A bit of beauty in food and sky

I should have finished packing by now but instead am procrastinating like it's my job. Have I mentioned to you that I hate packing? Loathe it? Yes, likely a million times. 

In any case, I've got underwear, business cards, a nightgown and toothbrush packed, so clearly I'm in good shape. If BlogHer has changed significantly and all we do is hand out cards from our hotel rooms whilst dressed in pjs.

Alas. It'll happen.

Keeping this short because of the above, but I wanted to share a few bits of beauty with you. The sky some nights back, and last night's dinner: my lovely Manchego and Rosemary Risotto. 

manchego and rosemary risotto

On tap for tonight, the always divine Caramelized Shallot, Cabbage and Tasso Tart. Gotta leave T with some leftovers because #men.

A sit-down dinner for two

It has been long, too long, since I cooked a full and thoughtful meal for T and me. Tired after travel on Saturday, I agreed to ordering in Indian. Last night, we grilled a pizza, per our Sunday tradition.

But today, I contemplated dinner for hours, and while I exercised, marketed, cleaned and organized, I considered what would best pair with what based on the main I'd chosen from an underutilized cookbook: David Lebovitz's My Paris Kitchen. 

Lebovitz's chicken with mustard sauce sounds basic, possibly even banal, but it is anything but. It is a perfect recipe really, with no superfluous ingredients. I'm quite certain it'd be delicious with standard chicken and mustard, dried thyme and average wine, but if you go just a bit above and beyond -best-quality chicken, French mustard, fresh thyme, wine so lovely you almost hate to deglaze the pan with it- you will be richly rewarded. The sauce alone could be slathered atop dirt and still be well received. 

David Leibovitz's Chicken with Mustard Sauce (from My Paris Kitchen)

I saw, today at the market, one of my favorite fresh pastas: spring pea tortelloni. Wouldn't that be lovely alongside the chicken? Yes! And how about some sautéed snow peas too? Indeed. I tossed both (cooked separately of course) with lemony brown butter and mint, white pepper and salt, and they served as hearty and light and healthy accompaniments respectively. 

For dessert, a lemon-lime glazed cake. Refreshing, summery and the perfect fit for my new cake stand, a beautiful piece I've been coveting for some time. I bought it with some of the money I made from my last canning class. It is such a delight to earn my own money and spend it on small extravagances for myself and others.

Running on empty

God it was nice to have a rainless day today. We in DC are so soggy; mushrooms, those fungal lovers of humid wetness, are sprouting everywhere like Jon Hamm's beard ten minutes after he shaves. Every morning this past week, I've had to drain various pots on my deck as the flowers within weren't meant to grow hydroponically. It's all very swampy to say the least.

Our beautiful Jack turned nine yesterday morning, and we celebrated all day. Berries and whipped cream for breakfast, a fair amount of Indiana Jones Wii during the morning storm, a race to play mini-golf as the skies cleared around lunchtime. A good mini-golf course is such fun, and I got two holes in one, but who counted. 

Back home to prep for an early-evening dinner and party with Tom's parents. The kids are really lucky to be growing up near grandparents; I am still grateful for having lived so close to Nanny and Papa.  

We had flank steak and corn, cucumber and dill salad, and the ice cream cake that took two days to craft: vanilla ice cream, some sort of chocolate cookie with two chocolate sauces thing, mint chocolate chip ice cream, cream frosting. 

Jack was thrilled with everything and ate like a horse and then, bless his heart, he said he was too tired to stay up for fireworks and could we go another year. Uh, yes!

Today was long, y'all. Not bad but a real marathon. As it comes to a close, I find myself hoping desperately that family life starts to feel easier at some point. That the intensity lessens so that we can all breathe as much as we need to and when. 

I recognize that the boys' curious, spirited, joyful natures are gifts. Those qualities are the fires that will propel them to live large and expansively, to care deeply about and stand for things, to love and learn and make the world a brighter place. And I am grateful for all of that. But I also shrug, pretty much daily, under the weight of parenting it all; of reining them in and pushing them out. Of steering and guiding and molding and tending. Of deciding and supporting and being there always. 

On Tuesday, I fly them down to Louisiana for the annual Big Boys Week. I'll stay through Saturday and then return home alone. That departure is always difficult. What if something happened? Won't the house be quiet! What if they need me? 

But I also know how very much I need and am lucky to get this break. That life is hard enough without coasting into bed each night on nothing more than fumes. That one day when they move away, I will be happy that I tended to my marriage and own identity during these years, even though I sometimes feel I'm only doing those things minimally and on little more than vapor.

Go USA Women's Soccer!!!