I’m sure a lot of you know that Halloween is my favorite day of the year. I start thinking about my costume months in advance.
We had a Halloween party at the Arlington Inn & Spa across the street from us. It was great fun and everyone who attended was thrilled Buzz & Tabetha did it again this year.
The best part of the Halloween party was Noah and Aja meeting us there. They were dressed as Rip & Beth from Yellowstone.
My heart skipped a beat when I saw them. My son looked like a handsome cowboy and Aja was stunningly beautiful.
It was a mom’s dream that they chose to hang out with us. It made my heart so full and happy.
I love getting dressed up as you may already know. My makeup was pretty amazing if I do say so myself.
I went through my costume closet and was able to pick out the perfect vampire costume.
It was a full moon on Saturday. This was a powerful hunter’s moon. It was magnificent! It disturbed many people’s sleep days before, including me.
No filter on this image. It was beautiful out!
We were up late on Saturday night so we had a slow Sunday morning. We had to work after a yummy breakfast.
We have a big order to fill so we put our heads down Sunday afternoon and cranked out a lot of spätzle.
Pumpkin pancakes and bacon.
It was a fun production with great music. The time passed quickly. We got a great start in filling the big order.
Tomorrow is Halloween! I look forward to handing candy out to trick-or-treaters. I put lots of candles on our front porch.
I’ll wear my regular street clothes but will do a simple dialed-back vampire look. I always have to dress up on Halloween day.
You are never too old to dress up or go trick or treating in my opinion.
Happy Halloween!! 🎃👻
***Posted from my iPhone so pardon any grammar mistakes
It’s happened slowly over time, but the pandemic pushed it over the finish line; I am a homebody. I know, I can’t believe it myself.
There is nothing wrong with being a homebody. As much as I like staying home, I still like small, intimate outings with friends and family.
I wrote about hygge a couple of months ago, and since then, it’s like I’ve transported myself to a different place.
In case you didn’t read myhygge piece, here’s the word’s definition. It’s pronounced two ways: hoo-ga or hue-ga. That shit below isn’t any help. Lol.
hyg·ge /ˈho͞oɡə,ˈho͝oɡə/
noun
A quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being (regarded as a defining characteristic of Danish culture).”why not follow the Danish example and bring more hygge into your daily life?”
This weekend has been a perfect example of being cozy as fuck. Marty is away at an EMS conference with Sam, so I’ve had the weekend with Nelly & Klausie.
I used to be antsy and bored alone, but not anymore. Yes, I miss Marty, but my alone time has been divine.
The cold, rainy, and raw weather provided the backdrop for coziness. I enjoyed the weather from the comforts of our home.
I didn’t set this weekend up, thinking it would be a hygge weekend since I’ve been living this way this fall. It just happens, and I love it.
I cooked and baked some of my favorite foods: cozy af foods. Again, there was no menu planning; I just ate what I felt.
Cozy af foods, aka comfort food, fit the bill this weekend. Each item was made with as much love as when I cook for others.
Delicious food = pleasure for me, even if it is a simple bowl of flagrant steamy rice topped with a pat of butter and a sprinkle of salt.
So what kind of cozy af food did I make? Food that felt like a big fat hug?
Friday afternoon, after Marty and Sam left, I made a pumpkin pie, one of those foods that should be made and eaten more than one day a year.
Friday night, for a late lunch, I made legit fried garlic and rosemary french fries, which are possibly one of my favorite foods that I couldn’t live without. ☘️
After reading a blog post that my friend Maria wrote. On Saturday morning, I recreated a dish her mother made for her. I texted her immediately and told her I couldn’t wait to make it.
She was going to make it also, “It’ll be like we are having breakfast together,” she texted back.
I made a warm bowl of milky rice porridge topped with a pat of butter and a generous sprinkling of cinnamon and sugar. It smelled so good.
You want to talk about a big hug; holy shit, it was so good! I’ll be making this again whenever I have some leftover rice.
Come to think of it, I may even make rice just for this porridge. I’ve been on a porridge kick using the word and the dish. It’s a seldom-used word that I happen to think sounds cozy af.
Since it was our 34th wedding anniversary yesterday, I thought about what I would order if we went out to eat; yeah, I know we rarely do, but whatever; I was pretending.
Like when I was a kid and always wanted either Italian or Chinese food for my birthday dinner, I chose Italian food: chicken parm and spaghetti, to be exact.
I get excited whenever I think about chicken parm because it’s another food I couldn’t live without. This meal is definitely a hug for me.
Chicken parm is not the act of making chicken and topping it with sauce and cheese; it’s the loving process of steps that makes it to die for, a true food of love.
I made a small pot of spaghetti sauce and let it simmer all afternoon, which smelled incredible. That familiar smell waifed through the house and was making my mouth water.
After making the sauce, I set up a dredging station and breaded the thin chicken cutlets I pounded the crap out of. I put them on a rack and stuck them in the fridge until dinner.
This rack trick ensures crispy chicken cutlets since the breading has time to stick to the chicken, and the bottoms don’t get soggy.
After I fed Nelly and Klaus, I turned on some cooking music, poured myself a glass of red wine, and began making dinner. I filled the kitchen with candles, another one of my favorite things.
We live in an 1832 historical home and love lighting the rooms with candles. I imagine what it must have felt like when the house was a servant’s quarters.
I set the kitchen island with a gorgeous placemat and cloth napkin, just like I do at most of our dinners. Just because I was dining alone, why should it be any different?
This is where Marty and I eat all our meals when it’s just the two of us. It’s a cozy af place to eat rather than the dining room. It’s like eating at a chef’s table, a special place to dine.
I fried the chicken cutlets and made my portion restaurant-style on a professional kitchen firing platter.
When the spaghetti was almost done, I threw the platter into a hot oven and watched it closely.
I no longer drain pasta in the sink since I always finish it in a saucepan. I butt the pasta pot up to the saucepan and transfer the pasta without too much of a mess.
I plated up my meal and sat down to eat. I didn’t feel lonely even though I missed Marty; I felt like I was home, not just a location, but a feeling deep down inside me.
My meal was delicious! This Jersey girl can cook Italian food like nobody’s business. My meal brought me back to one of my childhood birthday dinners at an Italian restaurant.
Sunday morning, I’m sitting on our loveseat in our back room sipping a cup of Earl Gray tea, another one of my favorite things. Those first few sips of warm tea have been sacred to me since I switched from coffee in February.
This spot in our backroom is my favorite place to write, looking out at the mountains with the light snoring from Nelly and Klaus. Talk about the feeling of contentment and coziness! How hygge!
Marty just texted me saying he missed us. I can’t wait until he and Sam get home tonight. I have a cozy af meal in mind to have waiting for them.
My mother, Eileen, passed away two years ago today. All I felt was relief and freedom, and I vowed not to go through this again with her through all bands of time.
The photo I chose came from an article written by Bethany Webster. I wasn’t sure what image I would use for this post, but then I saw this one.
For the last two years, I’ve worked through a lot of emotional shit my mother put me through. I am still working hard at it.
I haven’t been able to forgive the 50 years of constant emotional, psychological, and sometimes physical abuse. This shit has fucked me up big time.
There were too many mean attacks to remember or write about. I learned to always be on guard early because I never knew one would come out of nowhere.
Now that she is gone, I still cannot fathom, as a mother, how she could have behaved toward me the way she did.
When I see nine-year-olds, it’s unbelievable how anyone could turn on a child or treat them like Cinderella. How? Where did her anger and punishments come from?
I know my mother was whacked as fuck and conveniently forgot how she really treated me, or so she made it seem. Meryl Streep had nothing on my mother, who could act up a storm.
The photo with the mother holding the umbrella for the little girl struck a nerve. My mother appeared to take care of me, watch out for me, and love me.
However, in the shadows, only close family members knew differently but never came to my rescue or said anything. This I learned from my Godmother before she died; the greatest gift I ever received was finding out it was her and not me.
The photo reminded me of what my mother told me; she always sang “You Are My Sunshine” when I was little anytime we heard it. I don’t remember that ever happening; I remember things from 3 to 4 years old.
She called me “love” as an adult, which turned my stomach; she called me “you stupid son of a bitch” on an almost daily basis growing up. I cringe, still thinking about it.
The photo’s shadows remind me how I never told anyone about my life. My friends knew I couldn’t stand my mother, and I was often sick with ulcerative colitis. That’s all I let on. No one could stand their mother at times; this was different.
I think about why I never spoke with anyone about her. First, I didn’t trust anyone to tell for fear it would worsen things. I had no one to talk to. I still get angry with my father since he never once helped me. Why? I thought I was “daddy’s little girl.”
While cleaning the production kitchen this morning, I spoke to my mother directly. In a nutshell, I told her I wasn’t over the monster she was. I may never be.
I didn’t thank her for the abuse that made me a better, stronger person. A person who never gave her the satisfaction she was always looking for. She would stare at my face to see my reaction. She didn’t deserve it. Call me Poker Face.
I tried as hard as possible to summon a good memory, which there was, but I couldn’t. I can’t smile when I think about her or miss her. That’s how she left me, raw.
I know it’s all me that still tortures myself by her actions, so I try to push anything to do with her out of my head. I’m getting better at it.
I did think of her today because it’s the day she died. That’s it.
Life is back to normal and we have recovered from Covid. Such an annoying nuisance it has turned out to be.
Marty and Sam are heading out tomorrow morning to Syracuse for an EMS conference, something they participated in for the last few years.
It’s me, Nelly and Klaus, this rainy and cold weekend. I have no plans or expectations. No menu of food to make or projects planned.
The house was cleaned and all towels, linens and throw blankets were laundered to get rid of our sick germs. The rest of the laundry is caught up as well; and put away!!
I don’t mind a quiet weekend or celebrating our 34 wedding anniversary on Saturday when Marty gets back. No biggie.
Right now, I am enjoying the sunshine in our back room, my favorite place to hang out. ☀️
I’ve seen plenty of memes from the show called Nailed It. Ordinary people try to duplicate intricate desserts, but instead of nailing them, they are funny disasters.
This happened to me when I was about 20 years old. I tried to make the French dessert Petit fours. It was a disaster right from the get-go.
I was making these in my parent’s house, so I couldn’t lose my temper nearly as much as if I were in my place. First, you make a cake, then when it is cool, slice it into seven even layers. Impossible!
Next, you make the filling, usually a fruit variety; I made an apricot. Then, you carefully spread the filling on the layers of cake. My cake crumbled when I was applying the filling.
I kept working at my petit fours, thinking they still had a chance until I tried to pour the white icing on them. Then I tried dipping them. What a fucking mess!
I absent-mindedly began licking my fingers because things were sticking to them. Then I realized our dog Strudel’s black hair was in the icing.
I had a belly ache from too much sweet icing and threw 7 hours of work away. I haven’t tried making them again. I was enraged that the Petit Fours got the best of me.
I’ve gotten better at baking even though it’s not my favorite thing; I can do it. Unlike cooking, I don’t like the idea that the whole thing could turn into a flop.
My favorite cake I made was for my father-in-law Han’s birthday. He was a very sweet man with a good sense of humor; check out how he is holding the knife! 😂
I’ve made a lot of Black Forest cakes over the years, but I wanted to make Black Forest cupcakes for our Oktoberfest dinner party.
I wrote about how good they came out in my dinner party post and how delicious they were. I didn’t write about the behind-the-scenes drama but left a teaser at the end of the piece.
When planning the menu, I sought inspiration and found an image and recipe for Black Forest cupcakes that looked gorgeous! Oh, how I wanted mine to look like those! See where this is going?
I always make two tester cupcakes, so I don’t ruin the ones I want to serve. I followed the recipe exactly; it was rare, but this was baking.
I made the dark chocolate cupcakes, which were moist. Cherry filling I’ve made many times before, and it was no biggie.
The big biggie was the stabilized whipped cream. I was home alone and started letting my swear flow, weaving a tapestry of curses that impressed me.
Bakers use gelatin in the whipped cream. First off, the smell of gelatin made me sick to my stomach. I’ve been forced to eat a lot of jello when I had terrible ulcerative colitis flare-ups. Just the thought makes my stomach turn.
Even though I followed the recipe, the gelatin never did what it was supposed to. Instead, there were globs of gelatin in the whipped cream. I was pissed off here.
I tried putting it through a sieve, thinking I could save it, but that was a big waste of time and more dishes.
I scraped that damn whipped cream off the two cupcakes and threw it all away; I started fresh and made the whipped cream I’ve been making for decades.
I piped the new whipped cream on the cupcakes using a pastry bag. I was pleased with how they came out. They were far from perfect, but chocolate shavings would camouflage the imperfections.
I returned to the recipe I was trying to duplicate on the two practice cupcakes. Mistake number two. Big mistake!
Yup, I nailed it. They turned out as funny as the other baking and decorating debacles on the show. At least I didn’t spend more than 20 minutes on the disaster, unlike the poor bastards who spent hours on their creations.
Of course, I didn’t serve those; they were for us the next day and tasted as good as the nice-looking ones we served our guests.
These days, we’ve had to learn to pivot during and after the pandemic, so shrugging off my failed cupcake attempt was fine with me.
The day after I put out the teaser about my Nailed It experience, my friend who lives next door, David, sent me a text telling me he tried to make gluten-free apple muffins for us along with two photos, his and the recipe he followed photo. He definitely Nailed it. 😂
I told him it was the thought that counted and was very sweet of him to make us muffins.
I may never be an artistic baker, but that’s okay since I can cook my ass off like nobody’s business.
Have any of you had a Nailed It experience? I’d love to hear about it.
I had a Grinch like experience in the last couple of months, my hearted grew 10 times!
Christmas shopping always caused me anxiety. Come to think of it, all shopping for others always gives me anxiety.
Thanks to my mother, who was never pleased or satisfied with anything I ever chose for her is probably the root of this. Never once.
Living in the now or moment has changed me in ways that shock the hell out of me every day.
Instead if shopping for others stressing me out, the now me suddenly felt like I was looking forward to the holiday season.
After my boys were grown up, I went through a decade of depression and missed how excited I was for the holidays.
As an empty nester, I’m in a place in between having grown up children and having grandkids.
I began my holiday ideas and when I saw something that I wanted to give someone I said fuck it and bought right then and there.
Now, I am done and have no holiday gift giving stress. It’s pretty damn amazing. When the kids were little I keeping thinking they need one more thing.
Not anymore, these gifts were purchased or made with love, creativity. And not out of obligation.
The Grinch quote above resonated with me this year, “What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?”
Funny, I just let out a big sigh or contentment after I typed that last line.
Decide to make today a good one. Go into each day with no expectations and you may be pleasantly surprised. ♥️
*** No editing on this post since I am running out to the production kitchen as I press the publish button.
Last night was our Oktoberfest dinner party I began planning for a month ago. Bottom line…it was a success and a lovely evening.
Our dinner party included our friends and neighbors Buzz & Tabetha, owners of the Arlington Inn—the guys from next door, David & Arthur, and of course, our good buddy, Martin.
I am glad I took photos of the food as I made it and some before our friends arrived. The table setting was a modern take on harvest time.
Like other dinner parties, I didn’t take photos of my food. I realize now I probably never will since I like to be present when we have guests, not on my phone.
My menu included a relish plate with quick pickled beets that came out great for a first try and not using a recipe.
I made up a drink called a Kirsh Cocktail, which was cherry brandy and a maraschino cherry in the bottom of a wine glass, then topped with Prosecco. It was a hit.
After everyone had a cocktail, I served silver dollar potato pancakes with freshly made applesauce and sour cream. I purposely made just enough; I didn’t want everyone to fill up on an appetizer. Everyone loved them; if I made double, they would have been gone in a flash.
I set up a buffet for dinner in the kitchen. The menu consisted of pork schnitzel topped with lemon, spätzle with mushroom cream sauce, red cabbage, and weisswurst with sauerkraut, apples and onions.
My friend Arthur doesn’t eat pork or beef. I made him chicken schnitzel with lemon, sausage with apples, and brown sugar. The sausage was delicious, something I will buy for us again.
I was pleased with how the food came out. When Chef Martin was making his plate, I said to him, “German food is really brown, isn’t it?” We both laughed in agreement, not that Irish food is any better.
For dessert, I made black forest cupcakes, which were too big since they were rich and filling. I was delighted with the result. Note to self: next time, make smaller cupcakes, Julz.
I’m writing a post next titled Nailed It, describing the trials and tribulations of my dessert if you are familiar with Nailed It, you will know what to expect.
Klaus and little Nelly were well-behaved after the Initial excitement from guests arriving. I was smart and put away all their toys except for things they could chew on.
This was the most brilliant decision I made for our dinner party. Usually, Klaus is a pain in the ass, shoving toys into people’s legs because he wants to play fetch.
On the other hand, Nelly loves to play with Klaus, stealing the toys from him and making them run circles through the living room, dining room, and kitchen.
Instead, Nelly and Klaus laid on the floor while people were talking, each chewing on a chewy toy. This was a revelation and something that I will do whenever we have people over.
That’s two dinner parties in the books for 2023. I love planning and cooking for my friends and family. I told Martin I know you know how great it feels to host and cook delicious food for people you love. He smiled, nodding, saying he did. There’s nothing quite like it. ☺️
I woke up at 7 am and came downstairs to let Klaus out. I left Marty and Nelly, who had their heads on pillows in the same position breathing softly.
I grabbed a blanket and snuggled with Klaus and wrote a blog post about our dinner party last night. I still have to edit and let my laptop charge.
When the sleepy heads emerged, things got crazy fast since Nelly is always happy to see Klaus and vice versa.
My tiny Halloween corner in the kitchen.
They played while we sipped our tea and coffee. I put on a soft jazz playlist and lit a apple cider candle and began emptying our dishwasher and drying rack from last night.
I wanted a cozy breakfast that sticks with the porridge type food I’ve been craving. I made creamy grits with over easy eggs. It was satisfying and perfect on a chilly morning.
As I am looking out our back room windows, the foliage this years is nothing to write home about. The pounding rain took down a lot of leaves.
Tourists still visited our area for a fall getaway or one of the many weddings this holiday weekend.
Our friends Buzz and Tabetha, new owners of the Arlington Inn, reopened the old Deming Tavern after a complete, much needed, ceiling to floor renovation, opening up the tavern to accommodate more people.
The tavern is beautiful! Tab did a wonderful job sourcing the appropriate time period pieces that makes the place ooze with charm.
They purchased the Arlington Inn last year and have done non stop renovations bringing the neglected Inn back to life.
We were invited to the soft opening which was wonderful! We are so happy to have a place to go to once a week again!
Bottoms up Martin!
My laptop is charged! I’m ready to edit my next blog post! Have a great day guys! The good news for us is the skies are turning blue and the sun is coming out! Yay!
*** I didn’t edit this piece so it’s a case of it is what it is.
A few weeks ago, I invited our small circle of friends to an Oktoberfest dinner party. The theme makes sense since do have a German food business.
As soon as the replies came saying our friends could come, I made my menu. Marty asked if I was going to start cooking already. 😂
I dislike rushing around and began picking up ingredients last week. I was so excited on Thursday because I could start making a couple of things in advance.
Yesterday, I baked and cooked many of my menu items, the ones that only get better when made a couple of days ahead, like red cabbage and sauerkraut with apples and onions.
Today is all about cooking, tidying up, and setting the table, my favorite thing to do.
I’m taking photos of my dinner party food this time; the last one we had was in January, I forgot to.
The last detail is what I’m the hell I’m going to wear. Always important to me since I was a little girl.
Back then, I wanted to wear my Mary Jane’s every time we went out. I still have a pair, just not patent leather.
