They paved paradise and put up a parking lot

...or just a nicer alley.

Either way, as I was walking around downtown the other day, I noticed that the infamous red brick alley from our wedding pictures had been paved over.


It looks like there will be no more shots like these in the future:


Although it makes me a little sad that they paved over the rough alleyway that I will never forget dodging the potholes/puddles in my white dress, it makes me happy to know that I will forever have lasting proof of how it once looked...raw and jagged, but so beautiful.

Peace out, little alleyway...happy trails to you :o)

Bar fun, bar none

I've had to wait a few days to publish this post for a few reasons:

1. Stephen was OOT and I wanted him to be surprised
2. It took me a few days to actually acquire the item
3. I wanted to decorate around the item before I posted pictures

What's this "item" I am talking about, you ask? It's none other than a BAR!

As you can probably guess by reading my blog, we've gone a little OOC on acquiring a fully stocked bar. I have seen Stephen looking at bars for a few months now. Truthfully, we entertain a lot, and we really did have a need for one.

Last Saturday, Mrs. Chen and I decided to take a leisurely stroll through Crate & Barrel (= naughty). While we were there, I spotted a few bars that I thought were really awesome. To my surprise, Stephen agreed to go look at them the next day. We found one we both liked, but decided not to buy it.

Well, Stephen decided not to buy it.

I decided to buy it and surprise him when he got back from PA for work that week. I couldn't think of anything better to use all those C&B gift cards on that we got from the wedding.

Once Stephen left on Wednesday, I enlisted the help of the lovely Mrs. Chen and her Honda Fit to pick up the bar. I called the Oak Brook store for the box measurements and found out that I would have to buy it from the C&B in Geneva because they didn't have it in stock.

I gave the measurements to Mrs. Chen and she measured her car to make sure it would fit.

Wednesday Night

It's around 6:30 and we've made the trek all the way out to Geneva to pick up the bar. As soon as Mrs. Chen starts backing the Fit up to the loading dock, the loading guy frowns and says there is no way it will fit. I tell him that I called ahead for the measurements to make sure it would fit in the Fit, so we should be fine.

Stupid Oak Brook store and their incorrect measurements.

Never ones to leave on a sad note, Mrs. Chen and I head off to CPK for some pizza, and more importantly, drinks (to drown our sorrows, of course).

Thursday Night

Since we had to pick up the bar ASAP, Mrs. Chen and I again made the trek to Geneva (yawn) after work. But first, we had to stop in Naperville to grab her mom's minivan. I will swear up and down that I will never get a minivan, but thank goodness for one in this case.


After spending about 10 minutes trying to figure out how to take out the back seats, we were off (again)!

This time, the bar fit right in (thank G because I don't think I could handle another post-work trip to Geneva). We stopped for some soup at Corner Bakery and made the 45 minute trek back to the DG.


This is where it starts to get interesting. As we open up the van, we take a deep breath as we realize just how stinking huge this box is. And then we realize how heavy it is when we can't even get our fingers under the box to lift it out. I believe Mrs. Chen said something to the effect of, "But the Crate & Barrel guy made this look so easy!"

With no other choice but to make fun of our situation, this is when the constant flow of laughter begins. By the time we got the thing to the elevator (which took about 20 minutes of rearranging, pushing, and pulling through too-small doors and hallways), I felt like I had just ran a triathlon.



Once we got upstairs, it was almost 10PM and I realized that we would have to calm down on the laughing since my building is mostly senior citizens. Also realizing that this would be darn near impossible, I decided to run down the hallway before I completely lost it. Apparently, Mrs. Chen wasn't expecting my sudden outburst of activity, as evidenced by the constant almost-stifled giggling that is present in the video below:

And also maybe the fact that I ran the box into the wall at the end.

No longer able to contain our laughing, we run inside and practically fall on the floor in tears. This blurry picture is attempting to show just how hard Mrs. Chen was laughing.


Once we pulled ourselves together (10 minutes later), we started to unwrap the bar.
Thankfully, 95% of the cabinet was already assembled, so the only thing we really had to do was put on the legs. Of course, if it hadn't been assembled, we probably could have fit it in Mrs. Chen's car in the first place. But I digress.

The only other thing we had to do was to decide where to put the shelves. While Mrs. Chen was putting the pegs in the holes, she asked for a hammer so she could fully insert them. Unfortunately, the hammers are in the depths of the 2nd bedroom renovation pile, so I was forced to give her one of my platform shoes to hammer them in.


It worked like a charm. And I now have further justification to buy more shoes.


So, without further ado, I present our bar. Please come over and try it out!


(P.S. - you're impressed by my mad mirror-hanging skills, aren't you? I did that ALL BY MYSELF. You try hanging 6 mirrors all level with exactly 1 inch between them and no hanging hardware on the mirror!)

(P.P.S. - Stephen loves the bar :) )

Library across the street? Yes, please!

One of my favorite things about living in the DG is being across the street from the library. This arrangement has already proven to be incredibly beneficial and has saved me from spending $ to buy books. It has also saved me money by not being sent to collections for an overdue library book again.

Yes, I admit it. The one and only time I have ever been sent to collections was for owing less than $6 on a library book that I forgot I had back in college (Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand...once you've been sent to collections, you don't forget these things.). One day, I got a call from a bill collector saying that I owed money for a past due library book.

Okay, first of all, when the heck did libraries start sending people to collections for owing less than $6?!

Second, COME ON. Doesn't it cost more to actually hire a collections agency to track down library "criminals" than it would to, oh, I don't know, call them yourself?

By the time all was said and done, I ended up paying over $60 in fees for one overdue library book that wasn't even a month overdue.

I also had a close scare a few months before I moved when I found one of my library books in my roommate's room (no comment). Being sufficiently schooled in the methods of library collection escalation, I immediately called my library to see how much I owed. I was told that they had just sent the account to collections that day (for owing $4.11, mind you), but I could hurry and try to pay it off that night to cancel the request. I was "fortunate" enough that they didn't send it to collections after all.

/end rant

That being said, it is no longer out of my way to return (or acquire) library books, so I am one happy woman!

The vanilla bean is queen

I decided to conduct an experiment on something that I have wondered about for a long time: Does it make a difference to use a real vanilla bean versus vanilla extract?

We've all seen the recipes that call for a real vanilla bean, and we've all passed them up or substituted vanilla extract. Well, I had enough. I wanted to know what (if anything) I was missing out on.

Enter: Banana cream pie, Williams-Sonoma recipe.

I've made this recipe before, so I knew how it tasted with vanilla extract. I also knew that it was a darn good recipe, so I knew there would be little left to improve upon. So I got out my pink apron and got to cooking.

The results? The vanilla bean was good...nay...it was AMAZING. Every time Stephen takes a bite of it, he always comments, "I really like the vanilla flavor in this. A lot." If something is good enough for Stephen to continually offer praise, even hours after eating it, I know it is that good. The presents a problem. Now I know what I am missing...and Stephen knows what he is missing too. So, it looks like I'll be stuck paying exorbitant prices for vanilla beans in the future for those extra special desserts.

Like brother, like sister

Early on in my relationship with Stephen, I began to notice things that he seems to have in common with his sister, Theresa, or various other members of his family. Brad and I have even made a game of comparing "notes" on things that each of them seem to do on a regular basis (such as just leaving broken glass on the floor).

Well, folks, we've reached a new level in their sibling bond.

Tonight, while reading Theresa's blog post about looking for drink recipe books, I immediately noticed something. There was a picture of the book Stephen bought 3 weeks ago...and it appears that Theresa bought the same book too!

Here is a picture of our book (not like you need to see it since the same book is in Theresa's blog).



To make this situation even more funny, my blog post that Theresa mentions in her blog post (are you with me here?) has this book in the picture (it is laying in the front):

Out of all the hundreds of bar books in a bookstore, they picked out the same one. Go fig.

My husband, the chef

Growing up, I always assumed that when I got married, I would be the one cooking amazing meals every night and my husband would be in awe of my cooking abilities. He would ponder how on earth I cooked such meals, and swear that he could never manage to cook something without me.

source

That's not exactly what happened.

Don't get me wrong, I know my way around a kitchen and can pretty much cook anything I put my mind to, but there's a major flaw I have: I need recipes. If you were to ask me to cook a meal with ground beef, mushrooms, and onions as the main ingredients, my first stop would be my trusty Good Housekeeping cookbook.

Stephen, on the other hand, doesn't need or like recipes. Using totally random ingredients, he can whip up a culinary masterpiece. One time he made a phenomenal casserole using mashed potatoes, spaghetti sauce, noodles, and American cheese (yes, really). Every time I say that we don't have food in the house, he proves my wrong by presenting some gourmet-worthy dish. Case in point:
One night, I had a rough day and was feeling particularly worn out. I took a pretty thorough look in our sans-shelf fridge and determined that we didn't have any food for dinner. Stephen innocently asked if I would like him to make dinner so I could relax.

1. MAJOR bonus points - how sweet is that?!
   
2. Who am I to come between my man and dinner?
3. Since he mentioned it, relaxing did sound nice...
   

A few minutes pass and all of the sudden he emerges with those. How he comes up with ideas like this, I have no idea. But one thing is for sure - I would have never been able to pull that off.

The result of his culinary prowess is a severe lack of culinary confidence on my part. When we go into stores and he asks what we should have for dinner, my mind goes blank. It doesn't help any that Stephen can be a picky eater (despite what he says), and he always seems to have a vision of what he ideally wants for dinner...and my vision usually doesn't align with that.

I'm sure we'll get into the groove of things as time goes on. Until then, he'll been busy cooking like a chef...and I'll be busy cooking with one hand on a cookbook.

Le Sigh

I'm going to have to copy a blog subject from Theresa again. After she wrote about her love of her Le Creuset cookware, I was inspired to write one of my own.

Apparently, all my lusting over Theresa's French Dutch oven paid off, because I hit the jackpot once I got married. Not only did I receive every Le Creuset item I registered for, I received more (THANK YOU AUNT LOUISE I LOVE YOU!).

At first, I devoted an entire cabinet just for my lovelies, but then I couldn't stand that they were tucked away in some dark cabinet and out of site. These beauties deserve to be admired and greeted with a, "Hello, lovers!" every time I walk in the kitchen.

Without further ado, I present my collection:

Yes, you see that correctly. I even have a Le Creuset cake stand, batter bowl, and mortar and pestle (or, as Stephen calls it, a pistol)!

I cannot tell you how amazing this cookware is. I have never seen something cook food so evenly and easily. Those who love Le Creuset love it for a reason...accept no imitations! I had a cast iron Dutch oven that seems like I was cooking with a Fisher-Price toy compared to what I have now. And that frying pan given to us by Mrs. Chen? That thing browns meat like nobody's business. I will never part with it.

I am so obsessed with my Le Creuset collection, that I insist upon cleaning them immediately after they are done being used because I can't stand the thought of them sitting there with old food all stuck to their sides. One night, Stephen suggested that we, "wait until later" to do the dishes, and I must have looked at him like he had 3 heads. Poor guy.

And yes, the rumor is true. Stephen was absolutely convinced that the cast iron pans could not go in the oven at all. He went so far as to say, "Go ahead, put them in the oven. But don't be surprised when they crack in half." Even a visit to the Le Creuset website that listed care instructions for their cast iron pans would not satisfy him because it didn't specifically call out, "enameled cast iron" (which he originally swore was porcelain, but I digress). It didn't matter that my mother uses the Le Creuset pan handed down from her mother and we used to put it in the oven all the time while I was growing up. It wasn't until I threatened to call his mother that he finally gave up...and by gave up, I mean that he started tickling me so I literally couldn't talk about it anymore.

Alright, it's clear that I have gotten a little carried away about this topic.

Le sigh.