Loving the SOUTH again - Overton Square

I arrived in AR Christmas night and so far have been treated to a wonderfully relaxing few days filled with LOVE. We celebrated Christmas on the 26th with a meal of venison, salad, turnips and southern green beans.  We spent a nice post Christmas Saturday afternoon and early evening in Memphis. We found this small theater that had produced an incredible production of Peter Pan, something we watched together on TV a few weeks ago despite being 1200 miles apart. We went for dinner at Boscos Brewpub, which is the oldest brewpub in TN and then played pool at RP Billiards in East Memphis before heading back across the river to the Legion for more pool, live music and dancing. What an awesome way to spend any Saturday, especially a rainy one. 

Playhouse on the Square - FM rating 12+++ 

This little theatre was an incredible space and the cast, sets, production we saw filled that space to overflowing. This is a MUST see!!!

Boscos Brewing - FM rating 8

Overall the beer was ok ( some fantastic, some ehh... ) and the food edible in this classic brewpub in a tourist area. My favorite was the Alt, which was a seasonal German a style ale. 

RP Billards - FM rating 8.5 

We had fun here. Pool was $1.00 game or $8./hr. The beer on tap was somewhat pedestrian but they did have a few crafts. 

Minnie Pearl, buttermilk biscuits and mindfulness

In the past 6 months, as I navigate my new situation, I have spent a great deal of time soul searching. Mindfulness has been one of those things that I have really taken the time to develop, from meditating for an hour a day to dressing out an animal that I took the life to provide sustenance in the form of a wonderfully sexy meal.  In that time, the HBG and I have discussed family quite a bit. There is a soulfulness to our friendship that seems to remind each other of our grandmothers. My grandmother, Edith (MeMe) was a concert pianist, very much into the opera, classical music and art. His grandmother, I am told was this wonderful witty down to earth woman with an infectious personality who made these incredible buttermilk biscuits and never understood why he seemed to be attracted to girls from the Northeast. Here I am, a NYer (giggle). Somewhere in those discussions there was this quest to learn how to learn how to make biscuits. I cook a lot of things well, biscuits were something I really, really, really suck at. I mean show up at the table in goalie gear and a check for the dentist… ok, maybe not that bad, they were edible, but not flaky, and not anything like the biscuits I envisioned. My guru? He was so gracious and ate them anyway. I giggle because later that day he mentions that Minnie Pearl sifted her flour and used lard… I did not sift the flour and used butter. FAST FORWARD to tonight…

Tonight I made a very small pot of venison stew. It was just enough for dinner and to take for lunch. I would be the only one who would be eating tonight. I decided it needed some biscuits and I had some very nice leaf lard from the butcher in the fridge. I took out my own grandmother's favorite cookbook, found a recipe for buttermilk biscuits, and proceeded to make them. I thought about Minnie Pearl and what it might have been like to watch her make biscuits to learn from her. I thought about an encounter I witnessed my extremely impatient soon to be EX had with waiting in line at the mall. I told him that in he would never make it in the South, he would be ignored because of his behavior. There was no need for all that angst, it only invites more stress,  and not the results you would think. I told him to take that minute he has to wait and relish in the time he has been afforded to relax. What does what I had witnessed at the mall yesterday have to do with making biscuits? As I read that recipe, I found myself immediately making these steps in my brain on what had to be done and in what order at 10.000 mph. I was trying to rush the process, baking biscuits in a NY minute was not going to work. I had to "slow down". I did. I slowly went through the steps, followed the recipe to the T, sifting the flour 3X and remeasuring it, measuring the leaf lard using water displacement and the buttermilk with a fluid measuring cup. I thought about how when I learned to make bread correctly, it was a similar experience, slowing down and measuring/weighing exactly, the result was amazing. I rolled out the dough to 1/4 inch thick and cut the biscuits, placed them on a greased sheet, and brushed them with cream . The oven was very hot, 450 degrees and when I put them in to bake, it seemed like within minutes they were over an inch thick. Within 10 minutes I had these incredible, flaky, beautiful rounds that I could actually call biscuits and between my handmade bowl, the stew made from local ingredients and meat that I had procured myself, this meal was one of the most mindful parts of my day. I think I even feel Minnie Pearl's smile from heaven. I am beaming! I only wish the HBG could be here to taste them.

I guess I will just have to practice until then?

My holiday letter fitting for the feast of St. Lucia

I'm officially 50, shhhh don't tell anyone! My birthday celebration was 10 days long with the HBG being present for all of it and he made sure it was perfect! We went to the opera, ate at WoHop downstairs at 2AM, tooled around the village, visiting Greenwich House Pottery,  Bleeker Street Pizza, City Island, ate Oysters, went to the beach, and my kids threw me an incredible party, I spent Thanksgiving in Arkansas, picked Pecans, went to see the Christmas Story at the Orpheum, played pool in two states, got really wasted on moonshine, danced a lot, went to the Brooks Art Museum and this awesome steakhouse for dinner. Yes, I even had a sloppy version of messy sex for breakfast on my birthday (get your mind out of the gutter) before flying home first class (hey you only turn 50 once).
I am posting this letter dedicated to the HBG on the feast of St. Lucia in honor of our friendship for several reasons (some I care not to share). You see,  a few months ago we had a conversation about family heritage and traditions while discussing pierogi and how I came to know how to make them as well as my dislike of pork…except that I have been known to sneak kielbasa slices occasionally. My family is steeped in ethnic traditions, possibly because the intimate connection with Europe is still there. We are proud of both our Polish and German heritage. I learned how to polka before I was 8 and make pierogi, understand the complexities of sauerbraten (why my mom had a crock of pungent veal in the closet next to the cereal) and expected lebkuken, nuts and clementines in my stocking from the time I understood there was something to expect. I feel so fortunate that I have these traditions to hold onto. He on the other hand wishes he knew more about his Norwegian heritage. The feast of St. Lucia is big in Norway and since the Christmas dinner we have planned has taken on a Norwegian theme thanks to my favorite venison tenderloin recipe being Norwegian, I figured it was never to late to introduce someone to what they might expect. Yes I said Christmas dinner. I am sharing Wiligia (Christmas Eve) with my family at home and then after a brunch of Kielbasa, eggs, poppyseed bread and pierogis I will be headed to the airport with a few beautiful cuts of venison from my first deer frozen in my bag to spend the rest of my Christmas break in Arkansas. So on the menu, tenderloin of course, lefse, lingonberry, some kind of vegetable, a spinach salad and rice pudding (yes complete with the hidden almond - wink). The cocktail however will be German. I do like mulled wine, but can never get it to taste right so we will be having Hugos instead (perseco, st germain, and muddled mint).

 Learning to embrace traditions is only part of it, I am also dedicating this post to him in honor of his brother Tracey, who passed away a few days ago. In the past year I have learned about the importance of the relationship of siblings as I watched my children navigate their own pain as well as lean on each other while trying to figure out how to ease the pain I was experiencing. I have also realized how wonderfully insightful and important my brother is. While I never met Tracey, I felt this connection to him while watching the HBG navigate the journey of his last days.

I want to talk about my year and why the HBG has meant so much to me. Three years ago we spent a great deal of time together when our boys found themselves training together in Utah that summer and we lived with the same family. We were instant friends and talked quite frequently after that summer. Last year at this time I was getting the family ready to go to Utah to Olympic Trials, and I was so excited to have the opportunity to visit with him in person again. He joined us every day for the 10 day trip to support Chris and his effort to make the team. Shortly upon returning home, I learned that my home life as I knew it was going to change forever. My husband admitted to a double life and despite wanting to "work it out" he let me bend over backwards while he continued to play, with her. I had trouble sharing this with anyone really and became somewhat introverted. However, one day, the HBG called me to try to figure out why I was all of the sudden so distant. I broke down and cried on the phone as I was shopping for a date night dress that day in Macy's. I wanted to be sexy and beautiful, only I felt that I didn't know much about how to be a girl. He listened, as I told him what was going on, no input, just support. Then, he helped me find a dress. Over the next few months, he listened through my fear, heartache, anger, and frustration. He offered me weekend refuge when he knew I needed it. He encouraged me to believe I was beautiful, and sexy, which was something I was never told by my husband. He let me call him at 2:30 AM crying, he extended the most gentle, kind and considerate personality I have ever known from anyone. He was the one friend who ran pass interference from the start. He knew what I needed and took a risk by stepping up to help. He has seen me at my worst this year. He has helped me to find my best. My year was made manageable because of the love of a very good friend. He will forever be in my heart!!! I often feel like he has 1200 mile long arms!!!

My year has been both a challenge and a joy of firsts. I am not sure what my future single life will bring but I do know he will always be in it.

Things I am grateful for? My family, my friends (especially the HBG and his family who have welcomed me with a warm hug, wonderful hospitality, and beautiful smiles), and yes even for my soon to be ex (for releasing me from this mediocre life that I was trying to make the best of) Getting to know and love the South. A love of green tomato soup, boiled turnips and spinach salad. Learning to say PECAHHHN. Playing pool, jumping off cliffs and chasing brownies with a BUD. Having someone to share cultural things such as the opera with. Those BOOTS!

Firsts: a solo cross country drive, green tomato soup, killing and dressing a rabbit, killing and dressing a deer, learning and loving to wear dresses, real moonshine. loving myself!

OK for the FM ratings:

The Metropolitan Opera, Lincoln Center, NYC   FM rating 12+++
Everyone should get dressed up and go to the opera at this grande opera house at least once in their life.

WoHop downstairs- 17 Mott Street, NYC FM rating 10++
This is CLASSIC Chinese at its best. Late night crowded is the plus!

Bleeker Street Pizza - 69 7th Ave, NYC FM rating 10
Seating can be an issue as this place is tiny. Pizza is great!

Greenwich House Pottery FM 12+++
Ok this is an outstanding clay center need I say more?

Orpheum Theater Memphis FM rating 10++
Not a bad seat in the house and adult sippy cups

Brooks Museum of Art Memphis FM rating 9
Small and manageable

Majestic Steakhouse Memphis FM rating 8.5
food was great but is was a bit pretentious and expensive- sit at the bar!!!