Quinton is going through his teenage rebellious stage. According to scientific calculations, I have determined that Quinton is approximately 16 years old in human years. He has always been a little rambunctious. And energetic. And boisterous. Pick a word, any … Continue reading
Patrick has a knack for creating a legitimate meal out of random ingredients remaining in the fridge. It’s a great party trick. This probably doesn’t come as much of a surprise though. Neither does the fact that when I peer … Continue reading
This past weekend marked the end of an important season in our house: Missouri Tiger football season. Let me preface this post by saying that this will not be a reflection on the actual performance on the field. I don’t … Continue reading
Patrick and I have joint custody on a deep fryer. The other set of parents to this contraption, I mean fabulous machine, are our good friends Clay and Brittany. This was a Craig’s List purchase prior to our marriage and … Continue reading
I believe that holidays, such as Thanksgiving, are days to rest and recharge. I had grand plans of sleeping in and then drinking my coffee on the couch with Quinton and P while we watched the Thanksgiving Day Macy’s Parade. This was all before I volunteered to make two pies for our Thanksgiving meal at my mom’s house. Continue reading
I went to the battlefield tonight. All for the sake of Thanksgiving pies.
Hoards of impatient procrastinators filled the aisles, frustrated with their self-inflicted misery. Was it safer to grab a basket and have the ability to bob and weave through the masses or arm yourself with a cart to leverage as a shield against incoming traffic?
We opted for the cart. Our strategy: Divide and conquer. Don’t stop moving. If you forget something, leave it. The crew waits for no man. Continue reading
If you have read the Quinton the Bulldog section, you’ve read this comparison before – Quinton reminds me of Lenny Small from Of Mice and Men. A large and powerful body with a sweet heart and absolutely no understanding of … Continue reading
Since he didn’t want to eat PB&J or a delicious Totino’s pizza for his birthday dinner, I gave him four restaurant options. All restaurants he had never been to before. All restaurants I knew he would enjoy. He spent about an hour and a half pursuing the menus online. Weighing the pros and cons. After much deliberation, he decided on Bristol. Continue reading
Carollo’s Italian Grocery and Deli is a wonderfully authentic Italian deli located on the north side of the City Market. Fresh mozzarella and ricotta, octopus tentacles floating alongside “seafood salad” in barrels along the wall, and plenty of gelato to go around. If … Continue reading
I’ve blogged off and on for the past few years. Never consistently, although I wish I had. But looking back, nothing in my life then was very consistent – living in London, living in Columbia, living in Kansas City, full-time student and part-time intern, then full-time employee. Not an excuse, more of an insight for understanding.
But that’s all changed. Three months ago I got something very consistent. A husband. And in the past three months, Patrick and I have started adjusting to life together in our two bedroom, 775-square-foot house a few blocks west of the Plaza. Complete with some pretty interesting neighbors, a tiny one-sink bathroom, and a double oven. Our 60-pound English bulldog, Quinton, has made himself quite at home, too. For the sake of glass half-full, I’ll call it cozy.
It’s very much a time of learning. He’s learning about sorting laundry and my horrible allergy to all things yard work-related. I’m learning about how many Clint Eastwood Western movies exist and how many hair products and brushes are really necessary.
However, we’ve found one thing we can agree on:
He cooks. I clean.
This is the story our adventures. Our meals. Our life. Bon appetit!