Wednesday, July 23, 2014

We move in a week.  I have now packed roughly 12 boxes.  I'm over it.  I picked up a bunch of boxes from a super organized friend who just moved.  She expressed surprise when I said I was really going to get cracking.  Apparently she packed for two months before her move, much to my consternation.

I had an amazing dinner with friends Friday night- a cozy French brasserie, ideal for a rainy night.  Escargot, pork belly, mussels, and foie gras- our appetizers alone were heavenly.  Tbalance it out, I had a salad for dinner, albeit one with fried oysters and lardons. I love to be with people who love food as much as I do.  I think constantly dieting dull one's personality after a while.  Or maybe I just tell myself that, ha!

Dell Harper had her first gymnastics lesson today.  It was adorable, and she did great! I think she has inherited her father's eye-hand coordination (thank the Lord!).  I can't even do a cartwheel.

Okay, back to work.  I'm hiding out at Panera while the kiddos play with their favorite sitter.  I keep telling myself that once I finish up my work projects, then I will get everything packed up. I have a feeling that my first all-nighter since one ill-fated attempt in law school might be happening soon.

And, as usual, in lieu of any content, here's a bunch of cute pictures.

They are awfully cute.  Too bad they can't pack boxes.

Come On In!*

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Tomato Tart Time!

Ask and ye shall receive. Now, many of y'all know that I am a very vocal proponent of mayonnaise. I just love it.  Well, I love Duke's in particular, and Hellman's in a pinch.  Don't give me any of that Kraft nonsense.  If you've got homemade I will take that.  Gladly.

That being said, although I love tomato pie in all its permutations, sometimes I just want to taste tomato.  Especially right now.  I don't want it all mucked up.  Enter Anna's tomato tart.  I can't remember when my Mississippian friend made this for me?  College, perhaps?  Anyway, it's excellent, easy and perfect for entertaining.

Or eating by yourself in massive quantities, like I did for lunch the other day.

Here's the recipe, straight from the Jackson Junior League.  I doubled it for this batch, because Dell Harper got a little handsy at the Farmer's Market with the tomatoes, and I needed to use them immediately.  I used Pillsbury pie crust (shame, shame), and an excellent mozzarella, which I sliced.  I rolled my pie crust out, and baked it on a baking sheet- hence the pizza-like appearance.

It just tastes like summer, and there is no worry regarding tomato-induced sogginess, draining them, etc.    Delish!

Now, if you are eating your tart and begin to feel a little lacking in the mayonnaise department, I recommend you make these grilled chicken thighs with white bbq sauce.  They're damn fine.  These here were baked, since a torrential downpour began right when I requested Morgan to fire up the grill.  Also, the leftover "barbeque sauce" makes an excellent sandwich spread. **

**I don't know what kind of crazy pills you North Alabamaians are taking, because this in no way resembles barbeque sauce.  That being said, I like this a million times better than either vinegar, ketchup or even mustard-based barbecue sauces.  Keep on cooking up craziness.

Then, finally finish up your feast with this super simple peach cobbler (I consider this more of a dump cake, but semantics aside, it's yummy).
I upped the peaches by about a cup.  Also, I would cut the sugar by about a third, and use brown sugar for half of the sugar.  However, it's good just as written.

*This is the title of the Jackson Junior League cookbook, which I find just delightful.  Julia Reed references it here, but in Queen of the Turtle Derby she has an excellent essay on the superiority of Southern cooking based solely on Junior League cookbook titles.

Weekend This and That

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Dell Harper is in camp this week, so I have been planning on starting the packing process. Camp is now halfway over and I have 1) picked up packing paper for wrapping dishes from my parents' house  2) raided their fridge, 3) gone to the consignment boutique, 4) taken a nap, 5) driven sleeping kiddos around in circles, 6) cleaned my house, 7) done laundry, 8) stared at a lease for work and 9) taken boxes from carport to dining room. No packing yet.  I've managed to hit Chick-Fil-A twice in two days (DH's obsession with applesauce and a 5:20 Deeds doctor appointment last night), yet have packed nary a thing.

Moving on-

We went to two fun parties last Friday night.

Prosecco and good sushi always makes for a great evening.  Especially when both of your children sleep through the night.  Hurrah for wonderful baby-sitters, especially ones who tell you whether your outfit looks good.

DH and I hit up Earthfare bright and early Saturday morning to take advantage of a free pound of peaches with $10 purchase offer.  Then we spied a good looking yard sale across the street.  I might be banned from Craigslist, but nothing was said about the dangers of yard sales.

 I found this Pottery Barn Kids chair for $10 and snagged it for a friend with a Miles.  DH found her new best friend- "his name is Rockabye, and he is two and half.  He my friend".

I also scored some Pottery Barn bedding for our new guest room.
After naps, DH and I hit the pool for her to play with some buddies.  

Morgan and I ate a late adult only dinner of grilled pork chops, tomato tart, cucumber salad and peach cobbler.

In other news, I just now learned that my carseat (which I have had for 2.5 years now), has this little visor thing on the shade.
I honestly don't know how my kids would make it if I didn't have all of my friends telling me how to take care of them.  

On that note, have y'all ever done baking soda baths for diaper rash?  My friend Libby gave me a heads up, and it definitely eases the discomfort.

Okay.  I have nothing else to ramble on about.  It's time to bite the bullet and begin to pack.  Or perhaps take care of some work stuff, then wash all the sheets and towels in the house, and empty the dishwasher. . .