Yankee Visitors

Bicycle Boy graced me with this presence over Vetern's Day weekend.  He flew through choppy skies to come to Cowtown.  The big plans for the weekend?  Lots of food with some culture and laughs thrown in.

We started off the weekend by attempting to eat at the best place to get chili...or so we're told. The screaming loud Eagles cover band and hour wait at 9pm on a Friday convinced us that chili wasn't that important.  Instead we headed across the historic street to a bar where we were the youngest patrons.  Yes, we were the youngest patrons.  Not sure what it says about us when we were also the first to leave.  Maybe that we're old? Nah, more like we both worked a really long day and it was late.

Saturday morning brought early risers and a fantastic breakfast at the Ol' South Pancake House. I had never experienced anything quite like a skillet full of biscuits and white gravy.

I am certain that one breakfast took years off my life. It might have been worth it.  Because we were up so early we missed the late morning college students, stumbling in bleary eyed and hung over hoping their team would win that afternoon. We did not miss the other world that exists prior to 10 am. Whole families are up and about!  Old couples who still walk hand in hand! Slightly clueless teenagers who look confused about why the sun is so low in the sky! It was nice to not have to wait for an hour for a table, in any case.

We decided to stroll off breakfast by walking around downtown.  As we passed the performance venue downtown, we were offered a free tour.  Perfect timing for a theater nerd and a music geek who didn't have anything planned! Bass Performance Hall is a stately building, to say the least, from the outside. Inside it has some beautiful touches while encompassing all of the staid hallmarks of performance halls.

My past history with all things theater related make me a bit of a critic, and most of my criticism is completely unfounded. I admit it. I know what I like and what I don't and I don't really care to defend myself on either count. There were some beautiful art deco touches that I appreciated and would like to see a show there at some point.

But it didn't remind me of the Benedum or Heinz Hall in any respect.  More along the lines of a high brow Pittsburgh Public Theater. It seats a mere 2000. It has none of the history, pomp, circumstance or lovely couches in the ladies loo that history has taught me is important.  It smacks of carpetbagging, in a way. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against new theaters - despite the impression I'm currently giving here. But I have a much greater appreciation for the huge behemoths that reside in Yankeeland's arts district.

 (Picture courtesy of http://www.pgharts.org)

Call me uneducated or stuck in the past, it's ok, I can handle it.

Bicycle Boy and I's food tour continued to The Flying Saucer where we indulged in pretzels and beer, an enjoyable afternoon chatting over good food. He was much impressed with the selection, both of the beers and the locals.  We had planned on Joe T's for dinner, which is pretty much a given if you come visit. But by the time evening rolled around we were both still full from lunch and would not have been able to appreciate Joe T's the way it deserves.  Some Wii playing and catching up and then it was time to dream of Joe T's.

Joe T's is a landmark.  If I knew how to do fancy things like link to a previous post, I could take you right there when Little Sis and I went.  Unfortunately, I have no idea how to do that. Take my Yankee word for it, it's pretty fantastic. Maybe I'll take a bunch back when I go home in June?  How's that for wedding food, Lil B? We hit it up right as they opened for brunch which translates to no wait instead of the very long line that is present an hour to two later. The food didn't disappoint, and Biker Boy was in heaven. I finally had migas and they made me want to be Mexican.

It was a great weekend, full of food and food.

I Don't "Black Friday"...

...because it makes me break into a cold sweat to think of that many really focused people in one place.
And I'd rather save myself the panic attack than save the money.  Plus, most of my Christmas shopping this year is etsy related or not anything that would be a great bargain any one day versus another.

This Thanksgiving was my second away from home. On the flip side, it was the second Thanksgiving with friends! This time there was no 9 hour drive, just good homemade food and a 30 second walk. This year also marked the first time I had a piece of pecan pie that made me wonder what I've been missing all these years!  It was divine and surprising, since I thought it was chocolate chess pie, and far surpassed any pecan pie I have ever tried.  Maybe it's being in the Deep South that is the difference.

I even went into Wal-Mart and bought Christmas cards today. Thought I'd make the most of the break from work. On the negative side of things, I backed into a tree today. Still finding those blind spots 19 months later.

Childhood Swirls and Cinnamon Whorls

Dear Spunky Showkids,

I'd like to provide a little glimpse into my childhood. Whilst growing up, the Mother of All of Us was a stay at home mom. She had three hooligans to keep track of...well, I was never a hooligan.  At least not until I was in high school, and even then it was more pseudo-hooligan. But MIB and Lil B kept her busy while I polished my halo and thought sweet thoughts. Yes, I was all over that world peace problem while they ran around shooting things with sticks. Mother of All of Us, I do remember a certain incident when Best Friend and I held a talcum powder parade, don't worry.

I was not a girly girl that was interested in sitting around looking pretty. I was more terrified of stepping foot outdoors and encountering either brother or any cousin.  They worked extremely hard to make me a tomboy.  It failed miserably, but they did give it the old college try. I was the only girl in the neighborhood, unless BP was visiting her grandparents, and all of the kids were cousins or brothers. I was so happy to have a red-headed Best Friend who lived one neighborhood over.

Best Friend and I met at age 3, according to local legend, when our brothers started kindergarten.  I have a hysterical picture of the two of us when we're probably four or five. My head is bigger than her entire body. Honestly, I look a little freakish. And I'm wearing my most favorite dress which is reminiscent of what Heidi would wear to help her Grandfather with the goats. But I digress. When I think of Best Friend what immediately comes to mind is salami sandwiches, cool ranch Doritos and ice cold pepsi on a porch swing.  Apparently we could have been a cross company add for all that was considered cool in the 80's. Underlying that obsession with food are secrets whispered at night, riding the lawnmower in circles over her lawn, selling bookmarks along a rural road (what were we thinking?), rhubarb dares, and an intimate knowledge of all things Disney. And underlying that is a connection that 28 years later is still there despite high school, moves, college, moves, weddings, moves and kids. We moved a lot!

Because the Mother of All of Us was home during the day, we would often troop in after school to the smell of fresh bread in the oven and soup on the stove. There are few things better in life than opening a front door following the walk home from school, feeling the snowflakes dissolve in your hair, the sting of blood in the cheeks, sensation returning to the tips of your fingers while being surrounded by the smells of home. 

I made homemade bread this past weekend for the first time by myself. I worried over the yeast and when I started to knead it, while it smelled like dough, it was so sticky I thought I'd ruined the whole batch.  But the funny thing about bread dough is that the more you knead it, the less sticky it is.  The logical explanation is probably scientific and revolves around gluten releasing or yeast expanding - Alton Brown, if you're reading this please explain. 

All I know is that I giggled like a little girl, so excited that it was working! A distinct feeling of "I've been here before. I've kneaded dough before. This smells right, this feels right." permeated the whole experience. Then I got to worry about the dough rising...until I tapped into the experienced generation that is The Grandmother and the Mother of All of Us. Tips for rising the dough faster were given, accepted, put into use and at the end of it, I had a beautiful loaf of cinnamon swirl bread.

Old school rising technique



And a little reminder of my childhood.

Seasons

I woke up this morning to temperatures in the 40s. Which makes me want to dance for joy and make fresh coffee and cinnamon rolls and break out all of the winter sweaters. When I moved here a year and a half ago, everyone assumed that I did not like having four distinct seasons. I'm still not sure what brought on this misconception. I love four seasons, I adore the change from gold dust leaves to icy snowflakes to tender irises. I endure the change from irises to scorching sun. Of all the seasons my least favorite is Summer.  Sacrilege to say here in the Deep South, I know. But I did say it and I'll probably say it again.

Fall here is short and bittersweet, much to my dismay. It came in this past week and I'm sure it will be gone in another few. Although, truth be told, Winter is so similar to Fall that I'm not sure I'll even notice. In Yankeeland, Winter is demarcated by the first snowfall that sticks, by more soup and hot bread at dinner, by the need for scarves and gloves in the mornings, school projects that revolve around snowflakes and snowmen. My first Winter in the Deep South snuck up on me and while I was thinking it was Fall everyone else realized it was Winter.  In defense of Winter, last year did see a record amount of snowfall in the Deep South...in February. And some bitter cold temperatures...in February.  

I should say that I do love that I can wear flip flops 8 months out of the year. That coats are optional between March and November.  That the sky is bluer than I think I've ever seen anywhere else. That I live where people want to come visit and see the sites. That it storms few times throughout the year. Sure, we have some severe weather a couple months out of the year, but it is far outweighed by the atmospheric riches most of the time.

Still, I am so over the moon that Fall is here, even if it's only for a short while.