Wishin' and Dreamin'

This year, Christmas falls two days before we pick up and move back around the world to the United States.  In my family we never really celebrated the holidays in a very materialistic way.  In fact, I usually gave my friends a tiny loaf of cardamom bread baked with a recipe handed down from the Scandinavian side of my family (here's a similar recipe originally from Gourmet).  It mortified me at the time.  Now, even though I spend more money on gifts, I think those little, brick-like loaves top anything else in terms of embodying the spirit of the season.  I would love to make them again, giving some away and keeping the rest as a present for Jack and myself.  Perhaps this is just the cheap-o in me, but it's easy to justify.  A slice of cardamom bread, toasted, with a little butter is indescribably rich and comforting.

Christmas 2010 feels different in that it marks the beginning of this whole new chapter.  We are moving to somewhere that hopefully we will stay (at least part time) for a long, long while and I feel like celebrating that.  Furthermore, I feel like celebrating that in a very selfish, materialistic way.  I want to buy things for myself and for our new life.  I want things that come with lifetime guarantees, craftsmanship, and the promise of good years ahead. In that spirit, I've been craving both really (in some cases really really) nice things, or things that will help me grow and create the kind of life I want.

1. Herb Seed Collection. From Terrain. $24 "The vintage-style burlap bag comes filled with seven packets of heirloom herbs including: Genovese Basil, Cilantro, Thyme, Parsley, Chives, Italian Oregano, and Culinary Sage." When I think about things I might be able grow myself to eat, herbs are way up there.  Fresh herbs can be so expensive (why is that?) and I think that these would be so rewarding to plant and eventually cook with.  I imagine them going in a window box in a sunny kitchen.  I hope we get to have a sunny kitchen.

2. Linnea's Lights Fir Candle.  Also from Terrain.  $28 "This Forest Fir candle evokes the scent of being in the middle of a dense, fir forest on a still winter's night."  I'd love my house to smell like that. I also love the packaging on these.

3.  Bezel Necklace Large with Moonstone.  From Sarah Perlis Jewelry.   $520  "8mm moonstone set in 22k gold bezel on delicate 16” 18k chain"  My mom wears a pendant that is both moonstone and soapstone.  It is so beautiful and I couldn't imagine her without it.  Both my sister and I teethed on it.  Despite the fact that this is prohibitive, I put it in because I've been feeling the need for a delicate necklace, and this is to remind me to save and wait for something as beautiful and precious as this.  Because if I wear a necklace half as much as my mom has worn hers, it will be worth it. 

4. A Guide to Green HousekeepingA Guide to Green Housekepping by Christina Strutt   $13.82  I've heard and read really good things about this book.  Both of us like to clean, but we seem to have a pretty high tolerance for grime at the same time.  I'd love to be inspired to clean by what I read.  Given that some household cleaners are undeniably noxious, I'd prefer to be working with something more natural from the beginning.  We do get a fresh start whether we like it or not... and I'm sold at the mention that we will probably save money doing so (some of us have future gold necklaces to buy).

5. Maine by MCMC 10ml organic roll-on.  $45  "Bulgarian rose absolute, local clary sage, wild Somalian myrhh and French seaweed absolute convey the fresh scents of sea, air, sun, pine, and the discovery of a single perfect beach plum rose.  Dries down into the musky scent of sensual skin coupled with sun-dried grass."  I love reading perfume descriptions... apparently even more than reading candle descriptions.  This sounds like my happy place... which is firmly on the New England coast.

6. Pictorial Webster's Stamp Set .  $12.89  Rubber stamps are a staple of my family's craft projects and I'm enthusiastic about building up my own collection.  The ones from Cavallini and Co. are beautiful (and wood-backed) but these natural images win out.  

7. The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters.   $23.10  I need a comprehensive cookbook, and one one that also motivates me to wake up on Saturday mornings and get my butt to the farmers' market.  Voila... '“The Art of Simple Food” is intended to be Waters’s master class, the most straightforward utterance of her principles and a comprehensive touchstone cookbook' (from the NYT book review ). 

8.  Frye Melissa Short boot in Cognac.  $268 I've actually spent a lot of money over the past couple years on boots of questionable quality and comfort.  I gulp, but I think these will be worth it.

9.  Staub Round Cocotte 2 3/4. From Williams Sonoma.  $99.95  This does seem outrageous, but it is lifetime quality and perfect for the small, stewy meals we often make.  

10. Dog Squall Jacket from Lands End. $24.50 Lyle has a handsome jacket but we're not sure where it is at the moment.  As you saw, he recently posed naked in the snow.  He hates the rain and sometimes gets cold.  I also like the idea of a reflective strip for safety.

Holiday Decorating: Traditional

Where wooden livestock meet red ribbons.  Wreaths, evergreen swags and a little shine.

Sources (the links are on the numbers): 1, 2 , 4 Country Living    5 , 6 , 7 , 8 Martha Stewart    3 , 9 Anthropologie

Lyle, Lord of the Snow

When we woke up yesterday, we saw there was a couple inches of snowfall outside.  I don't think I can possibly express our excitement upon seeing that, because we knew that at long last we would be reaching a big milestone in the life of Lyle.  To summarize the eventful life of Lyle so far: he was adopted as a puppy from a shelter in Arkansas.  Then he lived in Georgia with me for a summer before we moved to Spain.  Since then, Lyle, who is conveniently travel-sized, has become quite the continental traveler.  I understand that dogs don't have the same motivations and desires as people, probably including including international wanderlust.  At the same time, he travels well and I love seeing his ears perk up when we get to somewhere new.  I would like to think that Lyle will remember some of what he's seen and smelled of the world.  I know I've enjoyed watching him discover new things and explore his surroundings.

This, Lyle's experience of snow, was a big milestone.  He's nearly three now, and definitely a grown up dog.  It seems so incredible that there was a time when we celebrated him walking across a pillow without collapsing for a nap.  Most of the 'milestones' have been unexpected, however, since we left the United States.  For example, when he had his first taste of rabbit in paella, or when he peed for the first time on a cathedral.  This one, however, was one that we'd anticipated for a long time.  Watching him bite at the snow, run around, and generally be confused by it, was everything that we hoped it would be.  

Holiday Decorating: Folklore Fiesta

Some of my favorite Christmas decorations growing up were the retablos and Mexican pottery candlesticks.  We inherited them from my grandparents, who had collected them while traveling.  They looked so vibrant amongst our more staid New England decorations and they spoke to a global celebration and the way different people craft light and beauty to balance out this darkest part of the year.

Here we have different textiles and objects that reflect that bright, handmade aesthetic, with a global range from the Andes to Scandinavia.  

(l to r)

Top Row: Sara Story featured in Domino, Peruvian Retablo, Toast 

Middle Row: Anthropologie, Toast , Will from the Bright Bazaar 's brilliant folk-themed styling, Toast 

Bottom Row: Suzani Pillow from Etsy, Toast, Vintage Swedish Dala Horses on Etsy 

Carrot cake!

Today is my mother-in-law's birthday and I made a cake.  A few days ago, I volunteered and we decided that I could make the cake in a stealth operation while my in-laws were out.  It was not a stealth operation at all.  At various points I had to hide a cake behind my back while slinking around the house.  Several people have also all but told her-- from "Why is there icing sugar on the list?" to "Oh, I'm making a carrot cake now, too!"  We could have, perhaps should have, come clean about the whole thing.  Then we could be sitting around waiting for cake time, instead of sitting around pretending that we are not waiting for cake time.  It's even worse for me, probably, because I know exactly what we are waiting for and I'm so excited to share this particular cake with everyone.

This cake is one of the recipes that we make year after year in my family.  Every September we make this carrot cake for my mother.  Then pumpkin pie for my sister's birthday and strawberry tarts for mine.  The carrot cake sets the bar high.  To me, this carrot cake was the one, the only, choice for this birthday.  After we had a looong conversation with a local friend about carrot cake today (I know!) we know that Gill loves carrot cake, but doesn't know how to make it.  I plan to pass this recipe along, if it goes over well.  Which I think it will.  Because this cake is delicious--fluffy, spicy and moist.  It's been tweaked and modified over the years, but actually less so than other recipes in our repertoire.  It is originally from the 1975 Williamsburg Cookbook.  This is what my mother e-mailed to me, when I said I wanted to make The Carrot Cake (Thanks mom!  I hope you don't mind my copy/pasting... and see, it turned out great!):

Spicy Carrot Cake  (my mom's notes)

1.5   Cups Vegetable Oil (I use corn, in a pinch safflower, if desperate peanut, never olive!)
2.5   Cups Sugar
4      Eggs, Separated

2.5   Cups Sifted Flour
1.4   Teaspoons Baking Powder
  .5   Teaspoon Baking Soda
  .25  Teaspoon Salt
  .25  Teaspoon Grated Nutmeg
  .5    Teaspoon Ginger
1       Teaspoon Cinnamon  (I use a heavy hand with the spices...)

1.5    Cups Grated Raw Carrots
1       Cup Chopped Pecans   (I omit) (other additions: coconut raisins, currants...) Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Grease and flour a 10 inch tube cake pan.

Mix the oil and sugar.  Beat in the egg yolks one at a time.  Continue to beat and add 5 Tablespoons very hot water.  (at this point  the mixture should become cloudy then very smooth and almost shiny – you are essentially cooking the eggs a bit with the hot water) Sift and mix dry ingredients.  Add to egg mixture.

Stir in the carrots and pecans.

Beat the egg whites until they form stiff peaks.  Fold gently into the batter. ( this is a heavy batter, lightened by the folded froth)
Pour into the prepared pan and bake for 60 to 70 minutes until done. ( test with a toothpick or straw)
Cool right side up in the pan for 15 minutes, then hang until turned out.  Cool completely.

Drizzle with a Glaze made of .75 Cup Confectioner’s Sugar mixed with 3 Tablespoons Lemon Juice.  ( or dust with sifted  Confectioners Sugar) (or ice with Cream Cheese Icing made with Butter, Cream Cheese and Confectioner’s Sugar...) Note: I actually just mixed some sugar packets (nicked from the cafe where we had coffee this afternoon) into some creme fraiche and poured it over... the aforementioned icing sugar was a long story, but suffice to say we have plenty of cornmeal now.

Re-create the Look: Suzanna Bierwirth's Cozy Sofette

This is indoorsy and wintry in the best way and makes me feel optimistic about the months of cold ahead.  You can imagine that the light filling the room is glinting off snow.  The modern details and yellow feel cheerful.  This looks like a good place to wile away a Sunday afternoon with a cup of tea and a good book.

The inspiration was featured in one of the Home Tours on Martha Stewart's Home & Garden site (here), and it was orginally been featured in Blueprint.  Suzanna Bierwirth is the creative director and founder of Binth, which creates graphic, whimsical designs like those featured on the pillows here.  This was the kitchen-side living area from her Chicago row house.

The sofa has to be the Odette from Mitchell Gold.  Find it here.

The side table is La Bohème 3 by Kartell, available for $198 here.

This blanket is made from real, Connecticut sheep and costs $160 for a queen size, found via Remodelista.

The pillow on the left is by Fauna and the pillow on the right  is by three sheets 2 the wind, $36 and $85, respectively.

Homesickness

I was surprised to wake up yesterday morning teary-eyed and with a familiar ache somewhere in my chest.  I am homesick, again.  I'd experienced this feeling periodically over the past two years living in Spain. It was not, at least in my experience, a sharp, specific pain.  Of course, there were cravings for Mexican food and the like, which could be exquisite, but they were only cravings.  Homesickness was more insidious.  When I was homesick I missed everything familiar: feeling like I belonged to the people and place around me.  I missed the freedom of driving my car around and of having spontaneous conversations.  I missed the way that the seasons smelled at home.  I missed the daily routines and pace of life.  Overall, it was more of a general feeling--like when you think you're waking up in your childhood bed and reality takes away that feeling of comfort and security.  Even if you realize that you are in an amazing place, that you love where you are, you don't get back that initial feeling of peace that comes from not having to question your surroundings.

Now I have that feeling again, except this time I'm not missing the United States.  We will be there in a month. While the move is long-awaited and exciting, a month is soon enough for me.  Instead I'm homesick for a place I was sure would never feel like home, Spain.

Nobody tells you this about living abroad.  Everybody talks about the discomfort of living in another country: the language barrier, the bureaucratic nightmares, the prejudices.  All these things can be true, at times, and living them is just as difficult as people say.  What they don't tell you is that at the same time, even, or maybe especially, in the greatest discomfort, you are planting a small part of yourself in the inhospitable ground.  They don't tell you that when you leave a place, even a place you were plotting to leave for almost as long as you had been there, that part of yourself--that weedy, scrappy, wide-eyed part--stays behind.  It thrives.  Months or years later you wake up feeling out of place, uncomfortable, and you know why.  You know that the only place that would feel like home at this moment is that place where you struggled and where you lost that tiny part of yourself.  You realize you are now in love with the very things you found strangest and most irritating.  The separation from them aches.

The only solution to this feeling is to go about life as usual.  Survival and happiness depends on living in the moment.  Yet, as you daydreamed once about returning home, you now plan your trip back.  Maybe not for forever, but there are minimal requirements.  You must walk down a certain street, even though it will still smell like pee.  Then there's "taking" a tiny beer in the plaza with friends.  You need to eat an almond pastry from a certain bakery and you even hope for a firecracker to be set off alongside you.  Then, with the adrenaline, you'll curse at the scoundrel, who you can no longer hate, in that colorful way that took you so long to master.  You want to feel alive, which is impossible as long as you are homesick in this new way.  Nobody tells you that when you choose to live in a foreign place, you will be homesick, not only while you are away, but also afterwards, even months and years later.    (Photo by me, taken roughly ten meters from our old front door)