Mint Mojito Iced Coffee

It's one hundred million degrees outside today, and of course I decided this was the day to pull the jungle of weeds and deadhead the rose bushes. I got totally soaked before I started, trying to fill up the kiddie pool with a hose that got fastened to the spigot weirdly, and I'm 7 months pregnant. I'm sure my sweat- and dirt-stained brow, diaper-clad toddler, and hunched posture made more than one passerby look askance. But the yard work is done! And now I'm in my blissfully air conditioned home, said toddler is napping, and it's time for a little pick-me-up/cool-me-down.

When we were in California a few weeks ago, we discovered Philz Coffee, a local coffee shop where each cup is individually hand-crafted. From their website: "We wouldn't even call this a cup of coffee; rather 'A Cup of Love.'" Of course, individually-brewed coffee means a high price tag and a long long wait, but when in Rome... you know. My sweet friend recommended this drink when we stopped by on our way back from the farmers market, and after one sip, I knew I was destined to re-make it at home.



A giant handful of smashed, bruised, fresh mint. Ice. Sugar. Milk. Coffee. I declare this to be a cup of love, indeed. Here's to lots more afternoons lounging by the kiddie pool. Cheers!



Mint Mojito Iced Coffee

Ice
10-20 fresh mint leaves (from 2-3 sprigs), plus an extra sprig to garnish
1 tablespoon maple syrup
8-12 ounces coffee (cool, ideally)
a couple of splashes of half and half (or milk, or cream)

Layer the mint and ice in a tall glass. Add the maple syrup, coffee, and cream, and use a straw to muddle the mint leaves a bit, releasing more of the minty flavor. Enjoy.

Café du Monde: Beignets et Café au Lait

For our first anniversary, the Coppertop Guy and I went to New Orleans for a long weekend. I arrived clutching a list of must-try dishes, which included po'boys, alligator, gumbo, bananas foster, and of course, beignets and café au lait at the famous Café du Monde.





Beignets are bits of dough that are fried until puffy and brown and then, as you can see, covered in a mountain of powdered sugar that gets all over you while you eat. It's part of the experience. Be careful not to breathe in as you take a bite - the sugar goes right down your windpipe, and that's not fun for anybody.



(My mom has the most adorable collection of antique teacups - perfect for café au lait)



Recreating this decadent treat at home could not be simpler: there's a just-add-water mix! I see it at the grocery store a lot around this time of year, or you can order it online. Usually I'm not a fan of such things, preferring to make from scratch, but there's an element of nostalgia when you open this box, knowing that it came straight from the source. It's as if there's a bit of New Orleans stowed away inside.

Café au Lait

3 cups milk
1/4 cup ground coffee, such as French roast or Café du Monde coffee and chicory

Heat milk in a small saucepan over medium heat until steaming. Do not boil. Prepare coffee in a stovetop espresso maker. Pour coffee into the hot milk and stir to combine.

Serves 4.

Farm-cation

Today, rather than celebrating Halloween with you, I would like to celebrate the final day of National Cheese Month by telling you about Liberty Hill Farm, where we spent two wonderful nights a couple of weeks ago!

Liberty Hill is situated on the edge of the Green Mountain National Forest near Rochester, Vermont.  It's surrounded by lush mountains which, when we visited, were tinged red and gold.  We arrived in the late afternoon and were welcomed by Beth's warm smile and the delicious aroma wafting from the kitchen.  While we ate dinner in the cozy dining room, Beth shared some of the farm's history with us.

The farm was founded in 1780 by John Emerson.  Bob and Beth Kennett purchased it in 1979, and have been taking in guests since 1984.  You could say they were pioneers of the now-popular agritourism industry!  They raised two sons--David and Tom--who went off to college, then returned to the farm to work and live with their growing families.  Bob and Beth both come from old farming families - Beth's ancestors starting farming in Maine in 1641, and Bob's in New Hampshire in 1742.

The inn is clean, homey, and deliciously quiet, especially to our noise-conditioned city-mouse ears.  It really felt more like we were staying with extended family.  In the morning, we awoke to a pink sunrise over Rochester Mountain.  After a delicious hearty breakfast, we borrowed some of the rubber boots that are kept on the front porch for guests and started exploring. 

Liberty Hill Farm is a member of the Cabot Co-operative.  Every morning before dawn, a truck comes to pick up the milk.  I was amazed at the volume of milk the farm produces every day - each cow produces about 60 pounds per milking, and they milk about 100 cows twice a day.  That translates into 12,000 pounds, or about 1500 gallons every single day!  100% of Cabot's profits go directly back to Vermont family farms.  Many of their products are only available locally or online, but you can get their Cheddar in the fancy-cheese aisle at most grocery stores and Costco.  And their butter is the best I've ever tasted - the second night at dinner, I ate extra bread just so that I could eat extra butter.

Kitten on the prowl!  They have tons of barn cats who just wander around.  This one was so teeny!

This calf was only about a week old!  The little ones (about a month old or younger) all have their own little calf pens, and they get fed a calf formula (cheaper and more consistent nutritionally than milk) twice a day.  When they hear the food coming, they all start mooing like crazy!  I got to help a little by putting the buckets of formula into their little calf-house windows.

We had a wonderful time, and I can't wait to come back with our kids someday.

to live deliberately

"I went to the woods because

I wished to live deliberately.

To front only the essential

facts of life.

And see if I could

not learn what it had to teach

and not, when I came to die,

discover that I had not lived." -Thoreau

As we tripped our way through all the former haunts of famous literary figures in New England, I constantly found myself thinking about creativity.  About inspiration and quiet, nature and art.  About what it must have been like to be among the first people to be classified as "American" writers, poets, artists, and what that meant in the grand scheme of the world at that time.

We visited Concord, home to Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Louisa May Alcott, and Henry David Thoreau.  We drove past Sleepy Hollow.  We walked around Walden Pond, and saw the site where Thoreau spent two years living by himself in the woods; where he penned Walden.  We traced the steps of Robert Frost on a trail in the Green Mountains, close to Middlebury, Vermont.

Whenever I return from traveling, I feel this nagging sense of unease.  Doesn't everyone?  I've just opened myself to new experiences, absorbed beauty, met new people, learned new things.  Then I come back to my life, and it is as it was when I left.  I always feel this pull to start changing things.  A resolve to bring some of that sparkle of adventure into my daily life.  To start living more deliberately.

The thoughts usually start with a kind of recurring minor regret from my past in which I think, "If only I had... *studied literature and creative writing instead of music, gone to a small East coast liberal arts college, read more books, kept writing for the school paper, focused on something and gotten myself into a Master's program blah blah blah,* ...I would magically feel different and more fulfilled right now."

"If only"s are so tricky, aren't they?  That's where I always start, until I realize that I have control over my thoughts.  Then I adjust my mental course.  I remind myself that the sheer fact that I haven't done all the things I want to yet doesn't mean that it's all over and I've missed my chance.  Girl, please.  That's nonsense.  Also?  Also?  Just because you can't stay ahead of the laundry and you would rather eat cookies than work out most days and your bathroom's not that clean does not make you a failure.  No it does not.

So I will take those rankling thoughts and turn them into hopeful action.  I'll start working on the idea for a novel that popped into my head as we wandered through a lighthouse in Maine.  I'll remind myself that life is not settled at 25.  And I will read more, write more, imagine more.  I'll seek out every opportunity to be fanciful, whimsical, and inspired.

7 Quick Takes: Things to Eat in New England!

It's been a hectic week around here!  No time for posting!  I'm seriously sad about that, but in lieu of several long, self-indulgent posts about all of the things we ate on vacation, I will translate them into seven little quick takes!

1.

Cannoli!  Mike's Pastry in the North End of Boston has about a million flavors - I decided to try espresso and pistachio ones.  They were fantastic!  I ate a giant dish of linguine alle vongole (omg yum) before we went for cannoli, so I wasn't able to eat them all, but leftover cannoli?  Unbelievable breakfast.  I ate them out on our little balcony overlooking these old brownstones, and writing in my journal.

2.

Dim sum at Myers + Chang.  These are kimchee pancakes.  We also had short rib and pork bao, pork dumplings, noodles with spicy peanut sauce, and  miso-glazed carrots, which I will be recreating for Thanksgiving.  So delicious.  And a great Sunday lunch in the middle of a long day of riding bikes around Boston! 

3.

ICE CREAM!  Maybe it's because famous-for-dairy Vermont is next door, or maybe it's because we were on vacation, but this was some of the best ice cream either of us is ever had.  J.P. Licks.  Believe.

4.

Oysters!  I've been wanting to eat oysters ever since I read Hemingway's A Moveable Feast a couple of years ago, but wanted to wait until I was sure to have a good experience before I did.  I finally took the plunge last week, and I'm both glad I tried them and glad I waited.  Atlantic Fish Co.  in Boston was the perfect place to eat such an amazing food for the first time.  More to come about oysters later, but for now, this is one of the loveliest pieces of food writing ever crafted:

"As I ate the oysters with their strong taste of the sea and their faint metallic taste that the cold white wine washed away, leaving only the sea taste and the succulent texture, and as I drank their cold liquid from each shell and washed it down with the crisp taste of the wine, I lost the empty feeling and began to be happy and to make plans."  (from A Moveable Feast)

5.

Clam chowder.  I ate it a couple of times, but the most fun chowda stop was this roadside diner in New Hampshire.  The sign outside said, "Come hungry, LEAF happy."  BAHAHAHA!  Gotta love puns.

6.

A lobster roll.  At a lobster shack.  By a lighthouse.  In a place called Cape Elizabeth (in Maine).  On a blustery, rainy, cold North Atlantic day.  Fabulous.

7.

Spit-roasted rabbit at Fore Street in Portland, Maine.  Another first for me.  Actually tastes like chicken, but it's just leaner and more muscley.  It was served with a lentil/cranberry/ginger sauce that made me crazy (and felt like more Thanksgiving dinner inspiration...).  Fore Street is a really cool restaurant, too - the open kitchen is in the center of the restaurant, so you can see the action.  Everything was fresh and seasonal and local and delicious.  So fun.

Have a great weekend!  Hopefully next week will be a little calmer and I'll be posting more often!

Visit Jen for more quick takes.

We're back!

The Coppertop Guy and I spent the last week adventuring in New England, peeping at the fall colors, learning about the roots of our country, and eating! 

 

 

 

We flew into Boston on Saturday, spent a couple of days there, drove up to Lexington and Concord, and then up to Vermont.  We stayed at Liberty Hill Farm, and did some hiking in the Green Mountains.  I fed a baby cow!  Then we drove over to Portland, Maine and spent a couple of rainy days eating lobster and looking at lighthouses.  I feel so refreshed and rejuvenated.  I'll tell you all about it over the next few days, but for now I just wanted to say hi, how are ya, I missed you and I'm baaaaaack! 

Straight to the source

This weekend we attended the wedding of some good friends of ours on Notre Dame's campus in South Bend, Indiana.  Since graduation, a lot of our friends have scattered far and wide across the country and the world, and weddings have been some of the only times we've all been able to see each other.  My husband was incredibly blessed to meet the great friends he did in college, and I am constantly thankful that they all managed to select such fabulous wives.

I love going to weddings.  I love to see how people's personalities shine through in all the decisions they've made about so many tiny details.  And there was personality galore at this wedding: instead of traditional place cards, the bride and groom gave each guest a 4-ounce jar of homemade raspberry jam with their name and table number on top.  And look at these centerpieces!

 

Vintage tins found in Grandpa's basement, and vintage glass vases and Mason jars to hold flowers.  Wooden boxes full of apples!  I die.  It was just the right amount of whimsy.

 

Personalized reusable grocery bags were tied with ribbon to the back of each chair.

 

And the groom's sister handmade all the pies for the reception!  They were delicious.

The grocery bags came in handy right away!  On the way back to Chicago, we stopped at Garwood Orchard and U-Pick Farm in La Porte, Indiana.  We picked 23 pounds of honeycrisp apples, and a half-bushel of Roma tomatoes, and then at the farm store we got eggplants, peppers, butternut squash, and of COURSE, cider and donuts.

It was the perfect end to a lovely weekend!  Not to mention the fact that it solved all my worries about not being able to go to the market this weekend - we went straight to the source!  Waaaay better.