little black journal

Clearly, I love summer. I love basking in the sun, wearing tank tops and flip-flops, watching our garden grow. I really love ice cream, bratwursts hot of the grill,  and generous pours of white wine…  Fresh berries, crisp salads, and tall glasses of ice water are on the list, too, but my ice cream to lettuce ratio has been on the high side lately, leaving me feeling slow, tired, and a little…soft.  Most days, I tend to eat whatever I want, figuring that any not-so-healthy cravings are generally balanced by my healthy cravings and my regimen of regular exercise.  But somewhere along the way (probably right around my second ice cream bar and third glass of wine as I sat on the patio last weekend), I got off-balance, and have been feeling the need for a healthy reset.  I’m not one to diet, since self-denial is not one of my strong suits, but I am on board with new ways to increase my vita-intake, so I decided on Monday night to bust out the juicer I borrowed from La Verne last week and give it a whirl.  I got home from my run and tossed a few stalks of kale, a lemon, an apple, and a handful of grapes into the juicer, and wow!  Holy Green Juice, Batman!

I’m sure the boost I felt was psycholgical as much as it was biological, but I felt great.  So great, in fact, that I decided to embark on a little produce-intensive ‘detox’ for the rest of the week.  I’ve been replacing my morning breakfast (usually an Americano and a granola bar or muffin) with a tall glass of fresh-made green juice, and have replaced my lunch (usually a sandwich and chips from home, or calorie-rich Thai or Mexican take-out) with a heaping plate of fresh fruits and veggies.  I thought about trying a raw dinner as well, but I’ve really wanted a hearty, hot meal at the end of the past couple of days, so I’ve been making veggie stir-frys with brown rice after work, followed by a handful of berries for something sweet.  This is only a three-day trial, as a life without coffee or dessert sounds incredibly tragic, but I’ll carry a few of this week’s habits with me as I move forward.  I’ve got my eye on a juicer of our very own, and hope to make use of it at least four or five times a week.  I’ll (try) to limit my evening rummagings in our well-stocked chocolate bowl.  And I might let my friend Donna convince me to embark on a hard-core juice fast someday.  But I’ll also eat ice cream on hot days, order a latte when I want an afternoon boost, and visit our favorite pizza place when the mood strikes me, ’cause giving up that stuff?  That’s just crazy talk.

It’s been kind of a garbage dump of a week, so I’ve had my sights set on this three-day weekend for the past few days.  Since Monday, I’ve been making my Saturday plans:  sleep in, roll out of bed only for a latte and a scone, and then roll back into bed for an afternoon with Harry Potter and Season 6 of Lost.  I believed it was just what I needed.  But then my more adventurous, more fun-loving better half turned to me on Thursday night and said, “What if we woke up on Saturday morning in a different country, instead?”  We quickly Price-lined a hotel in Vancouver, packed our bags, and as soon as the whistle blew on Friday afternoon, we were Canada-bound.

It wasn’t until I started looking online for things to do near our hotel that I realized July 1st was in fact Canada Day, so we would be in the thick of the country’s annual ‘birthday’ celebration.  As soon as we got into the city, traffic slowed to a crawl, as the streets were swarming with people clad in red and white, waving their maple leaf-adorned flags as they danced to the music of any number of bands that had set up shop on the street corners.  We snaked our way to our hotel, gladly ditched our car at the parking garage, and set out in search of 1) good food, and 2) general merriment and festive-ness.  Jack and La Verne had recommended Zakkushi for dinner, a cozy little Yakitori joint just a few blocks from where we were staying.  We snagged a couple of seats at the bar and promptly began ordering to our heart’s delight – items on the menu were about two dollars apiece, and we wanted to try to try just about everything.  For the next hour, the waitress brought us plate after plate of pork-wrapped asparagus, grilled quail eggs, and miscellaneous chicken parts, paired with cold, refreshing pints of Sapporo.

Happy and well-nourished, we waddled out of the restaurant and followed the throngs of people to the waterfront in hopes of catching the big fireworks show.  We staked out a little spot at the harbor’s edge and watched bang after bang of red and white lights.  I marveled at how unknowingly perfect our timing had been in our last-minute decision to make the trip up to Vancouver – you don’t see this every night!

Post-fireworks, we headed toward Gastown to check out the Pourhouse – an allegedly ‘legit’ bar where bartenders respect and know their cocktails.  Shane was determined to verify such rumors, so we plopped ourselves on a couple of barstools and promptly ordered our fist round of drinks.  Shane was impressed with his Fernet-laced Toronto, and my Golden Fizz (gin, lemon, egg, soda water) was perfectly creamy-but-light. Verdict: this bar was indeed legit.

By the time we left Gastown, it was nearly 1 am, which is pretty late for an old married couple such as ourselves, so we cabbed it back to the hotel and fell into bed with a couple of food and drink-induced smiles on our faces.  It had been a very good night.

I was delighted to see sun shining through the curtains early the next morning – I peeked outside and took in the view of the harbor and mountains, pleased that it would be a perfect day for touring the city.

Shane threw on his running clothes and headed out for a jog around Stanley Park.  I thought about joining him for all of six seconds, and then decided instead to head back to bed for awhile – I just wasn’t quite ready to give up on my plans of a Saturday sleep-in.  Hunger eventually pulled me back out of bed, and we left the hotel mid-morning in search of breakfast.  I followed a recommendation for a good crepe place just down the street, so we grabbed a quick bite and then decided that the sunshine was calling us back toward Stanley Park.  We found a place that offered cheap bike rentals, hopped on our super-rad orange cruisers, and we were off!  It was an incredibly leisurely ride, as we stopped every few minutes to take in the scenery and snap a few photos.  Shane said it was the longest bike ride he’d been on without breaking a sweat – that’s what I’m talkin’ about…

We returned our bikes mid-afternoon and knew that we needed to take advantage of Vancouver’s culinary offerings at least one more time before hitting the road.  We settled on ramen at Motomachi Shokudo, another trusted recommendation from Jack and La V.  And wowsers – these Vancouver-ites don’t mess around when it comes to their noodle soup!  Rich, flavorful broth filled with soft-but-not-too-soft noodles and tender slices of pork.  I dont think I’ll ever be able to go back to those 25-cent packages of Top Ramen that I loved so much in college…

We ended our trip in Yaletown, for gelato and a stroll along the waterfront, then down the charming brick-lined streets.  I love this neighborhood – we’re looking forward to spending more time here next time we’re back.

And with that, it was time to hit the long dusty trail back to Seattle.  Thanks, Canada – our spirits were higher when we left than we arrived, so I’d say our little getaway was a smashing success.

Shane sent me an email while I was at work yesterday that said something to the effect of, “Hey, it’s supposed to be really sunny this weekend.” I quickly replied with, “Really? Time for an adventure?” Within minutes, my all-star trip planner of a husband had mapped out a perfect little Saturday jaunt. We were up early-ish this morning, and after a quick breakfast with Jack and La V at Randy’s Diner in Tukwila (imagine Denny’s, but with an even older crowd, and even bigger pancakes!), Shane and I were off to Bellingham to do a little exploring. Our first stop was Larabee State Park, for some sunshine-absorbing and sight-seeing. We shivered when we stepped out of the car and into the crisp February breezes, but decided we would still brave the cold and take the short trail down to the water. Ten minutes later, we were standing on a tiny stretch of beach with the sun glinting off the waters of the Bellingham Bay, and I knew: this was going to be a very, very good day.  We tucked ourselves into a nice little spot on a rock out of the wind and spent awhile just listening to the sound of the water, breathing in the salty air, shedding the week’s stresses and to-do’s.  It was…perfection.

Post-walk, we headed into Bellingham to check out the town.  The rest of the afternoon and evening was spent eating, shopping, drinking, drinking, eating, and shopping.  Lunch at Taco Lobo, perusing the modern wares at Digs, coffee at Woods, cocktails at Temple Bar, dinner at Tivoli, and, for good measure, a quick stop at the Tulalip outlets on the way home.  Did I mention this day was perfect?  We had a chance to really get caught up with one another after a busy week, I delved deeper into Harry Potter book 4 while sipping an exceptionally creamy latte, we found the finishing touches for our dining room make-over, I discovered a new cocktail Shane can’t wait to mix up for me at home (a variation of the Sidecar:  Cognac, Cointreau, and lemon juice, served in a glass rimmed with cinnamon and sugar), and we both ate and ate till we could eat no more.  Thanks, Bellingham, for being so good to us when we really had no idea what to expect.

There is something so satisfying about a day that is simultaneously busy and relaxing – I’m heading to bed tonight tired, but refreshed.  Amazing what a mini-adventure can do for the soul…

I have always dreamed of being one of those people that has time every morning to brew a pot of coffee and enjoy a half-grapefruit and slice of cinnamon toast while reading the paper in my plush terry bathrobe.  Instead, I am the person that flies out the door on my way to work with my tube of mascara in my pocket (to be applied while on the train) and a tangle of earrings and necklaces in hand (I have a talent for accessorizing on-the-go).  On the days when I really have things together, I remember to grab a yogurt out of the fridge and shove it in my bag before I head out.  And so I when I emerge from the lightrail tunnel and see that green and white Starbucks sign, I feel beckoned by the promise of sweet blueberry muffins or banana bread.  For both budgetary and caloric reasons, I usually resist the urge to carbo-load on these not-so-good goodies, but still, the urge is there.  So I came home yesterday and decided to one-up Starbucks with my own home-made muffins.  My own moist, flavorful, low-fat, banana-pumpkin-raisin-pecan muffins, complete with some stuff that’s actually good for you, like flax seed and wheat germ. And oh-my-gosh - these are good.  Now Shane and I have something tasty to bring to work with us for the next few mornings - I hardly even noticed the Starbucks sign on my way into the office today, knowing these little gems were tucked inside my purse.

Recipe from here, with my variations below:

Ingredients:
2 ripe bananas
2 eggs
1/3 cup canola oil
1 can pumpkin
1/3 cup honey
1/2 cup sugar
1 cup white flour
1 cup wheat flour
1/4 cup ground flax
1/4 cup wheat germ
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp ground cloves
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp allspice
1 1/2 tsp cinnamon
3/4 cup raisins
1/2 cup chopped pecans

Directions:
Preheat oven to 350°F.  Mix bananas, pumpkin, and eggs in a food processor.  Mix those wet ingredients with honey and oil.  Mix all dry ingredients.  Stir dry ingredients slowly into the wet.  Fold in raisins and pecans.  Insert paper liners into muffin pan. Fill each muffin tin 2/3 full.  Bake for 20 to 24 minutes (your house will smell like heaven on earth), or until a toothpick or knife comes out clean. Enjoy with a cup of coffee and the morning paper (set your alarm 20 minutes earlier if necessary).

After our low-key but just-right 2010 Valentines Day, spent eating cereal for dinner while watching Project Runway episodes, Shane decided to put aside our home-body-ish, old couple-ish tendencies and make reservations for us at a cozy little Seattle bistrot.  Cafe Campagne is our little slice of Paris in the Pacific Northwest, and though it lacks French-speaking waiters and a view of the Seine, it still ranks pretty high on the romance-o-meter.  We were seated at a little candle-lit table at the back of the restaurant, handed a wine list and a menu, and the rest is a euphoric blur of rich foods, bubbly champagne, and great conversation.  There was escargot, there was Chevre-topped salad, coq au vin, creme brulee, espresso, oh. mon. Dieu.  And there was talking, about travel and friends and the prospects for the 2011 Giants.  It was perfection.  So, Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Schnell.  Je t’aime de tout mon couer.

One of my goals for 2011 was to stop considering cereal as typical and acceptable dinner fare.  Sure, in a pinch, a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats is better than say…a wedge of cheese with a side of potato chips (not that I’ve done that), but still, I’m a believer that dinner should be hearty, flavorful, and nutritious.  Shane and I have made great strides in our meal preparation this month, since it is indeed frugal month for us, and we cannot trade in our Cheerios for a yellow curry from our local Thai place, or burritos from our favorite taco stand.  The crock pot we bought the day after Christmas has proved invaluable in helping us prepare simple, delicious, multiple-serving meals.  Today I threw a whole mess of stuff into the crock pot, flipped it on, took care of a bunch of Sunday to-do’s, and come dinner-time, voila!  Vegetable beef stew.  Fabulous.

A couple of crock-pot tips and tricks, based on our limited experience:

-  If you are crock-potting on a weekday and plan on your dinner cooking while you are at work, make sure the crock pot is actually on when you leave the house.  Otherwise, you are due to come home to a pot of raw, devastatingly wasted pork loin.  Lesson learned the hard way.

-  I pulled ingredients from a few different stew recipes today, and threw in a couple of strips of orange zest on a whim.  The subtle tang was a nice addition.

-  Serve stews with a slice a crusty bread, and follow up with a piece of home-made carrot cake.  Your spouse will adore you.

Oh, this weekend was so perfectly ‘weekend-ish’, full of good food, good times with friends, and a good dose of relaxation.  I didn’t have my camera with me at all over the past couple of days, but my handy iPhone captured the highlights:

Shane and I celebrated the end of the work week Schnell-style, and met at a bar downtown for some Happy Hour action.  Penn Cove mussels, garlic fries, and frothy pints of beer – these are the reasons it’s called ‘Happy Hour’.

We spent the rest of the evening with our friends Jason and Nancy, feasting on Jason’s tasty home-baked pizzas.  This one was my favorite – olive oil, onions, avacado, arugula, mmm…

Saturday morning was my monthly book club meeting with the ladies – which means a latte and buttermilk biscuit.  I’m afraid the book is secondary, really.

We spent Saturday afternoon at my office’s summer picnic, eating burgers and putt-putting a round of mini-golf.  Turns out I am terrible at mini-golf, but Shane can putt like a pro.  Go figure.

After church this morning, Shane and I headed over the Ballard Farmer’s Market.  Seemingly endless rows of fresh produce, brightly colored flowers, and locally made specialty foods.  And mini-donuts.  Let’s not forget the mini-donuts.

And finally, an afternoon spent doing some shopping, followed by a quiet Sunday evening at home.  Did some housework, some reading, and a yoga session that I will pretend can counteract the french fries, the pizza, the buttermik biscuit, the burger, and the mini-donuts.  Right.

Wowsers, what a week.  Some good (got back into my exercise groove with back-to-back evening runs with Shane), some bad (rough day at the office and I think I officially became ‘the girl that cries at work’ this afternoon…), and all of it very, very tiring.  T.G.I.F…  I need a recharge.  Looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow, maybe going for a morning jog down by the lake, taking in a movie with Shane, pulling my sketchbook out after a month-long art-making hiatus, hangin’ with some girlfriends tomorrow night – Saturdays are bliss.

You know what else is bliss?  The beets coming from our garden (how’s that for a segue?!).  They are finally ripe for the pickin’ and I am in root vegetable heaven.  Tonight I sliced a couple up, sauteed them in a little olive oil, then topped them with goat cheese crumbles and toasted walnuts.  Yep, it was every bit as delicious as it sounds.  Paired with a glass of Riesling and the Giants vs. Dodgers game on TV, and I was ready to leave this week behind me and embrace the chance to take a breather and relax.  T.G.I.F. (did I already say that?).

Every once in awhile, I have one of those moments that makes me think, ‘Duuuuude, I love Seattle!’.  Exhibit A (and B):

These longer hours of daylight have made me feel like we actually have more hours in the day, so when I got home from the gym tonight, instead of crashing out on the couch and calling it a day, I popped in the door and asked Shane if he’d be up for heading out to dinner at our most favorite pizza place.  With work and work-outs and the general to-do’s of our lives, it’s rare that we spontaneously go out on a weeknight, since we both need frequent low-key evenings at home to recharge, but I felt the need to celebrate our sun-shiny evening.  And I knew a night out at Tutta Bella would be an easy sell to the husband, considering that he has never turned down an offer of pizza in the 11 years I’ve known him.  We took our table by the window and ordered a couple of our favorites – the Giovanni, topped with prosciutto and arugula, was perfection, and the salame Pino never disappoints.  But considering this is the third time we’ve eaten pizza from this place in the last two weeks, I’d say we’re now due for a pizza fast – somehow cheese, salted meats, and pizza crust aren’t part of that ‘healthier eating’ plan I’ve been working on.  Actually, I might just have to rethink that plan altogether…

On our way home, we saw hints of pink in the sky over Beacon Hill, so we decided to jet over to the bridge that overlooks downtown and Elliott Bay to catch the final remnants the sunset – and although it was chilly out there, I felt like we were getting the first little peek of the summer that’s in store for us.  And that makes me very, very happy.

After what felt like a long work week, we declared Saturday a day of relaxation and indulgence.  There are few things I love more than having the freedom to spend a Saturday any which way we please.  And so indulgence number one came in the form of a latte and a pain au chocolat from Cafe Besalu – a small bakery/cafe in Ballard known for their deliciously buttery breakfast treats.  I truly believe chocolate croissants are one of God’s greatest gifts to mankind, and this one had to have been picked out especially for me from the Big Guy himself.  So light and flaky, rich and buttery, perfectly…perfect.  Yum.

Post-pastries, we hopped back in the car, and before Shane had even pulled away from the curb, I was thinking about how nice it would be to head home, get back into my pajamas, and spend the day cozied up on the couch.  My husband, however, had other plans, and decided that since our breakfast mission had been completed, he was ready for lunch and wanted to swing by Safeco Field to check out ‘Mobile Food Chowdown’ – a one-day-only gathering of Seattle’s and Portland’s best food carts.  In his defense, he had run 8 miles earlier that morning, so I obliged, thinking I could maybe make room in my stomach for a good taco or a small slice of pizza.  Unfortunately, by the time we arrived at the scene, the lines were already unbearably long for several of the carts, but Shane scored a tasty little burger from Skillet, and I waited in line for 45 minutes for an order of fries from Portland’s ‘Potato Champion’.  Yummy, but hardly worth the wait.  Ah, well, it was still a good day to be outside, and I love Pioneer Square on a clear, crisp day.

The rest of the afternoon was spent at home, reading and watching movies, basking in the laziness that was bound to follow such a decadent morning.  Then evening came, and wouldn’t you know it, Nancy, La V, and I had dinner reservations at Lark, which meant: more eating!  Yay!  We ordered plates of creamy cheeses, roasted duck leg, bacon-glazed kale, and ricotta gnudi, and ate ’till we could eat no more.  There was a point in the evening – I think it was as I was dipping my spoon into the dark chocolate mousse, served with white chocolate sorbet – when I thought, “Hmmmm…will I regret this when I’m pulling out my swimsuit for our vacation to Mexico next month?”  Then I tasted the cashew butter that had been spread on the plate right next to the chocolate, and I thought, “Nah.  Totally worth it.”  It was a perfect three-hour meal, full of good food that was only made better by the company of my lovely friends.

And so Saturday Splurge-Fest came to a close.  And once again, all was right with the world.