"we can pack dirt"

For someone whose family has moved roughly six times (so far), I'm horribly averse to the whole ordeal, especially because all of my Arlington moves thus far were within the same building, rendering packing unnecessary. Thankfully my mom swept in to town last Tuesday, and helped me pack up my life. In the event you haven't met me, or haven't set foot in my many apartments, I have a lot of stuff. Not quite hoarders level or anything, but let's just say no shelf or closet goes unused in my life.

So while I grew annoyed/weary/frustrated at the seemingly multiplying possessions in my old Arlington apartment, Mom was an indefatigable force of bubble wrap, packing paper, and organization. In a day and a half span, we managed to box up everything in my life, including a planter that had, you guessed it, dirt, still in it, stopping pretty much only for food, more supplies, and sleep. Then, Friday morning, three guys from "Two Guys and a Truck" (yes, I was also confused by the math there) showed up, and spirited away every last thing (save for my clothes). 

Even though turning over full control of my possessions to strangers was stressful, the fact that my parents and I barely had to lift a finger thanks to the movers was easily the best decision we made throughout the entire move. Even when some jerk parked in the "emergency no parking zone" in front of my DC apartment, partially blocking the moving truck's access to the loading dock, I barely flinched. I just called to have him towed, and carried on pointing out where I wanted my various pieces of furniture to go. 

By lunch time Friday, the movers were gone, and Mom, Dad, and I were left with dozens of boxes to unpack, pictures to hang, walls to paint, and decisions to make. Several trips to the local True Value hardware were involved, and the weekend was a flurry of little projects and closet/pantry/shelving logistics. I sitll don't technically own the apartment, but that's another story for another post, because I'm still exhausted by the whole adventure. I now have internet in my life again, so expect prolific posts with before and after photos and the like. For now, though, here is my move in photos, mostly captured by my Mom, who is a closet paparazzi-corps member.     

This literally isn't even the half of it...

Basement staging area

Leaving the old apartment behind

Unloading at the new apartment

Mom had plenty of time to capture this moment, given my herculean struggle with the 100 year old lock

Weary from the move (and still ignorant to the fact that all the boards my Dad is holding are the wrong size)

Trip #3 to True Value

I love having a neighborhood hardware store  (and dry cleaner, and liquor store, and grocery, and...)

Celebratory "we survived!" prosecco

moving day!

I have volumes to say about what got us to this point, but, it's finally moving day, so I'll spare you for the moment. I don't actually own my apartment yet, but I am legally allowed to move in to it. I'll take it. 

ps-these are pretty much just the boxes for the kitchen, which, in case you were wondering, is by far the smallest room in my new place (LKTC indeed). 

my sweatshirt recipe

Do you ever think about how things like onions and peppers can become a part of so many different meals? I know, I know, it's as profound as yesterday's gem on timing. I suppose it's right up there in culinary "lightbulb" moments like "oh yeah, I guess quality ingredients really do make a difference." Give me some credit, I'm still (kind of) new to this whole regular cooking thing. 

Anyways, I'm sure this isn't the very first time I've had the ingredient versatility thought, but it's the first time I felt compelled to articulate it. Lucky you, I know. The thought came to me as I was rummaging through my fridge and cabinets for the components of angry paella. I found myself dicing up the leftover onion and red pepper from last week's pad thai experiment and thinking "I'm being so economical!" You know, little pats on the back and all that. We'll ignore the fact that I got distracted from dinner prep by testing paint colors for upcoming stencil projects. Just focusing on the positives here.     

pardon my unusually careless handwriting. and my bottle of wine holding the whole experiment up.

I decided earlier yesterday afternoon that I wanted to make angry paella to use up the last of my arborio rice. The fewer things I have to pack at this point the better, considering I still haven't started that little chore. Angry paella isn't always made in anger, by the way. It just so happens that the first time I made it, I was angry, and the nickname stuck. 

So while yesterday I was not angry, I was tired and am facing the reality of imminent "homelessness." Or at the very least, a gap between when my current lease ends and when I can close on my new apartment. The details are peculiar, and I'm too drained to recount them right now, but at some point you'll hear plenty, I promise. Bottom line is, the bank has deemed me loan-worthy. My future building on the other hand, is not-so-loan worthy, it seems.  

Which brings me to how, aside from pantry emptying goals, I found myself making angry paella for dinner. You see, it's my sweatshirt recipe. You know how you come home from work and immediately ditch the real clothes in favor of leggins and an old sweatshirt? (That's not just me, right?). It may not be the most creative or attractive combo, but it's comfortable after a long, stressful day in heels and hose. The appeal isn't in the appearance, it's in the familiarity. And that's what angry paella is to me. 

I make it more from memory than from a recipe. I really only measure the rice, everything else happens by sight/feel. I always know just how it's going to taste. It always has just the right level of heat and the right touch of smokiness from the sprinkle of smoked paprika I started adding a while back. No matter in what country, or in whose apartment, I've made it, it has never let me down. So on a rainy, cold day full of stress, it's just what I need.

This is why I don't bother measuring things. I'm going to end up using as many peas as I feel like, and the measuring cup just gets in the way.

problems -> solutions

angry paella + what turned out to be a perfect syrah/malbec blend

And maybe the best part is, I have leftover paella for lunch (and wine for later, when mom descends on DC and we start figuring out what to do about this most recent real estate drama/dilemma). It's practically the next best thing to actually being able to wear my sweatshirt and leggins at work...

timing

Timing is a funny thing (I'll give you a minute to let the profundity of that statement sink in). I don't think it often makes sense, at least not until much later down the road, which is problematic for me and my (sometimes neurotic) need for things to be logical. But every so often, timing surprises me. This morning was one of those moments. 

See, I'm a worrier. I generally don't discriminate with my worry. It encompasses most aspects of my life to some degree. Yes, I am aware that I'll probably die of a heart attack at age 35. In fact, I worry about how my worrying will affect my health.

This, by the way, is why I was completely unsuccessful at maintaining this position for more than approximately five minutes on Sunday. 

Exhausted after working seven straight days, and plagued by a case of the rainy day blues, I thought for sure I'd finally be content to sit still, watch some tv, just relax. Instead, I was propelled by stress, and ended up pinging around my apartment like one of the little metal balls in a pinball machine. 

It was a sight to behold, I'm sure, my bouncing around between washing dishes, painting my nails, putting away my clothes, and baking bread. This all consumed my time only until noon, by the way, when Sophie rescued me from my morning of pointless chores with an invitation to have brunch and watch hockey with friends. 

And so while I actually accomplished quite a lot yesterday, I got home after a lingering dinner with a friend and was kicking myself for how little I'd done (especially on the "packing for the move" front). The successful loaf of bread on my counter (more on that later) seemed trivial compared to, say, packing up my kitchen. 

I woke with the same sense of discontent this morning, and on my way in to work, I read this post from one of the many random blogs I read. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. The author seems to share my proclivity for minimizing accomplishments, and often reaches a point in time (i.e. the end of March) and bemoans the lack of things she's done up to that point. So for this year, she decided to keep a running list each month of things she did manage to do, even if they were seemingly insignificant.

There's no question I need to (and plan to) take a page from her book (err, blog?). I have been especially critical of myself lately in terms of decisions and accomplishments, and there's just not enough room in my life right now for that kind of worry and stress. So, I'm going to follow Holly's lead and start giving myself credit for the little stuff. And the big stuff. Like finally getting parking permits for the moving truck that will transport my life from Arlington to DC on Friday. Go me.  

Now about that loan that still isn't final...           
 
 

playing chicken

I think I'm normally a pretty risk-averse person. Snooze-worthy, I know. I chalk it, along with many of my other quirks, up to being the firstborn child. But this spring, I've strayed from my usually cautious ways. I went out on a limb and joined a new team at work, which has ultimately been rewarding, but is a pretty big departure from the comfortable, safe little work life I had with my old team. 

On the heels of that decision, I also took tangible, terrifying steps towards home ownership (mentioned briefly here). A logical part of my risk-averse nature is an inherent frugality, so while my monthly rent payment pains me, talking about purchasing things that cost hundreds of thousands of dollars makes me downright squirmy. 

But for many reasons, I decided it was time to take the leap of faith. It's been an extremely draining, oftentimes frustrating process, the details of which I may or may not eventually subject you to here. I've felt, for most of the time, like I'm playing chicken. 

See, the loan hasn't come through yet. And I'm due to close in less than 7 days. But I've already given notice of intent to vacate my current apartment. And hired movers. And daydreamed (again) about paint colors and DIY projects. And cringed (and drank a big glass of wine) when the real estate agent cashed my earnest money check. And requested that Pepco set up electricity. And...

So, that, coupled with 10+ hour days and weekends in the office, is really doing a number on my frugal, risk-averse tendencies. I know this because I now get regular emails from both my mother and my real estate agent assuring me that this is a)going to happen, b)a good thing. 

All of this hectic-ness, by the way, is how I found myself doing yet another out-of-character thing recently: cooking for stress relief. I'm forever trying to actually use the recipes I pin on Pinterest, and I had a rare weekday without post-work obligations. Enter chicken pad thai with peanuts and lime from this cool blog I randomly found (it's called Technicolor Kitchen, and the author reviews a movie and a recipe in one go).    

there's a lot of up-front chopping to be done, but, it otherwise comes together quickly

yum!

It's not so much that I enjoy prep work (or cooking), but, I do find them to be a perfect distraction from the extremely obnoxious little voice in my head that features a constant loop of nagging questions/worries (a la the news ticker on the ABC 7 building in Rosslyn) about this upcoming move/major life purchase.

I ended up tweaking the recipe a little bit, by the way, by subbing tofu for chicken, adding strips of red pepper, and leaving out the fish sauce (which I tend to loathe...with a passion). I put a couple drops of dark sesame oil and a dash of siracha in the sauce instead. Mine, as you will see when you look at my photo above, and the blogger's version below, came out looking, well, totally different. I'm not sure why hers is so much lighter in color, but, it tasted delicious, so, I'm not complaining!

no clue why Technicolor Kitchen's version and mine (above) look so different...

The next week and a half is going to be overwhelmingly busy, but, at some point I'll be back with more details on (and many photos of) the new digs!

chilly

Once again, I'm not feeling particularly nostalgic about anything. I suppose that has a lot to do with life being too hectic and complicated for wistfulness (or dishes or cohesive ensembles or home cooked meals or laundry or...) lately.  

So, in the absence of any of that business, I figured I might as well turn my attention to an often-forgotten list: kitchen covets. I'm going to preface this post with the firm statement that no, I do not have a drinking problem, I just happen to have had my eye on two alcohol-related kitchen items for a while now. Please do not call a)my mother, or b)Betty Ford after reading this. My mother would say "you go Jenny!" and Betty Ford would say "that girl is way too poor to detox on our terms."

Anyways, now that we've established that I'm not at all rehab-bound, may I present the first thing on my list of eventual "to buys." Whiskey rocks. I'm not a big liquor drinker (minus holiday season 2011, in which all I drank was straight liquor, but, that's another story for another blog), but when I drink it, I want nothing muddying it. Definitely not soda, but preferably not even ice. Enter whiskey rocks, which keep your liquor chilly, but unmarred by other liquids. And I find them strangely stylish in a rustic way. Heaven.

photo care of uncommon goods' site

Speaking of keeping alcohol cold, but undiluted, I find this little invention fascinating and amazing. It's a corkcicle. As in, a cork with a faux icicle attached. You fill the faux icicle with water and freeze the whole thing. Then, once you pop open a bottle of white wine and pour a few glasses, you put the corkcicle in place of a regular cork, and it keeps the wine chilly. For those of us who live in shoebox apartments short on space and/or just do not have the patience for a whole ice bucket getup, this is perfect! I think this would be the perfect addition to my Monday night dinners with Sophie (which will hopefully resume when the busiest two to three weeks of my life conclude on/about April 30), and it's at the top of my birthday wish list. 

photo care of uncommon goods' site

And now, I will stop talking about booze and go consume just a little bit of it at girls' night with the coworkers. Happy hump day, everyone. 

(f)easter dinner

Saturday was the much-anticipated (F)easter dinner with coworkers. We served salad, rosemary olive oil bread, two types of pasta (made by Trader Joe's, not me, sadly, after my failed experiment), bolognese sauce, pesto sauce, tiramisu, and toasted almond gelato with espresso (known as "affogato"). I'm not kidding when I say that every so often, I just need to make a ton of time and labor intensive food! It's an urge that strikes rarely, but when it hits, you're best served to just get out of the path of the oncoming apron-clad little blond girl and just let her go to town.

I'm happy to report that everything turned out well, despite the general haze of exhaustion through which it was all prepared. My pesto succumbed to the horrors of oxidation, so the thin top layer of it was a lovely brown color, but the rest was unscathed, and it all tasted just as pesto should. I highly recommend Ina Garten's pine nut and walnut recipe. As far as I know, I'd never made pesto from scratch before, so that and the gelato were the only two new things I added to my repertoire this weekend. As much as I like to try new recipes, sometimes the classics are just calling your name. 

But I digress. As much as we all enjoyed everything, I have to say my absolute favorite was the affogato. I had gotten in my head about a week ago that yes, yes we did need two desserts, and that gelato + warm espresso just had to be one of them. That was the end of that discussion. The toasted almond gelato recipe came to me entirely by accident, but I'm so, so happy it did. I'm not sure I could imagine a better flavor to meld with the espresso. I must say, Williams-Sonoma has yet to lead me astray, and this recipe was no exception. 

So because I'm sleepy, and have about a million billion jillion house-related things to tackle in the next 2 1/2 weeks, I'll stop rambling, and leave you with a slew of photos from the feast. Recipes appear at the bottom, and on the LKTC-tested recipes page!  

bolognese

pesto

tiramisu sampler (to make sure it tasted ok, and that none of the eggs were bad before I served it to a group of people!)

the pan of tiramisu for the crowd

the espresso for the affogato, percolating away in my stovetop machine, which was saved from the garbage by this trick

since I didn't manage to capture the affogato, I offer Williams-Sonoma's photo instead

We all had a great time stuffing ourselves silly, and given that (F)easter dinner was the night before, you guessed it, Easter, and we are a group of many religious views, we had some amusing discussions on the tenets of (and misconceptions of) different beliefs. Perhaps my favorite was my coworker who asked me to explain the Holy Trinity, and when I did so, said "oh, I thought the holy spirit was Gabriel!" 

Anyways, hope you had as enjoyable of a weekend as I did. And if you're also feeling a strange but prominent desire to spend a day in the kitchen, here are the recipes I used. I promise the day will quickly slip away between whisking and kneading and mincing and simmering. And also that you'll have a meal that is entirely worth it. Enjoy!  

Recipe Roundup:

• Ina Garten's Pine Nut and Walnut Pesto
• LKTC's Bolognese 
• Food Network's Almost Famous Rosemary Bread
• Williams-Sonoma's Tiramisu
• Williams-Sonoma's Toasted Almond Gelato

ps-many thanks to Neha, who remembered at the last minute to photograph everything!