Weekends. Sanctuaries.

Posted in friends, Indianapolis, life, music, weddings by

Coming at you with a weekend.

I play music as I do things around the house on this unrushed, mostly unplanned Sunday morning. Lately I think I’ve been trying to catch the wind. Futile most likely, but for some reason I can’t seem to stop. Wind, leave me alone. Come back when you’re a pleasant breeze.

Sunday is pancake day. This morning pancakes broke me. (Sorry Joy the Baker, I cannot get your single lady pancakes to work!) In one stupid moment pancakes almost ruined my entire day. Just breathe, though, right? Turn to a favorite pancake. Funny how the same food that brought me to tears one minute, is perfectly golden and doused in maple syrup the next. Sometimes it’s good to stick to our favorites.

Sunday needs to relax, because Saturday was spent being busy. When one of your best girls is getting married in August some Saturdays are busy. Find bridesmaids dresses, have margaritas and beers, accidentally make off with diamond bracelets from my parents’ jewelry store, visit the reception location.

This is The Sanctuary on Penn.

Stained glass windows everywhere.

Even the bathrooms were lovely.

Have you ever been somewhere that just breathes a person? The Sanctuary on Penn fits my friend and her fiance perfectly in the history, the stories, the details, the scuff marks, the light, the many rooms, the leather chairs and dark wood bars, the fact that I can say bars plural.

Good luck penny floors.

Perfect. Wandering around this old church and picturing it filled with their guests was easily my favorite part of the day.

Comfort. Crusty Bread.

Posted in bread, food by

What do you gather around you when you need comfort?

A mug of tea or a cocktail? A favorite sweatshirt or song? Your friends, your family? Pasta or cookies? Maybe even a memory?

Sometimes the memories, those are the worst when you’re searching for comfort.

Smells comfort me. My running shoes and my yoga mat bring me comfort. So do family and friends and my dear, sweet Mira and Lola.

And food, though different food for different situations. Sometimes I need a fresh loaf of bread. It’s homey, warm, simple, and good. And no matter how many loaves of bread I make, I still feel an incredible amount of satisfaction when I take the bread pan out of the oven and slice myself a piece. It’s a miracle to me every time that I can get the yeast to work.

I was out of bread last weekend and craving something different from my usual whole wheat sandwich bread. Something white and crusty. I found a recipe for a no-knead bread via Pinterest and decided to give it a shot. Not many ingredients, no mixer or kneading required, and I could let it rise its required 12-18 hours overnight and put the loaf in the oven in the morning.

Nothing beats a house filled with morning sunshine and the smell of baking bread. Wait, warm-from-the-oven bread with avocado and a runny fried egg—that almost beats it. Talk about comfort, plain and simple.

I’m on my second loaf of this crusty gloriousness, and I’m going to tell you, it cannot be easier to make. You may say yeast scares you (please, no yeast jokes, I know at least one of you is making one in your head.), that making bread is a difficult process. Trust me, it’s not.

Continue reading →

On Turning 29 and Peanut Butter Pie

Posted in birthdays, dessert, food by

So far 29 has taught me…

that cinnamon sticks do not light on fire and therefore cannot double as birthday candles, and also smell not like cinnamon when burning.

sometimes taking care of a sick person can be a blessing in disguise. It’ll lead to lots of cuddle and couch time.

a good birthday present to yourself upon turning 29 is disinfecting the entire house.

birthday parties at this age include some little people who may not even be able to join in on the conversation. This does not make parties any less enjoyable. We may be growing up, but everyone is still game to adjust their grown up schedules so we can all still hang out and be friends like normal.

time goes by so. fast. In the blink of an eye I’m a year away from 30. I remember when 30 sounded so old. Now it feel like NBD, just the next thing that’ll happen in this life.

Perfection is not something that comes on the first time. Well, rarely anyway. Who among us can say their first time having sex was awesome? Bad first date that turned into many more amazing dates? Who doesn’t feel there was some room for improvement in the first real job they took, the way they handled themselves in their first job? Perfection, let’s be honest, 29 years have taught me that it doesn’t exist, thank God. But ecstatically amazing, drool-worthy, break out the happy dance? That does exist. Twenty-nine says it exists if you admit to your mistakes, learn from them, don’t kick yourself, and give it another go.

Perfection did not exist in the first peanut butter pie I made for Michael, and at the tender age of 27 I did not know how to admit that. For the last two years I have heard endlessly about the perfect peanut butter pie from Smokey Bones.

Continue reading →

Birthdays. Chocolate Cake with Raspberry Buttercream.

Posted in birthdays, dessert, food, friends by

Let’s be honest for a second. Is that OK? I’ve sat in front of my computer about fifteen times in the last week and a half staring at the big, blank “Edit Post” screen. I’ve typed a bit. I’ve brainstormed a bit. Mostly I’ve just felt anxious as more time passes and my planned birthday cake post goes unpublished. Unwritten, really. Nothing is coming.

I want all this inspiration in the start of the new year. I’m really thankful that my friend Sam got me this really cool journal, 642 Things to Write About, because I want to be inspired, but in small and not overwhelming doses. I want to plan big for 2013, but big plans give rise to anxiety. I did make one successful plan: I signed up for a marathon in November. A mother fucking marathon. Oh shit.

This is the year I turn 29. One more til 30. Instead of resolutions I’m making a 30 before 30 list. Thirty things I’ll do this year. Number 26: Run 26(.2) miles by completing a marathon. Number four: Send flowers to four friends. Number 12: Go to shabbat services 12 times. Number 20: Take pictures of 20 of my favorite things. Do you have any things to add? I need helping filling in the numbers. I’ll post my whole list next week, after the birthday happens.

Birthdays come with cake. Always cake. My favorite part of birthdays. I love making cake for other people.

Happy birthday Marnie

I hate asking other people to make me cake. I always lust after these complicated layered things, covered in frostings, drenched in flavored syrups. And it’s not that I don’t trust my friends to come through, I just feel bad asking for something complicated.

After all, a birthday cake should be filled with a good, joyful energy that you bake into it. Not a stressed out, this will never live up to expectations energy. In reality, I’m a fan of a simple cake, a cake with good flavors, one that I can even make on a weekday, because sometimes that’s when birthday celebrations happen, but that looks and tastes dang fabulous.

One that I am proud to put on my pretty silver cake stand, but that didn’t take hours for me to make, because, after all, we are busy. It’s a fact of life. But that doesn’t mean we don’t want to shower cake on our loved ones on their birthdays. So, simple and lovely cakes for busy people who are looking in every corner for simple inspirations and have birthdays to celebrate!

Continue reading →

Delicious Accidents. Potato Chickpea Breakfast Hash

Posted in breakfast, food, vegetarian by

What inspires you in the kitchen? Is it a certain recipe? An ingredient you find yourself drawn to at the grocery or market? A type of cooking or cuisine? Maybe even a person?

I’ve been inspired by all of these things at one time or another. A few weekends ago it was the ingredients, two of my purchases at the Indy Winter Farmers Market—the eggs from my favorite Schact Farms (where I also purchased some leaf lard that for pie crusts same weekend!) and some delicious greens from a farm that I’m embarrassed to say I don’t remember the name of.

I came home starving and ready to just throw some food together. I’d reached the point of hangry, AKA the point of no return, AKA I need food simply to fuel my body and am no longer concerned with how it tastes. This is the point at which I sometimes stand at the counter and eat dry granola from the box.

Thank God I accidentally made the best breakfast/brunch meal ever.

This is just a pile of simple and good ingredients. We’re talking greens with flavor (if you’ve only eaten iceberg lettuce or a bagged salad mix, brach out to some fresh and not bagged other greens like arugula, butterhead lettuce, or mustard greens. Mind-blowing.), earthy potatoes, spiced chickpeas, mushrooms, and peppers (leftovers in my kitchen from chickpea and roasted vegetable fajitas), all topped with bright yellow runny yolk eggs. This is delicious, easy, healthy fuel. This is what you should be stuffing into your face on a weekly basis.

Continue reading →

Race Recap: Jingle Bell Run 10K

Posted in holidays, running by

One gray and rainy Saturday my friend Marnie and I met in a parking garage in downtown Indianapolis. Marnie had on her IU running shirt. I had on my candy cane striped knee-high socks.

We crossed the walkway from the parking garage into Banker’s Life Fieldhouse (home of the Pacers) and secured jingle bells to our shoes.

And we ran. We jingled through the streets of downtown.

Here’s the thing. I’m a huge slacker and this race happened last Saturday. As in over a week ago. But I’m still writing about it!

So this was the Jingle Bell Run, which raises money for arthritis. All participants were encouraged to wear festive holiday outfits, and everyone got two jingle bells to tie to their shoes. Marnie did the 5K, and I did the 10K.

The morning really was gray and wet, but not too cold. Thankfully for my phone, which I carry in my hand so I can obsessively check my time, the rain stopped right as we started. My goal was to finish the race in around 52:30 with an average pace of 8:30.

I have this problem of getting swept up in the moment of the start of a race and running my first mile fast, which only makes miles three and four kinda hard. I can pace myself no problem on just a regular run, so I know what my 8:30 pace should feel like. I just get swept up. Maybe I’ll start doing more interval training so that I can practice running all out and then coming back to my regular pace and holding it for a few miles.

Anyway…6.2 mile course was nice. It was different than all of the other races I’ve run downtown, which I appreciated. We wound around the Eli Lily buildings, on and around Mass Ave, around Monument Circle, and finished back up at the Fieldhouse. At around mile 4 or so we met up with the 5K runners.

I love the end of a race. The part where you see the finish line and runners kick it into high gear. I witnessed my favorite race moment as I approached this finish line. I was running alongside a dad and his son for a few seconds. The dad looked down at his 10-year-old and said, “There’s the finish line, buddy. Wanna leave me in the dust?” Of course the kid said yes, and took off. I can only assume the dad slowed down a bit so his son could kick his butt. The competitive runner in me thinks that’s about the sweetest thing. Taking a hit in your end of race sprint so your kid can leave you in the dust.

So how’d I finish? 52:20. That’s an 8:25 pace. RIGHT ON! The results seem to think I finished 10th in my age group. I find that somewhat hard to believe, but I’ll take it! And 175 overall out of 576 runners.

This was a fun race. It was very family oriented, but as a kid-less runner out to hit a time goal, I didn’t feel out of place. Hopefully Marnie and I can both do the 10K next year!

Oma’s Tomato Soup in a Flash

Posted in dinner, family, food by

http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8485/8229018495_c87efff086.jpg

There are days when I crave french fries, when all I want to do is stop by Yats, this yummy Cajun-Creole restaurant in town, and pick up some chili cheese etouffee. I have weeks where jet lag is clearly a real thing, but I refuse to admit it exists. I will not be weak. Winter starts to creep in, days get shorter, and by the time you get home, the sun has set, the dog still needs to be walked, and despite the fact that it’s only 6 p.m., it’s much too dark and late to make real dinner.

Do not give in to the urge to get french fries or your city’s equivalent of chili cheese etouffee from Yats. Instead make tomato soup. I bet you have all of the ingredients in your house. If not, this weekend stock up on canned tomatoes, buy a spice container of cloves and a jar of Better Than Bullion, and make a habit of always having an onion or two and some garlic in your house.

http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8480/8190138018_d6a12d59e9.jpg

This tomato soup is special. Twice a year we would see my grandparents who lived in Holland. My grandmother, Oma, would make this soup with little mini meatballs floating in it. I remember her standing over the stove in her green kitchen making this soup. We would have it or her chicken noodle soup before every lunch in wide bowls with wide rims. My grandfather would pick up his bowl and always slurp out the last drops. I looked forward to Oma’s tomato soup every time they visited us in Indiana. She’d make a big pot first thing and we’d have it before dinner every night.

Even now that Oma is gone, Opa still eats soup every night. When he was here over the summer he gifted me Oma’s cookbook. It’s an old green, hardcover notebook with pages of handwritten recipes. Oma took a cooking class when she was young. Each night she would come home and tell Opa the recipes of the day. He then carefully wrote them down in the notebook.

http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8343/8242389781_34d4edf7d0.jpg

This tomato soup is a cinch to make. It requires maybe 10 minutes of hands-on time and 40 minutes of simmering, flavor melding time. This tomato soup has been my go-to meal this fall on nights when I can’t muster up the energy to make a full-on dinner. Plus I happened to be given the glorious gift of a HUGE amount of tomatoes at the end of the summer, which I canned into 10 quarts of tomato awesomeness. Make a pot of this. Double the recipe. Triple it. Curl up with a bowl of it as the days grow shorter. For me, it tastes like childhood. I hope for you it tastes like an easy and healthy dinner on a night you just couldn’t squeeze out one more drop of energy.

Continue reading →

Dreams.

Posted in life, music by

Dreams are funny. Where would you be if all your dreams had come true? Obviously you’d be in a million places. These things change a lot.

Ever since I started riding horses at 9 years old, I dreamed of having a horse. In middle and high school I dreamed of being a vet. My friend at the barn was going to be an Olympic rider and I’d be her vet. That dream was dashed when I realized you had to be good at math to go to vet school. Faaaack.

I dreamed of leaving Indiana for college. I wouldn’t trade those four years for any other college experience in the world. Then I had a dream of going into the Peace Corps. I was even accepted, but I chickened out. My life would be pretty dang different if I had spent the two years after college in Mongolia or eastern Europe.

I dreamed of making a permanent life in North Carolina after moving down there for a year after college. I tried so hard to find a job. I never, ever dreamed I’d be living back in my hometown, making it my home.

I dreamed that I’d marry a certain boy. That would’ve been hilarious.

I heard this song the other day on Pandora. I actually stopped what I was doing (sweeping up clouds of dog and cat hair that float around my house with reckless abandon) and had one of those “that’s it, you speak to my heart” moments with the lyrics … “Where would I be right now if all my dreams had come true? Deep down I know somehow I’d have never seen your face. This world would be a different place. Darlin, there’s no way to know which way your heart will go.” (Which Way Your Heart Will Go, Mason Jennings)

What if even one of those dreams had come true? I wouldn’t be here, making a huge pile of black and white hairs (none of which came from my head, thank you very much. I’m so not  in complete denial about my growing number of gray hairs.), that’s for sure. I wouldn’t know the faces, the important ones, in my life, at least not in the same way. Maybe I would’ve had great experiences abroad, met fantastic friends making a life in North Carolina. Hell, maybe I could’ve been a damn good vet. Funny how you take certain turns, certain dreams don’t make the cut, and that all puts you where you are now, surrounded by the people you love.

Right now, I’m pretty much living the dream. The Dream. The one I never knew I had, but that’s dang good.

Roast a Chicken for Me

Posted in dinner, food, relationships, vacation by

Hello from the Philadelphia airport! I am on my way to Madrid, Spain to meet up with Michael, his sister, and his mom and stepdad! It’s been three long months since Michael left for Sweden. The wi-fi here is atrocious. This is 2012, people! Get with the wireless world. So hopefully I can get this post finished. However, when you read this I’ll be in Madrid already. So technically, hello from Madrid?

Traveling stresses me out only a little bit. Let’s just say this has been a long week, and I won’t drink coffee at night when I’m anxious anymore. The only thing I’ve had planned out for weeks is my travel outfit. Does that sound dumb? Comfort is of the utmost importance when you spend a day and night traveling. Plus, if you want to bring anything extra bulky (like boots), you should probably work them into your travel outfit so as not to have to squash them into your suitcase. Plus, hair gets flat, greasy, and unfortunate after hours on a plane. Thank goodness for braids and head scarves.

Two weeks ago Michael and I had another cooking date—a whole roasted chicken. While this may sound slightly intimidating, trust me, it’s not. And a roasted chicken is just about the best thing you can put in your oven on a Sunday afternoon. Why? Well I’ll just tell you.

A roasted chicken is super hands off. Prep it the day before you plan to roast it by spicing it up a bit. Put it in the oven for an hour to an hour and  a half. That is it!

If you are one or two people a whole chicken will feed you for at least a week. This makes the cost worth it. Chicken on salads, chicken in enchiladas, chicken on pasta….endless possibilities. Get creative with your leftovers!

Chicken parts (bones, innards, the back) are great for homemade stock. Freeze that business and use it once you’ve gathered enough chicken parts and vegetables.

Thanksgiving is right around the corner (how in the world did that even happen already?!) and maybe you don’t celebrate with a large group of people. A chicken is a great smaller alternative to a turkey.

Now, where do you get a whole chicken? I suggest you get yourself to a local butcher or venture to a nearby farmers market and make friends with a chicken farmer. Either of these places will sell you a lovely local whole chicken. Whole Foods or Fresh Market are also excellent options.

Michael did a great job with this recipe as a beginner cook. He even proudly pulled legs and a breast off of the cooked chicken, and was amazed at how the breast looked just like a boneless chicken breast he’d buy at the store.

I roasted some seasonal vegetables (oh so frickin fancy, let me stick my nose in the air, lalala)—cauliflower and potatoes. Put them in the roasting pan with the chicken when there’s about half an hour of cooking time left. Just sprinkle some salt, pepper, and olive oil over them! I also happen to like a little curry on my cauliflower.

Continue reading →

When Current Events Get Personal

Posted in current events, vacation by
Hiking in the Negev in the south.

Hiking in the Negev in the south.

I want to get a little current events with you, because this one current event has been heavy on my mind the last few days. In 2007 I went to Israel on a Birthright Israel trip (that’s a free trip for anyone Jewish ages 18-26 who hasn’t been on an organized trip to Israel yet). I was Jewish before I went to Israel. I’d been Jewish for almost 23 years. But I came home with this renewed passion for my religion, for Israel and for the connection I found there. Duh, that’s what Birthright is supposed to do. That’s what they tell you will happen when you go to Israel. I did not even believe them. But it did happen. I felt at home the instant I stepped off the plane in Tel Aviv.

Masada at sunrise

Masada at sunrise

Now I work for an organization that promotes Judaism in my city, that promotes Israel, and that helps remind people why it’s awesome to be Jewish and help each other. I have been glued to the news the last few days. Glued, you guys. I felt sick when words of rockets streaking towards Tel-Aviv and Jerusalem streaked across my screen. I can’t fathom the thought of having to sprint to a bomb shelter multiple times in a few days. The anxiety-ridden worrier inside of me can’t breathe thinking about how I would round up my animals, keep them safe, how I would keep track of my loved ones. This is happening in Israel. Way too often. Israelis (and Palestinians in Gaza, too, to be fair) are living in fear.

Women at the Western Wall in Jerusalem.

Women at the Western Wall in Jerusalem.

This whole situation has become very real for me this time around. I know people in Israel now. I have developed a much more personal connection, deeper than I even had after Birthright, through my involvement with Israel at work. So here’s the deal. I do not care where you stand politically on the situation between Israel and Gaza. If you are a good, kind person the thought of people suffering, being in danger of dying for just being who they are, their lives being disrupted because of where they chose to make their homes, the country they love and live in being threatened to be wiped off of the map because of hatred, please just send some love, some thoughts of peace, some strength to this part of the world.