Greg's Week: Zuppa Toscana

Yes. I do believe that it's totally normal to base an entire week's menu off of what my husband likes to eat.

I mean, I eat anything. So, every week is Erika week around our house apt home.

When I went grocery shopping this week after spending 10 days at my parent's home, I didn't even know where to begin. We had negative food in our refrigerator. I'll leave that up to you to determine what exactly that means. But, if you've been there, you understand.

On my way to the store, I shot him a text asking if he needed/wanted anything specific. He asked for the basics (at least what he considers are basics)-shredded cheese, peanut butter, bread, and yup that's pretty much it. He did request a meal at the end of the text.

This is huge.

Greg never makes menu suggestions or really pushes for a certain meal. He's not choosy. So, it was kind of a big deal for him to ask for something.

That got me thinking. Maybe we should just eat some of his favorites this week.

How did we begin this week?

Olive Garden Italian style. Uhm. Duh.

I decided to try my hand at some "ZUUUUUUUPA!" Yes, you have to say it like an Italian.

Say hello to some lovely beef smoked sausage. These soup needs this. It needs the flavor.

Throw down some thick hickory smoked bacon.

I know what you're thinking. Yes, this soup is fool proof. It has bacon.

Bacon. Only made better by caramelizing some onions in its fat.

I am convinced that this is what makes this soup so flavorful without adding tons of seasoning. Those sautéed onions were like nothing I've ever had before. 

This soup cries for some starch. Potatoes are an easy solution. 

Just hanging out before taking a bath in some delicious bacon sautéed onions. 

Add water. Chicken bouillon. Potatoes. Simple 

I let my potatoes simmer for about 20 minutes. Then, I added an entire head of kale.

Please note. Take off the thick stocks of kale. The vein of kale can be pretty tough and tasteless. Let's avoid that.

I doused in some milk, salt, and pepper then served this puppy up with homemade breadsticks. 

 As for Greg? He went back for seconds. Always a good sign for a guy who doesn't eat much.

Day one of Greg's week: complete.

Milled Flax Seed Biscuits with Gravy.

Greg and I frequent Cracker Barrel more than any other restaurant. Granted, we don't really eat out that much. But, when we do, the "Barrel" is our breakfast eatery of choice. There's just something nice about limitless coffee and being surrounded by people who have experienced much more life than you have.

We each have our typical orders. I, however, like to change mine up every once in a while. Maybe a bran muffin. Maybe oatmeal. And, heck, why not some blackberry pancakes?

The hubs likes to play it cool. Every time, it's biscuits and gravy.

So, with this morning kicking off his very first round of grown-up seminary classes, I tried my hand at this classic. But, like everything I bake, I tried to add some actual nutritional value to the meal.

Enter milled flax seed and plain yogurt.

I began by mixing together my biscuit dough. Take heed, this recipe makes a pretty wet dough. I followed the directions. But, if I had to do it again, I would definitely make these drop biscuits. Way easier.

I plopped them into a cast iron skillet (is there any other way?) and off they went to get cozy in the oven.

Meanwhile, I made the gravy.

But, there was no sausage to be found in this little apartment. So, I decided to leave it meatless and sub in some delicious flavaaaas (mornings make me crazy).

All in all, these biscuits and gravy made the hubs happy. The only thing that gave away that they were "healthied-up" was the sweet flavor in the biscuits. Depending on how sweet you like your biscuits, the honey quantity is debatable.

I topped these puppies with some fresh garlic chives (thanks, Mom, for my herb garden...let's see if I can keep it alive). I also just snapped an iPhone picture. Why? Because at this point I hadn't finished a cup of coffee. Walking to the other room to get my actual camera just sounded like too much work...

Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives.

I emptied my suitcase on the floor and started to dig. After I had found my missing belt, I stood up, shook out my wet hair, and threw on some mascara. I grabbed my pre-prepared bags of camera gear and wedding paraphernalia, and the doorbell rang. Tara was standing outside with a big smile. I instantly felt inferior. She looked cute.

We loaded up my little two door car and I printed directions-just in case. It was our wedding adventure-heading to a small rural Indiana town to photograph a family member's wedding.

The church wasn't hard to find, but when we got there, we knew that food was going to be necessary to make it through the rest of the day. After we scouted out photo locations, we put our eyes to good use finding a restaurant.

There.Was.Nothing. In that little town. Nothing. No, I take that back, there was a convenient store. We cautiously walked into the store. It was like we were in some Julia Robert's movie going on a road trip. There were some sketch looking pizzas sitting out, and a whole slew of Little Debbie's.

We decided to put our stomachs (and the fate of the rest of the day) in another location. Across the street, there was a "Fish and Steak" place. We walked into a barren eatery. As we walked across the dining room, I couldn't help but notice that my shoes were sticking to the carpeted floor. I looked up at Tara, and she was staring down at her own feet. We'd both noticed it. We were in our own episode of Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives. The only thing that was missing was Guy's fiery personality.Our food arrived, and we got it to-go. It was quite possibly the most greasy ham and cheese I've ever had. But, we felt small-towny. Road-trippy. And fat. It's funny how only driving 30 minutes from my town of residence can take you into a totally different world. Very different.

Kicking Out Debbie Downer

I did it. I filled out a forever long application (how many ways can I answer how I would respond to a certain work situation?). It was worth it. I'll probably balloon in size (have you seen their calorie counts). But, hey it would be a job. And one I would like.

Can't wait to see what happens. Lord knows I need a steady income.

I keep telling myself three things:

1)"God is good all the time."

2)Suck it up Debbie Downer

3)"You open your hand and satisfy the desires of every living thing."

Rain Drops on Roses + Blogs

I have days where I just feel stuck. Creative juice-less, and uninspired. It's on these dog days that I turn to some of my favorite things (begin Sound of Music reenactment now). No, no raindrops on roses or whiskers on kittens. Although those are pretty darn awesome. But, those are not my favorite things. Of all the things I'm addicted to, the following may be some of the most fun/profitable/entertaining of all.

First on the list is: B.L.O.G.s

Yes, I am a blogger (that's weird to say), and I may be a bit bias, but blogs are the best. Shamelessly looking in on other's lives. It's a win-win sort of deal. So, who's lives do I stalk...er, I mean read occasionally about?

1. Jasmine Star

I cannot get enough of her. Real, fabulous, and seriously a smart photographer.

2. Promise Tangeman

Can I please have your life? I want to be a boho-chic graphic designer and photographer.

3. Joy the Baker

Dry humor and a huge dose of smashingly good food is what I like everyday.

4. Studio 3z

This family melts my heart. They homeschool, live like hippies, love Jesus, and take stunning photographs. All my whims can be met by reading this little jewel of a blog.

Enjoy. And get hooked. Like I already am.

Mafia+Madness

With New Year's Eve quickly approaching I began thinking what on earth I was going to do to ring in 2011. I began asking friends about parties with no avail. So, I did the unthinkable. I decided that I (under the guise of all the Blake children) was going to throw a party, a mafia party.

Three second after I sent out the Facebook invites, I processed what I had just done. There's no going back. I just committed to doing this. Oh sweet sesame seeds, the risks of party planning, throwing, and clean-up (by far, the worst of the three). But, I just don't want this to be a party of regret. Regret that I even chose to host a party.

So, I'm making "To-Do" lists, putting together a menu, and trying to make sense of what exactly a good party looks like. In my immediate circle of friends, we don't really have full out decadent parties (probably because we're all poor), but I am aiming to throw a curve ball. No, I don't want an extravagant over the top hooplah. I just want people to enjoy themselves and be able to spend time with other people who are right there "doing life" together.

I'm not guaranteed a success, but I'm hoping with a little planning and boatloads of prayer, a good time will be had by all.

(Oh, and did I mention it's a mafia themed party. Yay for more details to add to the madness!)

The Wallstreet Journal and Real Vintage Clothes.

Thanksgiving is a time for people to eat a positively sickening amount of food (which I regretfully did) and talk about cliche things they are thankful for: "I am thankful for my amazing family, my friends, and my dog." The above phrase may be very heartfelt, but it lacks true thanksgiving. Coming up with a sentence of things you're thankful/grateful for is an easy task and leaves other worthy things unmentioned.

So, in an attempt to stretch myself (and to not be too hypocritical of those one sentence thanksgivings), I present my very own list of often unmentioned things I am thankful for.

I am thankful for (a cliche start to a very un-cliche list):

• A God who doesn't tell me what I want to know, even though I harass him.
• Flannel sheets (they are heaven sent).
• Technology. Where on earth would I be without it (I definitely wouldn't be writing this)?
• Thrift stores (cute clothes without complete decimation of the budget).
• iTunes/iPods (they feed my music obsession).
• College applications (yeah, who saw this one coming?).
• Coffee (this semester I have consumed a record amount. I don't know if I should be proud of this...).
• My mother and her dedication to saving clothes she had in college (helloooo real vintage).
• My loud, obnoxious, and loving family (did you really think that they wouldn't make the list?).
• For the hard lessons I've been forced to learn.
• Smiling store clerks (they make my day).
• My Tuesdays at Vienna with calculus.
• Dance parties in the family kitchen with the WHOLE family.
• Almost being on my own (sans the boring responsibilities).
• The Starbucks barista I see every Wednesday night and like to pretend I'm friends with.
• The Wallstreet Journal
• Baking
• Running (I actually love it, and it makes the aforementioned possible without ballooning in size).
• How God has blessed my dweeby entrepreneurial endeavors.
• The people I get to spend time with everyday (and we're not sick of each other...miracle).
• The amount of vegan/vegetarian options (I am neither, but I like to pretend that I would actually have the self-control to be).
• Bing Crosby/White Christmas/Christmas music (Thanksgiving is technically over, so bring.it.on).
• Blogs where I can post what I'm thankful for (I had to throw a cliche one in there, ok?).

Happy (un-cliche) Thanksgiving!

Complicatingly Simple.

I walked in through our front door, still smelling freshly fallen rain. As I shut the door behind be, I was confronted with another heavenly odor-barley and vegetable soup. I peaked into the kitchen to see if my family was still eating. They weren't, but a big pot of soup was still hot on the stove. Adjacent to the soup was a pan full of parker house rolls (food of the gods, so buttery, flakey, and well just delicious). Ravenous after a run and soccer practice, not to mention my furious Goodwill shopping, I reached for the nearest bowl.

I had downed every last bit of soup and probably two too many rolls. My mother then asked me to give my little sister a bath. I acquiesced to her request and took my little sister upstairs. Just as I was filling up the tub, she looked up at me with her big brown eyes and asked: "Erka, will you be me best friend, like for forever?" I swear, my heart stopped beating. I think I now know how a melting heart feels.

Julie reminded me that life isn't hard. It seems daunting and wearisome to me at times, but really it isn't any more complicated than saying: "Will you be my best friend, like for forever?" Our living declaration should be that simple question asked to the God of all things. Christianity isn't only for the intellectual (yeah, I wouldn't be a Christian...for sure). Sometimes it is our intellect that keeps us from God. To a child, life is simple and sprinkled with few concerns. God doesn't require complexity. All he wants is all of us for his glory.