Food and Life and Summertime

Isn't it interesting how food can evoke such vivid memories? The taste, the color, the smell, the texture; it all brings us back to particular places and specific times in our lives. For me, summertime ushers in especially intense memories as seasonal fruits and vegetables take me back to my childhood growing up in the green, green forests of the East Coast, surrounded by my Mom's gardens and enjoying homegrown fruits and vegetables every day.



It's something as simple as the smell of rosemary that reminds me of the red skinned potato salad we would get from the small grocer down the street from our house, or corn on the cob that remind me of my Mom and Dad, sitting on the steps shucking corn- the silky fibers and rough, snappy green husks going everywhere. It's the snap of the green beans into the colander, the smell of red, ripe tomatoes on the vine, or even Ball Park franks, Heinz ketchup and Gulden's spicy mustard that remind me of nightly barbeques in our backyard.

Summer is a lot of things, but to me it's always that first trip up to Carvel, gelatis from Rita's, or the ice cream truck at the park. It's the way orange and cream anything instantly transports me to the boardwalk, seagulls squawking and swooping in the distance, the ocean sounds mixing with laughing children, the smell of sunscreen and salt hanging in the air, all while enjoying a special treat- an orange and cream ice cream cone from Kohr's. The beach will always remind me of Gouda cheese and crackers, peanut butter and jelly on wheat bread, and how amazing crisp green grapes can taste under a big umbrella, on a brightly-colored towel. Summertime is slurpees from 7-11, sub sandwiches from Wawa, and berries. Always berries, every summer, and the first ripe raspberries of the season will always evoke memories of eating them by the handful out of my parents' refrigerator.





And so I think a lot about what we feed Henry and the experiences we give him through food. I look forward to having our own big garden he can help me plant and maintain. I am excited to shuck corn with him, pick our own berries from the bush in our backyard, and to enjoy experiences from the things we prepare and eat every single day, be it making homemade pizza in the kitchen, barbequing tofu kebabs out back, or taking a family trip up to Dairy Queen when the temperatures start to rise. Being a parent is great for a million reasons, but one of my favorites in the ability to make your child's environment as beautiful and magical as possible, in so many different ways. For me, summertime has always been a time full of adventure and enjoyment, filled with sweet treats and healthy, whole foods. And so I look forward to giving our boy as many of those ice cream-cone and fresh fruit-filled summers as I can, making memories from the simple, everyday things that somehow turn special in the shine of the summer sun.

Sad/happy

Last night I was up late (way too late) and decided to look through some old photobooth photos while Henry was asleep and Hank was at the studio. BAD IDEA. I found myself crying, watching little videos Henry and I made, looking at old funny pictures, and reveling in how teeny tiny he once was. I thought about a lot, but mainly about how quickly Henry's first year went by and about how he'd never be that small, ever again. I looked through photos I had taken while he slept on my chest, photos of his first smiles, pictures of his adorable bald head. I got to hear his little coos and listen to the funny sounds he made as a newborn. It was also neat to see myself as a brand new Mom. It made me realize just how painfully fast time has gone by. It was tough, and as I sat there crying and laughing I thought about how grateful I feel to have had all of these moments. Happy and sad. It must have been a middle-of-the-night thing though, because this morning when I woke up I wasn't upset anymore- more so just excited to be right where we are in this exciting 14-month stage. Although I do miss tiny Henry more than I could ever express, I love this Henry even more. And it reminded me to keep taking as many photos as I do, because I can only imagine how I'll feel looking back at these things when he's all grown up.

 

Good Old Snail Mail

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When I was 14 my Dad's job was transferred to Arizona, and my family and I found ourselves being uprooted from our small town in New Jersey to a suburb of Phoenix. Even at that often-tumultuous age I didn't mind moving too much- I was extremely outgoing and I actually looked forward to meeting new people. I did, however, miss my childhood pals terribly. I had been born and raised in the same place, the same home, and had deep roots where I grew up. Luckily though it was the 90s, and although email was beginning to take off, my friends and I still preferred good old snail mail to keep in touch. For the first few years of my Arizona life my girlfriends and I mailed hundreds of letters back and forth. I still have most of them in a huge box. Sometimes when I'm at my parents' I get that box out and sift through them. If you were to join me you'd see pages upon pages of carefully crafted 14-year old penmanship, i's dotted with hearts, tons of "LYLAS" and "SWAK," and stickers. Lots of stickers.

I can still remember waiting for the mail to come every single day, and when I saw brightly colored, probably Lisa Frank stationary sticking out through the pile my Mom would bring inside, my heart would jump in my chest.

Now a days though, mail is mainly full of bills, junk, or strange catalogs for ill-fitting women's clothing I'll never buy. On some fabulous days we receive packages, and on even more special days there will be a card or a letter from someone I love.

I'm lucky enough to know quite a few ladies who pride themselves on using the postal service. They are pen pal extraordinaires and work at keeping the art of letter-writing alive. I am not so good at it, but every so often I'll send a letter off to a friend and I get so excited thinking about how excited they'll probably get, getting real mail.

I thought it would be fun to encourage all of you to go get some pretty stationary, your favorite pen, and write a few letters to people you care about. I guarantee you that a handwritten letter will probably make your Grandma's day, as I'm sure in her lifetime she's seen the sad decline of letters coming to her mailbox. Mail something off to a faraway friend just to say hello or send a letter to an old teacher letting them know how much they impacted you. Real, handwritten letters mean so much more than an email, and I am willing to bet that your recipient's day will be made.

So, let's all promise to write three handwritten letters this upcoming week! In the comments below, tell me who you are going to write your three letters to...and if you comment and commit, you must follow through! ;) Are you in?