Salted Caramel Ice Cream
Grandma Mary keeping a close watch on four of her grandchildren.
There’s really no polite way to put this, so I’ll just come right out with it–my Grandma Mary (my paternal grandmother) was a terrible cook. Rotten. During my teenage years, my grandparents moved to the same town as us, and that meant holiday dinners at their house. Without fail, the Tuesday or so before Thanksgiving Thursday, my dad would look at his watch and declare, “Well, mom just put the green beans on the burner.” Green bean soup, we called it. And in all honestly, it was the only thing edible on the holiday table.
In her defense, there were a couple of recipes she did exceptionally well, which make me think of her memory whenever I make them. One is for caramel ice cream. It’s taken from a recipe passed down to her by her own mother, Fey, my great-grandmother known as Gram.
You might find it funny to be posting a recipe for ice cream in November. But let me tell you, you’ll think nothing of it when you’ve got a great heaping spoonful of this Salted Caramel Ice Cream sitting on top of a piping hot slice of pecan pie in a couple of weeks. No sir. The salt was my addition, as I think salt and caramel go together like ebony and ivory. Sweet harmony.
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Postcards from Dubai
Eric and I figured this would be a good place to write you because this city is way more than people realize and it’s been one of our favorite stops.
As promised, a check in with Eric & Beth, our friends from the blog El Mundo. The first postcard proves to be a good one … Dubai, a great stop on their trip around the world.
Since in today’s tech age the physical postcard has now been altered to text messaging, here’s the abbreviated summary with photos…
فِعْل : يستمتع بـ . يَنْعَم بـ
(English translasion from Arabic–enjoy!)
Get Out the Map
Our friends Eric and Beth are traveling the world. They are currently on the road (and airplane, and boat) for the next half year (give or take). So, they’ll be popping in from time to time with trip updates and postcards of their journey. Of course I had loads of questions for them regarding a trip such as this, which made the interview quite fun.
Here’s my Q&A session with Beth just before she joined Eric on their trip. Friday, I’ll check back in with them in Dubai. Also, be sure to follow all their travels and updates on their fantastic blog, El Mundo.
A Hipster in Faux-Sheep Clothing
I was at an event a while back and one of the main topics of discussion was the definition of a hipster. Folks, these are not brain surgery conversations. No one is splayed out across an operating table.
The word actually originated in the 1940s, used to describe those on the fringe of society (first used to define the Jazz subculture). But, for argument’s sake, here are a few things that I’ve come up with; all based on my own observations as to what truly defines the modern day hipster (which, by the way, isn’t considered outskirts any longer). Any combination of these items matter and not a whole lot changes the scope with gender (except for noted facial hair).
1. Occupation
2. Attire
3. Overall Appearance
4. Hobbies
5. Ride
6. Family
Rolling into Santa Cruz
The simple story behind Santa Cruz (situated on the Monterey Bay) is this–in the 1960s the counterculture boom made things in San Fran a bit too crowded, so the intellectual crowd headed South, to Santa Cruz. So, the answer is yes, Dionne Warwick, they do know the way to San Jose (that’s the nearest major city in proximity to SC), a.k.a. Silicon Valley.
My twin sister’s favorite book is John Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley. It’s pretty fitting because she’s a journey seeker, and the whole book is an account of Steinbeck’s road trip with his standard poodle named Charley. So when she moved to Santa Cruz, California from Baltimore, Maryland this summer, she actually did what so many of us (me, me, me) dream about doing–taking weeks to travel to her new home. She visited friends and family along the way stopping and enjoying the drive as much as the destination. Even camped solo (so brave) in some of the most inspiring places in North America. One early morning before dawn in the Badlands, she woke up to a bison stampede … beats an alarm clock any day.
Now that she is settled in SC, my older sister and I met up with my twin for a bit of a girly get-away. We’ve all been busy this year. My older sister has a big-wig job, a husband who travels for his job, and two kiddos under the age of four. My twin just uprooted her life (new job, said new town, and end of an 8-year relationship), and me–I’ve been a bit buried in both work and worry lately, so it was due time to whip out the mascara and skinny jeans. But, really, more like cut-offs and tank tops, as that’s more the way they roll…
The point in my story about my twin’s travels to get to Santa Cruz is that that’s pretty much what we did there. We stopped and took a moment to digest it all. We visited with friends and family, saw some of the prettiest places in Nor Cal, and just slowed down. If you ever need a little (or a lot of) space to clear your head–Santa Cruz squarely fits the bill. Here’s a bit about our trip, and my favorite spots along the way. This week, the pop on Eddie Vedder’s muse–Santa Cruz.
The Unknown Abyss
How I wonder what you are.
As a child, I was obsessed with outer space. If I had to guess now, it was more likely the idea of a vast universe with all sorts of matter floating around. It intrigued me and filled my mind with curiosity for years, the existential questions of what is really out there, the unknown. Because I’m so familiar with these thoughts in my own mind, I often wonder why is it so scary, the unknown? I’ve always wrestled with it. Now, the full disclosure–after thinking our life was going one way, it’s clearly not.
This was supposed to be our baby year. This was supposed to be my writing year. This was the husband gets a promotion at work year so I could have both the writing and us working on trying for a baby. Then, the economy tanked, just after I’d started up my business.
Then, my husband’s company kept eliminating positions until finally, while I was in California (which you’ll read all about next week) visiting my sister, my husband calmly (err, sort of calmly) told me he’d been laid off. The news was delivered in a tone I recognized from five years prior when I was post-appendectomy with my husband tearing through the Piedmont Hospital hallway screaming, “My wife is throwing up!” and me sitting in the mechanical bed covered in vomit wearing my coke bottle glasses, crying, “I don’t know why you love me!” We really know how to hold it together, the both of us.
It didn’t come as a huge surprise. We’d been waiting for this day for a while, as the writing has been on the wall for ages now. But, if you ignore it enough, it goes away, right? Let me tell you, waiting for the shoe to drop doesn’t make it any less scary. Or easier. So, there’s quite a bit of unknowns at the moment. More than I can begin to wrap my head around.
Birds of a Feather
Co-ops and collectives are nothing new. Forms of them date back to the both the Agricultural and Industrial Revolutions in the 18th and 19th centuries. But, lately, there’s been a bit of resurgence, and I’m not complaining.
I like the idea of a joint venture of like-minded folks and ideas. Particularly in this economy, the business model has morphed, and if you haven’t changed with it, you just might be folding. My friend, Amy Leavell Bransford of New Moon Skincare so gets that.
Amy is a lot of things (wife, momma of two adorable sons, daughter of the great environmentalist and musician Chuck Leavell … yes, that Chuck Leavell – the Rolling Stones keyboardist and of the Mother Nature Network). But, one of the things I admire most about her is her business sense. She is one the best estheticians in Atlanta and is the only Dr. Hauschka trained and certified person in the state of Georgia. Recently she launched Aviary, her idea of a beauty collective … this little house of creative, organic beauty has some very busy birds…
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The Lost Years
I sure liked the Mardi Gras beads.
You know you’re getting older when your dream car becomes a Volvo XC70 and if you came across a pile of moolah you’d buy a front load washer and dryer set. But, I wasn’t always like this–so mapped out. Well, I was in how I grew up, as that was quite controlled with the path mostly laid, but once I broke out of my parents’ house the compass sort of went off kilter for a while.
I think this happens to a lot of children brought up in strict households once they leave home. They go buck effing wild. I’m incredibly thankful that, for me, this occurred pre-internet and youtube boom–but still, I know there are pictures floating around that would make it impossible for me to run for political office (if that was an aspiration of mine, which thankfully, it is not). Most are tame, maybe in the realm of Girls Gone Wild and whatnot, but cringe-worthy nonetheless.
It’s a period in my life that I’m not particularly proud of–about a six-year span (roughly 18 to 23ish). I sort of wish I could forget (parts of it, ironically, are very fuzzy), but I know those moments made me who I am today–the whole me. Never in my life have I been so off course and confused than I was during those years. In short, I was lost. September marks the start of many college freshmen settling into campus life, and potentially the start of the wander off the laid path.
Surf Diva
Surf Diva Head Instructor, Crystal Simpson | Photo by Moses Slovatizki | Property of Surf Diva
The word diva has gotten a bad rap. Maybe it’s from the press getting their hands on Mariah Carey’s tour rider or some D-list reality “star” traveling with a 10 + entourage complete with an assistant and a hair extension team. All I know is you generally don’t want to be called one.
But, this was not always the case. The origins of the word come from the Latin word for goddess, or the feminine of god. See, no bad connotation there.
Twin sisters Izzy and Coco are divas, but of the best kind … of the surf. I’ve been a fan of their company, Surf Diva for years and every so often I’ll email my sisters with pleas of heading to one of its two locales for a full week of surfing–with outlets in Costa Rica and California, honestly, it’s hard to choose…
As you read this, I’m packing for a trip to Santa Cruz with my sisters, where I’m hoping surfing is in order. Until then, an interview with the Surf Divas themselves will have to suffice–we talk fashion, fitness, family, and the surf culture.
Dream Kitchen
Photograph by Keith Scott Morton for Metropolitan Home
What’s one of the most remodeled rooms in a house and the space that most families gravitate towards? No huge surprise here, the kitchen is the winner, winner, chicken dinner.
From the sleekest barware around, to the ultimate java junkie’s espresso machine splurge, to cooking items for the kiddos – my wish list roundup for the latest and greatest well-stocked dream kitchen.
