my cool new friend

Living in the DC area can make you think that you are profoundly lacking in social skills. Then, when you relocate to another area, you realize that most people don’t demand to know where you work within two minutes of meeting you, don’t give a sh** where you went to college, and don’t vie to prove who has the highest stress level.

People are FRIENDLY! Here in NC, there’s this fabulous thing called southern hospitality!

One beautiful late summer evening, I headed out to the grocery store when I spotted my pal Jocelyn and her adorable five year old son Kane. Naturally, I commenced furiously chasing Kane around on the grass while chatting with his mama, at which point Coen, the equally adorable four year old boy who lives across the hall (who was, as always, clad in his Batman tshirt and cape)  and his mama Roxanne showed up, and the running and the chasing and the making dinosaur noises just got funner. So we planned a cookout for the following weekend, for all of our fun neighbors to hang out.

Gender roles divided pretty hilariously, with Steve and the other men grilling outside and discussing extreme sports…

 

And the ladies inside, teaching the kiddos how to play the drums on packs of plates (courtesy of my roommate Alli, the girl who will start a drum circle anytime, anywhere).

I offered to bring meats for the meal, spending a small but worth-it fortune on organic ground beef for burgers as well as organic turkey and beef hot dogs.

Everyone else also contributed too, though I only got a few pictures. Jocelyn’s guacamole and AWESOME watermelon-basil-feta salad.

Steph’s carrot cake cupcakes (uhhhhhhhhhhhhhmazing- packed with walnuts) and Charlie’s stuffed mushrooms (which I didn’t eat because I’ve recently been unable to stomach the thought of eating a pig and they were stuffed with pork… but everyone else said were very tasty!)

Jocelyn and I are extra tight, so we’ve had a few fun date nights with each other. Most recently on my 25th birthday (!!!) when I stayed home sick/”sick” from work and she set aside her freelancing for a few hours to gossip, eat chicken soup, and together watch Dances with Wolves.

We are really kindred spirits- the first night we met, she ended up creating astrological charts for me and Steve. And then we excitedly gabbed about antioxidants. And psychoanalyzed the men in our lives.

Another time we got together, Jocelyn made me the best roast chicken I’ve ever tasted (a title I can sadly no longer give the Zuni Cafe recipe). I sadly neglected to take a picture, but I’ll describe: she begins with the Martha Stewart recipe, which involves a plethora of fresh and dried herbs and an olive oil basting technique. Bringing her own delightful new age sensibilities to the proceedings, she then says several prayers over the chicken, thanking it for its sacrifices, and rubs the herbs in.

Anyway, dessert was extra fab. Jocelyn has an impressively well-stocked pantry and a Vitamix (jealousssss). She threw together in the Vitamix some cacao powder (on which she waxed poetic for a bit regarding its health benefits)…

 

… agave nectar…

… and coconut cream which, who knew, they now sell at Trader Joe’s.

 

With strawberries dipped in it, it was pretty epic. (To be truthful, the boys focused on the brewskies and the girls focused on the dessert!). It was also vegan, gluten free, paleo, yadda yadda. None of those are necessarily my scene, but if they are yours you hafta try this dessert!

Then when I returned the favor, I made an oh-so-easy and oh-so-tasty soup. I roasted a chicken and used its bones to make stock. I sauteed zucchini, sweet onion, and corn in oil then cooked it with the stock and pureed it with a ton of fresh parsley. AMAZING SOUP. I took the chicken off the bone and made a Caesar salad, with Romaine lettuce and yummy cheese. And because Jocelyn’s kiddo Kane can’t have gluten (she experimented with taking it out of his diet since he was having a crazy bloated belly and not only did the belly get better, his asthma disappeared!), I made my favorite gluten free specialty: socca!

It was quite the feast.

The soup was particularly delicious- homemade chicken stock is SO easy and SO delicious. Kane, the five year old, got seconds, which I thought was a real vote of confidence in the recipe!

 

Funnest of all, after dinner we played blocks. Because I am currently teaching preschool, and thus there are fun toys all over my house. These are particularly cool- you can make skyscrapers out of them! Trees on the roof optional.

Fact: when you are five, the most fun part of building with blocks is knocking them all over.

Nesting

Nonsensical thoughts on the new ‘hood.

First, admire the amazing luna moth that took up residence in the breezeway by my building for a few days. Huge! Beautiful! Makes me think of my favorite book, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay.

  

Snapshots from the first time entertaining at Steve’s place. He had over my roommate and her boyf as well as Steve’s old college friend and his girlfriend. Crazy- Steve and Alex attended school together- in Illinois, mind you, nowhere near North Carolina- and with no planning or forethought, ended up living on the same street. Crazy, right?!

Steve’s back porch is pretty fantastic. Clearly someone just told a hilarious joke!

 

Neglected to photograph the meal (Steve’s impeccable homemade pasta) but got a dessert shot.

Alex’s ladyfriend Myra made this totally boss tart- puff pastry crust, dense creamy filling, fresh blueberries atop.

 

I made what we’ll call “deconstructed tiramisu”. It was okay. Had ricotta and bits of chocolate and things.

Molly takes care of plates after we dine at Steve’s. She has some irritating habits, chiefly making the home smell like her, but she also does cute things like yawning.

 

As for my place, I’ve (almost) got my apartment where I want it. Alli’s gotten a lot of GREAT stuff for it. She buys the cool vintage furniture at thrift stores, I buy Dolly Parton albums at the Habitat for Humanity thrift store and create a little Dolly shrine. My fabulous roommate loves Dolly Parton as much as I do AND grew up very close to her hometown.

Note Alli’s awesome homemade coasters!

That Habitat for Humanity store is also where I got this fabulous lamp for twelve dollah:

The shade is really thick and sturdy and silky and high quality, too, so it’s got substance along with its style!

Since I am surrounded by hippies, I decided it wouldn’t be too ridiculous for me to adorably decorate our trash can. (Note: when you lift up the lid, I wrote a little note that said, “Could you be recycling this?”)

 

I’ve cultivated feelings of competence and self-worth by putting up my own curtains and then doing a repair when they fell down.

 

They were like $8 or something? Solid polyester, of course, but I like the texture of the fabric.

In general, I’m into fun fabrics in my room. My bedside table is in fact just one of the boxes I used to move covered with a cool piece of fabric I got in Thailand. As for that melatonin, that useless substance is evidence of something that’s not going so well in the move. Sigh.

More cool fabric patterns: the goldy stuff underneath I also got in Thailand; those pretty green containers where I keep my jewelry were a gift from my aunt, who got them in South Africa.

Lest you think my room is just filled with exotica, my absolute favorite thing I bought on a day trip to Hillsborough. Isn’t this gorgey?!

Simultaneously ceiling decor, excellent feng shui, light reflecting, and container for the only living thing (I hope) besides me in my room. I bought it at the coolest little store in Hillsborough- full of all sorts of reclaimed wood furniture and homemade soaps and fun stuff like that.

Also made a KILLING at an estate sale that we randomly stumbled upon one Saturday. There was something truly gruesome about seeing all of someone’s earthly possessions sold off to the masses for vastly less than they were worth. I feel compelled to give my Monet poster (still in the process of being flattened!) a happy second life.

 

One of the things holding down the Monet poster is this cool lantern-type thing, which I think I’m going to give to my sailing-loving uncle for Christmas. I got a LOT of Christmas presents at this sale!

Speaking of deals, this is way too close to my home and way too delicious and way too cheap.

Enough said.

A wonderful close to home place is the farmer’s market, where I got all this great loot for $14.

Fab Tuscan kale, tomatoes that seem to be keepin’ on truckin’ right into fall; a fun new kind of pumpkin that I had to get; cute stripey summer squash; yummy corn; and SCUPPERNONG GRAPES! The most intensely scented, incredibly sweet, thoroughly seedy specimens. I love them.

We end this nesting post with a silly comfort food dish. After having our first cookout with the neighbors (which I’ll highlight later) I had some leftover hot dogs (on which I’d spent a small fortune; for organic dontcha know). So what better than my first hot dog and bean casserole?! With liberal amounts of fresh tomatoes, ketchup, mustard, sweet onion, and worcestershire sauce, I must confess that it was delicious.

With kale chips on the side cause it isn’t 1950 anymore!

 

farewell to nola

It has been a joy writing these posts. And also apparently folks are appreciating them, since I got a text from my vegetarian best friend begging me to road trip again to New Orleans, with her, and that she would definitely eat seafood (!).

But lest we forget, I wasn’t in New Orleans solely to binge eat on seafood. I mean, I did a lot of that. But the main reason for my presence (and that of my mom and boyfriend) was to celebrate my sister Malindi’s graduation. She worked hard for four years, getting straight A’s her last semester (!!! It’s hard enough to get straight A’s in college- I never did- and particularly your LAST SEMESTER OF SENIOR YEAR) and we were excited to honor her accomplishments.

Reason #982375982379835 that going to my own college was a stupid decision: we never got free anything. By “free”, of course, I don’t mean “free”, I mean “recouping even a tiny percentage of the extraordinary amounts of money the school received from our family”.

Anyway, Tulane excelled at this, particularly at the form of their epic Wave Goodbye party. (Tulane is the Green Wave. Get it?! Get it?!)

All around the beautiful, oak-tree-lined quad, there were little stands that looked like this:

Doesn’t it look like we were at some epic food and wine festival?! They had a DAZZLING, all-you-can eat selection of virtually every New Orleans favorite that could possibly occur to you. Best of all, in miniature portions, so you can eat more. Because obviously one regular meal is equivalent to like… sixteen miniature meals. Right? Right? Hello?

Having tasted a lot of New Orleans specialties already (see above, re: seafood binge eating), I sought out the things I hadn’t tried yet.

Top on my list was the muffaletta. That is because a few months prior, I had tasted one for the first time at my pal Grace's Mardi Gras dinner. And it had kind of made my eyes roll back in my head.

So this happened:

 

It wasn’t as good as Grace’s (I mean, cmon, she made her own rolls; this one was mass produced and a little sloppy) but I think many many things in this world would be enhanced with a slather of zesty-olive chunkiness.

Next on the agenda was crawfish, in the form of crawfish pies (foreground) and crawfish balls (back right). The pies were not dissimilar to empanadas, with a pretty zesty filling. The balls were a feat of nature, managing to be crispy on the outside and utterly soft and dense on the inside, not dissimilar to Spanish croquetas, if you’ve ever had those. My one complaint is that I wish there were LESS on the plate! Steve  and I split the two crawfish plates and there were still leftovers. (Any of you who know Steve in real life or even read this blog regularly will understand that is shocking. In his defense, New Orleans in general was kind of a food O.D., and we were all at this point just trying to keep our bellies from exploding. While still tasting everything, obviously).

There was corn soup and everyone was all “Whoop de doo, corn soup”. Until Malindi actually got it. She took a bite, and her eyes got all wide, and she gave us a taste. And then we all booked it to get creamy creamy buttery buttery ever so slightly spicy corn soup. Plus, in a weak nod to health, a cucumber-watermelon-heirloom tomato-mint salad. Nice, although unevenly distributed between cups. I didn’t get any cute little heirloom tomatoes :(

We were in an epic line for the next item (oh, just wait) so we got some spiced nuts to keep up our strength. You know the sweet, spiced, crunchy, addictive nuts at baseball games? Yeah. Those. Dangerous. Crack-like.

The epic line was for… barbecued oysters! Mega mega amazing amazing enormous barbecued oysters. Drenched in cheese and an herby vinaigrette sort of thing. Who knew, right?! Grilled oysters and parmesan are a very very good thing.

Then we had to make a visit to the dessert department. Another epic line for ice cream.

I opted for the strawberry sorbet and the creme brulee (I didn’t finish these. I feel pathetic having to defend myself about this extraordinary quantity of food. But for the record, I didn’t finish these. But I did have to try my sister’s chocolate, and that one was the best of all and I should’ve just gone for it and gotten three).

Oh and then a slight ADHD moment, where I noticed that the red beans and rice line was really short and I hadn’t had those yet in New Orleans and well…

WORTH IT. So rich and smoky. This is (spoiler alert) the first item I have recreated since coming home from Nola. And, yknow, a complete protein. So there you go.

Shockingly out of character for me, the other desserts struck me as uninteresting. Steve like them okay, but I only had a bite of each (strawberry shortcake and lemon cheesecake. Eh.)

 

But the night was young. In a hilarious turn of events, Erin, our buddy from Americorps, was also in town! What are the odds that two people currently living in Virginia and another person currently living in Texas will randomly be in New Orleans on the exact same night?! So cool. While Steve and I waited for Erin and her buddies to arrive, we sipped sangria.

(love this pic with the moon in the background, Steve!)

And then we were off to Frenchman Street! Also in the French quarter, hopefully slightly less touristy than Bourbon Street. We dipped into a nifty jazz club and got drinks, and then went outside and wandered (getting drinks to go, yet again. Ridiculous).

We stepped into this cool little alleyway, ablaze with Christmas lights, and browsed the wares of local artists. I bought myself a fleur de lis headband for the simple reason that it was $5 and I wanted to remember this lovely night in New Orleans. Then Erin saw it and loved it and wanted one too. Then we were twinsies! Posing with my apparently inebriated boyfriend.

Good times. Thanks for the picture, Erin!

Another crappy night’s sleep ensued. Got home late, were woken up at six am by Malindi’s roommates shouting about curling irons (…)

We went to pick up Malindi and Mom, and motored off to the Superdome. On the way this wretched, wretched cop wrote me a ticket for running a red light because there are BS intersections in New Orleans where you are supposed to somehow know that when turning left, you can’t just turn left because that would be too easy. No, you have to turn left and stop immediately and wait on the median until the cross street has a green light. There is no sign warning you of this. The officer did not care that I had an out of state license plate and my sister was sitting in the backseat in her cap and gown. Ugh. So Steve drove the rest of the way to the Superdome and I sobbed in the backseat.

Graduation was amazing. In lieu of Pomp and Circumstance, a jazz band played wonderfully exuberant New Orleans jazz. The speaker was the Dalai Lama!!!! One point that really struck me from his conversation was that education was a wonderful opportunity but it was important not to isolate yourself as a result of it, and to reach out to the people in the world with less. And to always attempt to form friendships, both as individuals and groups, because with the trust that comes from that, solving all of the world’s problems will be done more collaboratively and more easily too.

A photoshoot with my glamazon sister ensued.

She is second from the left. Fun fact: her pal, furthest left, had been drinking since 6 am!

Then we were off to a VERY exciting lunch. We were pretty certain in advance that it would be amazing, since my mother had been at the dentist and read about them in Food and Wine (!). The name? Cochon. The word for “pig” in French, FYI.

Inside was lovely (sorry, backlight…)

Like seemingly everywhere in New Orleans, they had a great, intriguing cocktail menu.

What would you get?!

Being a celebratory occasion, we were cool with day drinking. Being day, we opted to share. My mom and Malindi split the Honeysuckle Rose, which was great. And Steve and I split The Swinekiller. I mean, rhubarb bitters?!

It was tangy and refreshing. Have no idea what that thing floating in it was, but I dug it.

Mostly small plates happened at lunch (have I adequately given you the impression that we had already eaten A LOT?!)

Steve got two soups. His first gumbo (which he loved, and we all got to taste and admire for its intense smokiness). And another corn soup, since he’d loved the one the previous night so much. This one was chilled, and different, but just as good.

My mom, demonstrating what a balanced, non-neurotic individual she is about food got a virtuous and tasty beet and arugula salad… and fried pork cheek terrine! I had a bite of the cheeks and they were good; nice and crisp on top. Not at all what you’d expect when you hear terrine (or at least we didn’t, we’d all been imagining pate) but unique and very good.

Malindi had a hard time deciding what to order but ultimately just wanted to get something Cochon was famous for. So she got the cochon! It came with little bits of pickled turnips and pork rinds atop. And wow, turns out pork rinds can be really gourmet and delicious!

I was kind of ridiculous with what I got. I knew I wanted small plates, and I knew the crawfish and green tomato gratin was calling my name (I mean come on!)

It arrived and was thoroughly delicious and satisfying. Creamy, flavorful, interesting textures.

And, not thinking all that clearly about all the creamy cheesiness a gratin would entail and still sad and wanting something comforting after getting my stupid ticket I also ordered the macaroni and cheese.

It was delicious, but I was much more interested in my gratin. Fortunately, my mom fell in love with it in a serious (SERIOUS) way. So I passed it over to her end of the table most of the time and a good time was had by all.

We saw some epic slices of pie go past us during the meal, and we knew dessert was a foregone conclusion. Like at every point in this meal, the menu was dazzling and we wanted it all.

But we ultimately opted to share two. The chocolate peanut butter pie was a foregone conclusion, and boy was it great. The crust seemed to have chunks of nuts embedded in it, and was amazing; crunchy and salty and just a little crumbly. The filling was creamy and perfect.

However, no less delicious, and simply categorically different was the pineapple upside down cake. Malindi ultimately opted to order it (we gave the graduate dessert decision making power) because she was intrigued by the presence of cornmeal. And gosh darn it, it was a great choice. The cake had the most wonderfully caramelized outside, and a wonderful, slightly toothsome texture throughout from the presence of the cornmeal. Its sweetness, and the sticky pineapple on top, was perfectly complemented by the slightly tangy ice cream. A unique and lovely spin on a traditional dessert. We all want to make this at home!

We took a bit of time to wander in the area around the restaurant, taking more pictures of Malindi. We returned to The Chimes and hung out in their lovely garden, then went inside for a quick marathon of My Cat from Hell episodes (I completely blame the graduate for this).

And then it was time to go to the ROCK AND BOWL! Malindi’s best friend Sarah had a HUGE contingent of family in town, and they planned to celebrate at this sports spot/music venue. They invited us along, their treat. So nice! So fun!

Aside from being a magnificent bowling alley, it had a bar! Open for party guests. I know beer is a traditional bowling alley beverage, but I don’t like it. So I got a white wine spritzer, which looked a lot like it, so there you go.

 

Rock and bowl has everything you could want from a bowling alley, but also so much more. For example, they cater. They cater AMAZING NEW ORLEANS FOOD. This was my first taste of etouffee on the trip and Lord. Have. Mercy. The big fat crawfish chunks were amazing, and the rich and butter soaked sauce was amazing. I’d never really want to see how it’s made, but it sure went down easy.

Unpictured, there was also tasty jambalaya and salad.

And then, of course, it was time to get our bowl on.

Due to a quirk in putting our information into our alley’s computer, Malindi accidentally played twice. Also Malindi was a dominant force in the game, and did a lot of trash talking about the obviously inferior Malindi.

(Things like this are my family’s lifeblood. We have such bizarre senses of humor. Oh and also we are not good at bowling. Clearly.)

Yet another display of the friendly New Orleans spirit: also having a party at the Rock and Bowl that day was a girl who’d graduated from LSU. She had the most ENORMOUS cake, and when her family barely made a dent in it, started offering it to us.

We politely accepted a slice of our cake, figuring it would be mass-produced and shortening-y. Well, not so! It had the most rich, crumbly, subtly almond-infused vanilla cake, and creamy and delicious frosting. We ate it with gusto!

And then we spent several hours cleaning my sister’s room, and an exhausting 18 hour day driving back to Virginia!

Au revoir, Nouvelle Orleans. It was a blast!