Oh the foods you will food (part 2)

So. I made it back alive from the most amazing week of being on a tiny island called Cao Costa. However comma, this post is not going to include any of those pictures or adventures, so you will just have to stay tuned.

Instead, here follows a quick pic trip back through the foods my wonderful Nate made for that epic birthday week I spent with him.

The first meal we actually had was this amazing Indian dish. This is actually happening right after we pressed the tortilla shells for the next day.

Coconut! Nate’s toasting coconut for the coconut rice that is the delicious base for the saucy yummyness that I think was called chicken tikka masala. I could quite possibly be wrong about the name, but that’s not so important. For the record, toasted coconut is oh-so-easy and oh-so-tasty.

Making coconut rice in a rice maker is ridiculously easy. Jasmine rice, coconut milk, toasted coconut are thrown (literally, from across the room and with deadly accuracy) into the pot and then promptly forgotten about.

And now the chicken and onions. I had a laugh when Nate meticulously sliced the onions so they would be the perfect size and shape, but later ate my words because they cooked perfectly in time with the chicken. I can never do that, so I’ve become a fan of burnt onions. Heh.

We are cheater cheater pumpkin eaters because we used a sauce pouch, but OH MAN it was a good sauce pouch.

Step one: pour sauce on your perfectly sauteed chicken and onions. Step two: simmer it until your stomach eats itself. Step three: take obnoxious pictures of the boy you love stirring said simmering sauce.

Step four: gaze upon the beauty.

While I’m fully aware that what I’m eating looks like the contents of a particularly vile diaper, the taste THE TASTE is spectacular. Pair with some wine or, better yet, an IPA and you’ve got a meal that’s so good it doesn’t matter that you’re sitting on the floor because the cat has peed on the couch.

And NEVER forget dessert, especially if it’s homemade chocolate milk with whipped cream and cinnamon.

Hokay. Now, this is the actual date of my birth. Here you see some peaches simmering down for a Paula Dean cobbler (in the words of Nate, “if you’re going to make a peach cobbler, then you’re going to use Paula’s recipe.”).

Nate is also rendering some fatty mcfats for a gravy, and we’ve got full pan coverage on the stovetop. This is going to be a production. Such a production, in fact, that I have very little pictures of the process.

OHMYGOSHMEAT. And beans and wine and somewhere, potatoes. We’re trying to multitask around each other here – I’m making cobbler and helping prep green beans, Nate’s making gravy and steaks and potatoes and just generally being in charge. Good times.

I HAD to take a moment to document this: gravy made from scratch. Mushrooms, onions, garlic, rendered fat, wine. Drool.

Candlelight picnic for my birthday! The best ever. Nate even went out and found my favorite wine. He’s too sweet! The food was too delicious! I’m going to explode from love!

“Dear, you should eat before it gets cold. Take pictures of the candles later.” Wiser words have been spoken, but it’s still good advice.

Cobbler! My first ever, and thanks to Paula Dean, fabulous! We stuck a huge pillar candle in it and sang happy birthday to me and then gorged ourselves. I also may or may not have taken more than two tries to blow out the candle. The ONE candle. Whatever… the cobbler was delicious, and we of course had it warm with vanilla ice cream and whipped cream.

Anywhoo, that’s the end of the birthday fooding, but there was quite a bit more that week. I’m just going to continue with random pictures of those foods now, so sit back and enjoy.

Venison burgers (a deer Nate killed all by his onesy) with mushrooms, onions, colby cheese and spinach. Mac and cheese with bread crumblies! We debated making the rolls ourselves, but decided against it due to time constraints. Slider rolls from the grocery store instead!

Spaghetti with venison meatballs, green beans, and garlic bread! Homemade homemade homemade! YUM YUM YUM! Uuuumm, pee ess, as hesitant as I am to admit to this, we watched the newest Twilight ridiculousness during this meal. WE MOCKED IT THE ENTIRE TIME, and even watched an entire scene in ultra zoom, which made it waaaaaaaaaay better. Oh yeah.

Before I left, while Nate was doing homework, I made white pizza! Crust from scratch, loaded with mushrooms, onions, spinach, garlic, and cheese. It was a huge success, if I do say so myself, which I do.

Ok. So that ends the week of amazing fooding and love that was my birthday. I am now inspired to eat my own dinner (at 8pm) and it will be oatmeal. Delicious, gut-sticking oatmeal. I haven’t grocery shopped in a couple of weeks. Here’s a picture of my cats to send you on your way, wonderful reader.

I would just like to point out that El is draped lethargically on my legs and Charlie is trying to blind himself. And that is all.

 

182.32 miles

That’s how far away my love is. It takes so long to get there… even though on the map it’s only a few inches.

I just made the drive back after spending an amazing six days celebrating my birthday and just being with him. It’s so counter intuitive to voluntarily get in a car and drive 3 hours away from who you want to be with most. I hate it. I hate being so far away, and add two work schedules and a clinical schedule to our lives and you can guess how often i get to see him. We went almost 2 months apart once. I am well aware that there are couples that spend close to a year apart, but that really doesn’t make me feel any less pain.

I am planning on moving down to be closer to him in May. I’m both excited and terrified by this plan, having never figured out how to align getting an apartment and a job in another state. I shouldn’t be extremely concerned; I have to remember that millions of people have done this before me. I survived the first move, out of my parent’s house, so this is the next step.

I do love my apartment here in Corning, though. It’s small and sweet with a crumbling charm all it’s own. The light filters through the stained glass border on the large middle window in my living room, and the kitchen is bright and welcoming. The door to the roof may be ridiculously rickety, but it serves its purpose and I love the “porch” it leads to. I have filled the space to the brim with my belongings, but there always seems to be room for one more kitchen appliance or colorful tapestry. I have learned to be economical with what little flat surfaces there are; doing my art on the kitchen table and then hastily cleaning it for dinner. In fact, I basically live at my kitchen table; it’s become the all-purpose surface.

The only things I would change would be the shower head (it’s not higher than my head), the kitchen sinks (they are barely deep enough to soak a pot), and the narrow unlit stairwell (how many times has that light bulb burned out?). Still, I’ve made do with even those inconveniences. I got a swiveling shower head that I can point straight out, I do my dishes in the bathtub, and I’ve got a light on my keychain that brightens the darkest alley. I am content here, except for the distance between me and Palmyra. I’ve no doubt that I will find an equally charming apartment there, and I will make it feel like home in no time.

Until then, I will travel the 182.32 miles to see my love for a few days at a time; and I will cherish every minute we spend together. It’s also a lovely drive through the valleys and along the Susquehanna river.

Oh, and there’s also these guys for me here… but obviously they’ll also be coming with me down to Pennsylvania.

Say hello to Charlie (orange) and Elliot (gray). Charlie’s full name is Charlemagne Hobbes, but I’ve never called him that. Usually it’s Charliepants, Charzard, or Charzipan. Elliot is just El; and they both are goobs, poops, doods, or beans.

I love them dearly and could relate punkish stories of their antics for hours. Someday I might record my favorite ones, but for now I’ll just say that they are both curled up at my feet, cuddled together and asleep. These are the moments I think back on when they decide to practice their tag-team destruction antics.

Ahh, life.