Archives for April 2015

coconut pecan pralines

April 29, 2015

Pecan Pralines. Another favorite straight from the heart of the French Quarter. This little life luxury is one that always seems more extravagant than it really is. They always come together more easily than I expect, and how perfect for something that hails from The Big Easy, right? I know.

Today I made a variation of this old standby recipe as a thank you gift for our friend Dennis. He was nice enough to come check on the farm during our NOLA absence last week. Which leads me to the reason Pralines (along with some fun hot sauce) are the perfect thank you for him: Dennis always insists that what he does for us is no big deal, that it’s easy, no matter that his help gives us tremendous peace of mind. After that fashion, I like that this tasty treat is fast and easy to prepare but should (hopefully) give him tremendous pleasure. I groove this balance.

My variation today was simple and twofold: I just used much smaller pieces of the same amount of toasted pecans (instead of great big pecans halves) plus some chopped up, toasted raw coconut for fun. About three years ago I secretly made out with a big praline like this in New Orleans and just Fell. In. Love. He gave me beads, we hid behind the banana trees, everyone was happy.

Anyway. The gritty, complicated texture of a coconut pecan praline is only matched in wonderfulness by its buttery, beachy, indulgent flavor. Pecans and coconut are so crazy good together. Eating just one of these will give you a nice Southern drawl whether you like it or not.

Here’s the low down:

Ingredients:

1 cup packed brown sugar

1 cup granulated sugar

1/2 cup evaporated milk (not quite one small can)

4 T butter, chopped up

big splash of vanilla extract

1 1/2 cup chopped and toasted pecans

1 cup flaked raw coconut, also chopped and toasted

Such an Easy Method You Won’t Believe This:

1. In a medium saucepan, melt together the two sugars and evaporated milk. Let it all dissolve and cook into golden brown seduction and stir with a wooden spoon as it goes. Now insert a candy thermometer.

2. You’re now watching for the candy thermometer to reach about 240 degrees. Keep stirring, ok? When you see that mercury rise silently to that temp, turn off the heat and drop the diced up butter on top but do not stir anymore yet. Let it rest.

3. In about one minute, add the vanilla, pecans, and coconut. Now stir some more with that same wooden spoon. Stir your little heart out. Stir until the hot, syrupy mixture looks more like opaque candy and you need some muscle to move that spoon. You’re almost done.

4. Now use an ice cream scoop (just for uniformity and ease, if you care about that) to make about a dozen big, glossy puddles of chunky praline mixture on your prepared cookie sheets. Oh I forgot to tell you to prepare a couple of cookie sheets! Sorry. Just line two with waxed paper or parchment paper. These babies will cool and harden and eventually pop right off of either of those, then you can add them to some soft old tattered linen.

See how easy? Just a few dishes to wash. Less than half an hour, plus cooling and hardening time. Very few ingredients, too. I dare say you’ll have this classic recipe memorized after one or two passes. And feel free to get creative! In New Orleans, the candy shops boast all variations of the beloved praline: Coconut (like we made today), chocolate drizzled, chewy, boozy, you name it.

Last but not least, do you like to pronounce it pray-LEEN? Or do you say PRAH-leen? I suspect your answer will tell me whether you drink coffee or hot tea. And therefore whether we can be early morning friends.

Thanks again to our friend Dennis for not letting the buffalo escape and for keeping the chickens fed and the parrot more or less sane. Thanks for making sure the llamas didn’t go on any joy rides in my Jeep and for texting me that adorable video of our animals right when I was getting really homesick. You’re the best. I hope you like your coconut pralines and hot sauce!!

Laissez les bons temps rouler!
XOXOXOXO

marathon monday: the pretzel story

April 27, 2015

I have in my own head a million stories from the whole experience yesterday, but I realize most of them may only be interesting to me. What follows is a relatively short anecdote, something that happened around mile 20 maybe? And it pretty well exemplifies my marathon personality. Specifically, my level of awkwardness that I can’t even shake during a big event like this.

Keen on not drinking any more Powerade because it makes me feel weird in mah belly, I approached an aid station and accepted a plastic cup that from a distance seemed to be clear. I assumed it was water, my desired refreshment, and snagged the plastic cup with clumsy thank yous. A few yards away I realized it was actually filled with mini pretzels, which I also didn’t need in mah belly. Sooooo… did I just toss them? Nope. That would have been wasteful. I jogged back to the same aid station volunteer (why??) and tried to return the snack to him. He looked at me like I was off my rocker crazy and said, at least I think this is what he said, because I was listening to music by now, Shakira at that moment, “You don’t want them?” He was truly perplexed.

“No, thanks though! Thanks! I appreciate it but I thought it was water, you can have it back and give it to someone else who wants them.” I rattled the cup as if to demonstrate to the guy that water doesn’t make this sound, mmkay? And I was actually shouting those long, unnecessary sentences because, you know, Shakira. He took a very long time deciding to go ahead and accept it back from me, then there was an awkward moment of eye contact between us. Really weird vibe. I finally shouted again at the poor guy, “I didn’t touch them!” And ran off.

My god. I am embarrassed to be seen with myself.

The End.

okc marathon expo 2015

April 25, 2015

Hello, happy Saturday! It’s finally race weekend in Oklahoma City, and it seems like about half the state is all revved up and participating in one way or another. Such an incredible community feeling, and that includes visitors from all over! I love it. I am so proud to be an Okie.

Happy to be home and refreshed from a week in New Orleans, today I drove downtown to the Expo to pick up my bib, t-shirt, and more goodies (including so many free samples of food!) and thought I’d share a few snippets.

I was feeling just this side of nervous and unprepared for tomorrow until I walked in through these cheerful balloons. And then everybody started talking about the fun stuff and wishing each other well and asking what event you’re running. Just the best vibe!! I picked up my packet in about thirty seconds, snagged a shirt, and browsed the vendor booths.

Overall the feeling at the Expo is very upbeat and joyful, but lest we forget why we’re all gathered in the first place, there is a display of 168 race bibs, one number reserved for each of the victims of the Murrah Building Bombing. It will hush you and give you chills just walking past. We run to remember.

While at the Expo I took the opportunity to meet Olympic gold medalist Joe Jacobi. I listened to him speak to the crowd about the spirit of service, personal growth, and taking accountability for your life. I’ve been following his inspirational writing (it’s about sports but much more than sports) for a while and was just delighted to finally meet him in person! My mind is swimming with ideas and I’ll be sharing this great stuff with you guys soon. By the way, he’s running the full marathon tomorrow too! When an accomplished athlete wishes you well on your run, friends, it’s awesome.

Oh listen, Brooks shoe company wants us to run happy okay? Run really happy. Okay. Done! I have my cute new Brooks Pure Flows all broken in, and around 6:30 tomorrow morning I will be running very happy indeed. Because tapering is making me crazy. Not running is for the birds.

I bumped into Lisa, a woman who has been SUCH a running inspiration to me these past few years! She was also my girls’ Science teacher way back when, and I have a ton of affection for her in my heart. We did not take a photo together, and now I’m sad about that. So good to see her though! She is a member of the Landrunner’s club and has accomplished every single one of the Memorial events over the years! This year she is serving as a finish line volunteer. So cool. Seeing her really gave me such a boost.

Big news, little brother Joey. I am now the proud owner of a foam roller!! Let the muscle punishment begin. And look at this cute shirt! 2015, twenty years after the bombing, marks the fifteenth Memorial Marathon.

I bought a million packs of sports beans in two flavors because I am out of control. Ate a free, cozy silver-dollar sized pancake because I finally started carbing up today. Tried a KIND bar but didn’t like it nearly as much as Kashi. (KIND is too low protein for that many calories, too.) Smiled at everyone and enjoyed 100% smiles back. I tried to purchase a buffalo-Oklahoma t-shirt for Handsome to thank him for all the marathon prep support he’s provided, but the vendor’s credit card machine wouldn’t work. It’s cool, though, in retrospect, because I remember the guy saying that despite living in OKC he’s not a Thunder fan. What the heck?? Sort of happy to not have given him my business. ((haha))

I had really hoped to finally meet my reader-Facebook friend Marcella and her beautiful running daughter today, but our timing was off. My fingers are crossed that we can find each other around the corrals at sunrise!! xoxo Hello ladies!

Several other community events are happening this weekend leading up to the actual race, and I hope if you’re here to run or support a runner that you join in! There’s a shoe blessing, a pasta dinner, a pancake breakfast, and more. Lots of wonderful speaker events as the Expo continues, and truly the vendors are so great. Surprisingly good prices. My plans are to rest at the farm tonight, eat a heaping bowl of pasta with chicken breast and veggie marinara, hydrate for sure, and go to bed early.

Thank you for checking in, and if you are running tomorrow RUN HAPPY! Enjoy every mile. If you are cheering for a runner tomorrow, BLESS YOUR HEART!! It almost makes me cry just thinking about my sweet people.

Over and out, see you tomorrow after the race!!

XOXOXOXO

P.S. One more time, just for good measure, tapering sucks.

just an average night of magic in the quarter

April 21, 2015

On Tuesdays I like to share stories or recipes from the Lazy W kitchen.
But this week, let’s talk about New Orleans some more.
She certainly deserves the attention.

Our dinner plans last night included a long, slow walk from our downtown hotel, along Bourbon Street, past Canal and past Toulouse, the cross street where you’ll find the Saint Anne-Marie. (Next time you have about three hours to sit and listen, ask me about this place.) We strolled easily hand in hand, in zig-zag lines from the uneven brick sidewalks to the open streets and back again to the sidewalks. We dodged the craziest revelers but enjoyed the atmosphere. People watching in the French Quarter is a measurable spectator sport, and we are skilled. The weather continued with such pleasant mildness. I was comfortable in my sundress but also happy to have my denim jacket when the cool breeze kicked up or a retail shop’s open door gushed out icy air.

Our destination last night was my choice, a place we’ve now visited twice, and it’s taking hold as one of our favorites. Right there in the middle of all the action, Bayou Burger on Bourbon has incredible food with excellent service and all the views. We were happy to wait maybe fifteen minutes for a balcony table, and everyone from the host to the server and management made us feel welcomed and not the least bit rushed.

Okay, the food. Remember how I told you that this week I’m indulging in local foods selectively? Trying to enjoy the trip but not sabotage my nutrition before the marathon? Well, last night’s meal was a great example. I ordered something decently healthy but also something you just can’t get anywhere else: I had a Gator Burger, and it was amazing. This thing was a thick, succulent patty made from a mix of ground alligator and lean pork. It’s cooked but still pink, served on a small brioche bun with almost dry jalapeno cole slaw. Very little dressing, just lots and lots of flavor. I chose sweet potato fries as my side, and they were not greasy at all. Perfect. All these flavors and textures together were like magic. Sweet and salty, savory and spicy, hot and meaty, cool and crunchy, soft and chewy, crispy… My gosh. This is the kind of meal that makes all mediocre restaurant meals and afternoons of deprivation worth the wait. And it actually filled my cavernous runner’s belly, which my closest friends will tell you is no small feat!

This is website photo obviously. And for a change, the real thing looked even better. I had mine sans onions and no chips, sweet potato fries instead. You guys. So good.

While eating and talking and laughing and flirting, thoroughly enjoying the balcony view, perfect weather, and eerie rooftop landscape of the French Quarter, Handsome and I noticed a police-escorted black SUV on the cross street. We assumed it was Michelle Obama, as we’d heard the First Lady was in town to pay commendations to the NOLA police department. (They have been successful in eliminating homelessness here among their veterans. Wow!) Immediately behind that quick scene was a small, sudden jazz parade!! This is one of the many benefits of balcony seating: A bird’s-eye view of unplanned parades!

The parade was small in size but not in spirit. They overtook the area with joy! The group was led by a man wearing a much-sequinned black tuxedo, white and silver feathery plumes, a sparkly white derby hat, pageant sash bearing words I couldn’t read, and tap shoes. He danced out front with abandon, frothing up every spectator and sending the energy all around him up to the clouded sky. The band played smooth white instruments, and they were followed by a large group of people wearing business clothes and convention name tags. Everyone was on cloud nine, including us. The party turned a corner in front of our balcony and we took our seats again to watch them pass. We could hear their music for several blocks, not to mention the wake of celebration they left.

As we returned to our delicious meals, I felt a twinge of happy-sad. I looked up at my husband and recognized the same expression in his green eyes. As I’ve said many times, this city has a hold on us. She draws us in and toys with our emotions. She makes us feel like we belong then reminds us that we are outsiders. Embraced then rejected, over and over. So weird. Do other people have such odd connections to foreign places?

After dinner, both fully satiated, we walked back up Bourbon and stopped in at the Jazz Garden to listen to Steamboat Willie play. An older couple was dancing before a tightly packed crowd of maybe 200 people. Some standing like us, some seated at little iron tables bearing paper plates of beignets and powdered sugar. When I say this couple was dancing, I do not mean they were swaying timidly; they were lost in the moment. Twirling, spinning, trading the spotlight, dipping and circling each other. Wow! Wearing sensible shoes and tourist clothes, they moved quickly and with complex and perfect coordination, a beautifully fluid harmony between them. For much of the interlude her eyes were even closed. Watching them, I felt tears well up in my own eyes. Handsome stood behind me, holding me, and we swayed in our own way, just amazed. Eventually I felt someone watching us. The patio lights blurred. The banana trees dipped down to embrace us all as one pulsing, weeping group. When their dance was finished, they took an exaggerated bow and the intimate crowd rewarded them with such applause!

The very next song was “What a Wonderful World,” that Louis Armstrong classic. Willie crooned into his microphone and Handsome crooned into my ear. Chills. We held each other and soaked up every vibe. I wept for happy reasons and sad ones and suspect he did too. A few times when the song approached key lyrics, the singer invited the crowd to join in. So he sang Friends shaking hands, saying how do you do? They’re really saying… Then the crowd, in a hushed but muscular voice, I LOVE YOU!! I got the tightest squeeze around my middle from the best arms in the world. Then at the end, slowly, Willie sang, And I think to myself… and the crowd, so softly, What a Wonderful World…

We kissed and danced in our small, timid ways in the undulating banana tree shadows then left for the short walk back to our hotel. My heart finally agreed with my head that this place is meant for such moments of magic, for nights of refreshment and connection, not for living. We got that magic last night, all of the refreshment and connection, and still a good life waits for us. A very good one.

And I think to myself…
XOXOXOXO

marathon monday: tapering in heaven

April 20, 2015

This year I am spending Taper Week in the most magical place on earth, New Orleans. The Big Easy. Specifically, the French Quarter. What an ideal environment for resting actively, i.e., still walking a lot, maybe snagging a three-miler here and there, some hotel room yoga, but overall just slowing down and gathering up lots of good energy for next weekend. Enjoying nourishment for body and soul from all the sights, sounds, smells (okay not every smell here is divine), flavors, and just… vibes. All the incredible feelings that pulse from this unique cultural microcosm my husband and I love so much. If ever a city within a city were well suited for intense active rest, it’s the Quarter. I always go home deeply refreshed and fully inspired after a few days here.

Once again, that weird feeling that I've come home to a place I've never lived. Every dang time. — Once again, I have that weird feeling of coming home to a place I’ve never lived. Every dang time.

Green, dripping canopies everywhere. Especially breathtaking in the morning sun. Much appreciated around the hard edges of all that wrought iron. Gorgeous combination. — Green, dripping canopies everywhere. Especially breathtaking in the morning sun. Much appreciated around the hard edges of all that wrought iron, this is such a gorgeous combination.

This morning I spring loose from our hotel and walk a couple of miles in search of perfect coffee. Office workers and traveling business people are buzzing around at a much faster pace than me, briefcases and shouldered messenger bags flying behind them. Lots of runners are out on the streets too, sweating it up in the glorious Coastal South humidity. This makes me a little happy-antsy and I have to force my legs to take softer, slower strides. Wearing three-inch wedge sandals helps. As I walk through the streets and clock one landmark after another, I notice feeling less like a tourist than ever before. I am even able to give a woman directions successfully (I guess)(probably) (good luck lady). How many visits to the city earns me honorary residence? If NOLA could only know how much I love her.

Street sweepers are finishing their work as traffic increases. They spray lemon scented, sudsy water that foams up and runs in spirals around every curb, rinsing away last night’s debauchery.

I can’t stop smiling as I pass so many (dozens! thousands!) of familiar shops. My heart is glowing just to recognize these little places. The same fern-collared potted evergreens. The same painted wooden signs and chalkboard menus on the same uneven sidewalks. The same changing artsy window displays behind glass next door to the same haunted hotels. So much opulence and rusticity all in the same space. Everything together in harmony and contrast, it’s all so beautiful I have to choke back tears.

This shop in particular always turns out fantastic window displays. Three cheers for fairy lights on in daylight! Three more cheers for black and white art with colorful flowers beneath. I love it.

Is it silly to see bohemian artists setting up shop at Jackson Square or on Royal street, displaying painted work I know well, and have to suppress the urge to rush up to them with tight hugs and lots of encouragement? They are so young. They remind me of our oldest, and I want to make sure they’ve eaten today and that their boyfriends and girlfriends are treating them right. (Then I Snap-chat that beautiful girl and say about the forty-seventh prayer of the morning for her and her little sister.)

Eventually, big goofy smile plastered to my face and tears drying in my eyes, I land at my favorite shop to sit and drink perfect coffee for an hour or more. They are so nice here. They smile at you and cheerfully offer refills. You can sit by the window and people watch and notice mule-drawn carriages pass by under the ancient shade trees. The windows here are tall and arched, not insulated, the wooden frames painted maybe a thousand times by now. Across the street from where I always sit is an ocean-themed mural boasting an impossibly blue “water” background, sea turtles, dolphins, a plain yellow jellyfish, and one huge black and white killer whale not quite in the center. I’m pretty sure this building is a school.

Today it's sunny out and the nearby French doors were wide open, but you should sit right here during a rain storm. My gosh. xoxo — Today it’s sunny out and the nearby French doors are wide open, but you should sit right here during a rain storm sometime. My gosh. xoxo

Food is of course a big part of the New Orleans experience. And despite some recent efforts to slim down, I do intend to enjoy myself this week. Selectively. Last night for dinner I ate a good sized omelette loaded up with mushrooms, tomatoes, craw-fish, and shrimp. It was delicious! So so so good. And around here you add “Crystal” hot sauce, not Tabasco. It’s the local thing to do. So we do it. Next I’m looking forward to big salads topped with more Gulf-fresh seafood. Lots of fresh produce from the French market. Maybe some gumbo or red beans and rice. And toward the end of the week, closer to the race, some kind of amazing local bread like on a muffaletta sandwich. Or pasta. Or both.

How fun that my first taste of pineapple and watermelon this year is happening in my favorite place.

Being here always refreshes me. It always gives Handsome and me a boost of romance, and the time spent in this culture actually deepens our appreciation for all things good and nourishing about the farm. I am so grateful to enjoy all of this and also get myself rested up for the marathon. Less than six days friends!!

Here’s hoping your week is just as lovely, however you are spending it. I wish for you provision and comfort beyond your wildest dreams. Reflection on lots of blessings (because remember that gratitude is an attractant), hope for the things that break your heart, and strength to meet every single challenge. And watermelon. I wish for you watermelon if it’s in season and perfect coffee every morning. Thank you for stopping here!!

“In the spring of 1988, I returned to New Orleans, and as soon as I smelled the air,
I knew I was home. It was rich, almost sweet,
like the scent of jasmine and roses around our old courtyard.
I walked the streets, savoring that long lost perfume.”
~Anne Rice Interview With a Vampire
XOXOXOXO

Archives for April 2015

Looking for Something?