Happy Valentine's Day!

Well, I'm off today from Jury Duty, yahoo. I was "tagged" for the next two weeks, today being my first day. I call a number the evening before to see if my "lot" is needed. It wasn't today, so that was my gift from above for Valentine's.

You must go visit Shelley's blog, especially the entry linked here. She has the most wonderful traditions. Please read her latest post on the origins for Valentine's Day while you're there. I have yet to try any of her recipes, but they all look so yummy.

Off to run errands. Will post later when I get to making my cards. (I went out yesterday to an antique store and purchased a couple old Valentine post cards to make into something.....don't know what yet!) As usual, waiting 'til the last minute!! Arrivederci, i miei amori piccoli.

Sweets for the Sweet

With Valentine's Day tomorrow, I thought I better get in gear and make something sweet for the kids. I decided upon my take on the old NY black & white cookie. I love them because they're really not quite a cookie and really not quite a cake, kinda in between. We always enjoy them whenever we get time in NYC--which is rare since the inlaws moved further Upstate.

The traditional NY B&Ws are HUGE, usually enough for one, two, three or even four people to enjoy. They have vanilla icing on one side and chocolate icing on the other. I made mine a lot smaller; and instead of the traditional (perfect harmony) vanilla and chocolate icing, I used a pourable fondant with a speck of almond extract. I also added a little lemon oil to the cookie dough just for a little flavo-flave. They turned out pretty good. The kids are loving them, so that's all that matters.

NY COOKIES ADAPTED FOR VALENTINE'S

• 1 1/4 C all-purpose flour
• 1/2 t baking soda
• 1/2 t salt
• 1/3 C well-shaken buttermilk
• 1/2 t vanilla
• 1/8 t lemon oil
• 7 T unsalted butter, softened
• 1/2 C granulated sugar
• 1 extra-large egg

Preheat oven to 350 degrees f. Whisk together flour, baking soda and salt in small bowl. Stir together buttermilk, vanilla and lemon in cup.
Beat together butter and sugar in a large bowl with electric mixer until well mixed. Add egg and beat well. Add the flour and buttermilk mixtures to this, alternating between each, mix just until smooth.

Drop rounded teaspoons of batter on buttered baking sheet at least one inch apart. Bake 8-10 minutes until tops are puffed and edges are golden. Transfer to cooling rack. (Put wax paper under racks so it will be an easy clean up.)
Pourable Fondant Icing

• 6 C confectioners' sugar, sifted (seems like a lot, but it's right)

• 1/2 C water

• 2 T light corn syrup

• 1 t almond extract

Heat ingredients in saucepan on low heat. Stir constantly until it reaches a temp of 92 degrees f. Mixture should be thin enough to pour but thick enough to coat cookies. If it's too thin, let it cool while you stir.
Turn cookies over so the flat sides are up. (I had to brush off some crumbs to make the bottoms smooth.) Using a big spoon, pour icing over cookies, one at a time, while still on the rack. Excess will drip onto the wax paper.

For my "hearts," I saved a little extra icing in the pan, added some red paste food coloring and reheated. I took a teaspoon and dropped a little in the center of a cookie and used a toothpick to "pull" the red down into a point at the bottom. It cools and stiffens pretty quickly, so only do one at a time. Fun, fun, fun!!!

Hot Cocoa

The kids came running in yesterday after playing in the almost-melted snow soaked to the bone. There were two boys aged 11 and 12 and then two little tag alongs probably about 5. I'm so used to having boys around, it's always such a joy to see the cute little cherub faces of little girls. They are so sweet and full of smiles. Of course, I was prepared for this moment. Since I was brought up in DC, it comes naturally to run to the grocers and "stock up" on the staples after the first words "snow in the forecast" are spoken. So, I had stocked up on the several gallons of milk knowing I would be making hot cocoa and because the teenager drinks it like it's going out of style.

I make my hot chocolate with the addition of some Mexican chocolate Ibarra. Williams Sonoma used to sell it, but I didn't see it on their website this time. Perhaps the stores still carry it. It lasts forever since you really don't need a whole lot and a box comes with about 5 or 6 "cakes." I always warm the milk first in a saucepan and add chocolate syrup (I grew up on Hershey's; therefore, I use Hershey's). I then use a cake of Ibarra and grate as much as I like into the pot. It has sugar, cinnamon and almonds (I think) in it, so I just grate until it tastes good. I, of course, always add a dribble of vanilla extract to top it off. Now, if you were in Mexico, you would use a "molinillo," a beautiful piece of woodwork that acts like a whisk. I use the good old-fashioned metal whisk to get the milk nice and frothy. Unfortunately, this cocoa didn't stay too frothy because I used 2% milk. If you use whole milk and a little cream, oh boy, talk about froth.

I had bought some of those fancy schmancy marshmallows at Williams Sonoma before Thanksgiving for Bubba Jim and family. I never even opened them. So, I thought I better pull them out and use them before they weren't any good. The marshmallows are HUGE and square, so I cut them up into eighths. I used little mugs for little people, so little marshmallows were in order. Well, after having a cup myself, I have to say that I wasn't too impressed with these really expensive marshmallows. Even the chocolate ones, which I thought would be delish, were a let down. From now on, I'm sticking to the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man! The tiny ones are the best.

Of course, the kids didn't mind. The huge square marshmallows were a bigger treat than the hot cocoa. Oh well. You know kids--you never know kids.....grin.

Oh NO, I'm Melting..........

I Stayed Up Way Too Late Tonight......

I'm giddy, again, because it's really snowing outside! I'm too excited to sleep so I've just been on the computer "surfing." Every one else is fast asleep, so I have nothing to do. I found these on a blog and thought they were kinda fun so I had to try them, of course. Silly, I know, but what the hell.

You Are The Fool

You are a fascinating person who is way beyond the concerns of this world. Young at heart, you are blissfully unaware of any dangers ahead. You are a true wanderer - it has be difficult finding your place in this world. Full of confidence, you are likely to take a leap of faith. Your fortune: You are about to embark on a new phase in your life. This may mean changing locations, jobs, friends, or love status. You are open about what the future will bring, and free of worry. You have made your peace with fate, and you're ready to start down your new path.

What Tarot Card Are You?

I put this up because I AM the fool.....plus the fact that this looks like me in my Brownie suit long, long ago--missing my beanie because I lost it.

You Are French Food

Snobby yet ubiquitous. People act like they understand you more than they actually do.

What Kind of Food Are You?

I blame my brother, Jim, for this. If you've read any of my recipe posts, you know him. (I had to look up ubiquitous--See Fool, above.)

Your Blogging Type is Kind and Harmonious

You're an approachable blogger who tends to have many online friends. People new to your blogging circle know they can count on you for support. You tend to mediate fighting and drama. You set a cooperative tone. You have a great eye for design - and your blog tends to be the best looking on the block!

What's Your Blogging Personality?

....and I thought this was sweet. (See Fool, above.)





Later.............I ran across this (also fun) web page "So You Wanna Read Tea Leaves." I think I really must have been a nomadic gypsy in my previous life. The hub would say "Previous life? Ha, that's a laugh!" He would also say, "See Fool, above."

Think I better hit the hay and dream of the snow. 'Night.

Chocolate Chip Cookies ala Rosa

I used to love coming home from school and smelling something good cooking in the oven. Today, I thought I would treat the boys to the aroma of my chocolate chip cookies baking. These are the teenager's all-time favorites and I haven't made them in a couple of months. Oh well, it's the thought that counts, right? The teenager, plus one and the kid made it home before the cookies were put in the oven. They were treated to some nice hot tea while they waited for the cookies, so they were still happy. As they say "it's all good."

I had bought this wonderful afternoon tea at Fortnum & Mason when I was in London last. It is the most delicious tea I have ever had. It's good enough by itself; but add a little sugar and cream, and oohlala. You'll be in heaven. I had bought the teenager this single tea pot for Christmas since he is an avid green tea drinker ever since his trip to China. I think I use it more than him, the truth be known. You put in the loose tea, add boiling water, let it steep and then place it over your cup. It drains into your cup leaving the leaves in the pot. It's nice and easy to use and clean up. It comes in pretty colors but, of course, it had to be black for the teenager. I used the last of my afternoon tea; so I will be taking my tin to the local tea merchant to mix some new, as best we can, to get that same flavor. Or, I'll just have to fly to London to grab some more tins, whatchya think?

As far as my recipe goes, it's basically the recipe off the bag of Nestle's semi-sweet morsels for their Toll House Cookies. I've changed and added a few things over the years that make them mmmmm mmmmmm good. Of course, I use my brother Jim's homemade vanilla and the fresh pecans he brought down at Thanksgiving that I've had in the freezer. (If I know him, he orders them fresh from Georgia, just like my mom, and shells them himself.) I make my cookies big because the guys like them that way. But, I always make a good dozen a wee bit smaller so I can send a plate next door to our friends--don't want them to think we're "pigs." They enjoy them as much as we do.

Rosa's Chocolate Chip Cookies

• 2 1/4 C all-purpose flour
• 3/4 t baking soda
• 1 t salt
• 2 sticks unsalted butter, melted
  
• 3/4 C granulated sugar
• 3/4 C packed brown sugar (I use some of both dark and light)
• 2 t vanilla extract
• 2 extra large eggs
• 1 1/3 C old fashioned oats, or more if you like them "oaty"
• 4 handfulls of halfed pecans, cracked (or less if you like)
  
• 2 C semi-sweet chocolate morsels

Preheat oven to 360 degrees. Combine flour, baking soda and salt in small bowl. Beat butter, sugars and vanilla in large mixer until creamy--about 3 minutes. Add eggs one at a time and beat well after each. Gradually beat in flour mixture. Stir in oats, pecans (I crack the halves again before I throw them in) and chips. Drop by rounded tablespoons (and I do mean tablespoons) onto ungreased baking sheet. (We like less oats, more pecans and more chocolate chips. You can, of course, adjust to your liking.)


Bake for 15-20 minutes, depending on how you like them--crispy or soft.

I hope you try them and enjoy them. I think ours are already almost gone! Yum!

It Was a LUSH-Kinda Night

. . . . or was it a Calgon moment? It was so cold last night, I decided to draw myself a bath to warm the bones. And, of course, it was not your regular kind of bath. I figure it's such an ordeal to prepare a bath these days, for me anyway (and clean up the huge "soaking" tubs of today), I may as well make it worth my while. Ever since I found LUSH, I've been addicted to the stuff. I put in a bomb (for the effervescence), I put in a melt (for the oil), I put in a crumble of bubbles (just for the fun of it) and I kept the shower jellies close (for the cleanin'). I've always had a keen sense of smell and associate memorable "moments" with certain smells. Here's my smelly LUSH story.

The hub had business in the UK; and, of course, I had to go. Any opportunity I get to go to Europe, I jump at it. The trip began in London and then lead up through Nottingham and then further North to Scotland. We decided to be adventuresome and rent a car and drive it. I say "we" like we drove. HE drove. I co-piloted, all the way! They must see us idiot Americans coming. Two deer in the headlights, panicking at every roundabout for sure. "Stay to the left but watch the curb, watch the ditch, enter roundabout to the left, exit at 2 o'clock, OMG, we missed it, again!" Funny stuff. The hub was totally drained the first day of driving. After he slept on it though, it was a breeze. Funny how the brain works. Anyway, we make it to Edinburgh, alive. The hub had business in the Outer Hebrides with the Harris Tweed folks--the rag man that he is. (Take a read, there's wonderful history in all that wool.) Talk about trains, planes and automobiles; it was quite an ordeal for him to get up there. It was all business meetings, so I stayed in the city. Of course I didn't mind a day of shopping and sightseeing without the hub. (He refuses to sightsee, bah humbug!)

As I'm walking up Princes Street, this wonderfully scented waft of air hits me. I followed it right into LUSH. I was in heaven. This is MY kinda stuff. Again, the kid in a candy shop mind set shifted into gear. I tried to be "cool" and not too American as I'm buying everything in the shop. I can't tell you how many POUNDS of bath ballistics, soaps and shampoos I purchased. Having never seen a LUSH store before, I thought I better get it while I can. Let me tell you, when I had to lug my suitcase packed full of all this junk through the train depot and onto the train (we dropped the car off in Edinburgh), I wished I had been a little lighter on the purchasing. You think the story ends there? Uh uh. (My stories seem to go on for-ev-er, don't they!) Well, we get back to London and met up with some friends (Raphael!!) at Convent Garden. There, I encounter the "smell," the LUSH smell, again. I knew that smell this time. It's a very distinct aroma. Right there, around the corner from where we were staying, was a LUSH store. I didn't have to purchase a million pounds of the stuff in Edinburgh and then lug it all the way back down. Oh noooo, I could have waited and just purchased some right there in London. C'est la vie--live and learn.

After that, I would have to "get my fix" through Canada (shhhhhh). There weren't any stores in America yet so I had to be careful. Those costs added up quite quickly with shipping and handling from our Northerly neighbors. It was a lean couple of years unless the hub made a trip overseas and happened upon a LUSH store. He's so sweet. Poor guy, I can't tell you how many times he would stop and shop in order to feed my smelly habit. I've had LUSH from all over the world, thanks to him. Thank you, dear hub.

We didn't get a U.S. store until about four or five years ago. Of course, a year after I moved from DC, one opened in Georgetown. Needless to say when I go "home," I stock up. And, another needless to say, when we were in NYC, I stocked up, as you can see for yourself. They are constantly coming out with new products. My latest fav are the new "shower jellies." It's kind of like a thick soap goo in a small tub. A couple of them are straight out of the jello factory, I think. You have to stick your fingers in the tub and pull out the stuff. It reminds me of finger painting in the bath, ha. I also enjoy when their "paper" arrives in the post. It's a very fun read; almost as fun as their products. But the smells, aw the smells.......they all transport me back to Edinburgh.....sigh.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Yes, that's snow on Rootie, not dandruff. Again with the snow! Today, when mom and I went out to lunch, it was flurrying very finely. I still get giddy with emotion, just like a little kid, when it snows. I had to "high five" mom as we were driving. Yea baby!

It's been so cold this week. Cold here is anything under 40 degrees f. I know, real Southerner. I never wear a coat outdoors, usually a denim shirt with a scarf and that's it--well, pants and shoes, of course, grin. This week, I've felt the nip at my nonwinter-clad body. So yesterday, after getting the kid off to school, I was in the laundry room. I could hear water running. "Hmmm, is a toilet running, did someone leave the faucet on?" Of course, at 6:30 in the morning, the mind tends to run amuck. I go through every bathroom, every sink to see where it's coming from. Nowhere. I go into the storage area in the basement and can feel it running through the main water pipe. Geesh. I start to think, ok, a pipe has burst somewhere, and I will find it....I will find it! I go outside (still in my pjs) to see if any of the hose bibs are running. Nope. It's really starting to worry me after about 15 minutes of checking everything. I think, "Should I just turn the main water off until we figure this out?" No, cause then mom will panic when there's no water. One more place I forgot. The hose bib on the Northern side of the house. Oh, Lord. Yes, there's water out there, for sure. It's running down the neighbors driveway at this point. Joy. Time for the hub to get his butt out of bed and look into the situation. Poor guy...dreaming away....."Get up! We have water running outside the house!" I'm praying the whole time he's out there that it's not a broken pipe, "Please not a broken pipe!" I start to count, thinking the faster he comes in, the less serious it is. It's not long before he's back upstairs in bed. Phew! Ok, you ready for this one? The hose must have been on since the fall (with the hose nozzle turned off, thank God!) and the nozzle froze and burst! I couldn't believe it! We barely dodged that bullet. It just goes to show how efficient (NOT) we are in this family! haha. We ALL pointed fingers at each other, "You must have left it on!" "Nuh uh, it was YOU!" We were laughing at dinner tonight when, in sinc, we all pointed to one another, "Your fault!" Oh well, no harm done, just have to buy another nozzle for the hose. It could have been a lot worse.

Today, one of my errands was to the hardware store (no, not to buy another hose nozzle). They had the sweetest miniature African violets.

Just last week, I had found these two vintage vasoline glass planters. Of course, I bought them; and the violets fit perfectly. You'll see the mini kalanchoe that I bought last year. (They haven't bloomed in quite a while.) And you'll also see my little one-armed gnome. I think my bipolar friend broke his arm off cause he had a pipe in it--go figure. He reminded me of my dad when he had two arms, pout. He's going in the trash today, I don't want to think about her any more. But, the thrill of the day, besides the flurries, was to find an array of primrose!

Last year, I waited too long to get them and I missed out. So, when I saw them today, I quickly picked out five to put in my living room. When spring hits, I'll plant them out front where they come back every year, amazingly. It was a fun day. The kids are hoping to get off school tomorrow. Wishful thinking!

Little Boys Have It Tough

Having two boys of my own, I couldn't resist posting this photo.

Chili Tonight, Hot Tamale

(My dad used to say that.) I was supposed to make this yesterday for dinner, but I ran late in getting everything together so I put it off until tonight. It turned cold again, so it's perfect. I'm glad I waited.

This is an old recipe from Southern Living. It's more of a Southwest Chili with lots of ingredients. I usually serve it over rice. Don't know how that originated, but it's a good mix. Serve with a dollop of sour cream and cheese if you like.

It's such an easy, one-pot recipe. Just be ready to fill your recycle bin with lots of cans! Here 'tis:

• 1 lb. ground beef
• 1 lb. Italian sausage (hot or mild)
  
• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 1 garlic clove
  
• 1 C water
• 1 16 oz. can crushed tomatoes, undrained
• 1 15 oz. can light red kidney beans, undrained
• 1 15 oz. can black beans, drained and rinsed
  
• 1 8 oz. can tomato sauce
• 1 6 oz. can tomato paste
• 1 8 oz. can whole kernel corn, drained
• 1 4 oz. can diced green chiles
• 2-4 T chili powder
• 1 T unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1 t ground cumin or cumin seed
• dash or two of ground red pepper
  

Saute onion and garlic in a little olive oil in stock pot until brown. Add meats and cook until brown and crumbly, drain. Add rest of ingredients and cook 15 minutes. (Add water for the consistency you prefer.)

Pretty simple, eh!

Lemon Blueberry Muffins

I have been craving muffins for weeks now but I haven't had the will to make them. Today, I couldn't wait any longer.

I used a recipe from Williams Sonoma for dried cherry muffins. You used to be able to go into a store and ask to look through their recipe cards and take what you liked home. Today, you have to go online to get them. I guess it's easier that way, but I like having the "card" that fits in my recipe box.

I changed the cherries to blueberries and I added a little lemon oil to the recipe. I also like my muffins with a crumb topping. Since these aren't too sweet, the crumb topping was just perfect. I used American Spoon's dried blueberries which are the best. If you haven't had the chance to try any of their products, I would suggest you go out and find a couple of jars of their marmalades or butters. If you can't find them locally, go to their website. I had the chance to visit their store in Charlevoix, Michigan, a couple of summers ago and I was like a kid in a candy shop. I had to ship boxes of goodies to everyone I knew that would appreciate them. Everything is so good.

Here's the recipe:

• 3/4 C dried blueberries
• 2 T orange liqueur
• 2 C flour
• 3 t baking powder
• 1/2 t salt
• 1/4 C sugar
• 1 egg
• 1 C milk
• 4 T unsalted butter, melted
• 1/4 t lemon oil or 1/2-t lemon extract

Place blueberries in small ovenproof bowl and stir in liqueur. Cover tightly with foil and heat in a 375 degree oven for 5-10 minutes until berries have absorbed liquid. Sift together flour, baking powder, salt and sugar. In another bowl, combine egg, milk, lemon extract and melted butter. Quickly fold in the dry ingredients then stir in the berries. Fill greased muffin pan two-thirds full. Bake in a preheated 375 degree oven for 20-25 minutes.


I enjoyed one with tea while the "men" were watching the Super Bowl this evening. There's nothing like a warm muffin to satisfy the soul.

Enjoy.

21 Super Bowls Ago Today

In a far, far land, 21 Super Bowls ago, lived a young fair maiden and a dark handsome stranger...... (I couldn't resist, sorry.)

Kidding aside, it was 21 years ago on Super Bowl Sunday that the pre-hub and I had our first date. Needless to say, we missed the entire game that year! Instead we went antiquing for art deco, both of our passions at the time. His favorite haunt was Kensington, Maryland, a quaint little town up Connecticut Avenue just outside DC.

We found a gorgeous dining room suite (art deco, of course) that was a bargain. This was just before deco really hit big so bargains were still easy to find. We went back and forth on if we should buy this set, thinking we could split it up. I think I would have received the better end of the deal with the table, chairs and china cabinet, he with the two buffets. Well, we decided against it, I mean, it was our FIRST date! In hindsight......DUMB MOVE! ha. We would have had a beautiful set today if we had been less prudent. Oh well.

That afternoon, we went back to Old Town Alexandria where he lived and had a delicious German dinner. It was so much fun and so comfy being together. It was the beginning of a full-blown office romance. And it did move quite fast.

It's so much fun thinking about those first days of our lives together. I have to say, I knew right away that he was the "one" and I prayed he felt the same. Obviously, he did. (blush)

Bleary-Eyed Dusk in New Orleans

I've had New Orleans on my mind recently and after reading a recipe for Banana's Foster on a favorite blog the other day, I thought I would go ahead and write about the hub's and my trip there last year around this time. We had the absolute best time, of course. Who goes to New Orleans and has a bad time? I'm saddened to think about the destruction of Katrina. I'm hoping that it will come back even better than before. We'll have to plan a trip there this year, if for nothing else but to help the economy. Perhaps a weekend jaunt while we're in Alabama during Spring Break is in order.

I had visited New Orleans many years ago with my family when I was about 11. Each summer, we would pack up the car and head South from DC. Our first stop was always to see my mom's side of the family in West Georgia including Aunt Mary and Aunt Nita. We would stay there for a couple of weeks between houses and then head further South to see Dad's side of the family in and around Dallas. For some reason, dad got a wim to go through New Orleans in route to Dallas. It was the first time he gave me his Minolta camera to take pictures all summer long. The novice I was, I loaded the film incorrectly and it didn't catch and wind--not one picture from New Orleans the summer of 1972.

I remember distinctly the Spanish moss growing on big oak trees, afternoon showers each day and the wonderful sounds of jazz filling the streets in the evening. During that time, there weren't the "girly" shows in every other entrance of today and it was ok for a family to enter an establishment to listen to the jazz playing there while the parents enjoyed a beer or two. It doesn't seem that long ago, but I guess it was a different era. Guess I'm getting old being able to say that. It was here that I was first reprimanded for asking for ketchup for my steak. My father, a true Texan, appreciated a good steak when one was to be found. I'm sure it was the finest steak house in New Orleans where I asked the waiter for some ketchup. My brother Jim, aka the "food snob," let into me. "A good cut of beef doesn't need a condiment to cover up it's flavor," he stated at the tender age of 13 out of embarrassment. I'll never forget it. That was the very last time I ever put ketchup on a steak (in a restaurant) and I relay that message to the boys today.

The hub had a business trip there last year and of course I had to jump on the bandwagon and go with him. He booked us at The W on Poydras (not the one in the French Quarter--too loud there!). I love, love, love W hotels. They refresh me with their new-wavey decor and sounds. This one was especially nice with a wonderful library in the lobby, right next to the "lounge." Our first night out was quasi business, so we ate at Galatoi's on Bourbon Street. Oh, how delicious that was. I had the crevettes a la creole, shrimp over rice with a creole sauce. We ordered several vegetables to pass around, but I remember the Pommes de terre soufflees (fried potato puffs) the most. Every thing was absolutely heaven to the taste buds. You don't go to New Orleans to lose weight, that's for sure. It's all about eating and drinking.

We started our first morning with beignets and cafe au lait at Cafe Du Monde at the Riverwalk. I knew it would be the only "morning" we would get up, so we went for it. The beignets were out of this world--after they finally cooled down, ouch. That afternoon, we strolled across the street from The W and ate lunch at Mother's.

Again, needless to say, it was gastronomical. The hub didn't want to wait in line, but I was determined to try this place. (My dad always said, "If there are a lot of cars in the parking lot, it has to be good." Well, a line of people has to say the same thing, right?) It's such a quirky little joint, crowded, sometimes sharing a table with a stranger or two and always quite loud. You wait in line and you kinda feel like you're in line at the Soup Nazi's in New York City--a little intimidating once you get through the door. "You want to do this right," I was told the night before by an acquaintance on Bourbon Street (there will always be "acquaintances" after you enter the French Quarter). Be prepared, as best you can, to place your order once you get up to the cafeteria-looking counter. This is where one out of the three or four people behind it ask you what you want. It happens very quickly, so, again, be prepared. You're then given a copy of your hand-written order and proceed over to the cash register, kinda cattle-runnish. Now it's time to find a seat and wait for the abundance of whatever it is your ordered to arrive. Let me tell you, it is well worth the wait and the hustle and bustle of getting through that line. Once you sit down, you can relax and enjoy your meal. It's quite fascinating. One of us ordered the "Debris" sandwich. It was enough for two--chunks of roast beef with gravy on a bun. Yum. I think we strolled back to The W and took an afternoon nap, we were so full. Oh the joys of being on vacation without the kids.....

That night, we ate at a large bistro named Palace Cafe on Canal Street. I don't remember exactly what I ordered, but I think it was a mix of two of their appetizers because I was still full from Mother's. I do remember it being outstanding in presentation. And, "while in Rome" we had to order Banana's Flambe, cooked tableside, for desert. I thought I took a picture of the waiter preparing it for us--must have been the martini taking the pic cause I can't find it! Oh well. It was splendid. The rest of the night was pure Bourbon Street. 

This was our night/morning on the town. We hit several "music" venues with a couple of drinks in tow for each. (If you haven't been, you're allowed to take your drinks on the street with you as you depart. How fun is that!) We ended in a blues club listening to the sounds of The All Purpose Blues Band. Finally, we stumbled back to the hotel to rest our aching heads.

We awoke in the afternoon the next day; and the funny thing is, when we greeted other folks in the elevator with a "good morning," they replied "good morning" too. It was well into the afternoon! They must have tied one on the night before, also. That day, the hub and I went our separate ways. He went off to the D-Day Museum. 

The girly girl I am, I had no interest in that. So, I jetted off to the Canal Street Ferry to shuttle me across the river to Old Algiers and home to Mardi Gras World. 

I've never been to Mardi Gras in New Orleans, so I wanted to see some of the floats up close and see how they're made. I had a nice stroll along the Mississippi. At each street crossing, there was a lamp post dedicated to a famous New Orleanian. It took me longer than I thought to walk to the place, so I missed the last tour. They were nice and let me wander around by myself until closing time. The abundance of floats and float parts was amazing. It's a definite must-see! I really enjoyed it on my own, but I bet the tour would be outstanding.

Our last evening was spent living-it-up Cajun style. We went to Mulate's on Julia Street. They had live music--Jay Cormier & Cajun Country--with a big ol' dance floor right in the middle of the tables. It was such a hoot to watch all the amazing two-stepping and waltzing on that dance floor. 

It made me want to try another go with the hub at dance lessons (a WHOLE other story there!). I had the les haricots rouge (red beans & rice, my favorite) with a side of seasoned haricots verts (green beans). I have no idea what the hub got, I was so enthalled with my own plate and watching the dance floor. It was such an amazing night. We retired early that evening. We had satisfied every sense.

Such an amazing trip. Now I really want to go back, and soon.

Six More Weeks--YUK

Well, Punxsutawney Phil says six more weeks of winter. But, he says it will be a "mild" one. Good ol' Phil.

Namesakes

Sometimes I wish I had more children so I could name them after people who were dear to me or after a family member from long ago.

Rosemary: I was named after my paternal grandmother, Rosa, and my mom's sister, Mary; and thus came Rosemary. (My mom even mentioned Rosemary Clooney once.) I always knew my grandmother as Grandma Rosie. When I found a copy of her marriage license, it was signed, "Rosa." But, I think her given name was Aura. I'm not quite sure where the Rosa came from unless that was her middle name. Whenever I would visit her in Texas, I was always called Rosie. My oldest brother, Joe, calls me Rosie to this day. To almost everyone else, I'm Rosemary. It makes no difference to me. I'm honored with Rosie but I like Rosemary too. Even Rose is ok with me. When we were really young, my two middle brothers called me Roma. So, you see, I go by just about any form of Rosemary. Now the second part of my name, Mary. My Aunt Mary had named her daughter "Martha Sue"--Sue honoring my mom. I guess it was only natural for my mother to honor her in the same way. Aunt Mary was so proud that I was her "namesake," the true Southern Belle she was. She called me "Rose MARY." To anyone I was introduced to, it was "This is Rose MARY, my namesake"--major emphasis on Mary, no doubt. There was a special bond between us and I carry many of her traits. Funny how genes can skip over family members. Dear Aunt Mary passed away last year at the age of 92. I miss her so much.

John Robert Paul: When our first son was born, we named him John after one of my brothers and Robert after the hub. The hub's middle name was given in honor of his father, Perry; and so I gave John the hub's middle name. I'm trying to start a tradition. Hopefully, John will give his first-born son the middle name of John. We'll see how long this tradition lasts. When John was confirmed into the Church, he was confirmed Paul after his paternal great grandfather.

Before I go any further, I have to say a little bit about "the fathers' names" and how they, let's say, progressed over the years. As far as I know, my father-in-law was named Prokiev at birth. He was the first in his family to be born in the United States from the Ukraine. The story goes, they lived in an Irish neighborhood in New York City, so during his school days, he was known as Patty. I'm not sure when he started going by Perry, but that's what he's known by these days. Moving over to my father, he was given the name Wilber Vernice at birth. What a name. No wonder he didn't like it. He was known by Vernice only in Texas; everywhere else, it was "Bill." Why Bill and not Will, I don't know. My wedding invitations read Mr. & Mrs. "W. V. (Bill)......" so I had covered all the bases.

Alexander James Nikolas: When our second son was born, I wanted a more traditional Slavic name in honor of our Ukrainian surname. Alexander it was. His middle name, James, was after my other brother (aka Jim). Alexander will be confirmed Nikolas when the time comes.

Lillian Filomena: Of course, I had planned on having a girl after our second son. But after waiting several years after the last, I really didn't want to go back to baby stuff. I enjoyed them so much; and I was totally content with just them. I think God knew I would be better with boys, and so just boys it was. It goes without saying that every woman has a name picked out for her unborn daughter. Of course I did, are you kidding? My mom's name is Lillie Sue (Southern, ooooh weeee!) She goes by Sue because she dislikes Lillie. I don't know why--I love that name. It's so old fashioned. So, in honor of mamasan, Lillian. The middle name, Filomena, was in honor of the hub's great grandmother. His mom was named after her, Phyllis. That's the Italian side of his family. I married into a wonderful mix of traditions between the Ukrainian and the Italian, didn't I! I absolutely LOVE it.

Since I have boys, I hope the future daughters-in-law will help me in honoring some of our family names. They have family names of their own, their unborn daughters already named, I'm sure. I guess I'll just wait and see what's in store.

Well, with all that said and to keep up with my own progression, I have decided on the new name of Aura. "Living as Aura." Hmmmm. We'll see about that. KIDDING!