Road Trip - Day 5: Bye, Bye Chicago

It's been a year since we took this trip! I can't believe it. And, it was our inspiration for setting up with blog. Well, you all know how successful we've been at that...

Anyway, here are some pictures from our fifth day on the road.


The kitties (Bollito and Cookie) were champs. The trip started out a little rough for them, but by this point they were no longer peeing in their cages and were checking out each hotel room when we stopped for the night.

Caramelo road up front with us. He's a great travelor.

Here's Juan, and the plants. Some of them ended up better than others. Let's not talk about the kumquat.

Leaving Chicago.
Into Indiana.

We saw A LOT of corn on our trip.

Oops, just missed the Pennsylvania sign.

Our last night in a hotel, someplace in PA. (I can't remember where, it's been a year).

Test Kitchen - Day 1

Just the other day I was telling Juan that if I ever became a baker I would want to work in a test kitchen rather than a bakery. This is pretty funny of course because I don't have serious plans to become a professional baker but a girl can dream, right? But today, I decided to try my hand at turning my humble kitchen (I should take a picture of it sometime) into a test kitchen. Maybe someday I'll also have a warehouse like this one.

This all started a few months ago when Christy posted a blog about some cookies that she ordered on etsy. I have to admit that even though I only saw a picture of the cookies I have been obsessing over them ever since. They were berry filled shortbread cookies. I love shortbread cookies, but to add berries to them just seemed divine. On top of that they looked like scoops of ice cream. Remembering these cookies last week I decided to do a search online for a recipe and only came up with shortbread cookies that had jam in the center, not a bad cookie, but not what I was looking for. Then I found that the etsy shop had closed!

Who should I turn to? King Arthur. First off, they wrote my all time favorite cookbook, Whole Grain Baking. And, have you seen their blog? It's beautiful, really. They have wonderful recipes, great stories and beautiful pictures showing each step. (OK, the truth is, if I ever become a professional baker I want to work in the King Arthur test kitchen. )

So, I thought I'd ask them what I should try and they answered me in less then a day!

So, here's what I came up with with the help of the baking gods:

Start with the Scottish Shortbread recipe on page 332 in King Arthur Whole Grain Baking

Cut down the amount of butter by half, in this case 1/2 c. Cream the butter, sugar, salt and vanilla.

Then, add 1/2 c of pureed strawberries. Cream together.

Procede with the rest of the recipe as directed (my picture for this step didn't come out).

The recipe says to bake them in the bottom of a cake pan and then cut into 12ths. I decided to do this with half and the second half I decided to try in little balls, like I remembered.

I have to say, both came out really good. Next time I may try replacing more of the butter with berries and I definitely will try this with raspberries and maybe even blueberries.

A special thanks to MaryJane @ The Baker’s Hotline for answering my question!

Next mission, to find the recipe for Superior's pink cookies, because they really are superior.

cut

Yes, I cut my hair!

Before - you've seen it.

During

After

So much lighter.

Feeling Needed

I think that one of the things I look forward to most about being a parent is the sense of truly feeling needed by another living being. (No, to the obvious question.)


I know that the pets need us, to open the door, walk them, feed them, etc., but I don't usually feel an emotional need and I don't expect it either. Tonight was different though. There was a thunder storm outside and I was home alone with the pets. I didn't notice the cats reacting, but with each clap of thunder Caramelo came closer to my chair where I was sewing. He laid against it for a minute, but seeing his bed two feet away he got up to go to it. Then it thundered again and he came back to my chair. At this point, I moved his bed closer to me, but that wasn't enough for Caramelo--he put his paws on my knees asked to sit on my lap. I brought him up and with each clap he pushed himself closer against me.


I needed to get up for a minute and when I stood up he clamped onto my arm with his paw. This seems so silly as I write it, but it's what happened. What I found myself doing next is the silliest part--I made a sling and put him in it while I walked around the house. I couldn't help but laugh and I knew I had to take a picture.


Ahh, the sling, something else I can't wait for about motherhood. I think he liked it.

Eating Local

Ever since reading (well, listening to, actually) Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by my favorite author, Barbara Kingsolver, with Steven L. Hopp and Camille Kingsolver last summer I have been trying to be as conscious about eating locally grown foods. While I love that eating local is good for the environment and supports small farmers, often the best thing about eating local is the taste of the food.

We joined a CSA this year for the first time and we've received 3 weeks of food so far. I'm taking a picture each week of our bounty (you can see it at my flickr site), what we received and what I bought at the farmer's market while picking up the share. The taste is truly superior.

Monday night while my parents were visiting we went to eat at the Blue Duck Tavern. They purchase much of their ingredients here in the region and list the origin right on the menu. The food was so delicious and epitomizes the beauty of eating locally--each ingredient must be at its prime and the taste of the food is top priority. Everything we ate was delicious. If you go there some important things to know are, 1. go hungry, 2. the appetizers are listed on the left side of the menu, 3. the portions are large enough to be shared, and 4. save room for dessert--one word, hand cranked seasonal ice cream (ok, that's 5).

Where are you from…

I sometimes think that someday my identity will stop being questioned. First, let me say, that I know it won't but indulge me for a minute.

I just wonder if there will be a day when people will stop asking me, “Where are you from?”. I change my answer pretty frequently, depending on who is asking and how long I feel like talking to them. Lately I answer, "California"—really answering the question, “Where did you move from?”. Though, I never felt like I was from there—that’s one reason why I moved. Other times I answer, "Arizona"—assuming the questions was really, “Where were you born?” since I never really lived there. In fact, when I think about Arizona I think about the inside of Oma’s house and little more. Other times, when I’m feeling generous, I go through the litany of places I have lived, Ecuador, Kenya, Colorado, California—answering the question, “Where did you grow up?”. But I know that none of these answer the true question that most people are asking which inevitably follows the first question, …

“But, where is your family from?” “Oh,” I say, acting surprised, “my family is from Mexico.” This is where the interrogator is typically satisfied, they have placed me. Once in awhile, if they know anything about Mexico, they ask which part, and that’s when I laugh to myself and answer, “Arizona.”

I understand that our society has deemed these acceptable and necessary questions, but they really do tire me. I know I should have more patience with these people because they are just curious or they are trying to make a connection but I also think that most of the time they would not ask me these questions if my hair were a lighter color and my eyes blue.

I know that this country is made up of immigrants and I have no intentions of denying my heritage (I love my family) but…sigh, it’s always the same. It’s as if people are saying, “you don’t fit in, you are different, let me size up the extent of your difference.” The problem is that I don’t want to be different, I want to be unique. I want people to ask me questions about what I am interested in, what inspires me, what makes me, me.

Monday night Juan and I went to see Claudia Schmidt in concert and she recited a poem about place—how long do you have to be in one place before you are “from there.” I could really relate to that poem since in my 27 years I’ve lived in 18 houses, 11 cities and 4 countries.


I wonder if questions of identity ever go away, maybe when I become a parent, maybe when we own a house, maybe when I work in a job that I love, maybe when people no longer look at me as young. I doubt it. I suspect that these questions will always plague me. The funny thing is, the question of identity is universal this just reminds me that I am just one of 6 billion, yet the 6 billion in the world is made up of ones.

Spring is definitely here

I know you think we're still in Chicago, but we're not. The end of our road trip will be posted, but you'll have to wait for the dramatic plot twist a little longer.

I just wanted to write a quick update and hello to everyone.

Spring has definitely sprung here. I don't think I've every appreciated Spring as much as I have this year. To see bare trees suddenly bloom into magnificent cotton candy pink and then the world around you become green is just amazing! The cherry blossoms in DC are really beautiful and worth the trip.

On another note, congratulations are in order to several people we know. Spring has brought little babies to the Cockrofts, the Delgados and the Hopkins! Send us pictures. (If you haven't received our gift, there's one coming shortly.)

AND, we are very very excited that we will soon have a new niece or nephew! Congratulations to Libby and Victor! I can't wait to hold your little one.

Spring is definitely a great time of the year--it's even better with a little antihistamine.