Nine Years Ago Today...

was the happiest day of my life.  No, I'm not just that into Flag Day, although it's a worthy enough holiday.  On this day in 2003, my hubby and I tied the knot.  Ever since then, we've been together making our dreams come true.

We've had some ups and downs through our years together, but one thing has remained constant.  Our relationship has always been a joy, a safe harbor, a delight.  We've worked together to be closer all the time,  we've (so far) survived the initial years of parenting, we've laughed at the same weird things for years now.  You've put up with my lame puns and corny humor; I've learned to appreciate the joys of college football.  This give and take of marriage is wonderful stuff...a safe place to learn, grow and love.  A sense of 'home' personified into a rewarding relationship.

This past year in particular has shown me that no matter what difficulties arise, we'll be okay.  We can stick together and brave whatever storms arise (including surgeries!).  I'm so excited to see what is coming up for us both.

Thank you, Andy for being the man I love!

The Real Story of Cincinnati Chili, Part 4

Let's brush up, shall we?  Here is the link for Part 3.


We last left Hannistina rushing home from the BonMuffin Bakery...rushing from the short, bald man who sighed and dreamed over her next culinary disaster.  Poor Dudley!


So anyway...


Hannistina hurried from the cold, brisk evening into the warm kitchen.  She wrinkled her delicate nose.  The smoke still hung in the air and tainted the ambiance with the smell of imperfection.  She quickly set the table with the succulent offerings and whisked away her canvas tote into the back bedroom.  She was not a moment too soon, because there came a knock from the front door that sent shivers down her spine.  Hannistina hurried to the front door, pausing only long enough to glance in the hall mirror and see her cheeks glowing and eyes sparkling from the excitement.  She grandly opened the front door with a flourish, but the sight at her front door took her breath away.

Hannistina smiled slightly and asked, "May I help you?".

"Yes.  I am Georgio Ghiradelli.  I am looking for Miss Hannistina Hershey.  Is she here?".

"Please come in.  I've been so looking forward to meeting you."  Hannistina recovered from her shock as she stepped back and motioned him in.  She realized that he was standing in his coat and hat and remembered to offer to take them.  Her eyes widened as he took off his hat.  His hair was even redder than it had first appeared when she had first laid eyes on him!

Georgio laughed a loud, abrasive laugh.  "Most people expect me to be the tall, dark and handsome man that my name implies.  I understand the shock.  I hope the disappointment doesn't ruin our evening!".

Hannistina flushed with shame.  How could this presumptuous man read her mind?

"I am so sorry, " she replied.  "I did not mean to offend you.  I just..."

He interrupted, "Your house is filled with a mixture of smells."  His face scrunched as he worked to sort the smells in his mind.  Without any prompting from Hannistina, Georgio followed the mixture of scents wafting from the kitchen.

"I have a nose that knows food smells, some even call me the 'savant of scents', but this is a combination that I have never before encountered."  Hannistina followed him meekly, knowing that she did not want to explain.  Maybe he would let it go.  Before she entered the kitchen, her heart was struck with horror as her eyes went from the beautiful tablescape to her stove top.  She spied the large pot of chili on the back burner, still simmering!

"Ah, what have we here? A ragout, of course.  You must taste mine...".  His voice died away as he discovered the true contents of the pot.  "Oh, yes, of course.  You Americans rank supreme in the making of meals such as this.  One pot wonder, no doubt.  The only thing I wonder is how a person of taste can enjoy something so very homespun."  He said the word 'homespun' as if it were a curse word.

Irrational though it may be, Hannistina instantly began defending her chocolate-laced chili, which she had been more than willing to wish out of existence the moment before.  Hot words spewed back and forth, hers praising the simple cook with soul, his praising the extraordinary ingredient.    The result was this mutual ultimatum...each would try the other's fare and critique it in light of their extremely high culinary principles.  Hannistina retrieved a fresh spoon from her immaculate silverware drawer and scooped a sample of the fateful chili, making sure to give the spoon a dramatic swish to highlight her 'soulful' creation.

Georgio tasted, tasted again, then rested his features into an arrogant smirk. (the beast!)

I am fairly certain these were in my dream last night...along with fried chicken.  Don't ask...it's a pregnancy thing.

"You call that a masterpiece?  You have no idea to what heights a truly fresh, high quality product can carry you..."  His speech lasted for eight more minutes, despite her ferocious staring.  At last, he daintily put on his white silk gloves, retrieved his refrigerated briefcase and began to open.  Hannistina caught a glimpse of her heart's true desire...truffles, truffles, and more truffles.  Each truffle was enclosed in its own temperature-controlled plastic compartment inside the briefcase, so as to be absolutely perfect for the lucky taster.  A small hiss of air escaped as Georgio opened the case of a dark chocolate confection.  With white-gloved hand he cautiously picked up the tender morsel, fanning it lightly with his spare hand.  The aroma of the chocolate brought goosebumps all over her Hershey's kiss-gorged body.  She took a bite.  Somewhere in the distance she was sure she heard strings crooning out their romantic melody.  She closed her eyes...

Grandkids Are Worth It!

    Here's another poem by my Mom!                     

When families stayed close, get-togethers were no trouble,

But modern times force grandma to be a new kind of noble.

Life in the fast lane requires grandfolks to be mobile.

But grandkids are worth it!

If you haven't seen grandkids for many months,

If they're homesick for you, don't be a dunce.

Hop in your car, no matter the distance.

Natalie is worth it!

Don't sit around and whine for them, or pout.

It's just ridiculous for you to go without.

Once you're there, they'll meet you at the door with a shout!

And Jamie is worth it!

If the place where they live is very, very far,

Be thankful that someone invented the car.

Traveling, for grandparents, is now only par.

But Katherine is worth it!

If it's been so long you are going berserk,

Be grateful you no longer have to work.

Get a move on - a grandchild-fix is a wonderful perk.

Cara is certainly worth it!

If you miss your family even a little tad,

Don't mope around, increasingly sad.

Be glad these days it's not bad to gad.

And Scott is definitely worth it!

Your kids far away don't mean to deprive.

They figure you're up to a day or two drive.

You don't have to beg, or wheedle, or connive.

Because Andrew is worth it!

If you're feeling as bored as a stationary plant

And you MUST have a visit, and they obviously can't,

Hallelujah that modern grandparents gallivant!

You know Allison is worth it!

If your husband tells you you are losing your grip,

I'd advise a long journey at double-time clip.

What you need is a grandbaby-withdrawal trip.

Titus is totally worth it!

If you're suddenly informed there will be a new baby,

You'd better get moving, wherever they may be.

Go see 'em right now! And I don't mean maybe!

Baby Reeder is worth it!

If they've all gone so fast, you don't know which way they went,

And it won't be enough if a picture fax is sent,

Just don't drive so fast you get into an accident!

Jozef is worth it!

Lonesomeness is something you needn't reconcile.

Even though the trip may take quite a while,

They'll be cheering for you as you fly mile by mile.

Amos is worth it!

If you find yourself at some point nestless,

And your days and hours are exceedingly restless,

Drive on till their house just over the crest is.

Hannah is worth it!

If your days drag on in silent desperation,

Think of the kids - there's no better motivation.

Get packed and press on to your eastern destination.

Nicole is worth it!

If you just have to hug and squeeze your little pixie,

Your children won't have the heart to say nix, see?

A visit is great medicine, and I ain't whistlin' Dixie!

Scott is worth it!

If the pictures galore are just not enough comfort,

And you or they need a childlike cavort,

Get your husband and fly, walk, drive, or transport.

Michelle is worth it!

If your spouse is becoming morbidly terse,

Or you're thinking the quietness can't possibly be worse,

Then the miles between kids and you, you must quickly traverse.

Sarah is worth it!

Even if they're busy, it's all right to inquisite.

It's not as if you're asking the moon, is it?

Please, please, please may we come for a visit?

And Andy is worth it!

Wherever your kids and grandkids call home,

Whether you must drive to Tallahassee or Nome,

Grab your toothbrush, coffee cup, and comb,

And take off! Grannies today have to roam!

And family is worth it!

The Real Story of Cincinnati Chili, Part 3

To catch up on the first two installments, click here:  Part 1    Part 2

If one installment is all you can stand at a time, read on...  Hannistina was just screaming to herself....




"My lovely dinner is ruined! Oh what shall I do?".

The answer was obvious.  This was not the first time she had been in this sort of dilemma.  Her salvation was just across the street at Dudley BonMuffin's Bakery and Catering.  She squelched a pang of guilt as she stuffed three pieces of Great Grandmother's heirloom Le Creuset bakeware into a large canvas tote bag.  "Just once more and never again." she firmly resolved.

A small bell jingled as Hannistina entered the bakery.  Dudley BonMuffin looked up as he drizzled chocolate sauce over a fresh batch of profiteroles.  His pulse quickened.

"Can I help you Miss Hershey?"  His greeting was anything but rote.  There was a tender eagerness that washed over her unnoticed.  If she had taken a careful look at Dudley, she might have noticed what tender, sensitive eyes were set in his plump, bald head.    But she was always in a hurry.  Always in a predicament.  This fact did not bother Dudley.  She was his damsel in distress.  Fixing her culinary nightmares was the stuff of his finest dreams.

Yes, that is Dudley there on the left, sitting forlornly.  <<sigh>>

She chose zucchini vichyssoise to start.  Dudley ladled it into one of the dishes.  Next the entree: roast duck with haricots verts.  He placed the duck quite carefully so no one would ever guess that it had not been there to start with, then he arranged the haricots verts all around.  A perfect light dinner so there would be plenty of room for dessert.  Dudley's specialty was tiramisu.  He offered Hannistina a full chilled bowl from the walk-in.  Of course she could take his glass dish home.  Of course she could use some of his insulated carrying cases for the hot dishes.

"Miss Hershey, I would be honored to escort you home."

"That's not necessary, but thank you, Mr. BonMuffin." she said cooly.  She glanced down at him briefly and noticed only that he was nearly a foot shorter than herself.  Alas!  She noticed nothing of his noble heart!  The bell jingled and all too soon she was gone.  Dudley heaved a heavy sigh.

To be continued...try not to bite your fingernails clear off in your anticipation!

My New Cooking Philosophy

This may seem totally unrelated to my usual topics on this blog, but it was a great quote that really shows my new cooking philosophy.

"Recipes are just road maps, they're not contracts."


--Chef Michael Voltaggio


That is so true...at least after you figure out what you're doing.  For baking, there really is nothing like following a recipe, but I find that with everything else, I use recipes for inspiration, then throw them to the side.  I guess that's when you start to write a food blog!

Early Thoughts On Tee-Ball

We are officially a few weeks into the tee-ball season, and I'm finding that we're enjoying the whole experience...especially Scott and Andy, of course.  Despite the back surgery pain and fatigue, Andy is faithfully attending games and, being braver than wimpy Mom, is still able to pitch real tee-balls to help Scott practice.  (There's just something about  the image of a  strongly hit tee-ball screaming to the face or pregnant belly that scares me.  Or maybe it's just that I'm a wimp.  Not quite sure.)

Anyway, after analyzing Scott's amazing team in action quite a lot, I've come up to a conclusion about tee-ball. It is not a regular sport.  It is actually a strange hybrid of three sports...baseball, tackle football, and bowling.

The ball is struck first by a grinning boy who is wearing a helmet far too large for his head/body proportion.  This is usually done after a lot of coachly adjusting, many swing attempts, and lots of pro baseball player pre-swing imitations.  The ball flies taps out into the infield full of players, at which point the sport turns into tackle football.  Nearly all of the fielders (seems to be about everyone except Scott who thinks he's an umpire) runs toward the ball.  Instead of catching or stopping the ball, the natural reaction is to manfully tackle it to get it to stop.  Imagine all twelve, er, eleven boys doing this at once, and you can see where the bowling starts.  Despite their self-sacrificing moves of agility, somehow the ball escapes unscathed while the boys drop like bowling pins.  It brings a whole new meaning to the word 'strike'.  Sometimes the game takes on the feeling of dominoes as well, but only with base runners.  They hardly ever ALL remember to run.  They end up being piled up somewhere around third base where they each in turn hit and knock each other over in a pretty orderly and predictable manner.  Curious.

After all these antics, the game reverts back to being like baseball.  The boys just have to slide home and after scoring, they humbly saunter back to the bench, or out to the stands to jump and see how proud Mom and Dad are of them.  I suppose Joey Votto doesn't really do that, but he probably did once upon a time.

All in all it's been a lot of fun so far.  You almost hate to see them improve in their skills, because it's just so much fun to watch them like this!

The Little Laundry Maid

I thought it was about time to give an update on Hurricane Allison.  Last I posted about her, I was in a state of severe trauma while I adjusted to her new-found mischief-making prowess.  Don't get me wrong, there is something special about her amazing ability to find trouble, discreetly involve herself in trouble, carry out the trouble in silence, then try not to laugh in your face when you discover the trouble.  This age is always a heavy training time for children in our household.  We tend to have a terrible one's more than a terrible two's around here, but finally the training and the growing is starting to pay off.

What is it about this picture that my Dad loves so much?!?

While she is still an exceptional mischief-maker, there is a real sweetness beginning to develop in her.  She tries her best to help and is so proud of herself!  She's my right-hand girl.  She's not useful in the true sense of the word, but she's always there, always trying to please, always helping as much as she can.  It's such a fun age of discovery.  She's discovered dishes...she can put away pots and pans, as well as cutting boards.  She's discovered the laundry.  Any washing or folding is way too neatly done without her presence, not to mention the fun of watching her parade around with various unmentionables draped around her neck.  (Clean, I hasten to add, lest I lose my readership in disgust.)

It's so exciting to see your baby grow and learn and be a help.  Of course there will be messes and shocks (like her alarming habit of stripping down during naptime and climbing on top of Cara's dresser), but the sweet fellowship has begun to form a new joy of knowing my curly-haired trouble maker.