Archives for 2011

Saying Goodbye to a Best Friend

August 1, 2011 · Narrative

One of the hardest things I have ever had to do was to tell Nick he had to say goodbye to Eli last night. It just might be THE hardest thing I have ever done. We got Eli when Nick was about six months old. They literally grew up together. Luckily Nick was with The Ex for part of the weekend, so was spared having to watch Eli go downhill quickly. When we came home last night, I wanted to prepare him. We talked. He cried. I consoled.

This morning, as the kids got ready for camp, Nick walked into the kitchen to say his goodbyes. I watched him as he knelt down on the floor next to Eli, rubbing his face in Eli’s fur. Talking to him. Stroking his paw. Rubbing his ear. Ok, so apparently I’m not completely cried out. The errant tear on the keyboard is probably a giveaway. I have had a million and one moments of pride in Nick, but never more so than this morning. He was so very brave. Incredibly stoic. He didn’t shed a tear while he said his goodbyes. I could not have been more proud of them than in those moments.

I walked him down to my friend Denise’s car, who was taking him off to camp. She knew what was going on. In fact, she was dropping the kids off at camp and coming back to help me. On the way to camp, Nick and her son Sean talked about Eli. From what I hear, there was a lot of that going on at camp during the day. He shared stories with the counselors and shed tears amongst his best friends. Two of his friends, Sean and Payton, have known Eli for years and years, and I know they were feeling the pain too. I’m glad that they could be there for Nick.

I will spare you all the play-by-plays of the day, but I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Denise. I likely owe her my next born. If not more. Not only did she help me get can’t-walk-at-all-and-weighs-over-100-pounds Eli down to my truck, she stayed with me until the very last moment at the vet. An appointment I have never gone for before. The Ex was always that one that went to the vet for “those” appointments. But this time was different. I felt I owed it to Nick. To Eli. To do right by both of them.

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Weekend Photos in Review

July 31, 2011 · Narrative

If you follow me on Twitter, you might have caught wind that my birthday was coming. I started celebrating last week. You know, birthday week. But then Mystic had to get all practical. “You know, since your birthday is actually on Sunday, and since Sunday is the start of the week TRADITIONALLY, your birthday week actually starts on the 31st.” Men! While he may be right, Nick’s birthday is this coming Tuesday, and I don’t want to intrude. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

I have accidentally on purpose found a ton of different food ways to celebrate over the weekend, starting with a kick-off lunch with Patsy on Friday, dinner/movie with a girlfriend Friday night, lunch and dessert with Beth yesterday, dinner and a movie with Mystic last night, breakfast and lunch with Mystic today, and dinner at my parents’ house tonight. Phew! I haven’t cooked since, um, last Wednesday and that is a pretty excellent way to celebrate, if you ask me. That and with friends and family, of course! In all the birthday festivities, I think it netted me another four spots to review as well – holla!

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Review: Yogurtland

July 29, 2011 · Narrative

After we discovered Red Mango a few weeks ago, I heard about Yogurtland, which is a little bit closer to us. We have since checked it out several times since. The kids have gone. Beth has gone. We introduced Mystic’s daughter to it. What can I say? A guilt-free snack to combat this insane, sauna-like weather we’ve been experiencing lately does not require a heck of a lot of arm twisting.

The concept is nearly identical to Red Mango. Serve yourself one of the frozen yogurt choices (Yogurtland has 16 flavors), top it with your favorite toppings and pay by weight. Super simple.

But there is a slightly divergence between the two brands.

While Yogurtland is 10 cents an ounce cheaper (.39 cents an ounce as compared to Red Mango’s .49 an ounce price), Red Mango offers a free loyalty program. Sign up, they’ll track your purchases and reward you after you reach a certain amount spent. I’m a big fan of retailers that reward my hard-earned dollars.

Both chains allow samples of their frozen yogurt and there is an employee standing by with little teeny size cups so you can taste before you buy. Personally, I’m not a fan of the concept but that is possibly me just being grumpy. People come in and seriously sample every single flavor. At Red Mango, this isn’t as much of a problem as it is at Yogurtland. At Yogurtland, there are these weird glass partitions, so if you know what flavor you want, you can’t go around the people sampling every flavor. You must wait impatiently behind them as they hem and haw. It drives me a little crazy. Patience is a virtue and all… Nick thinks the glass partitions look like shower doors. I don’t think he’s too far off.

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Review: Mount Vernon Restaurant, Somerville, MA

July 28, 2011 · Narrative

When Joanne, Patsy and I arrived at our destination on Saturday night, we were on the outskirts of Boston. Like about 5 minutes away. It was after 8 pm and we had just checked in to our hotel. And hadn’t had dinner. After stashing our bags in the room, we headed downstairs to the front desk to ask for recommendations. Because, you know, they’re from the area and should be an excellent resource. Ike at the front desk said “there’s a good seafood restaurant about 5-10 minutes away on foot.”

Seafood? Boston? It was a no brainer.

Our first mistake was asking Ike. Our second was thinking we were on our way to an awesome seafood dinner. We were soon to find out our adventures that evening had just begun.

First, the directions were as hazy as the weather, and after 15 minutes in one direction, in a hundred degree heat, we realized there was no restaurant to be had.

We walked the other way, passing Mystic’s namesake along the way.

Up a residential street. A hill. “We’re walking off our delicious seafood dinner!” we thought.

Passing a pizzeria that smelled of oregano. I half-jokingly suggested grabbing a slice and a Diet Coke and heading back to the room. But how could we pass up seafood?

We passed a group of rowdy bachelors and politely demurred when they waved us over for beer and food.

We finally reached the top of the hill, rounded the corner and saw sparkly lights in the tree. Ah, this must be the place. That walk up hill in the steam bath called Summer in New England was starting to pay off.

It wasn’t especially clear which door was the entrance, but we found it. As soon as we threw it open, the smell of fresh seafood hung in the air. This was looking better and better.

We slid into a booth and were handed menus nearly immediately.

Side bar: If you walk into a restaurant on a Saturday night and there are only a few tables occupied, that would be an important clue.

We all perused the menu, each description sounding better than the last. We all chose seafood. I mean, c’mon, seafood restaurant in Massachusetts, how could we not?

The waitress asked if we wanted popovers or Italian bread with our meal. Joanne and I exchanged looks. Popovers don’t really fit with the seafood theme, but sounded intriguing enough that we took a leap of faith.

Behold the popovers.

Quite overdone, we dove in, broke them open and each took a bite anyway. No flavor. No salt. Just a whole lot of nothingness. We pushed them aside and asked for the Italian bread.

The salad arrived. Standard issue. Iceberg lettuce, sliced cucumber, not-quite-ripe-enough tomatoes. But ok.

Then it started to go rapidly downhill from there.

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Wordless Wednesday

July 27, 2011 · Wordless Wednesday

The elevator doors opened up and a woman looked at me and Madeline questioningly.

“Are you going down?”

We’re actually just riding the elevator to get a good picture, so we can go up or down.

She looked where I was pointing and laughed.

“Aw, that’s cute!”

Hey, we have to take the opportunities when we have them.

PS – This picture was, of course, taken the day before I lopped nine inches of my hair off. Sniff, sniff…

Evolution of a Food Blog … and Sweetnicks

July 26, 2011 · Narrative

When I first started this site over six (!!) years ago, my focus was food, with a little bit of life thrown in. A place to document some of my favorite recipes, and some of my favorite memories. I shudder to look back on some of those earlier posts, and especially the photos. The phrase “We’ve come a long way, baby” has never been more appropriate. Right around the three year mark, I feel like I really found my footing. Or honed it in more. Still concentrating largely around food and family.

But then, over the last few years, particularly after my separation from The Ex, I felt a shift. And started to expand the topic wheel a bit more to include crafts, things to do with your kids (and without), some fashion, divorce, a bit of this and a bit of that. And I felt like my voice has gotten even more targeted, even though it’s a wider spectrum of topics. Does that make sense? I felt the words were more and more from my heart and soul, filled with emotion, as opposed to just words coming after the blinking cursor. It’s more me than ever.

Since the site was so focused on food in the beginning, broadening its scope is something I’ve struggled with over the past six months or so, from a readership viewpoint. Am I alienating people who come solely for the food? Certainly not my intention, but this is so much of who I am. I’m not just about food, although the presence of food in our lives is like a ribbon that ties it all together. I am so much more. We are so much more.

I am food.

And family.

And the kids. Oh those kids.

And home.

And parties.

And field trips.

And photography.

And new nail polish obsessions.

And a statistic of divorce.

And dating.

And laughter.

And love.

And tons more.

Just like you.

And it seems only natural that this site is an extension of that.

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Food Writers’ Road Trip: Weekend Photos in Review

July 25, 2011 · Narrative

So what happens when three food writers set off on a Boston road trip? We come back with a ton of stories and a scant amount of pictures. A normal weekend usually nets me a minimum of 200 pictures. This weekend? I barely scraped a hundred. And forty or so of those were from the ride home. The laughs and the characters we met along the way, however, more than made up for it. And when I say characters, I mean characters.

That’s Joanne from Eats Well with Others and Patsy from Family, Friends and Food, by the way. If you’re not a reader of their web sites already, do check them out.

On the way to pick up Joanne in NYC, we may or may not have made a wrong turn. Twice. I blame the music. And Patsy. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Our next picture didn’t happen until we reached the Mass Pike. A pathetic excuse for a freelance photographer I am. This time, Joanne was in the car too, so I’m blaming both of them. Too much talking! We sadly missed every “Welcome to…” state sign on the whole ride down. Three states. Three signs. I’d like to say we made up for it on the ride home. We kinda didn’t.

My Dad works in engineering, so when I saw these pastel-colored storage tanks as we neared our destination, I had to take a picture for him. Well, actually I stopped on the highway so Patsy could take it. You know, Safe Driving 101 and all.

After two days with me, the girls might be now used to my “wait, we have to stop everything and take pictures of the sky” problem fascination.

Just no getting away from Mystic.

What do three food writers eat for dinner when they head to Boston for a food conference? Lobster? No. Chow-dah? Nope. Steamers? Negatory. Homemade granola bars and strawberries brought from home. At 10:30 pm. I wish I was kidding, but the best food we had all weekend was likely the roasted vegetable wraps from the rest stop on our drive home. Sad. Very sad. But great fodder for blog posts, coming to a web site near you.

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Recipe: S’mores Cookie Bars

July 22, 2011 · Narrative

I think I totally jinx myself when I say that there will be a Friday post. Mostly because then there isn’t. And tonight wasn’t looking so good for follow-through, but I’m making it just under the wire.

Earlier this week, on a night that we foraged in the refrigerator and fashioned dinner from leftovers, Nick and I made dessert. What better way to use the extra time? And having someone else deal with the stickiness of a recipe that calls for a jar of marshmallow fluff totally didn’t color my willingness to let him help. At all. Swear.

Graham crackers. Butter. Chocolate. Marshmallow fluff. I’m not sure you can go wrong. Except if it adds up to much sweetness, and I’ve got to be honest, I thought it did the first night. I had half of a piece and wasn’t interested beyond that. The kids ate all theirs. And the next night. And the next night. I went back and had another piece, and while I still think it’s really sweet, I warmed up to it much more, which is how it ended up here. Apparently it took me four days to like it.

Excuse the picture. Eleven pm at night. On the stove. With the stove overhead light. Doesn’t really spell the natural lighting you need for pictures. But it was either that or no photo or no post. So I went the sub-par photo route and hope to distract you with more fun, much more excellent photos below.

This weekend? Boston bound, baby! No post Sunday, but I’ll be back here Monday night. Promise.

xoxo

July 22, 2011 – Bonus Photos

When Mystic sees a good sunset, he’ll sometimes text me the picture. This one I spotted tonight with my very own peepers. I could seriously spend hours looking at the sky, sunset or not. Except, you know, it doesn’t really pay the bills. So a quick glance here and there works wonders.

We totally should have added “sprinkler fun” to the Summer Bucket List. Because we totally took care of that tonight.

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On Boys, Bravery and the No Buss Zone

July 21, 2011 · Narrative

It all started innocently enough. We pulled into the parking lot on Saturday afternoon to get Madeline’s hair cut. We’re almost through that hideous growing-bangs-out phase, but it was looking a little scraggly and rather than go for the ragamuffin look, it needed some cleaning up. As I was parking the car, Nick said “I want a mohawk!”

You do?

“Yes, I think so. Well, I don’t know.”

I think it would be fun for the summer, but it’s up to you.

By the look on his face, it was clear he was torn. He really wanted it but was afraid to make that leap.

Oh that face just makes me love her that much more.

As Madeline’s hair cut was underway, I told him if he got it done and I had enough hair to donate to Locks of Love, I would get mine lopped off too.

The hairstylist started paying closer attention.

“How much do I need to donate?”

Nine inches.

I didn’t think I had enough. I thought I was close, and although I have gone back and forth on the do-I-or-don’t-I decision for years, if I was going to go for it, I wanted to make sure that much of a cut could make some difference to someone else. I mean, to be that close and be a half-inch shy didn’t seem to make much sense to me.

The ruler came out. There was enough to cut and donate without leaving me, well, looking like Nick.

I looked at him. What do you think?

He nodded.

The stylist looked at me. “Are you sure, Mom?”

I nodded. Yes. Quick, before I change my mind.

I didn’t want to force Nick into getting the mohawk. That was purely his decision, and I knew he really wanted it. I wanted to, instead, show him that we need to just leap sometimes. And the best way to do that is by example, of course.

And so we leapt together.

Nick’s Before:

Nick’s After:

He could not be happier with it. He spends time every morning, spraying, gelling, getting it just so. It totally suits him.

Madeline’s After:

Last night, I hired a babysitter for Madeline so Nick and I could go out together. I think one-on-one time with each of the kids is huge. For them. For me. And even though it takes a bit of effort to make it happen, we’re all better for it.

I’m looking forward to our date tonight, I told Nick late yesterday afternoon.

“With who?” he asked.

With you, silly.

“Mom! It’s not a date! It’s just you and me.”

Oh it totally is. I can have a date with my kid. You’re somebody special to me and I love you.

“Whatever. But no…”

No, no kissing. Well maybe on the cheek.

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Recipe: Cinnamon Sugar French Toast

July 20, 2011 · Narrative

I’m a big fan of breakfast for dinner. Mostly because it’s a break from the ordinary and something we can all agree on. That means it’s easy, and I don’t know about you, but when the temps soar well past the 90 degree mark, I am all about the easy. Hello Breakfast for Dinner, welcome to our life.

Growing up, my mom made great breakfasts. And not for dinner. French Toast, pancakes, scrambled eggs… and bacon. Extra crispy if my Dad wasn’t paying attention, which is good ’cause that’s the way everyone else happens to like it. You know, so crispy that it crumbled when you took a bite. I totally miss her breakfasts. And actually, just someone else making breakfast. I swear, that first meal of the day just gets harder and harder, and knowing how important it is, well that just puts all the more pressure on us, doesn’t it? I mean, healthy, quick, kid-approved, family-friendly AND before getting out the door for work, school, camp and what have you? It’s quite the tall order for us, and at such an early hour of the day.

My cheat? When I have extra time, I make a big batch breakfast of something that I know the kids like … Banana Pancakes, sweet breads, regular pancakes, muffins and even French Toast … then I freeze the extra and that way, I can just heat and eat and skip the guilt. Can I get an amen?

Last month, the folks at General Mills invited several bloggers to create something using one of their new products, Land O Lakes Cinnamon Sugar Butter. As soon as I heard “cinnamon sugar,” my mind went instantly to French Toast. Wait, that’s actually a lie. The FIRST thing I thought of was the cinnamon sugar toast that my Mom used to make us sometimes, but, well, I’m not sure that’s what they had in mind when they asked for a new recipe. Almost certain it wasn’t. So the SECOND thing I thought of was to use the new product on a batch of French Toast.

And we ate it for dinner. With about a half pound of crispy bacon. I didn’t say this was a clean eating night. All things in moderation, folks.

Mystic happened to come by after work, and he and Nick camped out in the living room, watching an episode of iCarly and chowing down on this breakfast treat. Nick has probably seen every episode of iCarly about ten thousand times. Which means we pretty much have too. And since iCarly is also a favorite with Mystic’s daughter, you know he’s the patient sort when he sat down to watch that episode. That, and food is an excellent distraction, methinks.

Nick topped his with maple syrup, as did Mystic. I snuck a piece in the kitchen while finishing off cooking the last few pieces, and I went the whipped cream and strawberry route. Madeline went the “I’m not eating anything for dinner and you can’t make me” route, even though she admitted it looked good. If there was someone else dropping in, I would have convinced them to try it with a bit of jam smeared on it. Or maybe with a little dusting on confectioner’s sugar and rolled up. The possibilities are endless.

July 20, 2011 – Bonus Photos

She found out that I have a date tonight. With my favorite almost nine-year-old. And went and got a dress on, a purse and my shoes. Wearing a dress on a non-holiday or occasion is huge for her. Hopefully they are not too many tears when we leave.

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La Piazza: The Best Pizza in New Jersey?

July 19, 2011 · Narrative

“Have you ever had Grandma Pie before?” Mystic asked me a few weeks ago.

Um, no. What is it?

He didn’t tell me.

“Ok, that’s what we’ll do on Friday night then.”

I didn’t even Google it, figuring the element of surprise was way more fun, and being a somewhat adventurous eater, I figured it wasn’t code for fried bugs or cow tongue, so I was safe.

I love when he’s all decisive like that, even if it’s something small like making a decision about dinner. I hate the whole “what do you want to eat?” “I don’t know. What do you want to eat?” “I don’t know. Whatever you want is fine.” Once in awhile when you just can’t hone in on what you’re needing is fine. On a regular basis, it is not. Although I might be a bit of a *cough*control freak*cough, I am also an all-or-nothing kind of girl. Take 100% of the control and run with it so I don’t have to give it a second thought. Or let me do it all. None of this in between stuff.

Even when it comes to a decision about what’s for dinner.

Grandma Pie it was.

When I found out what it is, I felt like more of a lousy Italian than I usually feel like. I mean, how had I never even heard of it before?

Baked in a square Sicilian-pizza style pan, it features a scant amount of mozzarella, topped with dollops of crushed tomatoes (you can track down a few more specifics here). We ended up at La Piazza in Florham Park for my maiden voyage. A small restaurant, it features a few bar stools on a side counter, which oddly just face the wall, and about a dozen or so tables. The tables are a bit of a tight squeeze, as in you’re sitting very close to your neighbors, so it’s not the place to go if you want a private conversation or to break up with your girlfriend or discuss your upcoming bankruptcy proceedings. Just sayin’.

“We’d like to start with the stuffed mushrooms, please.”

You do know they take a really long time to make, right?

“That’s ok, we’d still like them.”

Certainly an interesting way to sell an appetizer, eh?

Of course had she said “oh by the way, they’re mushrooms stuffed with, um, mushrooms and in a really weird sauce,” we might have been appropriately disuaded. But alas, she didn’t, so we weren’t. Note to you: skip the stuffed mushrooms.

Now for the pizza. Strong, slightly crispy crust and less doughy than a more traditional Sicilian slice. I wish the basil was sliced slightly bigger so you could taste it more (nothing like fresh basil!). The crushed tomatoes were very crushed tomatoes. As in, nothing else. No other taste of herbs, seasonings or salt coming through. Not terrible as an overall slice, but not especially memorable either.

Plenty of parking available.
Service is reasonable, although a bit slow on a Friday night
Credit cards accepted and web site available

La Piazza Cafe Ristorante & Pizzeria
184 Columbia Turnpike
Florham Park, NJ 07932
Phone: 973-301-9660
Open Daily: 10am – 10pm

Was it New Jersey’s best? No. The search continues.

Miss our other pizza reviews?

Luigi’s in Succasunna
Reservoir Tavern in Boonton
Margherita’s Pizza & Cafe in Hoboken
Star Tavern in Orange
Grimaldi’s in Hoboken
Annabella’s Pizzeria in Parsippany
Fenicci’s Restaurant & Tavern in Hershey, PA
M&S II Pizza in Rockaway, NJ
Patsy’s Tavern in Paterson, NJ

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Summer 2011: Sidewalk Chalk Art

July 18, 2011 · Narrative

One of our Summer Bucket List 2011 items was coloring outside with sidewalk chalk. Consider that crossed off the list. I love that a dollar tub of chalk can give my littles so much enjoyment. So much so that I went back and got a few more tubs before they disappear from the Target Dollar Spot. And because the kids tend to forget and sometimes leave them outside in the rain. So I’m hiding the new tubs. Go grab some of your own before they’re gone. It’s a great opportunity to discover your little budding Picassos and Rembrandts.

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