Fabulous anniversary dinner at Blue Duck (and I wore "the shoes")

Last night, I donned "the shoes" (and the skirt I bought to go with them), and T whisked me downtown to Blue Duck for our 10th anniversary dinner. He'd not yet  been but based on my wildly enthusiastic reviews, was really excited. It did not disappoint!

I started with a glass of Moet Rosé Imperial and was reminded that truly, it is perfection in a flute. So when our waiter offered to treat me to a second glass in honor of our night, you can be sure I agreed. T, of course, started with a beer, an IPA from Port City in VA. I thought about ordering the Wagyu filet but ultimately decided on the Braised Beef Rib because the thought of fall-apart tender sounded decadent and easy. That plus a Baby Wedge with Green Goddess Dressing sounded like a winning pair, and then T and I also decided to share an order of the BD grits which drive me positively wild.

When this lovely salad arrived, I dove in, eager for a non-iceberg Wedge (bless you, Blue Duck; I can think of nothing redeeming about iceberg lettuce.) It was fresh and pretty but not great; the dressing wasn't punchy enough, and it was either too loose or the lettuce hadn't been dried quite thoroughly enough because there was a watery'ness that you just don't want in a salad. I want my dressing to enliven the foundation and fun additions and to stick right to them so that effortlessly I get the flavor in every bite.

The braised rib, on the other hand, was downright amazing. When it was placed in front of me, I told Tom, "Wow, I can't wait to make a sandwich with my leftovers tomorrow" because really, this was an eNORmous rib. I then proceeded to eat the entire thing. Literally people, the whole honking rib. With the grits. Which together was manna from heaven, albeit unbelievably rich manna. And I washed it all down with a wonderful glass of Zin from Quivira.

Meanwhile, T chose the 12-hour Suckling Pig and the Asparagus Salad with Parm, a Fried Hen Egg and Guanciale. Doesn't the latter sound outrageously good? It really was. Just delicious!

I did not photograph the suckling pig because s.p. does not make me happy. T enjoyed it immensely though he said it was rich beyond belief. And, a complete grit-skeptic, he nonetheless felt they were superb and ate his full share! And ordered a Delirium Tremens.

We were full but how we could we not have a celebratory dessert? Not least since we were having a ball and next to us was the quietest couple ever to dine together. He was so thin I thought he was a stick person, and she had enormous hair and kept looking at him as she pecked at her chicken, and I swear I'm not sure they even breathed. So I rather felt we had to have some fun for them. And we did. We ordered the Rocky Road Cookie which came warm and gooey with toasted marshmallows on top and vanilla ice cream. But our waiter also brought us a cup of cardamom-coffee (white? still) ice cream that was fabulous, and I must have one of these gelato cups because it's so appealing. We ate all of this too.

Finally we were done. We settled up with our waiter who was sort of like Stanley Tucci meets a wannabe spy (he swore six ways to Sunday that he worked for the Japanese government, couldn't say more and travels there often; his work at BD is seasonal and just for travel money. All possible of course, but T and I looked at each other and simultaneously said, "Lie.") though very nice, walked out to our car and drove home in happy satiety. There waiting for us were my sister who is so preciously pregnant with a little boy of her own and Jack who couldn't sleep. And then my parents arrived and finally we all went to bed, and I ended up moving from my bed to Jack's and then to Oliver's all before 6am and I feel like a nauseous load of dung right now but a happy one at that.

So cheers to great food and drink and happy marriages and family and friends and kids and love. Have a good one!

10 Years

Ten years ago, I married this guy!! We honeymooned in Mexico, moved to Amsterdam, moved back to Boston and got some graduate degrees, moved to Virginia, got a dog, had a baby, moved to DC, had another baby, got a cat and today we celebrate ten years. It's been a thrilling ride, dearest T. I love you so much!!

An open letter to readers and writers of blogs

I started this blog in 2011 because I wanted to create something, a space of my own to write about and photograph my interests, record my memories and connect with others. I promised myself that I would be authentic and honest, that I would honor my voice and my truths. My favorite writers and people, those I most admire and feel appreciative of, are those who do that, who live their lives without fear -or too much fear- of what others will say. Having spent many years trying to be what I thought others wanted me to be, say what I thought others wanted me to say, this blog was to be my haven for a contrary way of living. During the past three+ years, I have done just this. I have honed my voice, my writing skills and what comedic chops I have. I have written about what pains me as well as what thrills me, drives me batty, makes me burst with pride. I have figured out so, so much about myself and my rhythms, I know with deep conviction what I believe, what I respect, what I value. I also know the "what I don'ts" to all those. This is all inordinately fulfilling and enriching.

To put oneself out there, to put myself out there, is often scary. It takes courage and a desire to connect, both of which derive from a writerly sense of needing to share via the written word and a belief in the connections that come only when we are open and honest with each other. It has been remarkable to me just how many people - friend, acquaintance and stranger- have reached out to me with thanks, with gratitude for the very openness that at times seems so risky.

As does anyone who writes and shares publicly though, the negative, bad-vibey, condescending feedback can feel disproportionately large at times. It can make a writer's voice shrink from its mean glare, it can make us feel shamed or uncertain. I am lucky to have experienced very few of these comments but they trip me up. My stomach aches, I doubt what I'm doing, I pull back, and then...

And then I feel an anger and a redoubled determination to continue with my work. No one has to read anything I write, no one has to agree or even understand. At the end of the day, I write for me. I think many of us bloggers do. We write to make sense of, to understand our lives, the good and the bad. We write to remember it all, to become more familiar with ourselves. That we do so in a public forum is because we feel certain that there are others out there experiencing and struggling with the exact same things, wanting to read about exactly the plum tart we just made and devoured, dying to find yet another photo of a cat or a garden, looking to laugh alongside another person whose children are obsessed with butts or whose partner has the craziest pecadillos.

Not everyone is comfortable with sharing, but it's my way of better understanding life. It provides me comfort when times are tough, and yes, people, times are tough for each and every one of us at some or many times. No need to judge, no need to condescend.

To all the writers and bloggers forging ahead each day, I say Cheers!

To all the readers who support our endeavors, I say thank you!

And to the naysayers and negative joes who seem to delight in casting dark shadows, I say, Scram! Go rain on your own parade!