Gianduja, great wine at Ripple, cheese straws and more

Today I finally got around to making the homemade gianduja recipe I've had my eye on for a couple weeks now. I thought it'd be a great holiday gift for some of J's teachers and as we'd get to enjoy any extras, all the better. Gianduja, or chocolate-hazelnut, is a flavor I discovered most memorably via Italian gelato. There, gianduja is ubiquitous throughout Tuscan (and surely cuts a wider swath but I've spend most time in Tuscany visiting my sister) gelaterias, and I usually get a scoop of it alongside one of pistachio, a beautiful, transportive combo of tastes that never fails to melt my butter.

Though I couldn't find shelled hazelnuts anywhere lately and now have a calloused hand from nutcracking a pound and a half of them, this was fun to make and is delicious. Weck jars always make for a lovely presentation and with a small porcelain spoon and festive dishtowel...well, I'd love to receive this treat!

I think I'm now going to move on to cheese straws and gumbo though I'm not yet sure which to start in on first. The boys gave T a stove-top popcorn making pot for Christmas and we let him open it early, today, as they had plans for a Sunday MythBusters together. Pretty cute, fun pot!

Last night, T and I went out to eat at Ripple, a local fave of ours. I love the inventive dishes its chef, Logan Cox, puts together. His risks don't always work but they're always fun to try and often really excellent and memorable. I got my standby dish, the composed seasonal veggies with goat yogurt and black cardamom which, with the winter veggies, was downright fabulous. T started with a wonderfully light roasted delicata squash soup which had the most marvelously layered flavors. For my entree I ordered two other primi dishes rather than a main. One, the risotto quinoa with black truffle, hazelnuts, rutabaga and a poached egg was divine though my sweet potato agnolotti with chanterelles, almonds and broccoli stems was definitely not something I'd order again. It was imbalanced and a bit flabby with the sweetness and almonds just too much in the mouth and nothing on the back-end. T ordered the venison with apple tahini, ham and cumin yogurt and really enjoyed it.

The wine I ordered is one you must try to find, as will I!!! It was the Beckmen "Cuvée le Bec" from Santa Ynez, CA. A 2010, it's a red blend of syrah, grenache, mourvedre and counoise. AWESOME!

A quiet day of yoga, cooking and pets

Today was, overall, such a nicely quiet one. The kids are off their heads about Nutmeg (so am I, and T has cottoned to him quite quickly) who kept them entertained all morning. Isn't he adorable?!? Percy has been such a sweet dog, wary as if he knows Nutmeg would/will win any battle but curious and gentle.

I got to go to yoga which was wonderful as usual and made a strawberry cake for a little boy who's about to turn 7 as well as a collard green cobbler for his birthday meal with his family. I sure wish I could have kept both!

Presently, Percy is snoring loudly, Nutmeg is sleeping quietly, the hermit crabs are hermiting like always, and T and I find ourselves with a free evening as his parents invited the boys over to go see the National Christmas Tree and then spend the night. Yowzers. We're going to go out to eat and get a good night's sleep (much-needed). Aah! The Sunday paper and a quiet home in the morning? Wha? Fab!

Connecticut

There aren't many words which can even begin to adequately express the utter devastation and end of life-as-they-knew-it sensation that so many in Newtown must be stunned by right now. I was late to the news today; blissfully unaware as I played holiday Bingo as Shabbat mom in Oliver's class and then shocked when I returned home to a message from Jack's school regarding shielding and talking to your kids about the CT tragedy. What? Again? Kindergartners? I left Oliver with a trusted babysitter and hurried to pick Jack up. All the mothers were teary yet strong, willing themselves to remain steel magnolias in front of the children for whom they were waiting and whom they so desperately wanted to clutch tight in a maternal grip. When I saw Jack, unaware of the news and simply happy to see me, start to run into my arms, I just froze, my eyes locked on him and the distance between us. It couldn't be closed quickly enough, and I know the embrace I shared with him was longer than many, as were those shared by countless other parent-child reunions.

As I looked around at all the love and relief and perspective -"I'll take whining any day over....."- the wind was knocked out of me. What if one of those children lost were mine? What if the gifts under the Christmas tree right now, wrapped beautifully and glanced at each day with as much anticipation by the kids as by me, were now for naught? I don't think I could bear to let go of them nor look at them for a minute more.

I hugged my boys repeatedly today, tight, lengthy circles of love and gratitude and pleas of "not me, never me." I thought how little some of the stuff in daily life matters; how those things can seem so critical at times but at others, in a flash, the import each once had vanishes like an apparition.

After school, I told Jack about Oliver's and my visit with Nutmeg, aka cutest kitten, and he said he'd like to go see him too. Taking advantage of the opportunity to spend time alone with my J? Done. We spent a leisurely bonding session with the cat, Jack falling ever more endearing in love, trying ever so hard to please the tiny feline. And after Ol was in bed tonight, Jack, in a darling red thermal long-john mozied down the stairs with a strong suggestion that I read him one more story.

Instead, he served as liaison between pajama-clad, gougeres-making me, and warm-under-the-covers-upstairs T, making the case for bringing Nutmeg home. When T acquiesced not twenty minutes later, I knew we all just felt happy that we could be enjoying each other, grateful to have each other, eager to appreciate lazy times of spontaneous joy. No sooner had I tucked the gougeres in the oven did J and I scoot back out to adopt the cat. Two and a half hours past J's bedtime, I finally tucked him in, my little boy, the most precious and proud cat owner ever.

I will not take this in a political direction tonight except to say if not now, when?, but instead give my every thanks for my family's safety and to send every possible good vibe of making it through the layers of despair the CT families feel and which I know would have me incapacitated for quite some time. All of my thoughts are with them now.