Coming along nicely...

I recently wrote about my preparations for my Germany/Austria trip and the things I wanted to accomplish before leaving. With less than three weeks to go, here's how I'm doing with my list.

Goal 1: Find the perfect bag.

I found one that's pretty nearly perfect. The Rick Steves Civita bag is a backpack made of soft, light, tough fabric and it's super roomy. I took it to Idlewild a couple of times and I was impressed. Plus it's got tons of pockets for staying super organized. I consider this goal accomplished.

Goal 2: Learn a bit of German so that I have a base to build upon when we get there.

Epic fail. The only German I know is the one swear word I picked up from watching Run Lola, Run and the words to a beer drinking song my friend from work sent me. Since I have zero plans to be frustrated on my trip or to consume the troughs of beer they serve at Oktoberfest, I doubt I'll need either.

You know what I'm talking about.

Goal 3: Learn how to better use my Nikon.

I'm reading my Nikon Guide and making progress, but I'd like to do better here. Kristen, are you giving any classes in the next two weeks?

Goal 4: Establish a packing plan that Rick Steves would, if not be proud of, at least not sneer at.

I'm proud to report through the judicious use of packing cubes and the vicious slashing of my packing list, I might just possibly carry-on my luggage for 8 days in Europe. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd be able to do that. We'll see...

Four years old.

Happy birthday to my sweet little pumpkin.

Photo credit: Kristen Gibson

Fair warning.

Today my sweet little niece is starting Pre-K. I may have a breakdown.

Hola! Vamanos! Me estoy volviendo loco.

This really is an outrageous level of enthusiasm.

I'm currently watching episodes of Dora the Explorer in order to get ideas for a treasure hunt I'm creating for Julia's birthday party. Things I have gleaned thus far:

1. Dora really does scream every single word she says. If she were ever in serious danger, I doubt she could communicate her peril to anyone because her alarm would just sound like her regular voice.

2. Dora encourages her young viewers to become screamers themselves. They have to yell things like "Map!" and "Backpack!" at the screen constantly. Frankly, it's exhausting.

3. Swiper the fox is easily deterred from his kleptomanic ways. He simply stops when he is told to. Hardly a worthy opponent.

4. Three episodes in a row of this is my limit. It does not have the charm of Fraggle Rock.

It's hard to be menacing when you're dressed like a Wonder Twin.

So tonight I finally sat down to watch a DVD Brian lent me, The Warriors. Brian loves this movie and has since he was a kid. And it is a movie with a huge cult following. However, Melis would describe this film by using word "crap" as every possible part of speech. I hesitate to comment on something that has been the lynchpin of disagreement in their marriage, but this cannot be ignored.

I actually really like the premise. This group of guys has to get from the Bronx to Coney Island (and that is a looong way, babies) with every gang in the city gunning for them. Good premise, lots of potential. The execution, though? Oh no. This film was written, directed, and most importantly costumed by someone who has absolutely no idea what the term "street gang" means.

The film opens with footage of various "gangs" making their way to the Bronx for a gang meeting. I sensed something was amiss when I saw the guys in the hot pink sequined vests, but my suspicions were confirmed by the appearance of a gang of mimes in white pancake make-up, suspenders, and top hats.

Take a moment and let that sink in.

The only thing missing were the little robot silhouettes at the bottom of the screen. Three minutes into the film and the director had already lost me.

But then! We see the gang conference, where approximately 179 gangs of 9 guys each have converged in the Bronx for a smorgasbord of costume delight. We have the gang in jaunty French striped boatneck shirts, the gang in skin-tight purple unitards with matching knit caps, and the gang who goes shirtless and wears porkpie hats. And let us not forget "the most powerful gang in the city." To flaunt their authority they choose to attire themselves in... flowing silk robes.

I have news for you, gentleman. The Bloods are going to kill you all.

Look, I am sympathetic to the poor woman who had to come up with dozens of individual types of gang attire for this scene, but the moment she gave me the face-painted dudes in the baseball uniforms and the guys in the sheepskin vests, I entered the realm of the ridiculous and there was no clawing my way back.

People, this is the type of thing I am dealing with:

You know you look ridiculous, right?

Supremes de Volaille aux Champignons

Well, this one was rough. To be honest, when I started my scheme to cook one meat meal per month in 2011, I thought to myself, "I'll probably never make it to chicken." Chicken is, to me, the most terrifying of all the raw meats. It looks revolting and it's squishy and disgusting. Just picking up the package to put it into my cart was a saga. And that was only the beginning...

Thus far, every meat meal I've done was begun with trepidation and ended with me admitting that it wasn't all that terrifying after all. Not so with the chicken breasts, or "supremes" as the French call them. This was every bit as horrifying as I feared it would be and more. The worst part is that I have three chicken breasts left in my fridge and I just don't think I have the strength to try another meal with them.

I got this recipe from Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. I was drawn to it because of a scene in Julie and Julia where Julie makes the dish. It just looked so mouthwatering. It's the scene where she learns, "Don't crowd the mushrooms. Otherwise they won't brown."


This is a Julia recipe, so of course we start with lots of butter.


I couldn't bear to photograph the raw chicken. Just know I was squealing in horror and disgust as I maneuvered them into the skillet. I briefly considered throwing away the tongs I was using, but I only just got them and they're really nice. But here's a shot of the beautiful sliced mushrooms in bubbling butter.


Then I added in heavy cream and Madeira wine, which I got carded when purchasing (yay!)


After the sauce thickened, I popped the cooked supremes back into the sauce. Julia's instructions said to spoon the sauce over them, but in the movie Julie nestled them into the sauce and it looked delish.


And here's the final product. I was so stressed from dealing with raw chicken that I didn't even make a vegetable.

It was really delicious, but I don't know if I can make it again for a few years. That chicken really put me through it. I'm gonna need some time to recover.

It's the little things, people.

Today I was sitting at work, tired and fried, and then I suddenly remembered I had a smuggled piece of banana bread from Sarah's wedding in my camera bag, and I couldn't wait to get home. Brightened my outlook right up.

Sometimes that's all it takes.