grapefruit_FeedMeDearly

I was 24 when a Mexican bird pooped on my face.

How did I know the bird was Mexican? Because we were in Mexico. In all fairness, he could have been an ambitious American bird who’d flown too far south for the winter. But for the purpose of this story, I’ll assume that he was Mexican. And that he was a he because aim was a factor.

It happened during my first trip to Mexico with the man I now call my husband. We’d been on a family vacation with his parents, and had made the last-minute decision to extend our stay. Both of us were in the midst of job transitions and were lucky enough that our calendars overlapped.

Initially, our spur of the moment hotel/apartment search was a flop; nothing was available. His parents weren’t happy that poolside Margaritas had been replaced by a frantic search for a strip mall hotel or kindhearted landlord who would take us in.

Towards the end of our planned vacation, we found ourselves apartment-hunting in downtown Acapulco when a bird, possibly a Condor or a Falcon, pooped on my face.

We didn’t actually see the bird, but Rodney, combining his high school biology and college-level math skills, made some rough estimates based on the poop surface area. Thankfully it had missed my eye, but covered a broad swath of my right cheek. Although I never actually saw the wreckage, I distinctly remember the sensation. Like a mug of hot chocolate had been splashed in my face.

These discussions happened after the fact of course. Rodney’s immediate reaction was to slip into a mild shock, recover, and then attempt to clean it off. A little too quickly I might add, because instead of wiping it off my cheek sideways, he barehanded it down over the corner of my mouth. Our Cat 4 problem had now escalated to a Cat 5.

We needed water. And not your standard issue garden hose as that would have increased the likelihood of a second gastrointestinal flesh-eating disease.

The hunt began for a bodega and bottled water. It wasn’t long before we found one and in that same back alley where the Condor had made me his personal latrine, we washed our tainted bodies.

cincodemayo

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Pumpkin seeds

This is a bit of a stretch vegetable because pumpkin seeds seem more like a snack food than a proper vegetable. That being said, despite the roasting and salting, they’re healthy and packed with beta carotene. The kids didn’t feel strongly one way or another, but at least it was a semi win with a semi healthy food. So does that leave me ahead or behind in spurring my kids to eat healthy foods? I think we moved an inch in the right direction…

ME: What is it guys?

SAM: Nuts?

ME: It’s not nuts.

LAUREN: Of course not nuts.

ME: Lauren can’t eat nuts.

LAUREN: Ok, wait, let me smell. Fresh bologna?

ME: Fresh bologna? No, not that. You smell it Sam.

EMMA: Can I smell? Can I smell? Let me smell.

LAUREN: Pretzels?

ME: Not pretzels.

EMMA: Juice.

ME: It’s not juice. Ok. Who wants to feel one in their hands? Do you think it’s heavy or light?

LAUREN and EMMA: Light.

ME: Ok. Well, let’s see. What do you think [to Sam]? Heavy or light? Put down your sword.

SAM: I want water.

ME: Put down your sword.

SAM: I want water.

ME: I haven’t heard please yet.

SAM: Please.

ME: Ok. Hold on. Hold this so I can get you some water. Is it heavy or light?

SAM: It’s light.

ME: Light.

LAUREN: Light.

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kiss_FeedMeDearly

April is a special month, my husband and I share birthdays 10 days apart, and 10 days later we get to celebrate my dog Jackson’s birthday.

I’ll be honest, I know that a multibillion dollar pet industry sells treats, clothes, and raw/paleo food to our favorite companions, but I’m a bit stingy when it comes to pet gifts.

Because as much as he seems human, he does in fact eat frozen goose poop, which leads me to believe that these gifts would generally go unappreciated.

That being said, I do like to celebrate his birthday, and give him a better day than normal (normal meaning a long walk in the morning, unfettered access to my face for kisses and breakfast crumbs, and the ability to sit in my lap while I attempt to work).

Just like Kim & Kanye might opt for a lavish birthday weekend in place of a simple celebration on the day of, we likewise decided that several days of festivities would be more suitable for our furry friend.

We started our Saturday with a leisurely walk along the Hudson.

walk_FeedMeDearly

Lauren wanted me to take some pictures of her with Jack, I obliged. The problem was that ungluing him from my side was upsetting, and it was his birthday after all, so I let him do what made him feel comfortable. Which was howl at the moon and beg for an escape…

howl_FeedMeDearly

…and then pin me against the barrier for what I would imagine to be a pretty serious make out session. But as much as I love him, I can’t always give a brother what he wants.

Poor Jack had to settle for some companionship of the less frisky variety.

pier_FeedMeDearly

Even Sam and Lauren got caught up in the moment.

pier-hug_FeedMeDearly

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herbgarden

Friends, I’m writing to you from a very special place. It was a journey to get here, taking nearly 20 years, and 4 separate apartments across 3 cities and 2 states. To be fair, it’s more of a group than a place. As distinctive and special as the other groups that I’ve wanted to join but haven’t had the guts…..“those who have run marathons”, or “those who have jumped out of planes”.

And why? Minimal training is required. Cost is low, value is high. You can do it in your spare time, and if you kill them, others are for sale.

I’m not talking about adopting a family of hamsters. I’m talking about growing your own herbs.

After the early and tragic deaths of one too many sickly Whole Foods basil plants, I finally got my act together and bought a new breed of houseplant. A set of hardier herbs in actual pots that I tend to with regularity. Whole Foods, as much as I love you, those twiggy little basil plants that offer the promise of pesto by the batch, they’ve let me down. They wither the minute I get them home; all the sunlight in the world, a garden to graze and an emerald green thumb wouldn’t keep them alive.

It’s only been a week, but I’m proud to report back that early signs suggest that my real, authentic, farmers’ market herbs are in fact growing. All three! The apple mint, the rosemary, and the forest parsley, which looks like your garden variety curly parsley but with a more intense parsley taste.

I’ve seen graphic images floating around the Internet that compare a brain on cocaine to a brain on sugar. Apparently our body chemistry responds the same way, which isn’t surprising, we all know that sugar is addictive. I may suggest a third category of addiction: brain on herbs. Fresh herbs, not marijuana. That would be the inverse chart. Pure conjecture, but reflecting on my college days, the pot smokers weren’t leaping from the couch, breaking out a Mandoline and thinly slicing radishes. Nor were they following it up immediately by muddling herbs and lime for a sparkling Spring cocktail. That, my friends, is herb addiction.

Herb addiction touches everyone in a family. I’ve had to caution the kids against overwatering because their red toy watering bucket has made the trek across our hardwood floors a few too many times. Not to mention the residual spillage on our couch, which to be honest, knew better days before we owned a dog. But still. It has a few good years left, preferably without mildew and water marks.

Take a trip down memory lane with me. It’s only been a week, but putting down the chef knife was hard with freshly-grown herbs at my fingertips.

breakfast

Six minute egg with tomato & watermelon radish salad with mint and parsley

lamb

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Napa cabbage

We had such great success with red cabbage earlier this year that I thought Napa cabbage would be a shoe in. Aside from the Michael Jackson situation that we’ll all forget together, it was a great experiment. Napa cabbage, happening again, soon. And feel free to use the squiggly little friend line, it worked like a charm. 

ME: Look guys. What is this silly vegetable?

LAUREN: It looks like salad greens.

ME: Yeah?  Sam, look at it.  Want to reach in and grab one?  It’s squiggly. You can hold them in your hand.

SAM: No.

ME: It’s like a little friend. You guys have actually tried something similar to this already this year.  It was one of the first —

EMMA: Let’s eat it.

ME:  — foods that you tried.

LAUREN: Cabbage. Oh my god, so good.

ME: Yeah!  Stop shoveling it into your mouth like that, you’ll choke.

EMMA: Yeah.

ME: So do you remember when we tried red cabbage?  You guys all liked red cabbage.  So maybe you will like this kind of cabbage, which is called… Napa cabbage. 

SAM: It’s like a little friend. [giggling]

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