tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44038541138704220712024-03-12T22:56:17.009-07:00Blue ChickensLife, love, and food... at home and around the globe!Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08471382748046608545noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4403854113870422071.post-3682267303615407582015-01-04T17:08:00.000-08:002015-01-05T09:18:30.159-08:00When the LIGHT Breaks Through<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The tight ball rising. Shoulders starting to inch toward the bottom of my ears. Today is the last day of Christmas break and tomorrow it all starts. I feel like I'm looking up at a waterfall that had run dry and suddenly the flood gates have been let loose.<br />
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The last 6 months have been so full. Of good. Of hard. Of work. And I have not taken care of myself at all. Workouts have been nonexistent. Food choices… not so stellar.<br />
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And my heart. Let's just say I get a "C" for time with God this last term.<br />
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And that leaves me here. On the treadmill trying to start my body moving again. And the tension in my body is still rising.<br />
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And then, as I start another 'run' interval, looking out the garage window on a brown pasture, still sprinkled with the powder sugar snow, the light breaks through the cold grey sky. And as that sliver of yellow pink light shines through my heart knows…<br />
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I cannot do this on my own.<br />
I am not required to do this on my own.<br />
All these balls I'm juggling… faith, family, work, teaching my kids… they are all roles He has given me.<br />
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And HE will make beautiful things in them.<br />
IF I give Him room to be a part of it.<br />
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Let go.<br />
Let Him.<br />
Breath in His LIGHT.<br />
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As I look at that sunset through the clouds and my heart bows down in worship of the incredible creator who can't paint the sky, my body relaxes. I can catch a full breath now. I might not cry.<br />
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Tomorrows to-do list hasn't changed. But my focus has.<br />
My focus has to be on Him.<br />
I can't "make" good happen. But He can. Through me. If I stop, look and listen to His leading.<br />
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Today, He can. Tomorrow, He can.<br />
Now, if I can just remember this tomorrow morning.<br />
<br />Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08471382748046608545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4403854113870422071.post-82295737483481291792011-11-06T01:49:00.000-07:002011-11-06T01:49:17.065-07:00Joy in the Rain<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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I sat down tonight to drink my sleepy tea and let my mind unwind from the events of the day. I have to sigh and laugh a little as I pick up my joy journal... the one that happened to be the only paper I had to record the name, number and license of the driver I "bumped" into in the parking lot earlier this evening. That one when in the rainy dark night I looked left, right, and left again and CRASH.<br />
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I have to chuckle to myself. God's sense of humor. I've been extra challenged to find the blessings in all circumstances lately. When my family hit an unexpected and giant hurdle this spring, God kept gently reminding me of the call to give thanks... <i>in all circumstances. </i>Paul gave the challenge in his first letter to the Christians in Thessalonica - "Be joyful always; pray continuously; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." (1 Thes. 5:16-18) But when the unexpected crashes into your life and leaves a dent... even then?<br />
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I gave myself the pep talk... I can do it. I can find the beauty in the midst of rain. I can give thanks even in the midst of pain, despite the pain. I can find other things around it. Like the fresh mangos, special students, treasured friends and even scooter rides at lunch at the Herb Garden! They are all still there surrounding the hurdle. The hurdle doesn't take these beautiful things away.<br />
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It seems God has uped the anti. There it is, staring back at me. Ephesians 5:20 Paul's call to be "always giving thanks to God the Father <i>for </i>everything..." (my emphasis) What? How can this be? Finding good surrounding the bad i can do. But this? Can I give thanks <i>for</i> all circumstances? Not just for the happy new job, warm house, plenty to eat good circumstances. Could I do that? Can I do that? Can I trust that God has something good for me in it, even though all I see is pain?<br />
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Just a page before this challenge Paul passionately writes to the Ephesians pouring out his longing for them to "grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love... that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God..." (Ephesians 3:18-19) Is this what it takes? To be filled up full by God do I have to give thanks <i>for all</i> circumstances?<br />
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It sounds backwards. It FEELS backwards. How is pain going to lead me to hope and fullness? All of my being wants to stop pain, prevent pain, wear the 'helmet' that will keep me... and my Chicklets... safe.<br />
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In the midst of this challenge I've been reminded to start a Joy Journal again. Years ago I sat daily and stopped to see the sunlight, the roses, the smell pleasures of a backyard swing. And then I stopped. This month author Ann Voskamp and her book <i>"One Thousand Gifts"</i> have challenged me to start again. To stop and see the beauty and blessings of life, whether in a day of mess or bliss. 1,000 gifts of blessing. Can I find them? Will I find them? Can I find the beautiful in the midst of the rain?<br />
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Like I said, the very core of me does not like the sound of this. I want to protect, prevent, make the right choice so I don't have the bad consequence.<br />
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But God has a sense of humor. And sometimes no matter how careful I am, the crashes still come. Tonight it came right out of my blind spot and left a nice dent and broken fog light on the front of my car. And there in the back of my new Joy Journal are all the details... can I turn them around and find a blessing? I can't "protect". I messed up. In the split second of darkness, rain, and blind spots my best intentions couldn't stop it. So now what?<br />
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Now what?<br />
What joy, what thanks?<br />
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#16 we are all safe - no injuries<br />
#17 doing the right thing in front of my kids - I don't always do as I say... but tonight I did as we waited for the other driver and helped her get a tow truck, when we legally didn't have to. I pray it will stick with my kids... more than a lecture. More than a school assembly. How we waited, and waited, 'till the one we bumped was safely on her way home.<br />
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#18 bedtime snuggles - because they are so sweet... any day. especially on messy days.<br />
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I love how God gently nudges me, patiently waits for me, teaches me one step at a time to not just make it through a challenge but find a blessing in it. It may not be much, but it's a start. It's a step toward the beautiful and away from the ugly, angry, picking at the scratch that could choke me down.<br />
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I can't say I've found my blessing the big hurdle yet. I'm not quite there. But one step at a time.<br />
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Today, I found something to be thankful for, joyful for, in a mess.<br />
Today I danced in the rain.<br />
One more splash of joy...<br />
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(Photos... my Chickadee and me dancing in the pouring spring rain in Taiwan.)<br />
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(Discover the challenge for 1,000 gifts yourself. Visit Ann Voskamp's blog: <a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/">aholyexperience.com</a> )<br />
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<br />Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08471382748046608545noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4403854113870422071.post-90154874797355558852011-10-25T23:05:00.000-07:002011-10-25T23:05:58.164-07:00CRASH<div class="MsoNormal">falling, tumbling, sudden dropping</div><div class="MsoNormal">no man is an island, no life is alone</div><div class="MsoNormal">when dreams fall and life fails you</div><div class="MsoNormal">falling, tumbling, sudden drop</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">CRASH</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Hard floor, bones aching, heart throbbing</div><div class="MsoNormal">Tears falling, God calling</div><div class="MsoNormal">I love you</div><div class="MsoNormal">Dreams shattered, pieces scattered</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">CRASH</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Numb and frozen, shock shaking</div><div class="MsoNormal">Where am I? God are you with me?</div><div class="MsoNormal">Gentle whispers, I am with you</div><div class="MsoNormal">Where are we?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">CRASH</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">tears falling, all in grayscale,</div><div class="MsoNormal">please God breath new breath in me</div><div class="MsoNormal">make a new dream</div><div class="MsoNormal">show a new path</div><div class="MsoNormal">hold my heart and carry me</div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08471382748046608545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4403854113870422071.post-44275018863804677332010-06-10T23:14:00.000-07:002010-06-10T23:14:31.880-07:00Oceanside BlissOh, dear friends, it has been too long since I've shared. A bit of reorganizing, travel, and general running after the Chicklets has kept my fingers from tapping and my thoughts in my head. Most recently, the Chicklets and I joined The Captain on an adventure to Nye Beach (Newport), Oregon.<br />
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Is there possibly anything more glorious than the beach? Fresh, salty air. Rolling waves that hum their constant rhythm of perfect time... not too fast, not too slow. If only I could keep my life in time with the waves... I would certainly get more posting done!<br />
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The glorious long weekend looked like it would be filled with rainy day activities, and I packed a bag full to keep the Chicklets from climbing the walls. But never fear! The mornings were dry and Saturday was filled with sunshine! Which was a good thing because there are too many fabulous restaurants in Newport, with fish so fresh it melts in your mouth. You absolutely <i>have </i>to walk on the beach to make room before the next feast.<br />
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If you venture down the Oregon coast, plan to eat well in Newport. Don't count your calories, or your budget. Just enjoy...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://localocean.net/images/layout/bayfront_sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="54" src="http://localocean.net/images/layout/bayfront_sm.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Have lunch down at the harbor. But don't give in to temptation to eat that super fried, standard basket of fish and chips. Walk a little further down the row and fresh off the boat fare at <a href="http://localocean.net/menus">Local Ocean</a>. Trust me, your gut and your taste buds will thank you. You can also find them at the Oregon Coast Aquarium, but down by the bay you'll find all the ambiance of great Northwest seafood by the sea. The <i>Roasted Garlic & Dungeness Crab Soup</i> is a must! And the <i>Thai style Penn Cove Mussels</i> are simply scrumptious. Save room for the panko crusted <i>Grilled Fish & Chips</i>. Really, no matter what you order, you can't go wrong and you <i>will</i> want to come back.<br />
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Don't spend all your time at the Harbor. Nye Beach is the most adorable little area with a great beach, shopping, and food.<br />
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<a href="http://www.panachenewport.com/images/HOUSE%20PICTURES%20002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.panachenewport.com/images/HOUSE%20PICTURES%20002.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="http://www.panachenewport.com/beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="48" src="http://www.panachenewport.com/beach.jpg" width="200" /></a>Plan for a delicious dinner at <a href="http://www.panachenewport.com/">Panache</a>. It is worth the splurge. Owners and chef Tom & Linda are such gracious hosts. Located in an historic 1919 home with glowing fire place and ocean view, it is the perfect spot for a romantic evening. (If you are on a family trip and have the kiddos in tow, they are happy to accommodate. Our Chicklets did great.)<br />
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The menu at Panache begs for you to try one of everything... it's a great thing that several delectables, like the crab cakes, can be ordered as appetizers (yes, splurge!). And the desserts.... remember the old spelling quiz, "Desserts have 2 "s" because you want more, the sandy desert has 1." Well, you want 2 desserts at Panache. Share. But share two of them and let your taste buds dance!<br />
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If you're lucky enough to stay in town over night, try breakfast at Cafe Stephanie and lunch at Savory Cafe. They're both just a hop skip and a jump up from the beach and are perfect resting spots between those beach walks.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://nanasirishpub.com/system/photos/12/original/IMGP3156.jpg?1249418673" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://nanasirishpub.com/system/photos/12/original/IMGP3156.jpg?1249418673" width="149" /></a></div>And don't miss dinner at <a href="http://nanasirishpub.com/">Nanna's Irish Pub</a>. Take a break from the seafood, and soak up some fine Irish pot pies. The steak and mushroom is my favorite, with a Black & Tan to wash it down.<br />
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No, we didn't just eat the entire weekend away... only most of it. :) We did manage to squeeze in a trip to the Oregon Coast Aquarium. The Chicklets <i>loved</i> it, even the chicklet in me! And we did plenty of exploring on the beach. Most of all, we enjoyed time as a family away from the phone, the computer, the To Do list... and that my friends is priceless.Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08471382748046608545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4403854113870422071.post-54974676869152162712010-05-01T21:56:00.000-07:002010-05-01T21:56:54.124-07:00Simply Yum!For all my Gluten Free friends... or anyone who likes to eat good food!... you MUST try these tasty new crackers from Trader Joe's.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOvMuwnCf5RQXDdAq1-w_OR6LFPZq0kdBaFX55KVLks_zbGX9yZsipvlnO-492duS2EYzG0gzV4C3XboJwmCw3sjzl2tgise1EE-TZ-aL7LNw_OgUAFvxCcTI56Bu0sU1ZDRlBXP3LRy2R/s1600/Onion+n+Chive+GF+crackers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOvMuwnCf5RQXDdAq1-w_OR6LFPZq0kdBaFX55KVLks_zbGX9yZsipvlnO-492duS2EYzG0gzV4C3XboJwmCw3sjzl2tgise1EE-TZ-aL7LNw_OgUAFvxCcTI56Bu0sU1ZDRlBXP3LRy2R/s200/Onion+n+Chive+GF+crackers.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
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Add a nice goat cheese spread and a glass of wine and... well...<br />
just come on over and we'll nibble and chat!Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08471382748046608545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4403854113870422071.post-48277969994894667362010-04-13T23:15:00.000-07:002010-04-13T23:15:35.664-07:00When Life Gives You Blue Chickens...<div class="MsoNoSpacing"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYtUIjk1MZuw_P1OCe1c-NcZ56l9eG0Qa5XY5sTWdDvRkCmz3JHfZsOCOr9_oHqyhm2GJQS_t9OZjwbzt8yHhbltE9btpGLyIZFzYC3lPQxbHZvQ-NcBlUhpi2vBsG8tAob-DU_j8y6_C3/s1600/Chick+n+egg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYtUIjk1MZuw_P1OCe1c-NcZ56l9eG0Qa5XY5sTWdDvRkCmz3JHfZsOCOr9_oHqyhm2GJQS_t9OZjwbzt8yHhbltE9btpGLyIZFzYC3lPQxbHZvQ-NcBlUhpi2vBsG8tAob-DU_j8y6_C3/s200/Chick+n+egg.jpg" width="154" /></a></div>What’s the story with Blue Chickens, you say? I’m glad you asked! No, it’s not a corny take on an Elvis song. Or an old family recipe. These very real birds taught me a good lesson. One that seems to come back at me again and again.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">I was young, adventurous, and had been living in Asia for about a year and a half. The lack of access to Mac N Cheese and RiceARoni® was proving a crash course in “how to really cook without a box.” About Christmas time, I had the lovely idea to host my first <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">real </i>dinner party. Look out Martha, here I come!</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">A lovely <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Roast Lemon Herb Chicken</i> recipe had caught my eye. Now it was down to assembling my ingredients.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Veggies… check. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Lemons… check. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Herbs… check. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">The only thing left was the chicken. I hopped on the bus after work for the 40 minute ride to my most trust worth grocery market. It was out of the way. But with a dinner party coming I was sure to find the best chickens here. As I rounded the corner to the small meat section, I was caught… by the sight of this BLUE skinned </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">THING, </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">This awful bird looked like something bruised and beaten from a day in the ring with Rocky. The deep blue purple bird should have been headed to the ER, not my dinner table. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxaK52cWjDq3j76_jZFkb3GyWqb8ag5wDeMX_kZBqL3nXfH4KzwguRtsycKpV2S0vP5EpHxvU_1jH2Ff2OG7V9Did-BizEkYckyp1DThoASPhuoxw3cTybZm8nY8VYO0nh4FTd5u6-jtHq/s1600/Black+Bone+Chicken.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxaK52cWjDq3j76_jZFkb3GyWqb8ag5wDeMX_kZBqL3nXfH4KzwguRtsycKpV2S0vP5EpHxvU_1jH2Ff2OG7V9Did-BizEkYckyp1DThoASPhuoxw3cTybZm8nY8VYO0nh4FTd5u6-jtHq/s200/Black+Bone+Chicken.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">There were no normal birds to be found. So the next day I proceeded to take <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">another</i> bus part-way across town to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">another</i> grocery market. (I still wasn’t brave enough to purchase meat at the open market where birds would be hanging from the stall or still squawking from their pen… I am the city girl of the family, after all.) </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Store number three… once again, the same funky fowl...<br />
wrapped in plastic, with CLAWS </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">about to RIP RIGHT OUT and SCRATCH ME!</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Tears started to well up in my eyes. The blue skin was one thing… </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">But the thought of having to CHOP off the CLAWS myself… I just couldn’t do it!! </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">All I wanted was to make was a nice, NORMAL, roast chicken dinner!! Is this too much to ask?</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">I left the store in tears.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Picked up a latte at Starbucks … yes, there are Starbucks in Asia… Thank Goodness!!!</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">And went on with my dinner. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Lemon Herb Chicken Wings may not be Martha’s dish, but they are now mine! </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">(and they were from <i>normal </i>chickens)</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy12tx01tjdyTmZYgFfeWkCTWx9xwa94d1cWrBewLkGKD0Vrgjd501sJoPo3Z75ExNGA27ae9v9XirhT2Z1eDCmoz-21fvsgjXg54bE6ne_CZVknbMNROlbiXhPlzkwCxsK9DcVn4rW_i4/s1600/Lil+blue+chick.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy12tx01tjdyTmZYgFfeWkCTWx9xwa94d1cWrBewLkGKD0Vrgjd501sJoPo3Z75ExNGA27ae9v9XirhT2Z1eDCmoz-21fvsgjXg54bE6ne_CZVknbMNROlbiXhPlzkwCxsK9DcVn4rW_i4/s200/Lil+blue+chick.gif" width="196" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I still haven’t tried a blue chicken myself. You never know when the day may come… but I can say:<br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">When life gives you Blue Chickens… have a good cry, get a latte, and improvise!</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">PS - It turns out the offending fowl may have actually been a delicacy known for their healthful properties, particularly for women. Go figure?<o:p></o:p></i><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2007/01/17/dining/17blac.html">NY Times "Now, a Chicken in Black"</a></i></div>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08471382748046608545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4403854113870422071.post-3002493628797998982010-04-08T18:58:00.000-07:002010-04-08T18:58:48.861-07:00My Fuzzy Pink Robe<div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimfNFR7HRlGLnR16WXlKeflOtcAoq6Y-dzz922uTzB-l7YbbrCnO3fHjWucUXhIklt4cIz6BfvEmL7DdYYgwbTQK4TTUKiWM4r73yc1K5NXT5AlfCHLNw-jM2_OwuRFEa8kl9mYO-42Hee/s1600/The+Robe1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimfNFR7HRlGLnR16WXlKeflOtcAoq6Y-dzz922uTzB-l7YbbrCnO3fHjWucUXhIklt4cIz6BfvEmL7DdYYgwbTQK4TTUKiWM4r73yc1K5NXT5AlfCHLNw-jM2_OwuRFEa8kl9mYO-42Hee/s200/The+Robe1.jpg" width="150" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">If I could spend all day in my fuzzy pink robe, I think I would. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">It’s soft. It’s cozy. It’s not too pink. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">It feels a lot like the robes at my favorite spa… </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">But when it’s APRIL and I wake up to SNOW dusting the yard I just want to cozy up in The Robe.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">And hibernate.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">For the day.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Me. My robe. My coffee. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Maybe a sappy movie… like </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">When Harry Met Sally</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">, or </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Casablanca</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">. Something classic, lovely, heartwarming.</span></div><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The only thing better might be spending the day at that spa!</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; line-height: normal;"></span></span>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08471382748046608545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4403854113870422071.post-58270952230221861612010-04-05T17:34:00.000-07:002010-04-05T22:04:20.300-07:00I'm in love...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWgglKhadAxqLU108q1SOpo1quWMJbL6ewE9T3-GQgCec6pY_Q2SGIV7MnKIkT6KXHaK7nI8c3dnKymSrsyWfEypqo2giqZ5ZAujWznlbuoVS-Huakt0C-cJ2IgjuSW_He1_BBxPRpns8v/s1600/Pie+Dish+Dutch+Baby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWgglKhadAxqLU108q1SOpo1quWMJbL6ewE9T3-GQgCec6pY_Q2SGIV7MnKIkT6KXHaK7nI8c3dnKymSrsyWfEypqo2giqZ5ZAujWznlbuoVS-Huakt0C-cJ2IgjuSW_He1_BBxPRpns8v/s200/Pie+Dish+Dutch+Baby.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You know you're getting older when you're in love with a piece of cookware. But OH! I am </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">so </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">in love with my new dish from </span><i><a href="http://www.lecreuset.co.uk/en-us/Products/Stoneware/Cooking-and-Baking/Pie-Dish-2-qt/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Le Creuset</span></a></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">. It's a deep dish enameled stoneware pie plate. And it's beautiful perfection.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was an impulsive purchase. Out on a date with my man, ordering a latte and there it was... bright as spring... deep and smooth... calling me to take it home to my kitchen.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've always dreamed of having the perfect dish of baking Dutch Babies (also known as German Pancakes). They are a family favorite for breakfast... and unashamedly simple, especially if you have the right dish. It makes Saturday morning breakfast so simple! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've never had the right dish... until now. My standby baker broke. And the pottery dish can't really be heated hot enough so the pancake doesn't quite come out right. Really, when they say the right dish makes the meal, they're telling the truth.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But this... my Dutch Baby in my new deep dish... it was a perfect piece of breakfast heaven... puffy, golden crisp on top, soft inside, mouthwatering mmm...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Don't tell anyone how easy it is. Just enjoy!</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVoMnbVeiUzn95tiJnU40Kip3-gnlW6O7L3TrMCqf5qOyjKoQq8L32Tw1DfEHnNZLRc26z3mLb8d20CkwVwoLgikLQGJywXwdG7mwWhVvOFm8rpqkU2rnQ_9sD7Fskysgz126oXowC5kB-/s1600/Dutch+Baby+Brunch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVoMnbVeiUzn95tiJnU40Kip3-gnlW6O7L3TrMCqf5qOyjKoQq8L32Tw1DfEHnNZLRc26z3mLb8d20CkwVwoLgikLQGJywXwdG7mwWhVvOFm8rpqkU2rnQ_9sD7Fskysgz126oXowC5kB-/s200/Dutch+Baby+Brunch.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></b><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dutch Babies</span></b><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">4 eggs</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1 cup milk</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1 cup flour</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1/2 stick of butter</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">fresh lemon, powdered sugar, syrup or jam for topping!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Preheat oven to 400°. Put 1/2 stick of butter in the deep dish pan and put in oven to melt as it heats. Once butter is nearly melted, whir 4 eggs in a blender for 1 minute. Slowly add milk and flour, blending for 30 seconds more. Pour batter into pan with melted butter and bake for 20-30 minutes until puffed up and golden </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(perfect time for sipping coffee and reading the paper).</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Slice and top with your favorite pancake toppings... fresh squeezed lemon and powdered sugar are my favorites!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Add fresh squeezed juice and coffee and breakfast is complete! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">See, I told you it was too easy. Shhhhhh!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(My gluten free, lactose and dairy intolerant friends... no worries. I'll post my GF, milk free recipe soon!)</span></span></i>Tarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08471382748046608545noreply@blogger.com1