Hello Chicago!

Trust me.  The picture above is not an exaggeration… it is that cold.  In fact, I think my nose was still a little chilly.

Actually, John and I also considered opening with this picture.

Also accurate, but my lack of hat might be deceiving, so I instead led with my accidental Kenny impersonation.  However the second picture does resemble an upside-down octopus or maybe one of those science-fair globes that lights up when you touch it, which is quite nice.

Pushing boundaries…

Approximately 15 seconds after taking the above picture, I dropped my fish on the ground. I believe I was the only professionally trained student in the class and the only one who had to pick blades of grass from their fish’s gills. Nice.

I’ve been yammering on about River Cottage in Axminster, England recently, for example here and here. After our weekend vacation to Axminster, John headed back to Norwich for work, and I stayed on to take the Fish Class. I knew we’d be working with the whole fish, partly the reason I signed up. Fillet’s really don’t jive with the mission of River Cottage, and my goal was to stare each fish straight in the eye and tackle any bubbling squeamishness. I needed a mentor to take away the mystery of working with a whole fish, someone to guide me through and make it seem everyday. And that… I found.

River Cottage: A Video Reflection

Not sure it translates in the video above, but I am surprised John’s microphone didn’t pick up the audible buzz of my childlike excitement. Sitting now, aboard my return trip from England, my thoughts reflect on the many blessings that aligned this trip. I first crossed this same pond half-planned and cautiously ready to improvise. Comfort rested in the knowledge that the portion of my soul I can only describe as a “traveler” had surprised me with her returned presence. She was very palpable during my early twenties, but snoozed in my late, allowing me to instead focus on the gift of responsibility – learning to cook, getting married, starting a small business and everything else that fills our days. Yet, she returned, to grace me with her presence, once again. She saw experiences I wanted to have, people I wanted to meet, and I welcomed her return. Hello England.

Did you bring the camera?

The answer to the question was sadly, no. We forgot the camera.

Hello England.

Ten Nourishing Tips – WAPF 2010

Mom and I just got back from the Weston A. Price Foundation yearly conference. Here we are, front row, first arrivals to one of our favorite lectures. In the words of my husband, N-E-R-D-S!

Last year, I described how the conference made me want to run around and shove the whole experience in my purse. That feeling must only be experienced by first-timers, right? Nope. This year, I got so excited that I lost all personal belongings. Literally, I would leave my phone at the sign in booth, and before sprinting back downstairs to snag it, I’d set my camera down on the water-fountain. Press repeat.

Grass-fed butter and little tutus

My sister-in-law is pregnant. She is so cute. Big belly. Big happy. Big love. And in honor of her big belly, I took a trip to her city of Chicago strategically planned around the Weston A. Price Foundation conference and Megan’s baby shower. Mom made the trip to join in on all of the above, and great fun was had by all.

Alkalizing Las Vegas

Two weekends ago, John and I went to Las Vegas for a screening of Rock Prophecies at the Mirage, and this past weekend, we camped at Catalina Island, attempting to cleanse Las Vegas from our frightened souls…

Have you ever spent much time in Vegas? I hadn’t. Only 2 day trips in the past, in and out, for specific reasons. This time, we crossed the throngs of foggy people to the check-in desk on Thursday afternoon and didn’t haul tail out of there till Sunday morning. A short drive out of Vegas lies many of nature’s wonders, but while heading out for a walk Friday morning, I asked the concierge which direction I could walk to experience a bit of nature. His reply, after searching for it on the ceiling, was no. Just no. Here’s me below… staring out the smokey window of our suite… plotting my exit strategy. Fruitlessly. Check out the slouched shoulders… hahah… poor girl.

Dancing with Seattle.

I’ve gotta narrow my Seattle trip down for you. Just the highlights. In honor of all the kids who have to head back to school this week, awash in structure and syllabuses, I am going to tell you about my Seattle trip with no timeline at all… for the kids.

As a matter of fact, why don’t we just skip right to the good stuff. Chew the lollipop.

I got to go to Delancey. For those of you who may not be obsessively interested in a girl named Molly Wizenberg, there’s a food blog called Orangette that you must not have visited yet. And a book called “A Homemade Life,” that is begging you to read it. And once you do, you will be hoping a plane to Seattle, sitting at the counter of an adorable and sophisticated restaurant that doesn’t even have signage yet, eating one of the most delicious pizzas you have ever eaten and eavesdropping as Molly’s husband, Brandon, bakes your pie in a beautiful brick oven – right before your eyes. He’s nice, too. You could probably even talk to him, but if you are anything like me, you will just mumble something about how good the pizza is while you sit in giddy silence and chew. Here’s me geeked out. My hair is pulled back in a pony-tail. Unfortunately, it needed that preface. Brandon must have ducked, and Molly W. is tucked away behind the brick oven cranking out delicate and satisfying salads made with locally sourced greens. I am sporting a post-salad grin.

The legendary molokai purple sweet potato

John’s film Rock Prophecies just played at the Maui Film Festival. First off, it won another audience award! It won the audience award at Nashville Film Festival, Dallas AFI Festival, and now Maui Film Festival, and it is a very special honor. This type of award is determined by an audience vote at the end of each screening. The highest collective vote wins, which means this film is connecting to people! Nothing more important than that, right? The Maui Festival also held a deeper meaning for Robert Knight, the rock n’ roll photographer who is the subject of the film, because his childhood home was Hawaii.