The Gravy Train

martha, can you hear me?

Above: the breakfast table at my friend Melanie's bridal shower

I'm really excited to finally share with you a project I've had in the works for a few months now.  My dear friend Melanie is getting married this coming April in Louisiana, and last year, right after she got engaged, she asked me to be her matron of honor.  (It actually pains me a little to call myself a "matron."  I feel like I should be wearing my hair in a tight bun and shushing people.)

Anyway, last weekend I went to New York City without the Gravy Baby and the hubby to celebrate one of Melanie's last weekends of singlehood.  I chose the theme of our weekend, "A Heartthrob Weekend" based on a long-standing interest that Melanie and I share: celebrity crushes.  No, I'm not kidding.  Ever since college, Melanie and I have crushed on everyone from Joshua Jackson to Freddie Prinze , Jr. to our latest, Ryan Gosling.  There's a meme on the internet where people will take smoldering images of Ryan Gosling and impose them with the phrase "Hey Girl" followed by some utterly hilarious, sensitive-type slogans. 

First, I worked with the excellent design team at Mac & Murphy, a local paper store here in Charleston, to help design a girly yet tongue-in-cheek invitation that would set the tone of the weekend.  They came up with the invitation, and then I took it from there, incorporating Melanie's wedding colors of yellow, aqua and gold.

Top left: the buffet table set up with homemade granola; top right: my jalapeno pimento cheese dip; bottom left: lace doily cupcake liners hold red velvet cupcakes from the bride's favorite bakery, Buttercup Bakeshop; bottom right: these little tissue pom poms are trickier than they look

It's not easy to host a shower at the bride's apartment when I don't live anywhere near New York, but I took all of the decorations for the event in my carry-on suitcase, and roasted some homemade granola that traveled easily and, when paired with Greek yogurt and raspberries, could become an easy brunch dish. 

The hardest part of getting everything ready, as it turned out, was fluffing the tissue paper pom-poms.  Popularized by party hostess and craftmaker extraordinaire Martha Stewart , I have to admit that I took shortcuts -- I ordered mine premade from Etsy.  I figured that if someone helped me with actually putting them together, I could fluff them in minutes and set them up for a beautiful big splash of color in Melanie and her fiance's apartment.

Paper straws with flags that say "Yay, Melanie!" and "Hey Girl!" on the other side

Not so.  Making tissue pom-poms look fancy and perfectly round is tougher than it looks, and I spent more minutes than I'd lik to admit quietly stressing over tissue pom poms.  Yes, I am aware of how ridiculous this sounds now, but you have to understand that in the moment it seemed so mission critical.   Thanks to the Youtube ingenuity of another Asian-American bride, we found a helpful video that guided us to better pom-poms.  

Top: Melanie's Ryan Gosling postcards; bottom: the Gocco'ed second line hankies hanging to dry

If you've followed my blog over the past few years, you know that no wedding I'm involved in can pass without my Gocco printing machine being involved.  This time, I found Melanie a gocco'ed Ryan Gosling postcard to write her a congratulatory wedding message.  After the shower, we spent the afternoon Gocco'ing handkerchiefs for the second line parade that will happen after Melanie and Troy's reception.   After Melanie and I finalized the design, I made three screens to print the design in gold ink onto 22 dozen handkerchiefs.  That may sound like a daunting task, but it was actually one of the easiest Gocco projects I've ever tackled (bear in mind, I printed an entire wedding invitation suite while sweating and eight months pregnant in Malaysia).

We ended our night at Peel's NYC, a restaurant where Ryan Gosling was once photographed eating alone.  Melanie wore her hearthrob lockets (yes, she owns two, and no, they were not made for this particular occasion), and the ten of us dined on some out-of-this-world Southern comfort food.

By the end of the night, I could tell that Melanie was having a great time, and I was so happy that all of the planning from the past few months had resulted in a really fun weekend.  

And you know, I've almost recovered from the trauma that was those tissue pom-poms.  Almost.

Seriously, how does Martha do it?!

dining a quatre

Osso bucco over creamy Parmesan mixed grits

You know, in the time B.G.B. (that's Before Gravy Baby), the hubby and I vowed to keep some things about our lives from changing.  We made all sorts of promises to each other --  to take time out and check in with each other, to still enjoy a good glass of wine every now and again, to entertain and keep up with our friends like we always have.  

Fast forward thirteen months later.  I chuckle a little bit now at the clueless naivete of those heady pre-baby days.  Now we squeeze in whatever time we have for each other at the end of a long day just before we collapse into a delirious sleep -- at around 9:30 pm every night.  And it's taken us this many months to finally, finally figure out a way to host a dinner party again, which is exactly what we did two weekends ago.

Top, left: rosemary-infused Marcona almonds, cubed canteloupe to accompany prosciutto, our favorite Parrano cheese and a wheel of ash-crusted brie; top, right: the happy place setting; and bottom, right: our cocktail napkins for our Firefly cocktails

We kept things pretty simple for our first time back in the dinner party saddle.  I made one of the hubby's favorites, an osso bucco I've featured on this blog before, adding creamy Parmesan mixed yellow and white grits from the farmer's market as an accompaniment.  We started our meal with an arugula and fennel salad topped with fresh ricotta and just a little squeeze and zest from a lemon.  And, because no meal is complete with dessert, I made a variation of this delicious ganache-glazed buttermilk chocolate bundt cake that the hubby and I absolutely love.  

I kept things so simple, in fact, that I completely neglected to take a full set of photos from our dinner, instead choosing to relish in our delightful company.  The Gravy Baby slumbered peacefully upstairs, even staying asleep until a gloriously late 7:30 am the next day so we could have ample time to recover.  

These days, I'd count that as a resounding success.

For more information on osso bucco, check my recipe roundup here.  

Looking to make a great bundt cake?  A great cake starts with a great pan; I love this one from the Goldtouch line by Williams-Sonoma

Instead of ricotta salata, which is a harder, saltier cheese, try tossing fresh ricotta with a really good olive oil and some lemon zest, then following the rest of this recipe and top the arugula with dollops of your ricotta blend

Looking to dress your table with sophistication?  My new favorite is One Kings Lane; join here

 

a caffeinated apology

One of the things I love about my friends is that I regularly hear about some amazing meal they've eaten recently.  "You'll never believe the sheer amount of truffles that were coating that tagliatelle," they'll sigh with delight.  Or, "I've eaten my weight in fresh ahi tuna and fear I may have mercury poisoning," (I'm looking at you, Meredith).  It's honestly one of the highlights of my day, to get a play-by-play of a resplendent meal enjoyed.

My response, though, is always the same.  After the requisite shared exuberance passes, I always ask if there's photographic evidence.  I want to see what glorious damage you've done to your otherwise healthy eating habits and ability to restrain yourself.  Inevitably, the answer is always the same: "Um, noo...I was too excited to eat to take photos."

I have to say that part of me, while I completely understand that otherwise rational people (like myself) may black out when approaching a really great meal, part of me is always a little incredulous that I'm hearing gastronomic music to my ears with no sound.  How could you forget to take at least one photo of your most memorable, blissful meal of recent memory?  How is that even possible?

I didn't fully have an appreciation of how much your excitement can forsake all else until we were at our friends Joe and Lisa's house in Washington, DC last month.  Joe is, quite frankly, slightly insane about food.  I say this in the highest, most complimentary way possible, but I honestly think Joe might be slightly permanently cross-eyed from the sheer amount of food research he did on our trip to Vietnam two years ago.   Anyway, Joe backs up his culinary obsessiveness with a killer ability in the kitchen, and one night he promised us a good home-cooked meal when we were still living out of suitcases.  

I worked myself into a frothy lather, thinking about and anticipating what that meal might entail.  After three weeks of suitcases and a whole lot of boiled pasta, I might've been slightly ravenous.  And oh, was that dinner Joe made ever delicious.  Stuffed courgette.  Homemade hummus.  Delicious chorizo.  I ate and ate and ate, and when I came up for air, I was still eating.

It wasn't until all the plates -- and my head -- were cleared that I'd realized I hadn't taken a photo.  Not a one.  I was gutted that I'd forgotten to document Joe's amazing meal, and so the next morning I snapped a photo of this beautiful cappuccino he made me.  The swirls of foamy milk, the chocolate-y espresso from Peregrine -- truly, this is the stuff that makes waking up in the morning exciting.  I dreamed about that cappuccino for days afterwards.

So, Joe, I'm sorry.  The next time we do a family cooking day, you do all the heavy stirring.  I'll be standing behind my tripod, snapping away.

 

a good food sunday

Cherry tomatoes in season at Dupont Farmer's Market

Last Sunday was a good food day.

The way carrots should look, with their nice green tops; melons; and likewise, Mr. Cured Meat Vendor

We spent our morning revisiting the Dupont Circle Farmer's Market.  I was a little sad that our hotel room doesn't have a kitchen so that I could take advantage of the gorgeous peaches and tomatoes in season.

The scene at Dupont Farmer's Market

When we're not having lunch or dinner out with friends, we're making do with a crock pot (for things like  curried lentil and potato stew for the Gravy Baby) and one of those hot pots everyone had in college (for mixing formula, boiling pasta, and just about anything else I can make in a 32-ounce plastic bowl). 

Above, left to right: eggplant and tomato ragu; middle: slow-cooked ribs finished on the grill; and delicious grilled chicken

Of course, we also have the kindness of our friends to give us a home-cooked meal every now and again, as we found at our friend Jeff's house.  We used to live across the hall from Jeff, and he was like Kramer, always popping by to snag a snack or two.  After we left he got much, much better at cooking for himself.  

Now we're the lucky ones.  

(P.S. -- need something to carry around your delicious food?  Enter the robot lunch box giveaway here).  

beau ty, beau thai

Pad Pik King (sauteed pork with green beans) at Beau Thai Restaurant in the Shaw neighborhood of Washington, DC

We're back in Washington, DC for a few weeks, after spending time in Florida and New Jersey with family.  It's good to be back and get to spend some real time here; we're excited to see all of the changes, both with the city itself and with our friends.  

On our second day, the Gravy Baby and I decided to play urbanites, and so we sped off to Shaw in our kicky borrowed Zipcar.  My friend Ty recently purchased a condo there, and we were eager to see what new offerings this redeveloping neighborhood had to offer.

Top left: the Gravy Baby's favorite was the sesame seed-crusted tofu appetizer; bottom left: we love pad see ew, and this version was tasty and lightly seasoned; right: the Gravy Baby's million-dollar smile should be a ringing endorsement  

For lunch, we stopped in at Beau Thai, a simple, modern-looking neighborhood restaurant.  It's one of Ty's favorites, and I could quickly see why.  The entrees are inexpensive (ranging from $8-12), yet everything felt like an upscale version of a home-cooked meal.  

We shared three items: the crispy tofu ($5), a sesame seed crusted tofu appetizer with a sweet and sour dipping sauce; the pad pik king ($9), a stir fry with pork and green beans; and the pad se ew ($8), wide, flat rice noodles with chicken.  Everything was great -- nothing was overly greasy (which is a common trap Asian stir-fries tend to fall into), lightly seasoned, and fresh.  I particularly liked the hint of lemongrass I tasted in the pork in the pad pik king; usually, this dish is just a stir fry with some fish sauce and chilies, so it was nice to see a little bit more flavor there than usual.

The clean, cool interior of Beau Thai

I  marveled to Ty that Shaw now has enough of a resident base to support a charming little new place such as Beau Thai, and it seems that there are lots of reasons to venture into this redeveloping area.  I'd say that a trip to Shaw for a meal at Beau Thai is well worth the time, even if you don't have a friend who's forging new ground by living there.

You know, having a good neighborhood place to eat might also convince me to buy there, too.  That's not weird, right?  To buy a house near a restaurant you like?  Because I'd totally do that.

Beau Thai |1700 New Jersey Avenue NW | Washington, DC | (202) 536-5636 | Open Monday-Sunday from 11:00 am - 10:30 pm

i sing with my eyes closed?

Top left: the coveted mic in our private karaoke room; top right: shockingly, this male duet between the hubby and a friend was actually Lady Gaga's "Poker Face"; bottom left: I'm slightly mortified that there's photographic evidence of my cheesy self; bottom right: can you guess what song the hubby is singing?

One of our favorite "Malaysia -- Truly Asia" pasttimes is going out for karaoke.  The karaoke places in Kuala Lumpur aren't like the ones back home, where you have to submit yourself to the indignity of singing in front of strangers who are inhaling greasy happy hour wings and only half-listening to your well-intentioned warblings.  The karaoke places here are all sectioned off into private rooms that you rent, and usually include some sort of all-you-can-eat buffet (it's not a particularly good buffet, but now my brain has forever linked stir-fried noodles and off-key blissing out).

Last weekend we went for one last group sing.  The hubby loves hard rock classics that enable him to croon and lunge forward at the same time, like a rocker.  I apparently prefer belting out ballads with my eyes closed.  I believe this photo was taken during my heartfelt rendition of Taylor Swift's "Love Story."

What sort of wacky activities are you getting up to this weekend?