lost in translation

So funny story. The other day we're working outside, J in the front and me in the backyard, and I walked up to check his progress. He tells me "our neighbor lady is bringing us lemons." What? "Our neighbor lady is bringing us a bag of lemons from her tree, after she drops some off at her house" (points to other neighbor lady's house).

Lemon-having neighbor is Italian. She and her husband moved to Pensacola after he retired as the Pope's personal pilot. Apparently he was an exchange officer in flight school here in the 1960s. I knew this, but I'd never met his wife, because they're gone for long periods of time, back in Italy.

I run inside for something, and when I come back out, I find neighbor lady (holding bananas, which I thought was strange, until I saw the bag of 15 large lemons in J's hand) telling him with a very thick accent how to make some recipe involving the lemon rinds. Then she makes him repeat it back to her:

NL: What I say?

J: Um, scrape out the rinds, and soak them for 4 days in a dark place and then strain it.

NL: Yes, good

J: And this makes jello?

NL: (confused look)

J: This is lemon jello?

NL: Yes, lemon jello

We chat for a bit longer (and she calls J, "JUSTO!", with gusto) and she also tells us we can use old ice trays to form it for easy storage. She bids us farewell, and walks back to her house.

Then, J filled me in on the first part of the recipe, which involves going to Richey's, our local liquor store chain ("because it's cheaper there"), and picking a bottle of Everclear. This is the liquid for soaking. I piece together the rest of what I heard, and try to wrap my mind around the idea of my 70-year-old neighbor lady giving us instructions for something that involves two things I haven't thought of since college: jello shots and Everclear. Excuse me?

J and I continue laughing to ourselves about this random encounter, and vow to make friends with this couple before we leave, because any senior citizens that take jello shots and not only know what Everclear is, but have also priced it out at different places in the neighborhood, are probably a lot of fun. I also wonder what recipe she gave the other neighbor lady on her first stop, because that woman is pushing 85...

I go back to painting a post on our back porch. Then, about 5 minutes later, it dawns on me: limoncello. She was telling us to make limoncello.

I'm beginning to think I'm going to miss this place a little...

Bittersweet Revelations

So, I've had a sneaking suspicion lately, but tonight's events erased any doubt I had--my cooking mojo requires two of my best friends.

I met both KC and Julia in DC during the fall of 2006, when we were all new interns to the city. As my friendships with both ladies blossomed, some clear themes in our interests developed: desire to improve educational and healthcare opportunities in America and abroad, general compassion for humankind, appreciation for beauty in design and nature, love of trashy reality TV, and obsession with producing and consuming good food and booze. That last one is how I spend most of my time with them--impressive, since I currently live 1000 miles from each of them. Each time I visit, plans always revolve around where we'll happy hour and what we'll cook. And when we chat, usually daily, at least 20% of any given conversation will be about a recent meal or recipe we want to try.

So it shouldn't be all that surprising to me, but I think I'm a better cook when I'm with my ladies. Delicious drinks? Check. Look at these watermelon margaritas from a summertime stay with KC. Creamy pastas? No problem. Check out the gluttonous carbfest (parts I and II) hosted at Julia's last month. Pasta and booze? A divine pair in Pioneer Woman's Pasta alla Vodka...when cooked in KC's apartment kitchen.



I made it on my own a few weeks later--it wasn't as good. And when you're talking about the calorie count in these dishes, not as good doesnt cut it. Same goes for most of the homeade mac n cheese dishes I've attempted, and now the rule applies to sweet treats too.


Tonight I decided to make a Lukan Christmas standard--the Pretzel Thingies (they were a more recent addition to the Christmas goodie menu, so I don't think we've given them an official name). Basically, they're idiot-proof baking, and supposed to end up looking like this:






They couldn't be easier--the only actual baking involved is putting them in the oven for a minute to melt enough that for you to smoosh the M&Ms down on the top. Mine ended up looking more like this:

I don't know what happened. Well, actually, I do. I'm pretty sure I seized the chocolate. I've made these a bunch of times over the last 10 years--many times with said friends--and they've never been anything less than as tasty and cute as they're supposed to be.

So, suspicion confirmed. I must be in the company of good friends to be at my culinary best. Not such a bad thing, really.

Year two begins...

So in an email update to a colleague today, I mentioned that Justin would be flying a helicopter sans instructor pilot for the first time this week and I'm mildly freaked out about it. She suggested I should write a little every day about this experience since my jitters today will seem so strange when the first times of today become the everyday experiences of tomorrow. So here I am again, guilted into chronicling...

Speaking of firsts, we celebrated team Daniel's first anniversary Sunday. Sept. 12, 2010 was much sunnier and pleasant than 2009's, but I can't say it topped last year. It's so hard to believe it's been a year--so much has changed about lives in those 365 days. Careers evolved, names changed, property virginities lost...I don't know that another year of my life has been as volatile--surely none has been as fun.

I suppose this is why not knowing (again) where we'll lay our heads in a few months is no more scary than it was the first time around. Change is certainly something I've learned to count on in this relationship (probably no different than most). The unknowns and curveballs are just chapters in our adventure--made so much easier by the fully-committed partner at my side.

Our anniversary adventure consisted of brunch, a nap, and rolling some homeade sushi. *Sigh* I love my life.

My Florida

Sweatiness and new friends.

fashion advice

Me: Which should I wear? (holding a white sundress and a multicolored flowery one)
J: Oh, definitely the flowery one. The other one reminds me of the Klan.
Me: ...because it's all white? So did I remind you of the Klan in my wedding dress?
J: Yea...kinda.


*Sigh*

Speaking of white dresses, here's a pretty one.

Congrats to my favorite couple of muffins, Julia and Russell!

New hobby

So, for the duration of our relationship, Justin has brainstormed potential hobbies for me. I don't know how or why this started, but lately his suggestions have had a specific agenda: things Nicole can do from home to make gobs of money for our family. Sweet, isn't he? And after learning first-hand the cost of a good photographer when planning our wedding, he decided this was it. Photography is a perfect "hobby" for me.


In theory, he's right. The only problem with this is that I'm a consumer not a creator. I like to read, not write. Eat, not cook (until recently). Observe, not perform. You get the idea. Not that I think myself incapable--I just don't usually commit the time and effort to an activity to produce anything worthwhile...


Enter commitment: Canon Rebel T1i. We finally got our first-time homebuyer tax credit check and it was burning a hole in hubby's pocket. So we took the plunge and bought the thing--guess I gotta learn how to use it.



We spent the day in New Orleans just after purchasing the new toy--here's the result:

round two

So, I'm going to to try this again. In my defense, the last few months I was distracted first by a home search, then by the whole home-buying/closing process, and now the joys of homeownership itself (read: painting, lots of painting). Here she is:

After realizing that my Mac-owning, Skype-using parents were becoming more tech-savvy than me, I posted my first youtube video, an annoying virtual tour of the house.

Since moving to the new 'hood, I've discovered that my street is a hotbed of drunken bicycle riders. Sometimes they bring Miller tallboys and their 5 year old daughters, sometimes just the garbage bag full of dead soldiers on their bike baskets. But they're always swerving. I'm glad my office has such a view (mostly so I can watch for any potential damage to my Chuck and definitely chase down the 2-wheeled culprits). Ah, Pensacola.