Thursday Things

  1. What is kindness to you? For me it’s “please” and “thank you” and offering a cup of coffee and being open and honest. And so much more. Kindness is a lot like loving, isn’t it?
  2. The new reboot of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy is giving me all the feels. It’s funny and full of heart.
  3. I’m nearly at the end of Gilmore Guys so I’m beginning the hunt for a new podcast. So far Pop Rocket and Dear Hank and John are the front runners.
  4. My friend Danielle will be here next week and we are going to the Lorde concert in MKE and that may be the best impulse decision I’ve made in awhile.
  5. Tbh, I didn’t even know Lorde was the headliner. I initially was just wanting to see Run The Jewels. Lorde was really just a bonus.
  6. We are also doing the Pabst brewery tour because her favorite beer is PBR and my friends are just the classiest.
  7. Tuesday night I went to a dinner party and had the best time! It was a make-your-own Bahn Mi situation and I was in heaven. There were also cilantro mint mojitos and rice noodle and shrimp spring rolls. Again – heaven.
  8. It was also my first encounter with Curtido – a South American style fermented cabbage that’s a lot like kimchi. But full of coriander and oregano. It was so good I could sing. And no one wants that.
  9. Buuuuuuut, speaking of singing – I revisited Drinking From A Salt Pond this week by RRN. Alex has a killer voice. And is a gifted lyricist. Give ’em a listen!

PB&J Scones, Two Ways (& preferences)

Serious question time.

Do you prefer your PB&J with grape jelly and creamy peanut butter or strawberry jam and crunchy peanut butter?

If I’m being totally honest I would go with grape jelly and creamy peanut butter. On whole wheat bread.

I know not everyone is in that camp. This is a point that has been hotly contested amongst my friends many a time.

The last time I got into this discussion, I was at Bunny’s house. She made Nick and I some PB&Js before Royal Rumble started and honestly, that’s one of my favorite memories from my visit to Greenville. There’s something perfectly comforting about a good peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Especially when it’s made by someone you love.

Nick had never been to Bunny’s house and it was my first time back there on my trip. It was drizzling outside, Bunny’s place was warm as it always was. One of the first things she did upon our arrival was offer us some snacks. She got down to the task of making us sandwiches while Nick walked around her house in wonder. I had done it too on my first visit. Bunny and her husband, Justin, have curated and cultivated a beautiful space. One totally their own and entirely representative of who they are and what they love. There are prints and pictures and Pyrex in every corner. The walls are striped and the ceilings painted bright colors.

Nick and I sat with our food while Bunny bustled around in the kitchen – preparing for the Royal Rumble party. I reclined into my vintage loveseat, now at home in their sitting room, Nick across from me on an old church pew. The coffee table between us held stacks of books and comics and candles and records. Bruno and Lulu, Bunny and Justin’s teacup Yorkies, ran around underfoot. We talked and chewed, took everything in as the rain fell outside.

I wanted to recreate that moment with these scones – warm and comforting, and full of familiar, well-loved flavors. Whatever your preference, grape or strawberry, crunchy or creamy, I think we can all agree that the result is delicious.

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Coconut Icebox Cake (& light)

Crossing the state line was like passing through a filter. Everything became a little more golden, the edges softer. If I hadn’t recognized the light, the way the winter sun shined down on the road, I would’ve thought the lack of sleep and excessive time alone had finally taken it’s toll on my addled brain.

But I knew this light. I had seen it before. For years. It was dusk in South Carolina. Wintertime.

I breathed in deep.

The next morning I rose before the sun, the closed blinds in my room producing a whisper of silvery light. Dawn was coming. I watched it appear over the fields of my family’s farm. The start of my first day back. I knew exactly where to begin, too.

I parked my car in its usual place – un-shaded and exposed, guaranteed to warm up inside. The asphalt was already absorbing the heat, the light.

I forced myself to pass the back door. I wasn’t an employee anymore, this entrance wasn’t mine. Instead, I went in through the coffee shop. A regular customer.

“What’re you doing here?” Katie asked, both enthusiastic and incredulous as only she can be. I hugged her tight, tears welling up, my heart in my throat, unable to answer her question.

I saw a flash of blue-blonde hair out the corner of my eye, seconds later a gentle tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Jen, beaming – she knew I was coming, the only one who’d been aware I’d appear that afternoon. She enveloped me in a hug with her long arms. The tears spilled over as we spun.

The spinning ended and I faced the kitchen. Kris stood there, behind the gleaming prep table. He gave me a happy pout, a fake-frown transforming into a smile, and headed down the hall toward me. Now the tears were flowing more than falling. My shoulders shook, heaving sobs as we embraced.

Collecting myself, I went to order coffee. I let the familiar sounds wash over me – the steaming milk, the keyboard clatters, Lindsey and Callie’s sweet voices. I leaned against the coffee bar – cool cement in contrast with soft wood – the color of honey.

I sensed Alex before I saw him, turned to see him standing behind me in the doorway. One step, two steps to close the gap.

We hugged.

I breathed in deep.

“How’re you doing?” he asked.

“Better now.”

No tears.

Instead light. Lightness in his presence, in being back at GB&D, being home.

“So…uhh…I don’t know what your plans are while you’re here, but…do you want to make some desserts?”

Nothing would make me happier.

That decided, I took up residence at the corner table. Alex’s favorite spot. The place we had my interview.

Surrounded on both sides by windows it had the best view of the goings on both in and out of the restaurant. The afternoon sun slanted in through the panes, the décor seemingly picked out to compliment the rays – copper and plants and brick absorbing and reflecting in just the right way. The room itself hugged me, putting me at ease. The line grew, shrank, grew. I watched Jen. Alex. Kris. Katie. I cried. I ate the best burger I’d had in months.

In the morning, I returned, ready to work. But my station wasn’t where it used to be. A lot had changed in six months. Remodeling, rearranging. Alex’s quest for the perfectly situated kitchen never quite accomplished.

I found the mixer in the Annex (named after Toby’s haunt in The Office), set it up on top of the new freezer, collected the ingredients and myself. The freshly painted walls glowed white-blue under the fluorescent lights. At the right angle, I could make out the paint drips from the old mural that lay underneath – round faces with even rounder eyes. My nerves bounced around all the silver and steel in the room.

Muscle memory and music overtook my senses. It took some getting used to – new things in new places, old things long discarded. After a few starts and stutters (and a loan of coconut milk from Kris), I had assembled my coconut icebox cake – a guaranteed crowd pleaser.

Dinner service that night was like I’d never experienced. The switch to table service had made all the difference. The pendant lamps glowed softly, warmth in the winter night, the din of diners never rising above the dim light – a constant measure of contentment.

The icebox cake sold out by Saturday night. Despite the abundance of short ribs and fried biscuits – I felt lighter yet still.

Commuting Sunday morning was as it ever was. Slowly creeping out of the driveway and down the nearly empty highway. Headlights passing me on one side, taillights guiding me on the other.

Jen was awaiting me when I got there – a little late despite my best efforts to be a model pseudo-employee. How many times had I done this? How many times could I still do this? Jen let me take the reigns while she readied the line for service. I fell into the familiar pivot of dough, oil, rack, then back. Again and again. The pile of doughnuts increasing as the daylight did. It crept over the painted farm fields and variety of vegetables on the building next door. A mural celebrating local produce – tinged the softest shade of pink by the rising sun.

“Wow. We have so much time left,” Jen said, pleasantly surprised. Hands on her hips, she surveyed the work we had done. The work she let me do.

That night, when all the guests were gone and all the cleaning done, Alex and I shared a beer. New Glarus Belgian Red. A farewell tradition started the first time I left.

We sat comfortably, watching the cars go by outside. We talked about wine, apartment hunting, heart surgery, and ramen. Every once in awhile, passing headlights would illuminate a different corner of the room, a different feature of his face.

Suddenly, his entire face lit up, not from a headlight but with remembrance. He sprang out of his chair and started rifling on a shelf behind the bar. He returned with a slim, dark blue box. There was a large “GK” embossed on the top, surrounded by the outline of a spoon.

Inside was the Gray Kunz special edition spoon from last year. He took it out and handed it to me. My hand recognized the weight, the length of the handle. But this one felt softer, smoother than the others we kept en masse in the kitchen. It was copper – in fitting with Alex’s obsession. There were other flashes of it all throughout the restaurant – planters and pots and ladles and more. The entire bar front, which he’d made by hand, was distressed copper sheeting.

I rolled the spoon over in my hands as we continued to drink, to talk. About breadboxes, cookbooks, road trips, and regrets. The bottle ran dry long before the conversation would, but we had to concede. It was time to go.

“Here, hold this for me.”

I took the proffered box without thinking, assuming I was only doing a favor. Holding onto it while he cleaned up the glasses, discarded the bottle. The crooked grin and extra sparkle in his eyes gave away what he’d just done.

“No! No! I can’t! This is yours!” I tried to hand it back to him. He shook his head, waved his hands in refusal.

“Amanda. Please, take it. It’s sat in that box for months. I’ve been waiting for the right time to use it. Obviously this is it.”

I accepted the box, and the spoon inside.

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Thursday Things

  1. I can’t believe it – I went to the store today and didn’t buy any clearance Valentine’s Day candy. Who am I?
  2. Meat in your red sauce or nah? I used to be firmly in camp No-Meat, but my momma puts meat in her sauce and I’m into it.
  3. Mandy and I went to some of the best places in Nashville this weekend! She took me to a fabulous coffee shop that happened to be right smack dab in between Five Daughter’s Bakery (omg) and a Jeni’s Ice Cream (omg). Then across the street we had some banging Mexican food. Can life get better?
  4. We also ate at Henrietta Red (fiiiiiiiiiiinally) and it was even better than I’d hoped for. One of those meals that got the gears turning and my mind buzzing with excitement and ideas. Then there was a trip to Skull’s Rainbow Room where I had the most perfectly cooked scallops I’ve had in the last seven years. No joke. I remember the last time I had them (Chicago Restaurant Week, 2011, Prosecco).
  5. If you follow my IG and look at my stories (highly recommend), then you’ll know that a little girl came up to me at Jeni’s (as I was putting ice cream in between a Five Daughter’s doughnut) and whispered to me “Hufflepuffs rule!” and it was the sweetest, most precious thing ever.
  6. She must have been spurred to say that by the Hufflepuff pin I have proudly displayed on my denim jacket. I also have a pin that says “Dog Mom” and a turkey sandwich one and whole host of other pins and patches. I love the collection I’m curating.
  7. It wouldn’t be Thursday Things if I didn’t make a music recommendation that nobody asked for! BTVS did a musical for their hundredth episode and the soundtrack is so fabulous! I’d forgotten how many songs I still remembered!
  8. If you’re not into Buffy or musicals – a flaw I can look past, I guess – then check out Kaleo! Their stuff single-handedly kept me awake through Indiana and Kentucky this weekend.

Cake Batter Waffles (& Galentine’s Day)

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Cake Batter Waffle Recipe via Midwest Nice Blog

Or Galentine’s Day!

Cake Batter Waffle Recipe via Midwest Nice Blog

Or Palentine’s Day!

Cake Batter Waffle Recipe via Midwest Nice Blog

Or Mardis Gras!

Cake Batter Waffle Recipe via Midwest Nice Blog

Or Anna Howard Shaw Day!

Cake Batter Waffle Recipe via Midwest Nice Blog

Or Wednesday!

Cake Batter Waffle Recipe via Midwest Nice Blog

I made these waffles in honor of Galentine’s Day’s largest and most well known supporter and perpetuator – Leslie Knope. She loves her friends. She loves her waffles. She loves her work (but work always comes third). Making them cake batter waffles seemed like a decision she would applaud, as did the copious amounts of whipped cream. And I think she’d also understand them going up a day after Galentine’s Day – seeing as how I was too busy actually Galentine-ing with my bestie since birth, Mandy, to get it up in time. Work comes third, remember?

Cake Batter Waffle Recipe via Midwest Nice Blog

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