My Perfect Louisville Food Day ... (and finally, a wafer-thin mint).

I can really be an outspoken (capital 'T') Twat when it comes to food in general.  But I know what I like ... and apparently that 'food confidence' somehow translates to a general aura that I know what the hell I'm talking about.

I get asked this question a lot: What is your favorite restaurant in Louisville?
 I think that is like asking someone which is your favorite child.
And my answer is always the same: I dunno, depends on my mood.

I think that's comparable with most people though.  Your favorite restaurant may simply be attached to your craving whim.  But, if I only had one dream day to spend in Louisville .... Here's pretty much how it would play out in my mind:


6am - Get up. Realize it's 6am ... get back in bed and sleep for another 2 hours. (I think about chastising my butler for not closing the blinds completely, but hey, everybody makes mistakes.)
Oh yeah ... did I forget to mention that I have a Butler?  AND I'm staying in a swanky suite at The Seelbach Hotel? (C'mon ... this is my dream day!)  

Wait ... Is it too late to make my Butler, Johnny Depp?? Nope?
Well, alrighty then ... Done!
For the purposes of this blog ... my Butler will henceforth be Johnny Depp. But not creepy, unbearably weird 'Willy Wonka' Johnny Depp.  Let's make him an amalgamation of a 'Jack Sparrow/Don Juan DeMarco/Donnie Brasco' Johnny Depp) Good.  We've got that sorted.

No, no Butler Johnny Depp ... the cocktail is for me!!

8am - I made a valiant attempt to go back to sleep for a few hours but spent the entirety of that time staring at Butler Johnny Depp.  Creepily. With one eye peering out from under the covers. I distract Butler Johnny Depp by having him run off to Heine Brothers to grab me a coffee with an inordinate amount of cream and a quick stop-off at Krispy Kreme Donut for one original glazed and one original chocolate.  They, of course, arrive freshly cooked and warm.
How can one possibly be expected to eat Krispy Kreme Donut any other way???

If you're going to bring me Krispy Kreme Donuts,
this is pretty much the amount I'll need.

8:01am - I quickly come to the realization that Johnny Depp has no sexual chemistry with me whatsoever because I'm not a vapid, blonde twig model with a bizarre gap in my teeth.  I ditch the idea of an all day long sex romp and remind myself that I am, in fact, in the midst of a full blown food romp.

8:04am - I have an entire team of stylists sashay through the suite showing me the latest in designer clothing and shoes. I frustratingly shoo them all away because they are arrogant, self loathing pricks and just don't get the point of the day. I am not a NYC model.  I am a Kentucky girl. We eat. So,  I pick out a gorgeous black pair of Target yoga pants, a Ralph Lauren flannel button down shirt and a set of black Tory Burch knee high leather boots. (I'm not a complete fashion neophyte ... I likes me some shoes!)

Seriously. No, really. Look at this car!

He cuts an awesome figure ... even if he is Mute David Beckham

9:01am - Breakfast beckons and I have Butler Johnny Depp call for my chauffeur driven Ferrari F12 Berlinetta, which happens to be the coolest car that isn't completely douchey. My chauffeur is a mute David Beckham. (cause, really? He's pretty much a mimbo and undeniably hot so I sincerely struggled with the idea that even though the British accent is crazy sexy, alas, he's super dumb. So, let's err on the side of caution ... He's mute.) Mute David Beckham rushes around to open my car door before doing a little hacky sack after I'm seated to entertain me 'jester style'.

Onto the first restaurant which will be:


THE SILVER DOLLAR - I love this place.  I hear mixed reviews all the time.  But you shouldn't listen to those people.  They probably did really poorly on their ACT's and are pissed drunk most of the time anyway. It's Louisville's best version of the least sucky hipster saloon experience.  They have an actual record playing stereo system and spin some of the most esoteric, cool songs that you forgot you loved.  This sets the tone fittingly for their menu.  Knowing that daylight is burning, I expeditiously order that meritorious southern favorite, fried pickles with a horseradish ranch aioli.  Those fried pickles are what I would consider the perfect amuse bouche for Silver Dollar. I then order the chicken 'n waffles.  This is a requisite item in an establishment of this sort, but ... seriously worth mentioning .... somebody's southern Momma must be in the kitchen, because this dish always hits the right notes .. and those notes are playing 'I'm Your Hoochie Coochie Man' by Muddy Waters.  Wait .... do my eyes deceive me?? They happen to only serve chicken 'n' waffles on their dinner menu .... but this is my perfect day .... so I will have chicken 'n' waffles posthaste!   For dessert ... I order the Flank Steak and Eggs.  A delicious combination of coffee & spice rubbed flank steak grilled to perfection served with perfectly cooked over medium eggs and a smoky poblano sauce. It may be my favorite breakfast dish of all time.
http://www.whiskeybythedrink.com/

10:35am - I finish my meal and Mute David Beckham piggy backs me to our car, pours me in and awaits instructions.  I tell him to head to St. Matthews.

11:22am - (It typically only takes 8 minutes or so to get from Clifton to St Matthews ... but I made Mute David Beckham pull over, get out and do some soccer drills .... shirtless.  We worked up an appetite.)

Swoonworthy 

SIMPLY THAI - Louisville simply isn't a mecca of southeast Asian delights when it comes to restaurants ... but I thank Siddhartha every day for leading the owners of Simply Thai to Louisville, Ky.  Inarguably, Simply Thai has THE best Tom Kha with fish/shrimp in the history of Tom Kha.  Ok.  You got me.  I haven't tasted an insane amount of Tom Kha ... but if I was Thai ... I would expect this would be their best version of a southern chicken soup or a latin madre's posole.  Flippin' amazing, it is. Next up, I order their loaded fried rice with chicken (hell .. let's make it extra chicken). Remember people, this is Thai fried rice. It is like a Thai version of Paella.  They cook crispy bits of rice and the smoky flavor from the sesame oil is just off the charts.  For my final course, I order the chicken coconut pineapple curry.  I am a demented mess when it comes to coconut.  Truly.  I could eat an aspirin if it was doused in coconut milk. Simply Thai's dish has that perfect balance between sweet and spicy with a luscious, velvety curry sauce that I crave fortnightly.
http://simplythaiky.com/

Brooke Eckmann, Farm Chick.

1:47pm - It's time to put the petal to the metal and head out to Shelbyville, KY to Ambrosia Farm.  I need to do a little walking and tasting to regain my eating strength.

AMBROSIA FARM -  If you have been lucky enough to taste the beyond delicious and sometimes exotic tomatoes that Brooke Eckmann grows on her farm at Ambrosia ... then you are in a very special club, my friend.  Brooke, in another life, could have been a CEO model/clothing designer.  She's honestly that adorably smart and hot.  However, if you ever get a chance (and I really hope you do) to meet Brooke ... glance down at her hands.  She has permanent dirt under her fingernails and hard-to-wash-off stains on her finger tips.  She is the real deal, people.  A dyed in the wool farmer chick.  She is growing some of the most fantastic produce that the Louisville area has to offer.  She has a summertime farmer's market of sorts at her homestead on certain days and sells the bulk of her produce to the lucky, 'in the know' chefs in town.  Brooke leads me along a perfectly manicured yard, past an old refurbished tobacco barn and over to rows upon rows of varietal tomatoes. Brooke stands proudly and talks excitedly as she instructs me on the finer merits of the planting season.  She has me taste tomatoes straight from the vines ... their sun warmed, sweet juice dripping down my chin as I gobble up every nectarous bite.  To say that this is a religious experience would not be an understatement.  As my perfect intermezzo comes to an end ... I get a sweaty hug from Brooke (who eyes Mute David Beckham wantonly) and bids me a fond 'bye y'all'.

The infamous Black & Blue Mojito

https://www.facebook.com/AmbrosiaFarm



5:03pm - According to my internal Happy Hour clock ... it is time to grab a cocktail!!  My absolute favorite cocktail in the entire known universe is at a restaurant not necessarily known for their drinks.  But they certainly should be!

SEVICHE RESTAURANT - Helmed by one of the most adorably spicy and non-apologetically cocky chefs in the city .... Anthony Lamas, to me, is someone scientists should harvest DNA samples from and clone for future generations to study for his  'in your face' food craftmanship  and outright culinary boldness.  I love sitting at Seviche's bar when I eat.  It is akin to an upscale 'Cheers' type situation.  It is a great Highlands neighborhood hang, that is,  if your neighbors are debutantes, CEO's and movers and shakers of the like.  But the cool ones ... not the stuffy wankers.  Before I can even take my seat at the bar, my favorite mixologist, Lindsay Franzen, has my drink waiting for me.  Seriously.  She does this nearly every time. I heart her for reasons she will never understand.  This drink was concocted for me when I couldn't decide between a blackberry mojito and a blueberry mojito.  Lindsay threw them together and made me a Black & Blue Mojito.  There are no ingredient shortcuts for this drink.  This is, as we say in the south, made from scratch using the freshest of ingredients as well as a high end rum.  It is topped off with a stalk of sugar cane as a garnish which I think is exceedingly charming and after a few of these beauties ... I usually find myself gnawing on one of them.  I can't leave this establishment without having my grazing ritual.  I start by ordering one of the best seviche dishes in the known recorded history of seviches.  The Big Eye Tuna Seviche.  It is made with fresh line-caught tuna diced into perfect bite sized cubes, sesame, jalapeno, locally microbrewed soy sauce, coconut milk and love.  For my next plate, I order the deconstructed duck nachos.  Trust me.  Order them. They are unexpected and scrumptious.  I simply could not leave this place without having one of Chef Lamas' signature Bloody Mary Oyster Shooters made with his own chef-inspired, bottled and marketed Bloody Mary mix.  An absolute revelatory dish.  Love it each and every time I try one.
http://www.sevicherestaurant.com/

This Big Eye Tuna Seviche dish is the bomb diggity.

7:46pm - Thank goodness for Mute David Beckham's arm escort and driving capabilities! Phewwwww.  Those mojitos are good stuff and go down way too easy!  But now ... I feel the call of Italy.

VOLARE' RESTAURANT - When I was in culinary school, they simply did not teach Italian cuisine.  Their reasoning? Italian cuisine does not have technique.  I wholeheartedly disagree with this line of thinking and dare anyone to believe this ridiculousness once they have tasted Chef Josh Moore's food.  As I head to the bar,  I hear my buddy, Robbie Bartlett's, sexy sultry voice beckoning me.  It must be a Thursday because on those evenings, you can find this songstress belting out an array of musical standards in the vast bar area.  I order my absolute favorite bottle of red wine, Montepulciano d'Abruzzo, every time I come to Volare'.  It is of the Sangiovese grape varietal from a town in Montepulciano, Italy.  It hits all my favorite wine notes and it simply wouldn't be a trip to Volare' without it.  Chef Josh Moore's take on nouveau italian cuisine merits a bit of discussion. On the menu, don't be surprised if you don't find an assortment of 'mamma mia' style spaghetti and meatballs dishes.  It is filled with more sophisticated, mouth watering items such as Osso Bucco atop a saffron risotto, Chilean seabass in a piccata sauce, Paparadelle in a veal demi glace cream sauce and one of my favorite appetizers, the perfectly seared sea scallops set atop a white truffle pea puree with pancetta and micro greens.  You could literally throw a dart blindfolded at the menu and find a dish that would make you giddy.  Furthermore, Chef Josh Moore is a gentleman farmer in his own right!  He serves his own homegrown produce seasonally.  Pretty cool, huh?
http://www.volare-restaurant.com/

8:50pm - After such an excitement of flavors ... I decide to get down to brass tacks and the meat of the matter.

JEFF RUBY'S STEAKHOUSE - I stopped eating in the dining room of Jeff Ruby's after the first year it was opened.  There was just too much going on in the bar area to miss. (Wait. Sidebar: .... this dining in the bar thing has become a running theme! I'm having a self-realization moment.) Every Friday, Saturday night Jeff Ruby's has live music in their bar area.  I typically will only go on the nights they employ Robbie Bartlett ... so for these purposes ... let's just say that while I was eating at Volare',  Mute David Beckham whisked Robbie Bartlett and her band quickly to Jeff Ruby's for my evening's singing pleasure.  There are only a few things that I will go to Jeff Ruby's to eat.  First is The Freddie salad. But only during the summer.  It is simple, but I crave it the minute I walk through the door.  It is essentially a BLT in salad form with house made ranch dressing and topped with fresh cracked pepper. Next is the dry-aged bone in rib-eye cooked medium.  It is simply one of the best steak selections that I have ever tasted.  Typically, if I don't get the bone-in ribeye then my 'go to' choice is the bone in veal chop topped with a perfectly cooked foie gras and a side of Bearnaise sauce.  Seriously ... I am probably going to hell for that decadent plate of food ... but if the devil is tempting me with this .... I'm all in.  There are several high end steak house choices in Louisville.  But for food, atmosphere,  swank & cool factor? This is my only choice.
http://www.jeffruby.com/louisville


10:46pm - As my debauched & hedonistic day draws to a close, I still have a bit of a dessert itch to scratch.  I could go one of two ways with this.  Mute David Beckham is just going to have to keep the midnight oil burning because looks like we are going with both!

SWEET SURRENDER - Upon entrance, I realize that this is clearly a stoner's paradise.  My sweet tooth is aching mercilessly looking at all the selections in the deli cases.  From the Belgian Chocolate Cake to the Banana Split Cake or the Chocolate Raspberry Torte to the Toffee Bars, cupcakes and assortment of fresh baked cookies ... my mind is swirling.  It's simply a matter of time before Mute David Beckham will be called in to carry me to the car after I go into a sugar induced coma.  This is seriously one of the best dessert shops in Louisville and you'd be hard-pressed to choose a favorite.
http://www.sweetsurrenderdessertcafe.com/

11:25pm - Not to be bested by a pastry ... my pride forces me forward.

HOMEMADE ICE CREAM & PIE KITCHEN - This is a hometown favorite and everyone has their 'go to' dessert at this fantastic place.  Mine, however, without a single doubt is the Caramel Apple Pie (heated) with homemade vanilla bean ice cream a'la mode.  It is the crowning finish to what can only be described as a mindblowing, flawlessly perfect pig-out.
http://www.piekitchen.com/

 The caramel topping is like a mixture of caramel icing and fudge.
Just unbelievably good!

So there you have it, ladies and gentlemen.  If my last day on earth suddenly presented itself .... it would look a little bit like this from a culinary perspective.  I hope this was an illuminating journey for you all.

CHEERS!

A Meal Fit for 'My' King! (Well ... Maybe if he lived in a trailer park?)

Aaaaaaaand ... They're off!

So ... today is the Kentucky Derby .... a day where Louisville, Kentucky shines brighter and bolder than any other day of the year.  Women and men alike are dressed in their most fabulous track attire after agonizing over just the right looks for possibly months!  And .... what am I doing today???  Why .... I'm in the kitchen cooking my husband his favorite meal for an early dinner, of course!

Why ... you may ask ... am I doing such a thing when I should be reveling at some swanky party or at the famous Churchill Downs?

Shameless plug picture of my daughter and the new horsey

Well ... it's really quite simple and boils down to two things.  (1) We just bought my 14 year old daughter an American Saddlebred horse a month ago (which was my trade off for an expensive Derby weekend, her birthday & Xmas for the next 27 years) AND (2) We are working on a very long list of high priced maintenance items on our home.  These two major things combined added up to me cooking away in the kitchen in order to keep hubby happy so that he doesn't implode while watching many, many dollars get sucked away by every subcontractor that steps foot onto our property.

With that said ... I thought I would let you in on my secret recipe for homemade MEATLOAF!!  I have 5 people in my family ... so I kinda' have to make a gigantic meatloaf.  We usually eat about 2/3 of it and then the rest is put into the refrigerator for cold meatloaf sandwiches the next day.

I have a terrible history of never measuring anything and when people ask me for a proper recipe ... I am hesitant to even attempt it ... I tend to just give them a pretty good outline.   So, these ingredients are approximations and prior to putting the meatloaf into the oven I make a tiny hamburger patty and fry it in a pan ... taste it .... and then make adjustments to the uncooked meatloaf at that point.

Ingredients

1 lb ground beef
1 lb ground pork or ground veal
2 eggs plus a TB or so of tomato paste
1/2 cup or so of milk
1 to 1 1/2 cups of panko bread crumbs
1/4 to 1/3  cup chopped fresh flat leaf parsley
1 ish TB fresh thyme
2 TB good worcestershire sauce (I really love Bourbon Barrel's products.  They are local and awesome in every way)
sea salt/fresh ground pepper (seriously ... )
2 - 3 carrots shredded
1 celery rib shredded
1 whole sweet yellow onion finely diced
1/2 red pepper finely diced
3 - 4 TB roasted garlic
1/2 cup chicken stock

Glaze:

1+ cup ketchup
1 tsp Gravy Master style browning sauce
1 large TB dark molasses
1/4 cup or so light brown sugar
1 TB Dijon mustard
1 TB apple vinegar
(mix all ingredients and readjust for taste)

mmmmm ... checkout these
glorious roasted beauties!

A day or two before (or day of) take several (20 or 30?) garlic gloves and wrap them in foil with a bit of olive oil drizzled on them.  Put them in the oven on a cookie sheet at 400 degrees for about 30 minutes or until they are mushy soft.  Take them out of the foil and put them in a zip lock baggie for safe keeping until use.  I use these non stop in cooking and keep a bunch of them in the refrigerator.

Dice carrots, onion, red pepper and celery.  In a large saute' pan ... add a bit of olive oil.  Saute' carrots, red pepper, onion and celery until slightly soft. While cooking sprinkle with a bit of salt/pepper. Add chicken stock to hot pan and deglaze pan.  Reduce until nearly all liquid is gone ... but still moist.  Let cool a bit.  Place all the sauteed ingredients into a blender along with the roasted garlic and give it a few good pulses.  (Me and one kid do not like crunchy onions) ... so this solves that problem.  Allow to cool completely.

In a small mixing bowl ... whip eggs and milk and tomato paste.   In a very large, wide bowl add pork and beef.  Pour in egg mixture, panko bread crumb, parsley, thyme, ample amounts of salt/pepper.  Pour in pureed carrots, celery and onion mixture to beef mixture. Add worcestershire sauce.  Mix completely with hands.  Do not over mix or squeeze beef mixture.  At this point ... I take a few TB's of beef ... make a tiny patty and cook quickly in a saute' pan.  Taste patty to see if the raw mixture needs salt, pepper, more garlic, thyme, parsley, etc... Add if necessary to your taste.

I do not use a meatloaf pan to cook my meatloaf.  I don't like it because you can't get the glaze on all sides and it just sits in it's own grease.  I just use a high sided cookie sheet.  I form my meatloaf (come on ... you used to play with Play-Do and it was fun!!) right on the cookie sheet and then put a thick glaze of the ketchup mixture onto all sides of the meatloaf with a pastry brush.

This is the raw meatloaf with the ketchup glaze ... Yeah, yeah
I know ... You should put foil down on the sheet.  Makes
clean up about a gazillion times easier.

The finished product! (... and YES ... I am aware that there is a giant butter slick on top of the
mashed potatoes .... that's the way hubby likes it ... and isn't that the point of all this ... to keep him happy?!?!?)

Bake at 350 uncovered until internal temperature reads 150 - 155 degrees.  I use an electronic culinary thermometer.  Makes things nice and very easy.  Otherwise ... it's about an hour to an hour and 15 minutes.  Take it out and let it sit for about 10 minutes.  This is crucial as it needs to firm up a bit.  Slice and serve.  I made homemade mashed potatoes and corn that was cut off the cob and sauteed with butter, salt/pepper.

ENJOY!!!!

Mood Poisoning .... It must be something I hate.

I really have been in quite the funk lately.  I have always been incredibly self analytical when it comes to my moods and behavior ... which, thankfully, has allowed me to stay off therapist's couches for most of my life.  I approach my terribly altered moods ... for the most part ... as amateur scientific studies.  As with any scientific study ... it is best to remain as objective as possible in order to reduce biased interpretations of the results.  Since I am analyzing myself through internal dialogue with 'myself' ... you would immediately conclude that I could not be biased because a part of 'me' .... the analyzer ... would be protective and defensive of ... well ... myself.  Here's the great thing about this scenario, though ... I am undoubtedly harder on myself than anybody else could ever be .... so you see ... there really is no chance for conflict of interest ... with myself .... and I indubitably get to the bottom of my 'mood poisoning'.

Now ... where were we .... Oh, yes ... my funk.

After days and days of analytical discovery and hours of self evaluation .... I have come to the unmistakable conclusion that I think way too often of my own problems and far too few of others.

I have been watching documentaries lately in order to be inspired to a 'call for action' of sorts.  I am horribly lazy by nature when it comes to getting into the thick of it and require a virtual kick in the ass typically to get off the sidelines and start to get in the game.  I only know that the more I start to ponder the woes of others ... do my piddly problems become inconsequential.   That's not to say that I don't have feelings and problems that need attending to ... it's just that if I allow my mood to be poisoned by constantly obsessing about drama and endless lists of wrongs in my life .... large or small ... I feel certain that I would turn into the type of person that I abhor: A self involved, pot stirring drama queen who feels so wronged by the world and is such a victim that she has no other recourse than to constantly suck energy from all that come near her in order to feed the bottomless pit of neediness.  Bleccccchhhhhhh!!  Yikes ... Even just writing that gave me the shivers ....

So .... I will forcibly banish the funk to the outer regions of my consciousness in order to get on with life in an enjoyable, positive manner and vow to do something wonderful this week for someone else that has far more pressing needs than me.  Selfishly ... I will do something selfless.

A Big EFF U to the New Year's Resolution gods? hmmmmm ....

As another New Year’s Eve is on our doorstep ... it’s time to formulate  "new"  New Year's resolutions (made with the utmost conviction, of course) ....  but only to be dropped like steaming hot potatoes some time before February as a “mission impossible.”

Look ... I really hate to be the Negative Nelly here ... God knows I love a good comeback story ... and I would much rather see a triumph than a tragedy.

We, as human beings, feel profoundly drawn to the notion of bettering ourselves as the dawn of a fresh year approaches.  It's a time to reevaluate our downfalls and the worst qualities in our lives and vow to reboot ourselves.  

We struggle throughout the year to lose or gain weight (ok ... who is the asshole that needs to GAIN weight?!?!) ... spend more quality time with our significant other, spouse and/or children ... get to the gym on a more regular basis ... and especially the ever so important quit smoking or drinking in order to become healthier. All these very admirable goals look soooooooo good on paper (ooops ... screen) ... unfortunately .. for most ... they blatantly appear completely unattainable in practice.

So ... why, I ask you ... if we haven't been able to achieve these things for 365 consecutive days ... do we believe that the magic of January first is going to somehow lift us out of our laziness and denial and give us the serious kick in the ass to accomplish our goals?!?!

I'll tell you why ...... motivation.  Simple, unadulterated, downright MOTIVATION!

We all know that someone with the right motivation is capable of extraordinary accomplishments.  For instance ... take a look at some of these money-related reality shows like Survivor.  These people are put under incredibly horrific circumstances with little to no water and food ... made to endure weeks and weeks of eating weird things like entrails and bugs, sleeping in terribly uncomfortable conditions, made to participate in humiliating competitions, kept away from all their loved ones and modern life as they know it .... and they happily endure ALL this because they are motivated by winning a million dollars!  

What if a doctor told you that if you ate one more cookie or smoked one more cigarette .... that you would drop dead instantaneously .... or if you didn't get on the treadmill at least once a day for 30 minutes that a tiny bomb inserted in your brain would turn your head into a pile of jello .... or if you didn't read your children a book and kiss your significant other every single day and say I love you with as much conviction as your work that they would vanish off the face of the earth never to be seen again?

Yes ... these are all extreme, hyperbolic events ... but as I said above ... with the right motivation we are ALL capable of achieving our goals.

So ... I ask you again .... if there was a million dollars or whatever motivates you ... waiting for you at the end of 2012 if you accomplished your New Year's resolution .... would you endure? 

Dream a little dream with me ... OR ..... Facebook killed my memories.

Facebook is a fascinating entity.  I really think that one day, eventually .... everybody will be somehow interconnected with everyone else in the world ... a la a Kevin Bacon Six Degrees of Separation kind of thing.  This is eerily fascinating because I never really wanted THAT many people in my life to know the intimate details of my daily existence.  Where is the mystery in saying ... 'whatever happened to Joe Blow ... I haven't seen or heard from him in 20 years' and the awesome thing about that is ... you NEVER know ... it is all a wonderful dream.  You can wonder all you want about Joe Blow and make up any colorful story that you want about him ....   But then ... lo and behold THERE'S JOE BLOW on facebook in living color and you find out that he has 6 kids, is divorced and loves fishing, hunting and his favorite movie is Animal House and he has turned into a terribly fat, balding racist.   Thanks to Facebook ... the end to any of life's mysteries are imminently over ladies and gentlemen ... and whether you see that as a good thing or a bad thing says an enormous amount about your romantic view of the world.

There are certain people that you meet along the way in your life and EXPECT never to see again.  You know ... chatting with somebody in line at the grocery store just to be polite ... but then ... you leave and they quickly vanish from your mind as if they never existed.  But with this whole facebook magic .... you can now be friends with every single solitary person that you ever had a scintilla of a brief encounter with and then some!

Recently, I got a friend request from a girl that I went to elementary school with.  I honestly didn't recognize her name at first glance and left her in the courteous 'limbo' pile.  You know .... not 'friending' the requestor but not out and out denying them either.  It is genuinely passive aggressive ... I know ... but it's a nice way to do business and not feel like a total schmuck.

She persisted and private messaged me and it finally dawned on me that I had spent 3 or 4 years with her in a class at Gutermuth Elementary School.  I immediately got this very clear vision of a little girl with a short, brown Dorothy Hamill-esque haircut with freckles planted playfully on her round, full cheeks.

This is Dorothy Hamill
 ... for those of you who missed the 70's                                             

 When I looked through her facebook pictures .... I shockingly saw her mother .... no ... not her mother!  HER!  Where did that little freckled face girl go???  I have to tell you, dear readers, this has thrown me into a horror.  If this little girl doesn't exist anymore ..... where did I go?  Did she look at my picture and see a middle aged lady?  Did she wonder what happened to me only to be shocked that I had the audacity to grow up and grow older.   It's one thing to remember someone a very specific way in your mind's eye but another thing entirely to see the reality of history smacking you right in your 'face'book.  I didn't want to know her as this 2011 person .... I wanted to remember her the way that she was back in 1975 .... stupid facebook ... why couldn't you just leave well enough alone and allow me to have my intact, untarnished memories of yesteryear.

I'm not sure that I like where all of this is going .... (sigh)

Motherly Mayhem

I am the mother of 3 children.  Yes ... I know ... quite shocking, isn't it?   Frankly, I think I'm a pretty decent one ... albeit slightly unconventional .... still I'd give myself a solid B+ on most days.  As I'm sure most of you mothers who are reading this know .... raising children with an abundance of love, structure, discipline and fun is a precarious balancing act.  I adore my children and honestly don't know where I would be in my life without them .... but .... it took me years to utter  these soul crushing words out loud ..."my children are simply not enough for me".

Those seemingly benign words destroyed my parental psyche for the entire first few years as a mother.  I knew I was 'supposed' to love and adore my children and make them my entire life .... well .... that's what all the movies, books, etc.... said.  In reality .... I was slowly losing what was left of my addled mind.  I kept this deep, dark secret tucked away in my brain where it grew and eventually manifested itself in entirely self destructive, crazy ways.

Here is one story to illustrate this:

I was the mother of a 26 month old toddler as well as a 5 month old infant and felt like I was drowning in putrid diapers, drool and depression.  Out of the blue ... I got an exciting phone call from a girlfriend that was originally from Louisville but had recently relocated to New Orleans ... The Big Easy .... !!

French Quarter - Bourbon Street ... where insanity reigns
supreme and we were in there somewhere!

She was looking to put together her own personal Mardi Gras Krue to terrorize the town over a long weekend.  You would think that as a responsible, new mother that I would take a look around at the loving, longing smiles of my children and politely decline her invitation.  Well ... you would be horrendously wrong because if I could have jumped on a plane that very afternoon ... I would have done it.  Instead, I did the next best thing ... I grabbed my girlfriend, Lori ... who was also mother of a 2 year old ... and we made the 10 hour drive to New Orleans a few weeks later much to the shock and dismay of our significant others.

The millisecond we crossed into the state of Louisiana ... I could slowly feel my DNA changing into something exciting and terrifying (you know ... Incredible Hulk style).  The closer we drove to the city of New Orleans ... my proper decision making abilities began to fall quickly out the window and tumble out onto the disappearing highway behind me.  I tell you this for a fact ... the city of New Orleans has a mystical, magical way of luring you into donning a beautiful mask of impropriety.  I have done some of the most embarrassing and elicit acts in New Orleans and all the while believing somehow that they were completely and utterly acceptable in polite society .... which, of course, they were not.

We arrived in New Orleans appropriately at Happy Hour .... which in New Orleans simply means that at any time ... you are physically capable of lifting a glass to your face it is deemed Happy Hour.  My friend Genny greeted us in all her excitement in her lovely Garden District apartment.  We wasted absolutely no time on pleasantries and immediately began to make good use of the box wine that she had chilling in the fridge.  After a few proper glasses of wine .... Genny decided to get a bit randy and mooned me as I was documenting our evening with my newly purchased camera.  Lori saw a tiny tattoo on Genny and screamed ... "YOU HAVE A TATTOO????  I want a tattooooooooo!!"  Thus began our quest to acquire 'ink' for Lori that evening.  But ... not before we downed the entire box of wine and stopped at several pubs on the way to the French Quarter in search of a tattoo parlor.

We stumbled and wandered our way around the French Quarter and finally found 'the place'.  It was down a dark alleyway and from what I remember had a number of n'er do wells hanging out around the entrance smoking and swapping stories.  We burst into the front door and apparently we had all made the instantaneously brilliant decision to procure matching tattoos.  Along the way we had picked up yet another box of wine ... (what in the heck was our obsession with box wine back then??) and decided to share it with everyone in the establishment ... shot style served sans glasses.

Yep ... This is pretty much what we were dealing with.

We finally got down to business and began to get our tattoos.  All I remember is a man with long black hair ... who had an eerie resemblance to an Emo-Dracula poking what I hoped was a sterilized, inked-up needle into my pubic bone.

After it was all said and done ... Genny and I walked outside and waited for Lori to finish her session.  We encountered one of the many tattoo artists outside who had more piercing perforations in his head and body than clove holes on an Easter ham!  I asked if any of them were particularly painful.    He resolutely replied ... only 'the Prince Albert'.  Trying to act uber cool ... I shrugged it off and nodded in agreement as if I had some inkling as to what the hell he was talking about.  Genny, of course, blew our super cool poser cover and said ... 'what the hell's a Prince Albert' .... to which he non-chalantly replied .... "here ... let me just show you ..." and right there and then ... on the streets of New Orleans ... he proceeded to unzip his pants and pull out his wang and show us his 'Prince Albert'.

 Genny and I instinctively decided to play it off as if he was showing us a photo of his blue ribbon winning prize pig .... overly complimenting and smiling but at the same time internally screaming in shock and wondering ... why the hell would somebody have one of those!  (yeah ... go ahead and google it ... WACKY STUFF I tell you!)

Things had gotten weird ... and in New Orleans .... that is saying a tremendous amount.  About that time ... Lori came stumbling out of the tattoo parlor and we quickly ambled down the street in search of a less 'rapey' environment.

It was decided with much fanfare that we should go immediately and without delay to the nearest Walgreens and purchase cherry hair dye in order to festively color each other's hair. Yes ... I know ... sheer brilliance, right?

  I'm not sure of the exact occurences that followed this ingenious turn of events .... but the forensic proof the next morning revealed all.

We blearily awoke the next  early afternoon ... fully clothed and piled aimlessly on the bed ... wreaking of the insanity from the night before.  Against my very skewed better judgment ... I  opened my sticky, partially glued shut eyes and through my bone-dry, sand filled mouth uttered the first brilliant words of the morning ...
" .... what the fuck?!?!"

As I began to look around the apartment ... I saw stained handprints on the walls, dried cherry colored drips all over the carpet and what appeared to be a crumpled up human being deposited haphazardly on the floor.

Then ... something jolted me .... a stinging pain on my pelvis.  "Ouch!!! ..."

I pulled down my jeans and saw a bright white, surgical-like bandage attached to my hip bone.  Oh CRAP!!  As the events of the evening began to sickeningly swirl around my brain .... I suddenly heard a croaking sound come out of my throat and I screamed in the general direction of my cohorts .... "OH MY GA ... OH MY GA .... what did we do ... oh no .... tattoos .... what the .... !!!  My infinitely handicapped brain was not prepared to adjust to the reality that had abruptly presented itself.  My two accomplices wobbled out of bed and immediately looked at their own surgical patch and I watched in slow motion the color physically drain from their already pale, sallow faces.

My mind was crawling over the battered and fragmented exploits of the prior evening .... trying desperately to piece together a timeline .... anything.  There were no words .... we were all in a complete and utter stupor.  Silently we stood there .... staring at each other and then back at the bandage.  We were all simply too terrified ... in the glaring light of day ....  to peak under the surgical patch because not one of us could recall what indelible piece of artwork was going to be staring back at us .... for eternity!!  My mind was working on overtime replaying the events of the evening and pleading silently that the tattoo wasn't something akin to Yosemite Sam or Elmo .... (no offense to either of those two fine characters)

We all decided to rip off the bandages at once .... 1, 2, 3 ... PULL!!!!!

Looking up at me .... was a dainty red heart with swirling ivy on each side.  A collective audible sigh of relief filled the room.  I could not have been more elated in my life!  We all fell into bed laughing and thanking every God, Saint & Angel in our collective personal religious history that this was the only consequence of our debauched evening.

As we picked ourselves up and began to process and analyze the previous evening's events ... it was decidedly apparent that we were clearly not in any shape to be dying our hair.  There was semi-permanent auburn cherry hair dye EVERYWHERE.  On the walls, on the floor, in the bathroom, on our clothing, bodies and least of all .... in our hair!

To this day ... I still feel just horrible about Genny's apartment.  How she explained all that mess to her landlord and not gotten evicted ... I'll never know.

After a long weekend of indulged revelry .... we eventually began our return home .... minus several thousand brain cells and with the addition of our permanent physical keepsake.

Upon our somewhat personal shameful return home ... we were greeted enthusiastically by our families.  Husbands were overjoyed to once again have  their wives back to mother their children ... after what I'm sure was a slightly stressful but fully appreciated undertaking on their part.

All was well with the world .... children were gleeful .... homes were filled with the love and laughter of an intact family unit.

I have a permanent reminder of that crazy, lost weekend more than 14 years ago.  I look at it often and giggle to myself about what haphazard, delinquents we three were so long ago.  I went to New Orleans to have a crazy, fun weekend.  To remind myself that even though my title had changed from Tyra to Mommy and Honey .... that I still hadn't lost myself.  That I could still be a great mother and wife and still keep what innately made me ... ME!  Granted .... in hindsight .... that weekend was probably a bit much of a crazy way to figure that out .... but enlightenment certainly takes on all forms in our lives.

Since that time years ago .... I have made it a point to take at least one 'girl trip' a year.  I think it is important to continue to remind ourselves of our youth .... to commune with yourself and with girlfriends to solidify and rekindle relationships .... and frankly .... to just laugh relentlessly aloud and have a good time.  It certainly makes me a better Tyra ... Mommy ... and Honey.

Bridesmaid Nightmare?!? ... Hell no ... Not at this awesome wedding!

So .... I'm a bridesmaid in a wedding on Friday night.  Yeah, yeah .... oldest living bridesmaid, right??  I thought my days of participating in weddings were long gone.  Lately I have been invited to a few wedding vow renewals as well as weddings of a few children of close friends ... but all but one or two of my friends have been married divorced and married again for many years!  So when I got the invitation to be a bridesmaid ... at first I was a bit stunned and then incredibly proud to be asked to stand beside two spectacularly awesome people on one of the most important days in their lives.

The bride is a very cool (and I mean that in every sense of the word) local musician named Brigid Kaelin (geez .... I hope she doesn't mind me name dropping her) and her husband to be is David Caldwell.  She is Louisville personified through and through .... and by that ... I mean she eats, lives and breathes all the best of this little 'burg that we call home. She is one of those great gal friends that you could have a crazy adventure with or have a funky fab day lazing about doing nothing.    David is from Lubbock, Texas and truly lives up to the ideal of a strikingly handsome, genteel, stand-up southern guy.  Cupid must have really known what he was doing when he pulled back that bow and arrow on Brigid and David ...  because I tell you in all honesty ... I could not imagine either of these two wonderful people surviving a day without each other in their respective lives.  He is the calmness and patience that she needs in her life.  She is the spunk and artistic vibe that revs his engine.

yeah ... all of these would have been
a BIG 'no go' for me ... but David
probably would have loved the Texas
themed dress in the left lower corner!

After the excitement of the wedding announcement subsided.  It was time to get down to brass tacks and start planning the wedding.  Brigid was way beyond kind in her very wide parameters in regard to the bridesmaid dresses.  She essentially picked out a theme color and said to go find something in this 'color range'.  Do you know how CRAZY unique and unusual that is in the much more common world of wedding bridezillas???? WOW ...  That's it?!? ... No crazy couture crap?? ... no micro-managing the fittings or the silhouettes??  Just .... 'here's a color' .... have at it!  This was a complete and utter relief to me because at my age .... cutesy little bridesmaids dresses would have looked like I was participating in a bad Saturday Night Live skit.   I mean, if Brigid picked out a terribly unflattering dress ... as her friend .... of course, I would be supportive ... suck it up and wear it (cussing under my breath her every step down the aisle).

But .... the freedom of picking out our own dresses was something of a very generous gift and a tremendous treat!  So ... off I went to find a flattering dress that could hold up to the humidity and hot late July Kentucky weather.   As a lot of my friends know ... I am not a great in-store shopper.  I have very little patience for sales people and far shorter tempered with parking and walking through dozens of stores.  So ... I do what any 21st century bridesmaid does .... I head to the internet! I shopped relentlessly online for a few weeks and finally found a few dresses on-line that fit the bill.  I ordered both and decided on the one that I thought fit me and the event the best.   Brigid and David haven't seen my dress yet and hopefully she will be happy with my choice.

So ... as I head into the end of this week and eagerly anticipate the wedding events to come .... I will take in every moment for Brigid and David because as this seasoned ol' married gal knows .... it is an absolute whirl wind and incredibly difficult to stay present in the moment and appreciate the magnitude of the day.  I have a feeling, though ... knowing Brigid and David .... that in all the hectic craziness of the day .... no matter what they forget or miss .... they will never forget that precious moment that they say 'I Do'.

I love you both!

t