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like a postcard of a golden retriever

Jackie and my dad in Brooklyn, February 09

Jackie and my dad in Brooklyn, February 09

My dad comes this weekend! My dad is pretty awesome. He loves baked goods and Alfred Hitchcock and lives in New York City like a fancy guy. His favorite story about me is that one time when I was three I came up to him at a party and kicked him in the shins for no reason. Ask him. He’ll tell you. He also does a great impression of my Nana, who is apparently the originator of our weird familial compulsion to tell each other everything we ate that day.  (Also, completely unrelated but telling: one time I was playing that game with Jackie and I had literally been listing stuff for like ten minutes and finally she was like “Jesus Christ, are you DONE?” and I was like, “Yes. Oh, also a pulled-pork sandwich.”)

Anyway. Tom pointed out that my dad is pretty much the easiest guy in the world to entertain because all he really wants to do on vacation is eat good food and chat and take a nap every day at 3 o’clock. THAT IS A PLAN I CAN GET BEHIND. On the agenda for this weekend: fried mozzarella at Maggianos, a trip to Cider Hill for some apple picking, dinner at my house (I really want to make Rachael’s Florentine Prosciutto-Wrapped Chicken! Is that shameful?), and a trip to see Tom at work for some drinks.

And, clearly, naps.

Back on Monday. Hug your Pops.

PS: Don’t you think the guy who won the Peace Prize today is cool and handsome? I sure do.

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Lit.

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This is the conclusion I have come to: the vast majority of times in life you can get by on the cheapie brand and nobody is going to be the wiser, you included. 

Candle-buying is not one of those times. 

My favorite (and Tom’s, though he’d never admit it): Slatkin & Co’s Vanilla Sandalwood or Creamy Nutmeg. I like their pumpkin scents, too, but that’s where the boyfriend draws the line. Cozy and spicy and strong enough to fill the whole apartment, which I find just doesn’t happen with the three dollar Pier One kind.

What’s your house smelling like these days?

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Fog Inside the Glass

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Ina’s apple crostata

a bitchin’ new cd in the works for my baby sister (“Better Go and Get Your Armor: The October ’09 Mix”)

cozy new cardigan from Madewell

contemplating what warm pumpkin puree with cinnamon would be like on top of vanilla ice cream

clean crunchy air

the Madeline Peyroux Pandora station, with absolutely no alteration at all

chicken with salsa in the crockpot (thanks Kim!)

the monosyllabic cobbler on Harvard Street saving my boots

a plaid flannel blanket from Tom’s mom

Wild Things

trying to figure out what on earth I am going to do with these guys:

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Oatmeal Pumpkin Breadcake

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First of all: how effing bent is my loaf pan? That’s embarrassing. I need a new one.

Second of all: I made oatmeal pumpkin bread on Sunday! It made me popular at work. To be fair, it’s closer to cake then to bread, and cake tends to have that effect on people.

If you, too, would like to be popular in your place of business, you can follow this recipe, adopted from cooks.com: 

1 c. quick cooking oatmeal
1 c. hot low-fat milk
3/4 c. pumpkin (I roasted and pureed the real kind, cause I had it from the CSA, though I imagine the canned stuff would work just fine. I actually love the canned stuff.)
2 eggs, beaten
1/4 c. butter, melted
2 c. all-purpose flour
1/2 c. brown sugar
1/2 c. white sugar
1/4 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cinnamon
1 tbsp. baking powder

For the topping: 2 tbsps. brown sugar, 1/4 cup oatmeal, 1/4 cup chopped pecans

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In large bowl combine oats and low-fat milk; allow to stand 5 minutes. Stir in pumpkin, eggs, and melted butter. In a separate bowl mix together flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon. Gradually add dry ingredients to oatmeal mixture. 

Place in a greased 9 x 5 loaf pan, and top generously with brown sugar, oats, and nuts. Bake 55-60 minutes or until tests done. Cool on wire rack. Makes 1 loaf.

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Lesson (un)plan.

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Oh hello Monday.

This week at life school is for CATCHING UP. We used to have those kinds of weeks with the nuns, too, back in Catholic school. I miss the nuns.

We are finishing Michael Chabon and starting Oscar Wao. Breaking down writing walls once and for all. Baking at sunrise. Practicing my Emily Post manners at a fancy all-girl dinner party. Swimming with the fishes. My very first book club meeting. Picking my boots up at the cobbler. Breaking out the crockpot. Sending posted love to penpals near and far.

Have coffee, will travel. Am love love loving this cool crisp fall.

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Friday Random

1. It’s October so of course I’m sick. I will likely stay that way, in one form or another, from now until my birthday next May. My immune system is such a pathetic little weenie. Sniff.

2. Amazing tightwad discovery of the week: baby wipes are very effective makeup-removing cloths! And they only cost like three bucks instead of one million.

3. In the kitchen this week: quiche with peppers, bacon, onions, and cheese; Greek pitas with garlic and dill yogurt and roasted potatoes; strawberry and banana smoothies; pasta bolognese with eggplant and garlic  bread; hot chocolate with real cocoa and a hit of Splenda on the couch with the boyfriend in front of Lost. Man I love fall.

4. I had a drink with Stef last night. I know Stef from college; she made up her own major and spent four months hanging out in Africa and  never fails to make me feel like we could grab the whole sky.  She’s got some big things coming up, and if I’m lucky I might get to play.

5. TWO DIFFERENT PEOPLE clipped the Susan Orlean article about raising chickens in the city out of the New Yorker and mailed it to me. I can’t figure out if I am lucky that the people in my life know me so well, or if I am just really, really  lame.

6. This weekend: Tom’s family is here, and so is my cousin D, and I am hanging with Will TWO TIMES because I am lucky like that, and we are having brunch with H&J, and also I maybe want to go apple picking and buy a whole new wardrobe with the money I will save by not buying makeup-removing cloths. SO. That is all to say, I anticipate busy-ness. Catch  you on the flip side.

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Squashed.

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Because apparently I am on crack I signed us up for a winter CSA, which means that from now until December we’ll have like ten pounds of pumpkins and squash and onions to eat our way through every week. I don’t really know why I thought this was such an awesome idea, since my boyfriend has never once in our entire relationship (or his entire life) said, “You know what would be awesome? If we could have some gourds for dinner.” No  matter. I’m determined to convert him, and lucky for me every magazine I’ve picked up lately has been chock-full of squashy goodness. A lot of the recipes tend to call for stuff I don’t have lying around, though, so I’ve had to get a little creative.

 

I made this pasta dish the other night–butternut squash roasted with olive oil, salt and pepper, then mixed with spicy Italian sausage, a little onion, some whole-wheat shells, and mozzarella cheese. I put the whole thing in a baking dish and sprinkled it with a mix of bread crumbs and parmesan, then stuck it under the broiler until it got all brown and crunchy. Tom had seconds. I’m just saying.

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