I turned the stove off momentarily and immediately called my cousin Lauren who I thought might have a similar stove at her apartment. Luckily she answered and told me that that had happened to her before if it had been a while since she turned on the stove and that it was likely the cleaning solution burning off from when my apartment was prepared for my arrival. Phew.

Confident that I was going to be eating dinner, I got the water back up to boiling and threw in the pasta.

Then I realized I didn’t have a strainer, but that was fine. I would just use the lid to the pot to drain the water. I only lost a few past shells down the drain.

As I was pulling out a bowl to put my pasta in, I saw that I actually did have a strainer.

Oh well.

I then made bake-and-break cookies without incident. These are normally against my religion, but judging by the chain of events I just described, do you really think I had the ingredients, equipment or mental capacity to make cookies from scratch? Ah, no.

The cookies weren’t terrible but they didn’t quite taste like home sweet home either.

Full of sub-par macaroni and cheese and square cookies, I continued to unpack and the cats watched, exhausted from tracking my quest for dinner.

Just as I was worried about the drive and hotel stay with the cats, I thought they might take a while to adjust to my new apartment. As you can see, Gus is barely managing to hold it together on the sectional.

While things are going well in the living room, I think there is only room for improvement here in the kitchen.

Y’all come back now, ya hear?

Sugarlump

Hello, Nashville!

Posted on April 9, 2012 by The Sugarlump

Hello, Nashville!

19 driving hours, 1150 miles and 8 states later, Amarillo, my mom, my dad, Gus, Scarlett and I arrived in my new hometown of Nashville, Tennessee. My dear mom and dad, as well as Amarillo (my moving truck that I grew attached to) were along for the journey to help me move.

Although my cat Gus meowed constantly for about an hour straight after we left, the cats traveled much better than I thought they would. I think their pleasantness had a lot to do with my ingenious set-up for them in the back of my car. I purchased the largest animal crate that would fit into the back of my Jeep and used the divider (intended to be used vertically) to create a mezzanine level so the cats wouldn’t be on top of each other. Scarlett took the main floor and stretched out in the camper while Gus opted for the upper deck and was able to see out the windows and enjoy the scenery. I realized about an hour into the trip that Gus’ blanket (“the mommy”) was outside the cage so at our first rest stop I put the blanket in his bed in the cage. He snuggled right in and the meowing abruptly ceased. What a weird cat.

They were much more relaxed when we were moving at a steady pace than when we were stopped. I think the might have thought that a stop meant we had arrived at the vet’s office. They do not like the vet.

The drive was especially beautiful in some of the states we passed through, particularly Virginia and eastern Tennessee. This was my view for about 500 miles. Not too shabby.

I love me some hills.

This was a very pretty sky. I can’t remember if this was late Thursday or very early Friday. It’s all a blur.

Here is my naked apartment right after I signed my lease and my life away.

Love the pale pink counter tops. Not.

I will be painting as soon as I have some energy after packing up, driving across the country and then unpacking my life. Maybe I’ll feel up to it by the time my lease is up.

My seeeester, Eugene, and my cousin Lauren drove down from Lexington, Kentucky (where they both go to school with the 2012 NCAA Men’s Basketball Champions. No big deal).

They were such great helpers and I really don’t think I could have gotten everything carried up into my 3^rd floor apartment and pretty close to set up without them. I think I’ll keep them around. I tried to get them to stay at my apartment but they gave me some spiel about having to get back to school for class. Lame.

Who could say no to this?

After a few hours of unpacking the truck and carrying my ridiculous amount of stuff up to my apartment on Friday, we were all starving and we went to one of my new favorite spots in Franklin called Sol. It’s kind of funky Mexican or Mexico meets the South or something like that. Whatever you want to call it, it is obnoxiously delicious. We started out with some freshly made table-side guacamole. YUM. As our entrees were ready to be served, our waiter took the guacamole bowl and I was very displeased because I had not yet scraped the bowl clean with the homemade tortilla chips so as not to leave a morsel of deliciousness behind.

I quickly got over my outrage as soon as my dinner arrived. I ordered one of the evening’s specials: chipotle honey pan seared salmon with herb and parmesan polenta (and some sautéed spinach that I ignored). This was heaven on a plate. I have a picture that will surely make you hop in your car and drive however many miles (it doesn’t matter how many) to taste a bit of this wonderfulness.

After dinner, we were all drifting off into food comas and wanted to pass out. Eugene, Lauren and I had to make a quick trip to Walmart, however, because I had no food in the house and no couch for my sister or cousin to sleep on. As with all Dyer Walmart trips, this was an adventure. We were delirious at this point and must have circled the bedding department 43 times before I made up my mind on which sheet set and blanket would coordinate best with my décor (even though they were going on an air mattress).

I expected to find an air mattress in this section also, but I was informed by my cousin Lauren that such an item would actually be found in the “camping and recreation” section. I mentioned to her that I was impressed by how well she knew the departments and that I was grateful to have her along because I never would have found it on my own. Her response:

“Honey, I was practically raised in Walmart.”

Her parents might find this statement troubling, but I thought it was hilarious.

We got back to my apartment and Lauren blew up the air mattress (inflated it, rather. She didn’t explode it. That would have been real bad). And then we all passed out at the thought of more unpacking the next day.

More to come.

Y’all come back now, ya hear?

Sugarlump

New York City on Business

Posted on March 27, 2012 by The Sugarlump

My mother and I were just in New York City for a quick business trip before I leave the nest at the end of next week.

Clarification: My mother was in NYC on business and I was there to eat, not for business…….unless you consider eating serious business……which I do. So, never mind, I am sticking to my story that my mom and I were both there on business.

Side note: My mother would like the record to show that, while on the train from Boston to New York, a fellow passenger asked if we were able to connect to the internet on our laptops. She informed him that we were indeed connected and asked if he had completed a few steps required to connect. He had.

Then she suggested he open a browser window and see if that prompted the final step of agreeing to the terms of use policy. After a few seconds, he confirmed that that “did the trick” and he was connected to the internet.

My mother then beamed with delight and made some celebratory hand gestures because she had just (successfully) provided technical support. If you knew my mother (and also knew that my father is in the field of Information technology), you would realize how monumental this moment was in her life. And with that, we were off to a great start.

Upon de-training in Penn Station, I passed Detective Lionel Fusco from one of my favorite shows “Person of Interest.” We both played it cool, but it was a pretty big deal. I would have taken a photo but a) I’m not that quick on my feet and b) I was playing it cool.

After checking into our hotel, my mom and I made our way to Bloomingdale’s. Here are some pretty flowers they had in the entry:

We didn’t hit it big at Bloomie’s, but we each got a dress. Actually, it was the same dress, one for me and one for her. I must have still been on a celebrity-sighting high to have bought matching dresses with my mother (especially after all of the years I was forced against my will to wear matching outfits with my sister), but we will soon be living 1,000 miles apart so I guess I’ll let this one slide.

After leaving Bloomingdales, it wasn’t quite time to eat yet, so we strolled around the city for a little while. There were lots of purty trees in bloom even though the weather had decided to turn back to winter less than a week after the first day of spring (confirming my decision to move to the South):

OK, enough of that.

Now, let’s get down to business: Eating

Dinner: Dos Caminos

I have been waiting years for this dining experience and boy did I have some high expectations after all of the talk from my parents, friends, and Jessica Simpson about how great this place is. I am pleased to report that it did not disappoint. Very tasty guacamole (although I think Rosa Mexicana has a slight edge), delicious tacos pescados and dos enchiladas. Yum. I just ate a huge lunch, but typing that made me hungry again. Mexican food does that to me.

Apparently I liked it so much that I forgot to take a picture. But before my voracious appetite took over, I did manage to snap a shot of the best sangria ever. My mom and I debated over whether to order individual glasses or a pitcher given it was just the two of us. After a long debate and some number crunching, we decided to go for the pitcher and agreed to just leave the extra if it seemed like too much.

We had no problem polishing it off…

Hey now, don’t judge. It was a special occasion: my first dinner since the night before.

Lunch: A Voce

Oh my word was this divine. This wasn’t just really good, fancy-shmancy Italian. This was exceptionally innovative, light, and yet rich in flavor and texture, and just the right portion size (to keep me from overindulging and feeling ill, although I could have plowed through a few more servings without hesitation).

Thank goodness this was not an all-you-can-eat buffet or I might not have lived to tell about it.

I think I have found my new favorite non-Mexican dish and it is comprised of gorgonzola-filled gnocchi, topped with finely chopped smoked walnuts and tiny cubes of apple, served in a butter sauce. Soft, creamy, and savory with a hint of sweetness. Perfection. My taste buds are still rejoicing and my stomach is growling for more.

(What happened to my gnocchi? Oh, that’s right. I ate it. Darn.)

As we finished our glorious meal, my mother and I promptly made a pact to meet up in NYC every year. I think this agreement had a lot to do with our determination to dine at this establishment again. And again. And again and again.

DEE-lish.

Y’all come back now, ya hear?

Sugarlump