The Pop Five

We have very little plans this weekend, which couldn’t suit me more. We’re going to walk this on Sunday (our new weekend ritual) and go to dinner at my cousin’s house tonight. It will be fantastic to catch up with family. Have a lovely weekend!

Hawks, particularly red-tailed ones, fascinated my father and after years of seeing several circle our backyard, one has taken up residence in a tree. Dan finally captured an image of him in all his glory.

I’m obsessed with my friend Jen’s gorgeous accessories company, SOMA Goods. Not only is it all absolutely beautiful, but there’s a much stronger purpose to the line. Each pillow is locally handmade in Atlanta by refugees. Read more about the company philosophy and shop the online store, here.

On President’s Day five years ago our sweet boy, Otis, came to live with us. I’ll never forget it. Dan had the day off for the holiday and when the puppy arrived he reportedly was shaking like a leaf. Otis is the ultimate seat stealer, a toilet paper-eating fool, and one of the great loves of my life. He was the first dog Dan and I have every owned and I’m so very grateful for him choosing us.

I just finished this piece in Sunday’s The New York Times T Magazine on Lee Radziwill’s extraordinary life. It makes me wish I lived in a time where people took great care in everything – from what to wear to styling a home. It seems such a far cry from today’s world of overexposure with tweets and instagrams of a daily existence and people referring to each other as a brand. Radziwill is so incredibly chic. Sigh.

Image: Radziwill at home with her daughter, Tina, in a room designed by Mongiardino in London in 1966. Cecil Beaton/Vogue/Condé Nast

Dan and I had a date night on Saturday night and it was glorious. Pizza, wine, and adult conversations were all shared at the table. To top it all of, we actually came home to a sleeping baby. Pretty perfect.

 

Story Time

For my baby shower, guests were asked to help stock Margaret’s library with their favorite childhood book. For this writer, it makes me so excited to share my love of the written word with my daughter. The book choices that she was given were incredible. Corduroy (which was my husband’s absolute favorite), The Quiet Book, The Story of Ferdinand, Madeline, On the Night You Were Born, Gossie and Gertie, and so many other gems I’ve already started reading to her.

It got me thinking of some of my favorites as a child. I couldn’t get enough of Charlotte’s Web and James and the Giant Peach. I adored Ramona Quimby, and later the Baby Sitter’s Club series, the Wakefield twins in Sweet Valley High, and anything by Judy Blume.

My friend, Kyle, gifted Margaret The Secret Garden, for when she’s older, since it’s a bit mature. It was one I’d never read. Originally published in 1911, it wasn’t until this year that I realized what a treasure it is.

Do books today stand the test of time like those written by E.B. White, Frances Hodgson Burnett, and Roald Dahl? Are there books written now that are destined to be classics? Is there anything you’ve read recently that will translate more than a century later?

Tin, Man

This year, Dan and I celebrate our 10-year wedding anniversary. It’s hard to believe that we’ve been together as a couple for 12 years! I really want to go to the UK, but with Margaret, home renovations, and just life, it’s out of our budget, unfortunately. Ten-year anniversary gifts traditionally come in the form of tin, but I’d take a trip somewhere over pretty much any other present.

Like I so often do when it’s rainy and dreary in Atlanta (which it was the bulk of week), I’ve been daydreaming of places I’d like to travel to. For now, in lieu of London, we’re thinking of heading back to either New Orleans or Charleston, which happen to be our two favorite cities. Both are very special to us and are quite romantic, which is a bonus when you’re celebrating such a relationship milestone.

Or maybe we’ll just take our usual respite to Siesta Key since October there is one of the best months to visit. The weather is perfect, the beaches aren’t crowded, and you feel like you have the whole town to yourself. Plus, we’d be able to celebrate at this spot, which we love.

We still have time to decide, but for now, a girl can make a wish list.

The Pop Five

This week’s juggling act of writing and Margaret seemed Herculean. Most of the time I feel like I’ve struck the jackpot with a relatively easy baby and a career that’s flexible, but this week tried to make me a liar on both accounts. I’m quite certain Margaret is teething and in a growth spurt, making her what I call, Grumpasaurus Rex. That and I’ve finally come to face the honest fact that I cannot write whenever the whim may strike me, which has pretty much always been the case. As a creative person who really likes to dive into projects, admitting and actually letting go of that freedom is very tough.

We have pretty low-key plans this weekend. We’ll likely watch this, which is about the only Wes Anderson movie I haven’t seen. And my best friend offered to sit for Margaret on Saturday night, so Dan and I will be having our first grown-up date night since October! Here are the highlights from my week.

My friend Liz launched a creative studio in Cincinnati and she’s working on the collateral materials for this fantastic denim company. I just love the vibe I get from both sites.

So these arrived this week. Oh dear. This is gonna get ugly. #elasticwaistband

Petals on morning dog walk.

Margaret is getting into the habit of giving riveting speeches in the middle of the night. The word of my week is orator.

ATL-based the Quiet Hounds celebrate its first anniversary with a live stream performance on February 24. I cannot wait. Find out more at quiethounds.com.

Kahlúa Truffle Triangles

We all know the way to most hearts is through the stomach. With that in mind, one of the best food bloggers around, Dixie Caviar, was so kind to share her recipe for Kahlúa truffle triangles that will surely have your love swoon this Valentine’s Day.

From Dixie Caviar

Contrary to popular belief, and despite my blog’s name, I cannot claim a “signature” dish. I do not have a restaurant-worthy dinner rotation (just ask my fiancé) and oftentimes I forage my pantry for Nutella and call it lunch. As a full-time food writer, recipe developer, and cooking instructor, I really ought to be ashamed of myself.

I am a complete culinary commitment-phobe, you see, and the thought of making the same thing twice literally makes me cringe. Despite trying hundreds of recipes over the years, most of them actually quite good, I can never seem to settle on just one. In fact, I can’t seem to settle on any.

My fiancé—a creature of habit—has begun to complain. He begs for the chicken & mushroom lasagna I made that one time, and pleads for the black bean enchiladas I whipped up just last year. My answer, poor guy, is typically no. I’m either in search of my next delicious discovery, or worse, pawning off cupcakes and cookies as dinner. (It gets old, I swear.)

Then again, there are those Kahlúa truffle triangles I discovered only a few short years ago. It was Valentine’s Day and I was hoping to impress a very new beau. I’m not sure if it was the buttery shortbread crust, the silky smooth chocolate filling, or perhaps even me, but he took a liking to something that day. The very next year I made those same decadent triangles, in hopes of keeping cupid’s sweet spark alive. And the year after that? He asked when I was making the truffles?

Here we are five years later, and he’s still my one and only Valentine. We don’t really celebrate the holiday, but even so, I am looking forward to spending the night lounging on the couch, wedged in between our farting, drooling children bulldogs. We’ll watch old movies and eat cold delivery pizza (Domino’s Black Box, my favorite!), and it’ll be perfect. To finish, we’ll nibble on a batch of those same Kahlúa truffle triangles. Or wait. Since I’ve made them five times, perhaps I should call them my “signature” dish?

Kahlúa Truffle Triangles
Adapted from Fine Cooking
Yields: approximately 36 triangles

For the crust:
6-3/4 ounces (1-1/2 cups) all-purpose flour
3 ounces (3/4 cup) confectioners’ sugar
1/4 teaspoon table salt
6 ounces (12 tablespoons) cold, unsalted butter, cubed
1/2 teaspoon vanilla bean paste or pure vanilla extract

For the filling:
1 pound good-quality semisweet chocolate chips (Ghirardelli or Guittard)
3/4 cup whole or 2% milk
4 ounces (8 tablespoons) unsalted butter, cubed
4 large eggs
2/3 cup granulated sugar
3 tablespoons Kahlúa

For the crust: Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line the bottom and sides of a 9×13-inch baking pan with foil, allowing foil to hang over the long sides of the pan to act as handles for removing the cookie later. Lightly butter the foil.

Combine the flour, confectioners’ sugar, and salt in the bowl a food processor. Process the dry ingredients to combine, about 15 seconds. Scatter the cold butter pieces and the vanilla over the flour mixture and pulse on and off until the dough becomes crumbly, about 45 seconds – 1 minute, being careful not to overmix.

Pour the mixture into the prepared pan. Press the dough firmly but quickly into a smooth, even layer. Bake for 20 -24 minutes, until the crust is very pale golden on the inside and golden-brown around the edges. Be careful not to overbake or the crust will be hard and crispy. (I have tendency to err towards caution and remove it on the early side, since it cooks a bit more in the pan.) Transfer the pan to a cooling rack and begin the filling.

For the filling: Lower the oven temperature to 325°F.

Combine the chocolate, milk, and butter in the bowl of a double boiler (or a medium glass bowl set over simmering water) and heat until just chocolate is just melted, whisking occasionally until the mixture is smooth. Set aside to cool slightly.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (or with a hand-held electric mixer) beat the eggs, sugar, and Kahlúa on medium speed for 2 minutes, until foamy and light. Add the cooled chocolate mixture, then beat on medium speed until well blended, about 30 seconds, stopping occasionally to scrape down the bottom and sides of the bowl.

Pour the chocolate batter over the baked crust and spread to distribute evenly. Bake until the sides are slightly puffed and a toothpick inserted near the center comes out wet and gooey, but not liquid, 30 to 35 minutes. (I usually pull it at exactly 30 minutes. It may seem a tad wet in the center, but it cooks a bit more while it cools.) Transfer the pan to a wire rack to cool. (The center may sink a little bit; the recipe says to use your fingertips to gently press the edges down to the level of the center, but I just leave it be, and later cut the edges off for snacking.)

When completely cool, cover with plastic and refrigerate until very cold, at least 12 hours or up to 2 days. Remove from the refrigerator for 5 -10 minutes. Remove the rectangle from the pan by gently lifting the foil out, using a large spatula if necessary. Place on a cutting board and carefully peel away the foil from the bottom and the sides.

Prepare a large glass of hot water and dampen a dish towel with warm water. Heat the knife in the water for a few seconds. First cut away the edges of the rectangle (for snacking!), dipping the knife blade in the hot water and wiping clean after each cut.

Cut the rectangle crosswise into 1-1/2 inch long strips. (If the chocolate seems to be getting a little soft, refrigerate the strips for a few minutes before continuing on.) Cut the strips into 2-inch bars, continuing to warm and wipe the blade after each cut.

Cut each bar in half diagonally to make triangles. Place triangles on a large sheet pan, cover in plastic wrap and refrigerate until ready to serve (up to two days). Let sit at room temperature for 5 minutes before serving.

Reread

It’s interesting the things you find after someone is long gone. Revisiting that box of letters from an old boyfriend tucked inside a childhood bedroom closet at your parents’ house is like visiting another life. Your teenage self, falling in and out of love.

Mine is a more permanent lost and found. It’s deeper than the nostalgic first love–it’s the loss of a parent, and that feeling of the missing never quite goes away. They say losing a parent, no matter if you’re 14, 24, or 64, it changes you significantly and in ways you cannot imagine. You’re forced to grow up and deal with something those around you aren’t quite equipped to understand (unless they’ve been through it themselves).

Every so often I’ll stumble on a couple of things from my father that will stop me dead in my tracks. Above all, it is his inscription on two reference books I use often for work (yes, sometimes, I actually use books in lieu of Google). One is a soft cover, torn from age and use, military issue word division style manual published in 1984. The inscription reads (in his very recognizable all caps):

3 APR 1986
DEAR DANA.
I HOPE THIS BOOK HELPS, IN SOME SMALL WAY, YOU ACHIVE YOUR DREAMS IN SPACE.
LOVE,
DAD

That was my astronaut phase. Before I realized I was incredibly claustrophobic and needed solid math skill set to do anything pertaining to the sciences.

The other, the hard back Merriam Webster’s Collegiate Tenth Edition Dictionary given to me as a stocking stuffer that couldn’t quite fit in the stocking one Christmas.

Inside it has Presented to, By, and Date printed by the book manufacture all ready for someone gifting to fill out, which my father did.

Presented to MY LOVELY DANA
MAY THE WORDS AND THE TRUTH ALWAYS COME EASY FOR YOU. YOUR SUCCESS INSPIRES ME!! LOVE, FOREVER DRH
By HER FATHER
Date DECEMBER 25, 1994

Because of this, I always try to take my time when filling out cards or book inscriptions. You never know if these might be the last words someone is left with that they’ll reread over and over again.

The Pop Five

This weekend our good friend, Scott, is visiting from NYC (as long as the Nor’easter doesn’t wreck the plans). So while Dan and Scott will likely find themselves in drunken scenarios, I’m anxiously awaiting the arrival of three reclaimed wood shelves that’ll go in our kitchen and office. Wow, our weekends couldn’t look more different.

We had such a great time at our best friends’ Super Bowl party on Sunday. They did the most fantastic spread—a nacho bar! It was awesome and such a fun idea for hosting a party.

My friend Asha popped by recently with a gift for Margaret and also for me. She gave me the word to your mother pendant from her gorgeous collection. It’s a sweet disc with mom written in nine languages. Tear.

I somehow missed Arrested Development when it originally aired. We’ve been breezing through episodes on Netflix and are pretty much obsessed with the Bluth family. Dan and I find ourselves, saying, “Hey Buddy” to the dog in the tone of Buster’s, “Hey, Brother” and shout Gob’s, “Come On!” almost daily. So far, Motherboy XXX is my favorite episode yet.

© 2003-2004 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation

After Margaret was born I stopped going to group meditation, a practice I’ve been doing for several years now. I so missed it, but this article from readwrite.com gives a good overview on a free app designed to help calm the mind.

My mom is ridiculously sweet. She still sends all four of us kids care packages (just like when we were in college) for Valentine’s Day and Easter. This year’s V-Day haul included a candle, a kitchen towel, a bib for Margaret, and loads of so-not-needed chocolate!

Pass it On

Growing up, my mother had a saying. It was something along the lines of killing a bear, skinning it, and serving it for dinner, if she only had one hour. I now have a pretty good idea of what she meant. Children make time management something of an art form. A ridiculously cute and well-worth it art form, mind you.

My mother’s line came directly from her grandmother, Lucy. The hardest working woman she knew. Lucy raised six boys (one of which was my late grandfather that Margaret shares a birthday with), a husband battling MS, the never-ending task of tending to the farm where they lived, and she managed to put herself through school to become a nurse. Talk about gumption.

After having Margaret, it got me thinking about all those things we pick up along the way from family and the nuggets of information I want to make sure she retains. The saying above is important, I think, especially for girls—gossip is toxic and does no one any good. Another one I want to instill in her is the notion of how a lady dresses.

Not to sound like a prude, but I read once, and it stuck with me, that a woman should only show one asset at a time. If you choose a short hemline on a dress, a plunging neckline is a no-no … one or the other, not both. I think that’s a good rule to follow. I mean I certainly don’t want Margaret to walk out of the house at age 15 in Beyonce’s leather getup from the Super Bowl halftime show. They didn’t have that particular quote on Pinterest—Thou shall not let ye daughter look like she works in the red light district.

Image: Courtesy of fashionchalet.tumblr.com

Ugh, Uggs

I have a love hate relationship with Uggs. Meaning most people love them and I hate them. It doesn’t get much more ugly than a glorified moonboot, and style-wise that’s absolutely what they are. The only exception is baby Uggs, which are just the cutest things ever.

I wholly believed all this until I had the baby that wore the Uggs. On social media, more than once, I’ve knocked such Ugg disasters as the I Do wedding collection and its collaboration with Jimmy Choo. Now, I cannot get enough.

I’ll even admit to having not one, but now two, pairs myself. I’ve now become the person that goes from my Ugg house slippers to boots and back to slippers again. Both pairs are like slipping into a stretched out sweatshirt or your favorite pair of jeans, each looking a little worse for wear, but there’s no way you’d part with them.

I used to think Uggs were made for high school and college girls living in either the Midwest or California, but no, they were created for moms. I wear them to the grocery store, to yoga, to walk the dog around the neighborhood. Seriously. All. The. Time. I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of a car the other day while walking Otis, and I hardly recognized myself with my yoga pants and Uggs pushing a stroller. If only my 20-year-old wild self could see me now.

And when I’m at the aforementioned places, I see all the other moms doing the same thing. It’s like our own secret code of yeah, we’re too tired to even tie our shoes, but man, these boots are cozy and warm, no matter that they are super ugly.

Ugh. Uggs.

The Pop Five

I know it feels stale to talk about things like the weather and just how fast time is moving, but seriously, it’s already February and Topeka, Kansas had a record high of 77° on Monday—whoa to both. This week’s pop five images are captured in my favorite form … Instagram.

Last Saturday, we walked a chunk of the Beltline in Atlanta. It makes me so proud of this city. The project is amazing. In a nutshell, it connects intown neighborhoods with each other through a paved path. It’s awesome for biking, running, walking, skating. There’s even a killer skatepark (which Tony Hawk’s foundation helped fund), and public artwork throughout. It’s exactly the sort of spot every major city needs to link its community together.

I feel like I want to spend time in the kitchen again. After Margaret was born, Dan and I were eating purely for sustenance, and I’m back to cooking meals we enjoy that take a bit more prep work than say grilled chicken over a bed of greens. We tag-teamed shrimp and grits on Sunday night. I prepped everything, Dan put it all together as I fed Margaret, and by the time we ate she was out like a light. I have so missed grown up dinners.

These days, Mother Goose rules the roost in our house. I’d forgotten how great nursery rhymes are. Well, almost all—Wee Willie Winkie is totally crepy. What’s up with him running through town in his nightgown? Yeah—a grown man running around in bedtime attire, that sounds totally normal.

#throwbackthursday and #flashbackfriday are a fun excuse to rummage through iPhoto images. I posted this gem from our wedding day. #firstdance

I’m not exactly into sports, especially football, but I love game day eats. Can’t wait for Sunday’s spread. #nomnom