“Although no sculptured marble should rise to their memory, nor engraved stone bear record of their deeds, yet will their remembrance be as lasting as the land they honored. ”
Scenes from Sunday (3)
Our family makes a habit of getting together in between the major holidays. While we gather and feast on Thanksgiving, at Easter, and Christmas, the months in between require their own kind of celebration. We convene for cold cuts and pizza served on paper plates. No preparation is required; we just show up and break bread. My late grandfather used to sit at the head of the table, and my grandmother would make him a plate. My grandmother replaced him at the head of the table and my father would make her a plate. Although they have both gone home, together, they're never really that far. We still eat our cold cuts and think of them fondly.
My grandparents used to store their vehicles in the garage, as a garage is intended. They took extra special care of all their possessions, likely a product of their humble beginnings. When James and I moved in, we opted to park the cars in the driveway and use the garage for gatherings. A dart board, mismatching chairs, antique bar, hotdog and popcorn machines are the only provisions. With the arrival of spring, the garage is opened and James has been cooking more than usual; his favorite method of preparation is barbecue. We took our dear cold cut night outside and served up an assortment of salads, grilled meats, and vegetables.
Assorted antipasti.
Charred London Broil drizzled with melted butter and grilled chicken with garlic/olive oil over crostini.
Grilled corn.
I woke to the smell of smoke as James began his pork ribs and beef brisket at 7am. He had already been to the grocery store to pick up more ingredients by the time I wandered in to the kitchen for a coffee. We cleaned and prepared all day in anticipation for the grand reveal of Nonny and Homer's garage. First we had antipasti: olives, prosciutto, capicola, artichokes, and provolone. Every half hour thereafter, we had another course. James has an issue with moderation when it comes to mealtime. Grilled chicken with garlic and oil as well as London broil drizzled with melted butter were served on Italian bread, beefsteak style. Few folks outside of New Jersey have such a thing, but we relish in the wonder of grilled meat atop crusty bread.
He made mussels two ways, first with a traditional marinara and second in white wine, lemon and garlic. Once the slurping subsided and all that remained were shells, we had grilled corn, pulled pork, brisket, and ribs. I can not help but hope Nonny and Homer are smiling affectionately on their little garage filled with family, laughing together and overcome by nostalgia. As the sun went down we had fruit crumbles, apple, pear and blueberry, with ice cream. And cannoli. There were so many leftovers, we got together the day following and did it all over again.
A blueberry tart with vanilla ice cream. Beautiful sweets like these will be available this June at 2Sweet.
Less is more (2)
Drinking coffee from a pretty mug
Pretty mugs always heighten the experience of drinking something warm and comforting. Some of my favorite mugs are bought from the oasis that is the kitchen section at Anthropologie. Others are gifts I gratefully received. Different mugs serve different states of mind and I relish in the selection of the right mug for a particular cup of coffee. Better, a cappuccino.
Lighting matches
The audible friction, a quick pop, and the immediate scent of embers. Of fire. Matches are valuable in that they have an expiration. One moment matches burn brightly, and the next they are gone. The scent lingers on like a fond memory.
A s'more
I have yet to meet a person who does not like a s'more or some variation of one. Not a huge fan of marshmallows, my mom simply melts some Hershey's over a graham cracker. Others go without the chocolate. I myself like it all; the more decadent, the better. My sister and I roasted leftover chocolate covered Peeps from Easter and it was quite successful. Once I used a peanut butter cup in lieu of milk chocolate. Divine. Huddled around the fire with marshmallow laden fingers there is laughter.
A rocking chair
I am well beyond my days as a child, but I know why children are calmed by rocking. It is fluid and soothing. The pattern is predictable and therefore constantly reassuring. Forward and backward. Forward and backward. While no one is cradling me in their arms whispering "Shhh, baby sleeping", I still have the rocking chair.
Getting a green light
Living and driving in a metropolitan region, stop lights are, well, everywhere. Every so often though, the green lingers a little longer than I anticipated and I can continue on my journey, uninterrupted. My sister touches the ceiling overhead in a fit of superstition to prolong the green as she approaches the intersection. I giggle but it does always seems to work.
“The moment one gives close attention to any thing, even a blade of grass it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself. ”
Less is more
I know what you must be thinking. She is talking about decorating or makeup. Maybe accessorizing. What can this girl possibly know about those topics? She only ever talks about eating, or spending time with others while eating... While I love (trying) to decorate and I do wear makeup, I am going to opt out of adding to the ongoing dialogue around these hot topics. Let's leave it to the professionals.
In this case, "less" is made up of the simple and ordinary joys that drive a considerable part of contentment. Nearly every week, I will share five simple pleasures in an effort to live gratefully in the moment. While our culture may emphasize the need to have more, be more and accomplish more, there should also be a faction of us that mocks this unending pursuit by remembering that less is more.
Riding a Razor scooter
Easter's warm weather afforded the younger generation in my family the opportunity to play outside together. We range from 8 years old up to 27, but playtime is our equalizer. I raced my twin cousins on their Razor scooters and despite my longer, stronger legs came in last place. Gosh it was fun though, and I felt a youthful calm that afternoon. We feasted on my Aunt Cathy's Easter cookies and cupcakes by the twins' mother Angela after our field day outside. For a moment, I was eight years old and carefree again.
This summer Angela is opening a 2Sweet retail location and you too can feast on her confections. More details to come.
Singing alone in the car with the windows down
When behind the wheel, I slip into the belief that I will not see anyone I know on the open road. Reckless abandon outweighs my otherwise typical prudent behavior and I sing loudly to my heart's content, with the windows down. The wind and strangers rushing by me, I strive to remain in tune in the event someone might venture close enough to hear me.
Cooking hot dogs on an open fire
My grandparents gave us their chiminea to keep on our patio as we spend most warm evenings cooking and eating outside together. We grabbed some Sabrett hotdogs and metal skewers and roasted our dinner over the open fire. No utensils required and easy clean up. Tasty too!
Homemade Icing
My sister loves chocolate cake with cream cheese icing. I am a carrot cake lover, which also pairs beautifully with cream cheese icing. While Betty and Duncan are consistent crowd pleasers, there is something extra rewarding about whipping the icing from scratch.
Fuzzy socks on freshly creamed feet
I worked as a high school student in a small boutique called Jake's Montclair. It was a genuine neighborhood shoppe selling Life is Good apparel and merchandise. It has since closed but thankfully I acquired numerous pairs of these socks. All different colors and patterns, I adorn them after a long bath. Feet deserve respite as well; they take us where we are going.