Waxing Nostalgic

Nanny, the Archer

It’s one of those days where I’m feeling a little melancholy. No, that’s not the word…pensive maybe? No…nostalgic. That’s it. 

Like most in our culture, I too-often run through my life so fast that I don’t take time to see what’s really going on around me. I’ve spent the last few years working on making this different, and I feel like I’ve recently reached a new level of “enlightenment” (for lack of a better term).  You might call it a mid-life-crisis or just waking up. Whatever you call it, it’s a place where I know – and I mean viscerally feel – that we only get one life. And I want to live it to the fullest. I want to be with each moment, be it good or bad. I want to experience it all. I want to be engaged and an active participant. 

Earlier this month, I went to Georgia for a visit with my 85-year old grandmother. It was a “I-know-I’m-making-memories-I’ll-never-forget” kind of trip. I flew into Atlanta and took the MARTA up to my sister’s house for the night, then got up the next morning for the short drive south to West Point, Georgia – the multi-generational hub of my mother’s family. Unlike most trips to visit family, I went alone. I met my grandmother, mom, aunt, niece and cousin there. It was a girls-weekend like I’d never had before. This weekend was about being together and recognizing that we are all a part of something bigger than ourselves; a part of a very special, very loving, very nurturing and long-surviving family. 

My grandmother (Nanny) can trace both sides of my mom’s family back many generations. Growing up, I had many special times with my Nanny looking through old photos, reading letters, thumbing through various “family bibles” (where important documents were kept in many families a long time ago, and in old-fashioned homes even today). Nanny would show me all the silver and china that has been collected over the generations from family and tell me about who owned them and how they were part of our family tapestry.  These pieces always appeared at family meals, a testament to those who came before us. It’s always been so meaningful to me to think of those people – long gone, but somehow with us in this way. At my home in Seattle today, I love to bring out pieces that have been passed down to me and use them whenever I can. In addition to being taught about the history of my family in Nanny’s home, she has spent time over the years showing me places in West Point and the surrounding areas that are important in our family history. Homes, churches, plots of land and historical landmarks like Fort Tyler. 

But this time was different. I think because I am at a place in my life where I “get it.” I get that I have this long history, and I get that it is much bigger than me – or any individual for that matter. In a big way, our family is our mark on the world. It is how we share what we know and who we are, and pass it down. It is our true legacy and our real chance at immortality. 

I had the truly unforgettable opportunity while in West Point to spend some one-on-one time with Nanny, asking her about her experiences in life – she shared things I had never known before. It was such a treasure to see the light in her eyes and to know that the memories she made 65 years ago are still bright and alive in her. 

And how do these memories get made and last an entire lifetime? Memories cannot be made when you are not present. If you wonder when you are living in the moment, just ask – do I remember details about what happened in the last hour (other than e-mails and texts and tweets)? If you don’t, you’re not in the moment! And, I’ve realized that I won’t have any memories if I am not intentional about being there – wherever there is. 

This trip to West Point has reconnected me to my family and life in a renewed way. I realize that in order to move intentionally and fully forward with my future, this includes embracing and remembering my roots. To do this more fully, I’ve decided to make several visits back to West Point over the next year to write Nanny’s life story. And through her, see what more I can be experiencing, learning and loving in my own life. 

Nanny – and those before her – have given me a legacy I am proud to be a part of. It includes kindness and compassion. It includes doing things for others before yourself. It includes connection and community and laughter and gratitude and joy. I am so happy to be a part of this legacy and to be able to own it, add to it and continue it in my own way. 

Thank you to Nanny and to all my family, who I love dearly and would not be “me” without. Life is precious.

Oh Canada, Part I

  

Looking North over terrain and Lake Osoyoos

I admit it. I’m a little obsessed with Canada – or at least British Columbia. We just got back from a 5-day stay in beautiful Osoyoos in the South Okanagan Valley. 

While contemplating a trip to Kelowna, I stumbled on Osoyoos – and more specifically, a little slice of heaven called Spirit Ridge. A year and four visits later, I find myself longing to go back all*the*time. I really can’t stop thinking about it. Why is it so great? 

1) Osoyoos is just five hours from Seattle (more or less, depending on your route and number of stops). 

2) It is truly another world. The terrain is high desert, mountainous and scattered with sagebrush and very few trees. 

3) There are numerous fantastic wineries in the area. 

4) There are great restaurants and accommodations. 

5) The people are very friendly (and I’ve found this to be true everywhere I’ve gone in Canada). 

For me, these add up to be the perfect vacation. 

The BC tourist bureau bills the South Okanogan valley “the Napa of the North,” and I see why. I love Napa, but it’s a flight away, so commercialized and a big financial investment. From May through September, Osoyoos is an oasis. The first time I went (May 2009), it was in the high 80’s. The place is different enough from the wet and lush environment of Seattle to conjure images of California, Arizona and even Mexico. If I closed my eyes, I could be sitting by a pool on the Baja Peninsula – and when I opened them and looked across the vineyards and down toward Lake Osoyoos and finally rested my gaze on the mountains, I felt this was somehow much better. Or at least very different. What’s more, despite being just 5 miles over the US/Canada border, we ran into only one other American couple while there, adding to the different-from-the-everyday feel of the locale. 

I really can’t go any further without detailing Spirit Ridge a bit. Typically, a specific resort doesn’t matter much to me, but here it’s critical. The geniuses behind Spirit Ridge put it on a plateau above Lake Osoyoos. They then partnered with the award-winning NK’MIP winery. NK’MIP’s vineyards surround the resort so when you look out, you are looking over the vineyards and down to the lake. The resort buildings are in groups, all low profile. The architecture is adobe-style, and the resort is adorned with sculptures and statues depicting First People warriors. It is very harmonious with the environment, and the affect is nothing short of stunning. The units are one to three bedrooms and equipped with full kitchens. The buildings have quiet rooftop decks to take in the jaw-dropping 360 degree views. Other perks of the resort are two large heated pools (one overlooking the vineyards), two hot tubs, steam room, full-service spa, fitness center, view decks from most rooms and a first-class, gourmet restaurant, Passa Tempo. There are numerous trails and private lake access for those in an adventurous mood. And if you’re an athlete seeking more than what the fitness center offers, this is where many Canadians train for the Iron Man, so it’s easy to be inspired to take long runs and bike rides through the area. 

When the weather is perfect – and it wasn’t on our most recent trip – it is difficult to pull away from the resort. I’m a sun-lover and despite the peril it poses to my health, basking in the sun by a pool for hours with a good book is a past-time I never tire of. Top that off with poolside service (or bring your own bottle of wine or beverage of choice down and serve yourself) and the reasons to stay quickly outweigh the reasons to leave. 

When I can tear myself away, it is worth the effort. There are quite a few great wineries within a 10-mile radius and for those wanting a drive, if you keep going north to Kelowna, even more await. Within 15 minutes of Spirit Ridge, you can sample results from some of the region’s best winemakers. In the South Okanagan, the whites and roses truly shine. Several wineries produce great Pinot Gris and Pinot Blanc. I found the roses delicious, with most made in the French style – light, dry, crisp and refreshing. All of the above are great to take back to the resort to sip by the pool or on your deck. Favorite wineries on the most recent trip were Black Hills, Stoneboat, Burrowing Owl (great restaurant and beautiful vineyards here too) and Le Vieux Pin. A little further north, and worth the drive, is Blasted Church. 

And the food. I mentioned Passa Tempo, the restaurant at the resort. The chef makes delectable food and everything they serve is sourced from within 100 miles of the resort. From charcuterie to grilled romaine to lobster and pea risotto to panna cotta and of course, wine. First class all the way. If cooking in your room (which is easy to do because the kitchens are very well-equipped) plan to shop in the farmers’ markets (Pam’s is my favorite – she makes all the jams, pickles and compotes in her roadside shop). Bring all your spices, oils, etc. There is not a first-class market in this town and what you can get is very, very expensive. 

Finally, what makes my love for Canada complete is the consistent warmth and authenticity of the people. There was not a day that I didn’t make a new friend, and most days, several. Servers – in wineries, restaurants, and even the grocery store – are warm, genuine and quick to smile and offer advice. 

So, for now I will hold Osoyoos in my thoughts and dreams and placate myself with one of the many bottles of wine I brought back. But it won’t be long…I’m planning my next trip for late August.

Ode to Don Draper and Entertainers of Years Past

Last night, we hosted friends for a “Mad Men” dinner party. The party didn’t really come as a result of wanting to do a “Mad Men” party, but rather the desire to make “old-fashioned” food. It all started with the idea to make beef wellington. Then, shrimp cocktail – really good shrimp cocktail – came next. Visions of Don Draper, cigarettes and Manhattans soon followed.

I spent all day Saturday polishing silver, cleaning and setting the table. I love getting ready for parties. One of my favorite things about entertaining – aside from the planning, yes I really do love it – is thinking about the time ahead. Who will be there, what will it be like and how can I do my best to create an ideal environment for us all to get the most out of our time together. I’ve come to the conclusion that I show people I care by doing things for them. Entertaining is an extension of that.

So, back to polishing silver. Not something many people do much of these days, I’m sure. For me, this is also a pleasure. Most of the pieces I own have been in my family for generations. When I pull out the silver to share with our friends, I feel as though generations of my family are there with us. Particularly my grandmother (Nanny) and grandfather (Dadaddy) from Georgia. You see, I learned all of this from Dadaddy.

When I was probably two, Dadaddy taught me how to properly set a multi-piece place setting complete with real silver, china and crystal. We also spent time contemplating the centerpiece and cutting flowers and greenery from the yard. These are such treasured memories.

I got my entire idea of entertaining, hosting and desire to do so from my sweet Georgia grandparents. Every time we visited, our beds were magically turned down between dinner and bed time. Every detail was attended to. I always felt special and wanted. This is how I want people in my life to feel when they come to our home.

How does this relate to Don Draper and Mad Men? My grandparents were in their hey-day of entertaining in the 60’s. It’s only fitting that last night’s special time with friends epitomized that time. We have dinner parties a lot and love them. Something about last night’s party, however, was different. The girls dressed in vintage dresses. I donned a ruffly apron, pearls and heels. The gents easily slid into the role of making Gin Rickeys and Old Fashions. Everything was easy and fun. The menu:

• Gin Rickeys & Old Fashions
• Duck Liver Pate
• Shrimp Cocktail
• Salad
• Beef Wellington and Asparagus with Hollandaise
• Banana Cream Pie

While the food exemplified the 1960’s, the workload did not. It was a team effort – we all pitched in. And we loved prancing around in heels (the girls) and shaking up cocktails and cracking dirty jokes (the boys). We bonded over it all. I like that we’ve been able to take the best of then, mix in the best of now and turn it into an unforgettable and very special time.

Thanks to my family for instilling in me the love of preparing good food and the art of sharing it with those you love. Dadaddy, the camellias in the silver bowl were for you.

Boudin Noir de Paris

View from our Paris apartment

I’m currently reading Tara Austen-Weaver’s The Butcher and the Vegetarian, her memoir about her foray into meat-eating after a lifetime of vegetarianism. This morning I read a passage about her romance with charcuterie which began with a visit to The Fatted Calf at San Francisco’s ferry terminal. Not only did she fall in love with the stuff but went behind the scenes to observe the making of Boudin Noir (blood sausage). She also went back to the market later to purchase some links to cook and consume. 

While I grew up eating Louisiana-style Boudin, I only recently sampled Boudin Noir – and it was by mistake. Or, more accurately, ignorance. 

I had the joy of going to Paris just a few months ago.  After having been to Paris several times, we made a pact to have this trip be about nothing more than food and wine and soaking up the culture of the city. On our first full day in the city – while we were still rubbing the jetlag out of our eyes – we ventured over to the the 11^th arrondisement to Le Bistrot Paul Bert. We’d read and heard great things and couldn’t wait. However, one look at the menu told us our “conversational French” wasn’t going to get us very far. But – a ray of hope! Boudin was on the menu! I confidently declared “I grew up eating Boudin, I’ll have that!” So, with a carafe of house wine and a delectable housemade pate, I awaited what I thought would be a spicy sausage of pork, rice and vegetables, similar to what I’d had dozens of time in New Orleans. 

When le plat principal arrived, I was face-to-face with a gigantic, black link. Hmmm. I was starting to be very glad I’d had two glasses of wine. 

Of course I did what any American-who-doesn’t-want-to-look-like-an-American would do. I said “merci,” took a sip of wine, smoothed out the napkin in my lap and picked up my knife and fork. The second I touched the tip of the knife to the sausage, it , well, opened up. Inside was a black kind of mush. I timidly tucked in. It didn’t taste bad, but weird. Definitely a flavor I was not used to. Iron-y, mineral-ly and how you might expect blood to taste. I gamely ate about half the sausage before resigning myself to the delicious buttery potatoes. 

In The Butcher and the Vegetarian, Tara hints to a similar experience with the Boudin Noir she cooked for herself. When she sat down to eat it, she describes how the sausage erupted – and responded by throwing it in the freezer. 

Tara, I understand. Cheers to you for giving it a go. Even for a lifetime meat eater, Boudin Noir can be a challenge.

Bed & Book-fest at Skamania Lodge

Today I am off for an overnight at Skamania Lodge at the Columbia River Gorge for their Bed & Book-fest series. The first event in the series will feature Kathleen Flinn, author of The Sharper the Knife, the Less You Cry. 

This is the launch event, and I’m excited for several reasons: 1) I’ve been working on this series with Kim Ricketts Book Events and looking forward to it for months, 2) Kathleen Flinn is one of my favorite authors, chefs and people of all time and 3) my Mississippi Mama is joining me!

Skamania Lodge has put together something really special with this series. It’s a unique opportunity to connect in a new way with authors. Each event will not only feature a signing and reading with the author but an experience led by the author. For instance, at this event, Kathleen is leading a four-course cooking demonstration followed by lunch. Yum!

Here are the details about the series. Please join us for an upcoming event.

Skamania Lodge, an all-season mountain resort in the Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area, announces Bed & Book-fest, a new literary series that gives book worms an opportunity to getaway for exclusive interactive experiences with writers from the Pacific Northwest. The series will feature five author hosted weekends in 2010, and launches with Kathleen Flinn, the bestselling author of “The Sharper the Knife, the Less You Cry,” on February 19 & 20.

Skamania Lodge’s Bed & Book-fest series will be held on select weekends throughout the year including:

Friday, February 19 – Saturday, February 20, 2010

Kathleen Flinn  

Author of the memoir “The Sharper the Knife, the Less You Cry”, a bestseller that is currently being made into a feature film.  Her book describes leaving corporate America for Paris to fulfill her dream of becoming a chef by studying at Le Cordon Bleu.  Flinn currently splits her time between Seattle and Florida and is working on two new books.

 Saturday, March 13 – Sunday, March 14, 2010

Jennifer Worick

Author of “Backcountry Betty: Crafting with Style and Natural Objects”.  She has written or co-authored more than 20 books, including the New York Times bestseller, “The Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook: Dating & Sex”.  Worick currently resides in Seattle and is the Seattle reporter for Allure.  

Saturday, March 27 & Sunday, March 28

Children’s writer, TBA 

July or August 2010

Children’s writer, TBA 

Friday, August 27 – Saturday, August 28

Langdon Cook

Author of the Northwest adventure and food book “The Fat of the Land: Adventures of a 21^st Century Forager”.  His book’s blog was named Seattle Weekly’s Best Local Food Blog of 2009.  Cook lives in Seattle and enjoys exploring the Northwest’s natural wild edibles. 

About Skamania Lodge

Surrounded by the waterfalls, peaks, forests and canyons of the Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area, Skamania Lodge is an all-season mountain resort and conference center, situated on 175 acres, 50 minutes east of Portland, Ore., in Stevenson, Wash.  With 254 guest rooms and a 22,000-square foot, International Association of Conference Centers (IACC) approved conference center, Skamania Lodge offers a destination for outdoor enthusiasts and groups.  Skamania boasts the Waterleaf Spa, indoor swimming pool and whirlpools, a fitness center, onsite hiking, an 18-hole par-70 Golf Course that earned a four-star rating from Golf Digest magazine in their “Best Places to Play” for 2008, the Cascade Room, River Rock Lounge and the U.S. Forest Service Information Center located in the lobby.  Skamania Lodge is centered in a Pacific Northwest playground with hiking, biking and Sternwheeler cruises along the Columbia River in the summer; skiing and snowshoeing in the winter; and golfing, fishing and whitewater rafting all year long for outdoor enthusiasts.  Skamania Lodge is a spectacular location to soak in the natural beauty and to enjoy a vast array of outdoor activities. www.skamania.com.

Mississippi Mama

My mother is here visiting from Mississippi. We are doing what we love to do when we’re together – shop at the markets, plan menus and cook! I’ve convinced her to host a Mardi Gras-themed dinner for us and some friends tomorrow night. On the menu: grillades (a Creole dish featuring veal in a thick gravy), grits, black-eyed peas, collard greens, King Cake – straight from Gambino’s Bakery in New Orleans – and Hurricanes. Oh, and don’t forget the handmade lard biscuits.

So, why the Creole focus?

I grew up in Southwest Mississippi, just 15 miles from the Louisiana border in a town whose claim to fame is that Britney Spears went to high school there. Special occasions in my family included trips over the Louisiana border, across Lake Ponchartrain through the swamp to the mysterious metropolis of New Orleans. Many of these trips were made very early in the morning where we’d stroll along the River Walk before the city got started, drink café au lait and eat crispy-melty-powdered-sugar-coated beignets at Café du Monde.

One of my most treasured memories in the Big Easy was with my dad. For my sixteenth birthday he took me to my first really fancy meal as “an adult.” At least I felt like an adult because he let me sip a glass of wine and no one even asked my age. The restaurant was Arnaud’s and I ate asparagus with a creamy hollandaise as I casually sipped my red wine, trying hard not to belie my age.

Also, New Orleans – and Louisiana – represent many good times with friends. When I was in high school, the drinking age in Louisiana was just 18 and if you looked close to it that was good enough. Many trips were made across the border to Kentwood, Louisiana on Saturday afternoons.

And what about Mardi Gras? I never went to New Orleans for Mardi Gras until I was in college, and even for me – an ever-fun-loving type of girl – it was too much. The city I cherished was transformed from a sultry, mysterious place to a raunchy melee of excess, where completely uncool, and sometimes downright scary, people roamed the streets and pillaged the city. Bear in mind that this comes from a girl who was never invited to the upper balconies of Bourbon Street or the glamorous balls of exotic Krewes. Surely, if I had been, my thoughts would be different.

Now, hundreds of miles from New Orleans, I feel content to celebrate Mardi Gras with close friends and family and remember the things that I love about New Orleans and the Creole ways. Listening to Zydeco, sipping a Hurricane and cooking and eating good food.

Escaping the Everyday

Escaping to Victoria

This weekend, I had the joy of leaving my everyday life behind in Seattle on the wings of a seaplane and escaped to the near-away land of Victoria, BC. It was just far enough and the plane ride just exotic enough that I was able to really “get away.” Sometimes, even a long vacation can seem as though I never left, particularly with my Blackberry close at hand. My 28 hours in Victoria gave me a moment of clarity, one of those rare oppotunities to take stock of life and where I am in it. I started thinking that sometimes I just take life, and myself, way too seriously.

This blog is my way of reminding myself that life really doesn’t have to be so serious. My new mission is to Quit Taking It So Seriously and celebrate things I think are fun to me: food, drink, entertaining, traveling.

Salut!