Tales of Me and the Husband

a hot day at boston’s greenway.



well monday was a really, really good day.  it was hot, it was sunny, and we had fun plans to take the train into the city with friends and meet at the greenway.  three of us plus our little ones got on and took it to north station (extra exciting versus the normal drive; also, parker’s friend alfie was calling it a choo-choo and parker kept correcting him, “traaaaain” which is funny since parker stopped calling it a choo-choo like two days ago.) and met our friend rachael and her two in the city.  it was a perfect day.  we got pastries from bread + butter, pizza from galleria umberto, gelato from someplace who’s name escapes me– so, we basically ate and lounged and splashed and basked in the sun.  i’m pretty sure parker’s smile did not leave his face for roughly four hours straight.  like i said, it was a really, really good day.  i like spaces like this in the big city.  
also, as i do… i made a movie of the day.  i’ve been tearing my hair out (hyperbole, but only a smidge) with the audio though.  it sounds great in iMovie but terrible once uploaded to vimeo.  why, why, whyyyyy?  some really confusing tutorials about bitrate did not help me.  i think the issue is on the iMovie side of things (only happened once i downloaded the new iMovie, never before!) but how do you change those fancy settings in iMovie?  i see no option for that.  so, either, help me for the love i will owe you one, OR forgive the crappy audio.  or skip it altogether because, it’s really a video only a mother will love.  but really, help me please.  now you reeeeeally want to push play, don’t you?

our weekend.

this weekend was a good one.  a busy one, but a good one.  and here would be where i naturally veer into talking about the weather but i’m not going to.  people, i. am. not. going. to.

friday night i went into boston for the ray lamontagne concert with my friends anna and jenny.  it was great, just as you’d expect, though i do wish he’d have played less of his supernova album and more old stuff.  but then, i think i always wish that with every concert i go to, and of course they do need to promote the new stuff.  it was still wonderful.  that man’s voice.  it’s just so great.

saturday night we had a family movie night and watched we bought a zoo.  that movie is just the sweetest and makes me tear up nothing short of three times; for steve, at least five.  the scene where the dad’s watching rosie play with the peacocks and then jonsi starts in the background and the sun comes in and he’s smiling and decides to buy the zoo? that’s one of the three times i cry.  that movie is a family favorite (especially steve’s), and it was just so nice to sit and watch it with my people all around.  you do listen to the soundtrack right?  no?  stop what you’re doing and listen now.  oh, and we had haagen dazs ice cream for dessert: vanilla and chocolate both with a splash of milk.  mmmmm.  best ice cream ever.  ever.  ever.  ever.

sunday we got a lot done here around the house, and finally i’m going to go make our bed (freshly laundered sheets are one of my favorite things, but the making bed part, not so much) and watch bachelorette and game of thrones with steve.  team tyrion!  (aren’t we all?  that probably didn’t need to be said.)

hope you all had a good weekend!

a morning in may.

some mornings i get parker out of his crib and have to sort of pump myself up for another day.  i don’t pop out of bed all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed like some of you special people.  it takes a little more to get me going.  a little coffee in my cup, a little easy-listening music.  met with a toddler who absolutely does pop out of bed bright-eyed and bushy-tailed almost 100% of his days, you realize quickly where you’re lacking.  can i have some of what you have parker?  even so, our mornings are quiet.  parker will eat some wheaties or yogurt with granola alongside lindsey eating her wheaties.  i put on some jazz or george winston.  gracie’s still half asleep.  lately the mornings have started cloudy which, as you know, has an even sleepier effect on things.  steve’s been home, his normal class schedule is over for the summer.  he lounges on the floor while parker plays around us–interrupting us with his latest toy creation every few minutes.  we refill our coffee mugs.  sometimes i catch parker flipping through books, one of my favorite things to see him doing.  better still when he has gracie sharing the seat with him.
the quiet mornings don’t last long.  the day’s events and errands shuffle into their place needing to be checked off the list.  but i like them.  i like staying in my pajamas, having an empty agenda, if only for a few hours.   

andi’s bachelorette season, episode 2

eric.  first one on one.  also known as “the guy who will always be able to one-up you.”  i mean, bring him to the beach and he’s like “i’ve been to the beaches in thailand, australia,  and, just last week, cape town.”  helicopter?  i did that yesterday.  flew it, actually.

commercial break:
question: could that deanna/salon chair commercial have been cheesier?
answer: no

and we’re back.  “mountains?  pretty cool but have you seen k-2?”  alright, enough with those jokes.  louis-snowboard-instructor reminds me of the stoner in clueless.  cannot remember his name–in clueless or real life.  andi sounds like she has a cold.  right?  he lists piano as something he’s bad at? come on.  they’re talking about syria. i could probably listen to him tell stories for the rest of the show.  and it’s all making me sad.  he’s talking family, kids.  are his parents watching this?  his family?  gosh.

alright, we’re not going down a sad-path.

group date.  they are sooo glad they all worked their pecs and abs before coming on the show.  has cody worked as hard on his brain as he has on his body?  time will tell.  also, his biceps are twice the width of his head.  i’m uncomfortable watching marcus hump the floor.  robot is reminiscent of yo gabba gabba.  not sure that’s what they were intending.  craig.  obnoxious or funny?  (the answer comes later, as we now know.)  not sure yet.  josh m. has a lot of teeth.  more than the average person.  some of the guys are getting awfully into this.  did they even get liquored up before this????

she looks really pretty.  also, i like that she’s saying it like it is.  “you’re not shy.”  craig’s getting messy. and saying a lot more words than anyone else.  at least eight times the amount of words as anyone else.

chris looks a little brad womack-ish but if you squished him down a few inches by pushing on his head.

craig.  oh, sweet craig.  killing your chances one shot at a time.

opera singer looks like guy on castle.  i like marcus BUT he reminds me of rich guy who arrived via helicopter on emily’s season.

chris.  sort of dressed like an easter egg.  outfit change.  perfectly placed 55-years-together couple next to them.  ….and then they get deep in interviews.  well played, abc.  perfectly casted.  “here for the right reasons.”  vom vom vom vom so much vom.  nice guy, but… i don’t know.  i’m meh about this date.

chris got first kiss.  should’ve gone to eric.

andi likes her boobs.  i don’t blame her, but i mean, she does.

#ya’ll  #allya’ll

marquel.  terrible outfit.  floral tie, plaid shirt, striped socks.  he’d be in that back section of usweekly for sure.

cody’s hair needs its own hashtag.  strangely asymmetrical.

craig.  you’re the sweetest guy ever.  couldn’t get over it.  but sweetest guy ever.  hmmm?

also, i also live tweet.  perhaps some repeats of the above.  come on out, monday nights!  @itsahuntlife over there.

so, yeah, we’re doing this.  bachelor-blogging again.  my apologies to those who don’t watch the show… and yay! to those who do.  now gimme your commentary.

The haps, lately.

Kids learn early on to play both sides of the parenting team.  Parker is currently pleading for Dadaaaa from the crib because he doesn’t feel like napping.  Pity for you, dear child, Dada is not home.  He also discarded all of his blankets and his pillow from the crib and dropped them on the floor.  He thinks this is hurting me, but I’m not the one who will be sleeping directly on a crib mattress now am I?

I’m currently eating leftovers from last night’s dinner, which was really quite good.  It’s good warm or cold (I might prefer it cold, straight from the fridge).  It was ‘grammed, but in case you didn’t see it: orzo, chicken, grape tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, feta, balsamic vinegar, olive oil, and a splash of dressing.  YUM.  It will be in heavy rotation this summer, of this I am certain.  Parker loved it too–except for the grape tomatoes.  He must’ve gotten my dislike for the things (I don’t like tomatoes.  I know, I knowwww.)

Everyone’s back for the summer (mostly; Nathaniel will be traveling to Hong Kong in about a month, and visiting family in Minnesota before that, so give or take, we’re all here.), so I’m under strict self-given orders to keep plentiful groceries in the house.  It’s a lot of people, in this family, and if food gets low things start to get a little bit squirrely.  You don’t want to be around when that happens.  Adjustment period, for all, goes much smoother if there’s sufficient food.

Parker has taken to running in circles around the house–really quite fast too.  He stands at the freezer and counts: “one, two, fwee, foh, figh, wick, vevem, eight, nine, ten, go!” and he’s off.  He doesn’t take corners even a fraction slower than his straightaways which always has me crossing my fingers he’s not going to pummel into the corner of the train table but so far so good.  It is so cute.

Lindsey has a spring concert (and solo!) coming up.  She sings in the choir and plays clarinet.  She’s so, “whatevs!” about the solo.  I was not so brave.  It’s pretty cool.

William is trying to qualify for States in the 400 and his last meet is coming up.  You don’t know what a big deal this is.  I had to beg him to join track (really, any sport, but track was the easiest sell) in the first place and really coach him to get excited about it.  Now to have him even remotely interested (and it’s more than remotely!) in qualifying for States???  It’s so fun.  There’s not a sport I am more excited about watching the kids in than track.  It’s a bit selfish, really.  Wish him luck!

I roped Steve into watching this summer’s Bachelorette with me.  He was hemming and hawing a bit (a really little bit, probably just to save his game face) but pretty decent first episode, eh?  I could not believe Ice Age had a cameo appearance trying to get back on the show.  Now that’s Bachelorette, Bachelor Pad, and a tiny and semi-embarassing attempt to get on yet another Bachelorette.  Chris, please find a day-job.  Finally, my favorite contestant so far is Eric.  (So, you can imagine, how bummed I was to learn right away that not only does he not become the final one but that he also passed away since the show was taped.  What a sad story.)

What else?  Summer plans are sort of being made though very much up in the air still.  I’m craving 80 degrees and the beach.  And, let’s see, happy Memorial Day weekend!

travel series, no. 1: ruth’s guide to providence, RI.

Here’s Ruth to tell us a little bit about where she lives and what she loves about it.  Thanks Ruth!
A year and a half ago, I needed a change. I left my tiny hometown in middle-of-nowhere Connecticut and found a less-than-ideal job in Providence – anything to go somewhere new. I only knew one person in the entire city and didn’t have a place to live, but I got brave and made it happen – and I’m so glad I did. I’m now running my calligraphy Etsy shop and working for a local photographer, as well as doing outreach for a public education center at Brown University. I’m secretly a little happy that not everyone has discovered just how creative, hip, progressive, and fun Providence is just yet – when they do, it’s going to go wild! You can find me on my blog, Etsy shop, Instagram, and Facebook.
Some things Ruth loves in Providence:
The Columbus Theatre is a historic music venue on the west side. It’s gorgeous from the outside, gorgeous on the inside, and they find the raddest bands ever. It wasn’t operating for a few years and just recently reopened – I want everyone I know to come here!

Click for more!


The best little Mexican place in Providence is Lola’s. It’s right on the Providence River with a stunning view of the Providence River Bridge, especially at night. Their house margarita (“The Lola,” appropriately) is always $4 and sitting by the water is the perfect Providence experience.

Surprisingly, I haven’t met many Rhode Islanders who are aware of Raffa Yoga’s Urban Sweat – which is heartbreaking, because it’s so glorious. Multiple saunas, a mediation room, water beds for napping, a eucalyptus steam room, a juice and raw food bar – you can pay the entrance fee and literally stay all day long. Heaven.



Up on College Hill, Prospect Park (and its huge statue of Roger Williams) overlooks the city and is a great place to bring a picnic or do a mini photo shoot.
On my first ever visit to Providence, before I moved here, I Yelped all the great places and serendipitously discovered Wildflour. It’s the sweetest little café that serves fresh juices and vegan/raw/gluten free treats. Their “raw-reo” (yes, a raw Oreo!) was the first thing I ever tried and I will always be in love with it!

Rapid-fire questions:
// how long have you lived in Providence?
A little over a year.  
// It’s Saturday morning and you’re starving. Where do you go?
Hands down, Nick’s on Broadway. Best brunch anywhere, ever. 
// It’s Saturday night and you’re looking for fun. Where do you go?
 A show at the Columbus or dancing at Local 121. 
// And finally, it’s Sunday and you need to work off yesterday’s food. What do you do?
Shri Yoga, an urban revitalization yoga studio, or Lincoln Woods for a hike.

Thank you so much, Ruth!

Any other Providence tips?  Leave them in the comments!  And if you’d like to contribute to the series, email (itsahuntlife@gmail.com) me with the subject TRAVEL SERIES and the place.  Thank you! 

Home fries.

I initially was going to call this recipe “Mom-Mom’s hash browns” because, am I mistaken, there is not such a heated home fries vs. hash browns debate where I grew up (southern New Jersey, for those who are newer here.  Philadelphia area, not like the reality TV show).  In fact, my gut reaction, and what I say when I’m making these for breakfast, or dinner like I did tonight, is to say hash browns.  According to Google, that’s not right, and really the word hash in and of itself implies a more soft and mushy food than the above, so, wash my mouth out with soap cause I’ve been saying it wrong all this time.
Or maybe I say them interchangeably?  I think I’m giving myself too much credit.
When we go out for breakfast, a bacon, egg, and cheese on an English muffin (not bagel, not toast!) and a side of hash browns, dammit, home fries is my go-to.  It feels responsible but also unbelievably satisfying.  One out of every ten times I do something crazy (it’s so crazy–read on and see!) and order  pancakes.  Pancakes!  I usually want to go to sleep after that, and for a very, very long time, so in order to not sleep half my weekend away, I usually stick to my eggs.  But, when it comes to the home fries, I feel a little bit like a food snob when I question the waitress.  I do it with that “I’m so sorry I’m doing this to you” look on my face the whole time, which makes it a little bit better?  Are the home fries here crispy?  Do they fry onions with them?  I nervously glance around at the other tables of patrons, hoping someone ordered the home fries, because one look of theirs will usually answer my questions.  I usually go ahead and order; two questions and/or shifty eyes without ultimately ordering food-in-question is just more than I can bear.  But, I am disappointed at least 80% of the time.  What is it about restaurant home fries?  Why can they not get them right?  Why do they so often not use onions?  Why do they think a softish potato cube equals a home fry?  Why, pray tell, are my home fries red?  (Paprika has no business being on home fries.)

I’m sorry if you’re a restaurant owner who gets home fries right.  Or a restaurant owner who thinks you get home fries right.

Alright, I’m off my home-fry-high-horse now.  Promise.

Point is, I make them well, and I make them just like my Mom-Mom did.  She had food down pat. From your basic mashed potato to your peach cobbler, her food was delicious and full of fat and there was never a table you were more delighted to be at than hers.  She never actually provided the recipe for me, nor did I ever painstakingly watch her make them, but they taste the same so I think years of eating her home fries had spoiled my taste buds to the point that I had to figure it out.  And while I don’t really think home fries are a recipe one needs to put on their blog, I also do.  Because, there’s a lot of not-so-good home fries out there.

So here’s how I do it, in paragraph form because that just feels more natural when talking about something as cozy and buttery as home fries.  I use russet or yukon gold and, do you know, I can’t really decide which I like better.  If you’re forcing me to pick, I think the yukon gold (or yellow potatoes?  Same thing?).  They have a naturally more buttery flavor to them, but there are times where my eyes roll back in my head because they’re so good and those will also be times when I’ve used russet, so it’s really just whatever I have.  Don’t make me pick.  Now let’s say we’re making them for four people.  That’s roughly five to six potatoes, give or take, depending on size.  I start by melting at least a half a stick of butter.  Don’t scoff at that (because, read on, I’ll add more still.).  I dice up a yellow onion, and one to two of them depending on size or how onion-chocked you like your home fries.  Sauté the onions in your melted butter, medium-low heat.  You don’t want them to burn but you do want them really golden and a few slightly crispy-almost-burnt.  Sauté them for a few minutes and then add your potatoes.  The thickness of the potatoes will really determine your cook time.  I like to go on the thin side so that there’s more surface area per potato for the crispiness.  That sounded awful scientific, didn’t it?  They should all be roughly the same.  So now, you’ve added your potatoes and you’ll be tempted to stir too often, but the key to getting the crispy, brown sides is to let them sit.  Don’t stare at them, but don’t go too far away from the kitchen either.  Give a stir, then let them sit for a few minutes.  I vary the heat between medium low and medium here.  If anything’s going to burn, it’ll be your onions.  Careful not to let that happen.  Occasionally, I’ll eye the potatoes and think they look too dry–all the butter’s been absorbed by them–and add another tablespoon or two of butter.  If they’re not looking crispy enough, up your heat a little bit.  From start to finish, my home fries take me at least a half hour, the majority of this time is them just sitting and cooking and doing their thing with your occasional stir, nudging them towards their eventual crispiness.

Once they’re cooked, half hour to forty five minutes, add a few cranks of good salt.  Be liberal here.  And then, our much preferred method of eating, is a big pile of hot home fries on your plate, a generous shredding of cheddar atop it, and then two fried eggs on top of that.  Steve remembers the Clocktower Inn in Vail (which, I don’t believe exists anymore?) serving that very breakfast in individual cast iron pans.  He’d devour it before a long day of skiing.  We’ll eat it for breakfast or dinner and it’s always delicious, with or without the skiing.

Pizza.

About a month ago, I bought three of those bagged Trader Joe’s pizza doughs–two white, one wheat–a big ball of good mozzarella, pizza sauce, and peppers?  I think that’s it.  I wanted to try my hand at making real pizza, as real as store-bought (though, still raw… so sort of “real”) pizza dough can get.  Steve likes his with peppers and onions, I like it plain, and William and Lindsey fall somewhere in between.  Before this little venture of mine, pizza at home was Red Baron.  And, while I’m something of a foodie (50% foodie?), I can still very much appreciate (and even crave) a slightly over-cooked Red Baron pizza.  
So, I spread out the flour, I got out the dough, and I put my hands to work.  Spreading and stretching and trying my best to get something that resembled a circle.  It was oval at best, and with each attempt to stretch, it shrank back as soon as my fingers left it.  What the heck.  I decided, “This will just not be a very large pizza, then.”  I decided the pizza can have this victory, but perhaps victory will ultimately be mine when I sink my teeth into a still-delicious pizza.  I spread out the sauce, topped it with the cheese, a sprinkle of Italian seasonings, and called it good.  Into the oven it went.  What came out was… really not very good.  You’re surprised, aren’t you?  It was going so well?  I can’t even really describe it accurately, or what was wrong with it.  The dough?  My oven?  It wasn’t deliciously crispy and thin, the way I prefer my pizza to be.  Sure, it was cooked dough, and it was hot sauce and melted cheese but delicious?  Worth eating?  We, unanimously, threw most of it away.  Ate cucumbers and carrots for dinner?  I don’t know.
I decided we will just be a family that eats pizza out or eats Red Baron in.  Smacked my hands together, and that was that.  I was defeated but quickly recovered because there’s still good pizza to be eaten.  Just not cooked by these hands.  Plenty of hands are good at it, let them be the pizza-makers!
Fast forward: last night I went to see Molly Wizenberg speak in Wellesley.  During the Q&A portion, someone asked her how Brandon came to create the pizza he makes today at Delancey.  She explained that it required a lot of pizza eating, and a lot of questions to the generous and gracious lot that are the pizza-experts.  I’m paraphrasing.  She explained that it was a process of fermenting that he picked up from a pizza place in New Mexico and knowledge on the saltiness of it all from a pizza place in Brooklyn plus an accidental water-doubling in their very own kitchen that, together, came to be the pizza they make today in their restaurant.  All told, two years of experimentation.
I made pizza once.  (From someone else’s dough.)  
And then gave up.
That is ridiculous, Bridget, I thought to myself.  Get back on that horse.  Make your own damn pizza!  

So here I am.  I’m going to get back on that horse and try again.  Two years of trying?  Probably not, but I’ve got at least two more tries in me.  I want it thin, I want it crispy.  I want it similar to what you find in Italy, not Chicago.  I don’t want it to be a floppy, soggy mess when I pick it up.  Will my semi-crappy-prone-to-hot-spots oven even output a decent pizza?  Will I screw up the yeast?  Do I have to ferment it?  Will it shrink every time I try to spread it?  What is the best pizza sauce?  What flour should I use?  What do you cook it on?  How tricky is this?  Will it kill me?
Help.
Seriously, help.
{Picture from Ashley who obviously does not need my advice on perfecting an at-home pizza and who also used the word “easy” when describing the dough-making but I think she’s lying.}

Mother’s Day.

For Mother’s Day, we went into Boston beginning with brunch with friends in the seaport area, and ending up in Beacon Hill for a late lunch and ice cream.  In between we moseyed all around the city, on one of the most beautiful days yet.
For brunch, we ate eggs and blueberry waffles and coffee and orange juice and then, once we had sufficiently walked that off, we made our way to the gardens.  Everything is in full bloom and everyone was out to enjoy it.  Then we went to, our favorite, Paramount.  We took our food to go, opting for picnicking on the garden.  And finally, some JP Licks for dessert, which Parker slept right through.  
It was a really special day.  Being a mother is about my favorite gig in the whole world and these kids mean the world to me.  I am the luckiest.  Hope you all had a wonderful weekend.

Drumlin Farm, no. 2.

Almost exactly a year ago, I took Parker to Drumlin Farm for the first time.  We loved it then, we loved it this time.  It’s a sweet place, with dirt and shovels for kids to play, tractor rides, cows, chickens, and baby goats (!!), and pretty grounds to stroll on.  We met Rachael and Shelby there and the kids had a blast.  The Mom-company was pretty great too.  Shelby and I have been following one another for awhile, but this was our first time hanging out.  If you didn’t already know, she’s awesome.  
After we were spent with Drumlin, we drove down the road to Dairy Joy.  Sandwiches, smoothies, fries.  It was delicious.  And it was a gorgeous day too.  Sun stayed out nearly all day and layers could come off.  Farm, food, sun.  I could stand to repeat this day.
Have a good weekend, friends!
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