{He Said} Taking Offense

There is a saying that I often repeat by Brigham Young.

"He who takes offense when no offense is intended is a fool,

and he who takes offense when offense is intended

is a GREATER fool." 

I have tried to live by this and most of the time I do okay, however sometimes lines get crossed where taking offense is not only right thing to do but a moral imperative. 

The following card came with the pajamas that Katie bought for me.

Needless to say I am offended and vehemently disagree.

{She Said} Can she bake a cherry pie, Bart-y boy...

I love an occasional slow, cool, sleepy weekend afternoon. 

Because I get the chance to do up something like this...

And when it actually turns out right {like I vehemently hope this one did}, a kitchen triumph almost

 ~ not quite, but almost ~ 

makes up for the hundred and one kitchen disasters that preceded it. 

side note: I foolishly persuaded El Husband to go with me to purchase straight-from-the-farm sour cherries this summer.  The very same ones filling this pie.

The foolish bit?  

The fresh fruit only came in 5-gallon buckets.  

And we bought two. 

{Insert sheepish grin}

Does anyone out there have any good sour cherry recipes?  {Miranda? Natalie? Cheryl?....Anyone?}

{She Said} Girls' Weekend

I'm going to throw a fairly inflammatory comment out here into the ether.

You may get a tad riled up about it.  

You may think I'm barking up the wrong tree. 

You may have a bone to pick with my opinion.  

But trust me, o best beloved reader...I am right on this count, and I simply won't quibble over details:

My husband is the level best man around. 

In fact, he beats the pants off any other husband, hands down.

Here's why...

I recently observed a birthday.  

My request to El Husband regarding said day:  

"Keep it low key, please. A little slice of cake, a nice meal out with you, and some flowers. That would be just right."

Did he listen?

Nope.

Did he comply? 

Not on your life.

Did he go with my request?

Ha!

What he DID do, however, was beyond my wildest hopes. Funded by a super secret Swiss bank account {note to self: look into that}, Mr. Sneaky-Britches purchased clandestine plane tickets, made under-the-table plans, and on a rare golden afternoon, he presented my {mostly} unsuspecting person with two of my near-and-dear girl friends from Denver.  Thus kicked off one of my favorite weekends ever.

These two lady-yahoos descended on the Pacific Northwest in style!  

Our first meal together involved a visit to one of the food cart neighborhoods of this zany city for a dinner of diminutive fried pies.

Becca (l.) & Michelle (r.) at Weezie's Pie Cart, Portland, OR ~ August 2010

Little bitty savory pies for dinner!  Portland, OR

Saturday morning found us roaming the awesome farmer's market in search of all kinds of tasty and pretty.  Somehow I missed documenting the jalapeno popsicle...trust me, it's no great loss. 

Farmer's Market, fresh peaches. August 2010, Portland, OR

Don't know what the heck this flower is, but it's everywhere. And it's lovely

Then we made like pioneers and headed west for a little coastal time. Over two hours in the car, and I think we touched briefly on every topic in our collective circle of knowledge! I think my girls had the nerve to be surprised that the city soaked us in a summery temp around the high 80's, while the coast was a balmy high 60's.  We wandered in the sand, found itty-bitty jellyfish, avoided the seagull carcasses, and gabbed so much that Michelle started to lose her voice. 

Becca and Michelle at the beach~ Oregon~ August, 2010

Of course, we had to find some awesomely tasty sustenance, because I am all about a good lunch.  {Inlander that I am, before I moved here,  I had no idea that fresh clam chowder does NOT have chewy little shoe-leather bits in it.  Apparently, an encounter with truly fresh seafood is not meant to strengthen your jaw muscles.}  

Coastal clam chowder...soooo tasty.

                          

After 20 minutes of inhaling smoke and eating sand, the doggone fire finally came to life, and we dried out a bit. {I took an unexpected dunk up to my waist while trying to cross a "stream" to some rock formations.}

My chicas, thawing out.  August, 2010

Just in case I hadn't consumed my full allotment of gluttony, Michelle introduced me to a hitherto unknown level of bliss: s'mores with a peanut butter cup in lieu of the chocolate square.  Honestly, people, you must get your hands on one of these as soon as possible! 

{Michelle, my waistline is in danger.  And my mouth is sooo happy.}

Peanut-butter cup s'mores, courtesy of Michelle.  August 2010

                          

I am one of the luckiest people ever...great friends, awesome husband, and such a superb birthday weekend treat!  Bart, bless you for this best of all surprises.  Becca and Michelle, thank you for your incredible friendship!

Three yahoos at the beach, August 2010

{She said} Countdown, or Happy Friday

Remember when you were a kid and your mom bought you days-of-the week underwear?  And it was a momentous occasion to get dressed in the morning and pull out the Wednesday pant!es?  {Or mant!es, if you happen to have that Y chromosome.}  It was a childhood-innocence countdown to that lovely institution known as the weekend.  Remember...when cartoons were worth watching and there was a whole box of sugar cereal with your name on it?  

I'm a few years beyond days-of-the-week underpinnings.  But adulthood does find me with a little clothing ritual that makes me grin as I go through the week.  You see, in my profession I spend a lot of time on my feet.  In an effort to combat gravity and my wretched protoplasm/genetics, I wear these babies every single day I'm on the job:

Yeah, you're seeing it right. I wear nurse socks.  Ugly as can be, but at least my scrubs hide them.
There are just enough nurse socks to get through the week, all lined up in a row like little days-of-the-week soldiers in my sock drawer.  It's a countdown from Monday on, one pair of elastic-laden compression hose at a time.  And at the end of the march of numbers, I experience my own personal little triumph as I reach through the pre-dawn gloom and pull out...

The Friday Socks.

I'll be wearing the blessed Friday socks right now as you read this, grinning my just-waiting-for-Saturday grin.  Cartoons and sugar cereal have given way to time with the husband and a visit to the Farmers' Market, but this momentous day is no less anticipated. May Friday find you with a little spring in your step, too.  

{I just hope you're not still wearing your Wednesday pant!es.} 

{He Said} Nirvana

Nirvana

Utopia

Shangri La

Heaven

In each of us there is a journey that must be accomplished.  There have been numerous names given this place of happiness that we reach throughout history by various writers and religions.  I like to think of it as a place of complete joy and contentment.  With this in mind I make the announcement that I have reached this place recently.

I found PIE Nirvana.

To understand fully we will need to trace the full journey.  A year ago after picking raspberries and blackberries we needed something to do with the plentiful harvest.  Friends gave us a recipe for berry pie from Joy of Cooking and it was fabulous.  Plenty of fresh berry flavor without over the top sugary sweetness.  The crust was made with vanilla wafers so it had a nice shortbread feel.

There was something missing however.  The crust could be improved upon.  It was at that point I added chopped pecans and coconut to the crust.

This was significantly better on the crust however there needed to be a little more to the filling than just berries.  I tried strawberries with a creamcheese and whipped cream concoction that I created underneath the berries.

It needed a little gelatin to add stability but wasn't quite what I was looking for.  Next I tried whipped cream, lemon juice and sweetened condensed milk (sorry no picture).  This became too sweet and needed more heft for the filling.  

After looking on the internet and through all of our cookbooks I came upon pastry cream.  Katie had used this before for a tart (she took a "pies and tarts" class from the local culinary school).  It has a nice creamy consistency, not too sweet, perfect vanilla flavor and enough heft to not puddle when sliced.

My life is now complete.

I can no longer give Katie a hard time for her baking insanity, not without being a hypocrite, anyway.  Oh well, it won't be the first time and probably not the last either.  Love you Wifey for joining my madness.

I sure hope there are these ingredients in the place I end up after I die.

{He Said} A Grand Day Out

This past weekend the parental units came to visit us in Portland.  We had fun showing them all that is weird and wild in the big city.  Given that this was the mission the first stop had to be the Portland Farmers Market.  This allows for some of the best people watching in the city and given my parents have never lived outside of small town Idaho it promised entertainment for all involved.

We had excellent tamales, we had gone to breakfast at Pine State the day prior so I didn't think that I could handle another day of the Reggie (that they were not at the market this day also played a role).  For those of you who have not been to visit us Portland is GREEN.  Not just the color but the mindset.  Because of this we ate our tamales with forks that could be composted.

I do not like compostable utensils, starch is not supposed to be part of silverware!

Compostable forks July 2010 ~ By Katie

We then went to the Rose Garden.  Where we found this couple sleeping on a bench.  It reminded me of the poem of the woman who swallowed a fly.  I am pretty sure I saw a least a couple go down the hatch.

Rose Garden July 2010 ~ By Katie

Now for those of you that are ashamed of me for putting up pictures of couples sleeping on a bench in the middle of a park don't worry, I am related to them.  Should I worry?

Meet my parents.

Multnomah Falls July 2010 ~ By Katie

The next day we went for an afternoon drive and where we found a beach.  Just as I was getting ready to pull over we saw this sign.  I didn't think I should introduce this much of the big city to my parents so we just kept on driving.

Portland July 2010 ~ By Katie

Thanks Mom and Dad for coming.

{She said} Berry, berry good.

It turns out that there are some pretty amazing things about summer here in Oregon.  Feast your eyes, folks:

Obsidian blackberries ~ Oregon, July 2010 ~ by Katie

Last week, I skipped out on work a few hours early one afternoon and joined El Husband for an afternoon of berry-picking out in the sun.  I had never encountered honest-to-goodness fresh blackberries before moving here, and I will just tell you that the smell...oh, my goodness, the smell is sensational.

Standing next to Bart in a shaft of sunlight, listening to the thump of our pickings into the buckets, I realized that I was more content than I'd been in a long time. And that is a superb feeling. 

The Husband ~ Oregon, July 2010 ~ by Katie

I think I just may go back tomorrow for more...