18/365 "joy"

Grandma's recipe
With some chocolate chips thrown in
Still tastes just like love

17/365 "joy"

To condole the beasts young & old(er) who will likely be denied a snow day.

angell food

So I got an e-mail from Chris Angell at the beginning of the month.



Not this one. He spells his name differently and kind of creeps me out.



Actually, it was Christopher Angell who very well may be a magician too since he (along with his wife Suzanne) has created the most delicious AND eco-friendly/organic/fair trade chocolate bars I have ever encountered. They sent me a sample of their wares asking that I give a review and after much soul searching, I agreed.



The goods before I devoured them. Then wept.



There is Angell Crisp which is milk chocolate with a crispy rice crunch; Snow Angell, a white chocolate-coconut confection; and Dark Angell which is frankly like David Boreanaz in candy bar form [okay, it's actually dark chocolate, creamy cocoa, and almonds but it definitely made me want to be bitten by a vampire with a good heart].

It was immensely difficult to choose a favorite as each was like a choir of angels in my mouth. I cut them up and shared (I know, I'm a saint) to get a round of opinions, which only made things more difficult. Everyone loved all of them but we were able to articulate, between yummy sounds, what made each flavor delightful.

The Angell Crisp is indeed as simple as it sounds - milk chocolate + that fun old candy bar staple, crispy rice - but the way they have blended everything (with magic?), it is somehow smooth and slightly crunchy at the same time. It melts in the mouth and tastes like childhood.

Snow Angell is the one we all expected to like the least (white chocolate can be a hard sell, and two out of four family members don't normally like coconut) but it seduced us all with its impossibly creamy texture and soft, sweet tropical center.

The Dark Angell tastes like something that should be sold for a great deal of money in a hipster restaurant where it would be presented on a fancy blown-glass plate and eaten with a fork. And some wine. It has depth, like a truffle, and is so rich. Its flavor haunts me.

Christopher & Suzanne's story is sweet (ha!) and inspiring. Everything they are doing with their business speaks to my mom/teacher/citizen/romantic values and I wish them tremendous success. If I could get our local grocery stores to carry Angell bars (my solitary complaint), I might singlehandedly provide the Angells with funding for their kids' college educations. Because I am all about chocolate that is good for everyone - inside & out, from beginning to the most delicious end.

local love

My truly good friend Holly treated me to delightful lunch & dessert in SE Portland this afternoon in honor of my impending birthday, and I am compelled to share these gems we visited so you, too, may indulge when you find yourself in the neighborhood.

First stop: Creme de la Creme, a jaunty bus named "Charlotte" that has been converted into a magical French bistro by Holly's lovely friend Bianca [which happens to be my very favorite name since seeing The Rescuers as a kid and reading Taming of the Shrew in 9th grade; only good people/mice can be Biancas].

Bon jour, Charlotte

I partook of the croque monsieur (buttery cheesy hammy perfection on a plate) and shared with Holly the most extraordinary escargot in a bowl of garlicky butter sauce; those snails were obviously raised in a loving, pampered home to have tasted so tender.  Mon dieu and merci.

Hello, delicious Mr. Crunchy

Because my dear Holly is bon amis with the lovely Bianca, we were given a tour of the bus/kitchen where the French magic happens. I think I could live there, and you know how I generally feel about camping and cooking. Creme de la Creme, oh oui.

Bianca and her garcon, Guillaume
Je les aime

As we sauntered back to our car, Holly & I were drawn into Couronne Chocolate where we immediately startled then ingratiated the clerk with our giddy references to Chocolat. (I find worship of Johnny Depp is a universal link among women; it must be so difficult being him. I should offer to console him. I digress).

Everything looks edible in here

There were samples of caramels to convince us that we would, indeed, mortgage our homes to keep this place in business. Besides the typical [though still spectacularly tasty] offerings, Couronne creates whimsical treats like maple bacon brittle (which I bought for Stu to take to Boy Scout camp) and solid chocolate mustaches on sticks.

My selections were staged on this silver plate while I continued to shop

To be clear, I received nothing free today. Except my lunch because Holly was placating me because I felt ignored earlier this week celebrating me, and the sea salt caramel sample which was technically up for grabs to whoever walked through the shop door. I simply want to pass on the love I felt at these places today, because love is such a nice thing to share.

i'm in

photo by me, 2009


Delicious Wordless Wednesday

give us the chocolate cake

To all the heroic dads out there

via videosift.com

Happy Father's Day

delicious

Amsterdam

photo by me, 2008

sunday sweetness

My best friend Jen invited me to her friend's graduation from the Oregon Culinary Institute. After much arm-twisting, I agreed to go.

Muah-hahaha. I'm so there.

Truffles and nougats and meringues, oh my!


I swear I was not the one who swiped a finger
through that decorative chocolate...



Little cups of melted chocolate, I want to marry you.

Lori's extraordinary array of goodies - you can even eat the dishes.

I want her to graduate every weekend...

good stuff

My friend Shana is finding grace in every day and I want to play, too. Especially after this week, which while not exactly bad felt uninspiring and nearly useless. And I hate that because what if I really did only have 37 days left in my life and I just spent numbers 33-36 being all grouchy & negative? Foolish. So here are some things that I am immensely grateful for, in no particular order:

• A pleasant drive to a pleasant workshop with our school's beyond-pleasant counselor
• Fantastic ham sandwich & Pepsi at a quaint deli in Longview
• Helping a student who was near tears work through his short story writer's block
• The spontaneous, vigorous hug from that student after he busted through the block
• Successfully getting up early three days this week
• Apple almond tart in the teachers' lounge
• Finishing Season 1 of Dexter [Shana! Let's get together so I can give you cookies in exchange for Season 2!]
• Seeing a preliminary floor plan for our new building
• Grocery shopping (even without hottie checkers...sigh)
• Italian chocolate bars from Stu's sister
• Pizza with best friends

How were you blessed this week? Let it out.

we interrupt tonight's regularly scheduled post...

There was homemade ice cream & cookies

Mints & Mona Lisa
(We were at Ice Cream Renaissance...Get it?)


But best of all - Ladies Who Blog
Lia, Lisa, Shana, Holly, & moi
(photo by best friend Jen)

milk, wine, chocolate, Cheetos. what?

I hit the Target tonight for the necessary dairy staple and helped out my best friend by picking up chips for her son's birthday party tomorrow, then grabbed some chocolate for another friend's housewarming gift and THEN discovered one of my favorite wines (Chateau Ste. Michelle Gewurtztraminer [I really like saying that with my Frau Blucher accent]) on sale for $5.49. But I didn't feel judged at all in the checkout line, mainly because it was 8:15 p.m. and the checker was just ready to go home, not worry about my items. Though she did card me; I immediately prayed for a thousand blessings on her.

This post is essentially my online version of a lost grocery list; if it were on actual paper and dropped outside the store, someone might send it in to Found Magazine and speculate on my hormonal cycle.

Please feel free to skip that step.

a night in the life of...

Well, I was too bloody lazy to get my camera at 6:00 this morning (when I awoke, walked into the bathroom to turn off my alarm, then went back to bed until 7:15), too busy engaging in my self-imposed urgency to document getting ready, and then the rest was relatively tedious and/or embarrassing, so here instead are some pics from Friday's fun.

Our posh choice for the evening.

Lovely ladies at my table

The posh menu [with humorous asides]

Awaiting my freshly shaken drink

Glitter Pants for me!

(Oh yes that is a rock candy stick garnish)

Time for a work-of-art dessert

Yes. Candied bacon on chocolate torte.

Swear. to. God.

And it was good.

little piece of home abroad

My Grocery Store Hottie has been MIA for many weeks now - so many that he cannot possibly be merely ill or on vacation; it is evident he no longer works for Whole Foods [formerly Wild Oats, which was a far more appropriate name considering why I shopped there]. I have heaved grand sighs about this development (not to mention gone back to shopping the normal once a week, thus saving our family thousands of dollars in gas and random grocery purchases), and felt I had gotten over it.

But when in London, we stumbled across a little cafe off Carnaby Street where I could get a much-desired not-Starbucks coffee. When I went to place my order, I was struck by how much the barista reminded me of my long-lost grocery boy. He was jailbaitish on the young side, had rugged yet boyish looks (two healing black eyes - Edward Norton in Fight Club, anyone?), and most importantly, was absolutely indifferent to me. Even Stu was sympathetic and offered to take a picture of me with him in the background, but that felt particularly desperate and silly I said no thanks. And so all I have is this photo, along with my memory of our single bittersweet non-encounter. Because I swear I did not go back to that coffee shop again during our visit. I didn't even consider it. Really.

This cream-filled blueberry muffin proved a workable salve for my bruised ego.

photo by me @ Fair Grounds, London 2008

the holly & the ivy

Bloggers without borders

The Holly:

Tuesday last (don't I sound so European? heh), Stu & I met up with the lovely lady of Never Everland, aka Wales (via Wyoming), at an appropriately named pub in Hammersmith, The Salutation. She described our afternoon in delightful detail here; read that, look at her fun pictures, then come back.

She forgot to mention the issue of wind & falling umbrellas. We were nearly killed by this thing. (And the gent behind us was not amused with our reenactment for the photo op)

The Ivy:

After touring The Tower all of Wednesday morning, Stu & I made our way back to Covent Garden for lunch at "one of the most sought-after pieces of furniture in London." I was a little nervous because I didn't want to behave like the celebrity whore that I am seem out of place but we were instantly put at ease by the lovely older woman working the coat check. Because we didn't have jackets to give and she seemed so earnest about doing something for us, I was compelled to let her have my little shopping bag of Tower souvenirs [a move I will later regret]. We were five minutes early for our reservation (THIS I did plan ahead) and were greeted kindly by the maitre d' who told us it would be about 10-15 minutes before he could seat us. He offered a table in the lounge where no one famous was waiting. Not that I was looking.

We tried to get a glass of Riesling but it was only offered by the bottle [Have I mentioned that everything in Europe costs, oh, my annual salary? And the US dollar is worth about 5 cents]. I started to realize "10-15 minutes" was polite for "a very long time but thanks for making a reservation." But the waitstaff was extraordinarily kind - not the patronizing kindness that in the States means "I want your 20% tip and so will kiss your ass but really make fun of you in the kitchen." At least it didn't feel that way, and tips are actually not the custom in Europe. Finally, 40 minutes after our reservation time (and half an hour after lunch was technically over), we were given free drinks then shown to our table. Truly, I was impressed with their sincerity in apologizing for the lateness; I was dying to know who was hogging our spot all afternoon.

Our table was surprisingly not in a hidden corner, though Stu's chair was exactly under a very hot spotlight and somewhat in the path of all waitstaff passing by. But everyone continued to be polite & helpful (we needed to know what the hell "Bang bang Chicken" and "pork belly" were exactly), and the lady maitre d' gave me a copy of the menu when I asked if I could take a quick photo of it [no mobile phones or cameras are allowed in the restaurant]. I had left my camera in the souvenir bag anyway so alas, no pics of the marvelous bathroom suite.

After an hour & half (dinner was supposed to start seating within 30 minutes and there were plenty of parties looking nowhere near ready to leave; we were curious how the very polite staff would kick them out), we shared a Sticky Toffee Pudding then made our exit, a few pounds lighter (HA - economics joke).

It's fun to pretend you're somebody sometimes.

checking in

I have to make this fast because a) we're jacking free wi-fi in the lobby of a hotel that is not ours (the desk clerk keeps making pointed glances at us) and b) I forgot the plug adapter for our charger in the room of our hotel. Plus, oh yeah, I'm in LONDON so there are a few other things I want to do today...

But I love you for loving me, so I will post a couple of details that we have enjoyed so far.

1. Dragging three suitcases, a laptop, two backpacks and a toiletry bag from Heathrow to the city center, which in theory seems reasonable (we saved about $40 taking the tube instead of a shuttle van) but in practice? Let's just say London is a very "fend for yourself, ya pansy" kind of place. Lots of steep staircases and a few gaps to mind, not to mention the looks ranging from amusement to disdain that I tried not to notice on locals' faces.
2. Our rabbit warren of a hotel where, in order to get to our room, we take a narrow staircase up a floor, wander down a [narrow] hallway, take an [unbelievably narrow] elevator down a floor, then follow another [narrow? Why yes, I have gained weight...] hallway around a corner. There are a few fire doors in this journey as well. We're getting pretty quick at getting there & out again without issue, but I still find myself checking the brass plaques to make sure I'm headed to our room number.
3. Water pressure? Forgettaboutit. But it is running water, and it does get warm so I'm not really complaining.
4. Breakfast at the hotel offers a most heavenly muesli mixture (with WARM milk for it!), berries & fruits, warm baguettes and real butter. Kind of makes up for the winding wandering path to our room...

Okay, that will have to do for now. OH - I get to meet Holly today! She is driving into the city to MEET WITH ME! I am so fricking honored. So another reason I've got to go now (besides the increasingly agitated looks we're getting from the desk clerk).

Cheers!

who needs food with all this pretty architecture?

In the guise of Adventure Girl, I set out on my own in San Francisco last Sunday. Again, I did have a map, but [again] it did not actually reflect distance. For example, the areas identified in this map as Union Square/Chinatown/Nob Hill/North Beach don't SEEM to be, oh,

600 miles apart. They SEEM close, like just-around-the-corner neighborhoods. My calves, gluteus maximi, and laptop-toting shoulder beg to differ. (So you don't think I'm a complete moron, the map I used did have streets listed but still woefully lacked mileage info). The good news though - those Ed Hardy sneaks left not a single blister or bunion-burn.

My goals on this journey were to a) check out parts of SF that I hadn't seen before, b) get some exercise (HA!), and c) find a cute local diner/coffee shop/bakery/bistro/anything for lunch.

Here are the results; please enjoy, but also feel the burn a little, would ya?

Little did I know I should have taken the hot air balloon.

Buildings playing hide & seek at Union Square.

But wait! You should eat now, over there!

Pretty pretty Chanel boutique

Scary scary Ed Hardy boutique (but skulls can be fun!)

Another omen about flying instead of walking...

Entering Chinatown

Love the mix of old designs with tacky modern.

Off toward Nob Hill; not yet starving.

The noise from this Irish pub was impressive. At 11 a.m.

Mon dieu, I had no idea this would be my last chance at a sandwich before 3 p.m.

Perhaps another TURN BACK warning from the ghost of Dashiell Hammett?

I pray with the woman on the steps that we both find food soon.

Taking pictures of buildings distracts me from rising hunger.

I scale this hill on the power of one Mojo bar and a chai latte from two hours before.

Why am I the only one suffering a heart attack at this point?

I continued to walk and walk and walk in a fugue state. I kid you not, there were no fun little cafe-type stops along Washington OR Van Ness; maybe because it was Sunday or maybe they were invisible to my Muggle eye like Number 12 Grimmauld Place, but I could not find a single place to sit & eat that wasn't grimy and/or doubling as a gas station. Until...

How 1950s adorable will this be?!

Neverfuckingmind.

Going my way? NO.

In my calorie-deprived, exertion-induced stupor, I stopped at a terrace and looked up to realize the view. They have food at Alcatraz still?? But frick, I don't swim.

Unbelievably, I didn't feel like eating chocolate at that point. Clearly I was ill from the trek.


Yeah, yeah, love the bridge.


Bliss, at last.

All photos by me, the disgruntled tourist about the city, 2008