Strawberry and Goat Cheese Bruschetta

I think it’s safe to say that spring really has made it to Boston. There were a few weeks there where I thought winter was gone for good, only to wake up the next day to 40 degree weather. I’ve been dressing awkwardly these past few weeks, unsure as to what the weather would do, and have consumed an eclectic menu, not knowing whether a hearty soup or a crisp, spring salad would be more appropriate.

I’m not quite used to this weather, where it isn’t really consistently warm until mid-May. In Arkansas, you’re lucky to get spring weather. There’s usually a mix of snow and nice weather in March, rain in April, and then summer is in full swing by the time May rolls around. Besides for this year, when it was 80 degrees one day, and snowing the next. I think my hometown saw more snow this month than they did all winter long. What’s up, mother nature?

It’s warm in Boston today. Really warm, actually. It’s one of those days where nothing suits you but a dress, and if you have a grill, that’s where you will be cooking your dinner. There’s no place for us to grill at our apartment, unfortunately, so I am forced to get creative. We slept with the AC on for this first time last night, and I woke up craving the flavors of spring. I settled on a bowl of granola for breakfast, but insisted on some spring flavors for my post-workout snack.

This bruschetta could almost be a dessert, really. Add some sugar to the goat cheese and you’ve got yourself a sweet and savory snack. That’s not the route that I took, though, as it wasn’t sweets that I was craving. I coated the berries with some fancy olive oil and vinegar that I picked up this weekend at a local olive oil company. I tried about 20 different flavors, some exotic, some a little less exciting, before finally purchasing a bottle of basil olive oil and strawberry balsamic vinegar. I originally felt a little boring by my choice, but am not regretting it one bit after making this dish.

My snack ended up turning into a meal, as I couldn’t stop at just one piece. The hubs and I ended up devouring most of the batch for a nice spring lunch. I had intended to serve it as an appetizer with tonight’s dinner, but it doesn’t look like that will be happening. Whoops…!

Strawberry and Goat Cheese Bruschetta

2 cups strawberries, washed and diced

4 oz goat cheese

10-12 slices french bread

1.5 tsp strawberry balsamic vinegar (plain will work fine if you can’t find any strawberry)

2.5 tsp basil olive oil (plain olive oil will also be fine here)

.5 tsp balsamic vinegar

2 tbs olive oil

10 fresh basil leaves, chopped

1 sprig of thyme, optional

splash of lime juice

sprinkle of sea salt

Mix strawberries, strawberry balsamic vinegar, balsamic vinegar, and 1.5 teaspoons of basil olive oil together in a medium bowl. Add a splash of lime juice, a sprinkle of sea salt, basil, and a bit of thyme, if that’s your thing. Set aside.

Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a large, heavy skillet over medium heat. Add your bread, toasting lightly for 2-3 minutes per side.

Meanwhile, mix together goat cheese and 1 teaspoon of basil olive oil in a small bowl. Add another sprinkle of sea salt, if you desire.

Once your bread has finished toasting, spread with goat cheese and top with a heaping spoonful of strawberry mixture.

Serve as an appetizer, a side, or if you get too excited, eat it as a meal like me!

A Trip to the Big Apple

I’m a little  late writing this post, but you know what they say, better late than never, right? Several weeks ago I hopped a train to NYC for a much needed weekend away with my mom and sister. I think that this may have been the first time ever, apart from shopping road trips when we were younger, that my mother, sister and I have ever taken a vacation with just us girls. I’ve had trips with my mom, and my sister has had trips with her, but I think that this was the first real mother-daughter vacation that we’ve ever taken.

Somehow. the only picture we managed to take together was on my phone, but it’s better than nothing, I guess!

There were a lot of laughs, and of course, a few spats. You know, typical mother-daughter stuff. We did some shopping, saw a show, and sampled lots of tasty food. My love of cooking came from my mother, so of course, eating was a big part of our itinerary. My choices may have been a little eccentric for them at times, but I think we all walked away with a new favorite dish. My personal favorite was the Duck, Duck, Duck from David Burke Townhouse. Duck egg, duck bacon, and hash cooked in duck fat- YUM!

On my last day there we spent our afternoon experiencing the culinary offerings of Chelsea Market and the Meat Packing district. My mom had booked us a spot on the “Chelsea Market/Meat Packing District Tour,” which I was both excited and a bit skeptical about. I was excited, because who doesn’t love sampling food? But a bit skeptical, because how cheesy does a food tour really sound? I love food, but I really love the excitement of finding places on my own. A food tour kind of steals that joy. But, I must admit, the tour was one of the highlights of my trip. I often found myself wandering, anxious to check things out on my own, but overall, it was extremely informational and I walked away tasting a lot of delicious food. Chelsea Market is filled with some great history, history that I might not have ever known about had I not taken a tour. Could I have figured it all out on my own? The answer is probably yes, but it was a memory shared with my mom and sister that I’ll likely never forget.

Like all good things, the trip eventually came to an end. Our three day journey just wasn’t long enough. It was so refreshing to spend some time with family after several months apart. I am already looking forward to our next mother-daughter adventure.

In other news, here’s a shout out to my husband, Jacob, who completed his master’s degree this week!  Way to go, babe! I am so incredibly proud of you.

Until next time!

Longing For Maine

It’s hard to believe that May is already here. It feels just like last week that Jacob and I were up in Maine celebrating our first wedding anniversary. Better yet, it feels just like last month that we were celebrating our wedding day.

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Despite a really long and bitterly cold winter, this year has been one of the quickest ever. It has been a big year for us. As Jacob pointed out last night, this year alone we experienced a hurricane, a blizzard, and a terrorist attack. That’s a lot of excitement for one year. To add to this list, Jacob graduates in two weeks and we will be off to Europe in two months. Was it really already a year ago that we were in Maine?

It was indeed, and today, I am longing to return. As I mentioned a few weeks ago, I am very much longing for the rocky shores of the East Coast. Now that the weather is finally nice enough, I can’t wait to get outside. We have a camping trip planned for the Cape next weekend, and I am hoping to spend most of my time outdoors this Saturday and Sunday. It’s not quite warm enough for beach weather just yet, but I am okay bundling up and just soaking up the sun. Seriously, what’s better than the sound of roaring waves and a good book?

Two of my favorite New England trips thus far have both been to Maine. Our first, taken last May, was to one of the quaintest little towns you ever did see. To celebrate our first wedding anniversary, the hubs and I headed north for a weekend in Kennebunkport, ME. Even the name of the town was cute!

We saved our pennies and spent our anniversary night at the sweetest little bed and breakfast, The Waldo Emerson Inn. Apparently the hubs and I have turned into B&B’ers since we got married, and we are totally okay with that. B&B’s offer so much more character and we always meet some of the greatest people. Plus, the food is always to die for. I mean, who doesn’t love a four-course breakfast?

As the oldest house in the Kennebunks, the inn has had many famous owners, including Waldo Emerson, great-uncle of famous poet Ralph Waldo Emerson. Built in 1753, the inn still includes many of its original features. The hand-hewn oak timbers still hang in the keeping room, and signatures scratched by diamond rings still show on the windowpanes.

We spent our day wandering around town and walking barefoot along the beach. We enjoyed a sunset dinner overlooking the ocean (and George W. H. Bush’s house!), and ended our night with a bottle of champagne and the top layer of our wedding cake. And the cake was delicious, by the way! We were a little skeptical at first, but had no trouble eating half of it on our own. Even after a year in the freezer (and a night in the mail) it still tasted great.

For the second day of our little getaway, we hit the road and drove up the coast. We saw a handful of lighthouses and sweet little towns. We enjoyed a seaside lunch at a tasty lobster shack, and did a bit of exploring in Portland, ME. We settled down for the night at nearby campground where we fell asleep listening to the waves. Our trip ended exploring a few more towns and enjoying each other’s company along the way. It was the perfect little trip, it was. I bet you can see why I’m longing for more.

We have no special plans for this year’s anniversary. We will be celebrating with loved ones during a visit home. Though Maine sounds a little ore appealing for a romantic getaway, I’m excited for time spent with family and friends. Plus, it’ll be fun to celebrate where our story began!

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What are you longing for?

Semi-Homemade Donuts

I’ve had a hard time writing this week. It’s not that I haven’t had things to write about, it’s that I haven’t been sure how to transition from my last post. My writing is typically pretty light and happy, but because of recent events, things have been a bit heavier here at The Daily Doss.

New updates are still developing, but for the most part, things have pretty much returned to normal around here. Businesses are reopening, and the memorial is continuously growing. And to make things even better, Spring has finally made it to Boston. The trees are budding and flowers are blooming. Farmer’s markets are set to open next week, and our calendar is already full with Spring events. It was a long winter. I am glad that it’s finally over.

Before the bombings took place, I had intentions to share pictures and stories about our day watching the race. Living right on the marathon route, we made a repeat of last year and hosted our second annual Boston Marathon watch party. Friends showed up early on Monday morning eager to cheer on the racers. We sipped on mimosas and snacked on homemade donuts and alcoholic fruit (fruit injected with alcohol- best. idea. ever.). We were all having a great time. Happy and in good spirits, oblivious as to what the day would later bring.

So, in light of the good times that were had on Marathon Monday, I thought I’d transition back into happier topics by sharing a recipe. A recipe that we delighted in the morning of the race. A recipe that only few of us got to try as it was too good to leave any for the others.

I saw a recipe on Pinterest once for homemade donuts made with biscuit dough. Brilliant, I thought. I couldn’t wait to give it a try. Well, to my disappointment, it was one of those false links that led to a dead end. No donut recipe for me. Well, it wasn’t hard to figure out, really. All a donut is is fried dough with a hole in the middle.

I’m typically one who enjoys making things completely from scratch, if I can. Biscuits are no exception. I’ve made homemade biscuits a handful of times. Well, because I wasn’t sure how crazy things would be on the morning of the race, and because Whole Foods sells delicious biscuit dough, I thought I would save myself heaps of time and use this little short cut. No shame. These donuts are just too good for that.

Semi-Homemade Donuts

1 tube or package of ready-to-use biscuit dough

oil

sugar and cinnamon mix

Start off by separating your biscuit dough. Then, using a circle cookie cutter, or some other circular object (I used the lid of a medicine bottle), cut holes in the center of your dough. Set aside.

In a cast iron skillet or other heavy frying pan, add about 1 inch of frying oil. I used shortening as it was all I had on hand, but I am anxious to give these a try using coconut oil.

Heat your oil over medium heat until temperature reaches around 350-365 degrees. Be careful not to overheat your oil. Ideally, using an oil thermometer is best, but you can get by without one (I did). If you don’t know how to tell when your oil is ready without a thermometer, there are several good resources on the web. The wooden spoon technique listed here is a good one.

Once your oil has reached the appropriate temperature, in batches, carefully place your dough in the oil. Cook for about 1-2 minutes, or until golden brown, and then carefully flip, cooking 1-2 minutes more. Be careful not to overcook your dough. These will brown quickly, so don’t let your attention wander.

Once golden brown, with tongs, remove your donuts and place them on a cooling rack placed over paper towels. Once your donuts have cooled slightly, toss them in your cinnamon and sugar mixture, one or two at a time. I used a Ziploc bag for easy cleanup.

Recipe produces eight donuts and eight donut holes. Eat them fresh, or save them for later if you have the willpower. But really, what’s better than a donut fresh from the fryer?

 

We Were on Lockdown

My alarm went off yesterday at 7:15 a.m. Instead of hitting snooze like I usually do, I ran from our bed to the the living room. My phone had exploded with alerts while I slept. While we rested, people were killed, just miles from our home.

I quickly learned what had happened during the late hours of the night. The suspects from the Boston bombing had been found. One was dead, one was on the loose. And we were on lockdown.

I got in touch with my boss, who told me not to come to work. I then went to wake Jacob, explaining to him what was happening. We sipped our tea and watched the news. The search perimeter was just three miles from our home. “How surreal,” was all that I could think.

There was nothing that we could do. I anxiously paced around the apartment trying to get things done. But I couldn’t. Jacob desperately tried working on his thesis. But he couldn’t. All we could do was wait. We were on lockdown.

Things went on like this for hours. I’d work on chores here and there, but always found myself back in front of the TV. I’d stare out the window every now and then, jumping at any little sound. I listened to the helicopter flying around our neighborhood, and waited.

We eventually decided that so much news wasn’t good for us. We had been glued to the TV all day. At around 2:00 p.m. we turned off the news, laid in bed, and fell asleep. We woke up still holding each other, and then updated ourselves on the chaos happening outside our doors. We were still on lockdown.

The day continued much like it had before. We kept waiting for updates, and went on with our unproductive day. I found myself in the kitchen, and Jacob tried his hardest to get some work done.

Then, finally, at around 6:00 p.m., there was news. Something we hadn’t had much of all day, even though we did nothing but watch it. At last, we were no longer on lockdown.

This news was a relief. Although they still hadn’t found the suspect, I felt like a could breath a little easier. I had no plans to go anywhere, but mentally, the term lockdown was a heavy one.

Just as we sat down for dinner, there was a new development. We turned the TV up loudly and watched with the rest of the country. The suspect had been found. Finally, we could breath again. We could sleep peacefully knowing that he was off of the streets.

Boston was loud last night. The streets filled with people cheering and singing. People were passing by our apartment building well into the night, singing “God Bless America,” and “Proud to be an American.” For once, I didn’t mind the noise. After a long and heavy day, Boston deserved to celebrate.

The city felt peaceful this morning. A light rain fell on my ride to the train station, cleansing blood from the streets. If only it could remove the evidence of the evil that occurred this week. People will remember this week’s events for the rest of their lives. Loved ones were lost, and people were severely injured. Both physically and mentally. People will heal, but people won’t forget. I won’t forget, Boston won’t forget. Maybe much of the country won’t forget.

But like I said in my last post, life will go on. It’ll never go on exactly the same, but it’ll go on. People will likely wake up a little happier today than yesterday. Yesterday’s news will be the talk of the town for a while, but will slowly fade out. Before we know it, next year’s race will be here, and people will flock back to Boston to run. Even more will show up to cheer. You better believe that people will be there to cheer. If Boston has proven one thing this week, it is that it is indeed strong. Today, I am happy to call Boston my home. Today, I am happy to be “Boston Strong.”

Boston Marathon Bombing

I don’t write about sad things here often, but every now and then, I will. Not because I enjoy it, but because that’s how the world works sometimes. Most days go by fine. We might have a frustrating day at work, or maybe get stuck in traffic on our way home. Maybe we are sick one day, or have a fight with a loved one. But our day was fine. Then there are days like yesterday.

Yesterday started great, celebrating with friends. It ended hugging those friends just a little bit tighter.

Just so you know, I am fine. Jacob is fine. Our friends are fine. But we are not fine, really. Events like this, the Boston bombing, or more extreme events, like 9/11, never really leave us fine. An event like this stirs something inside of us. It infuriates us. It sickens us. It leaves us longing for peace. But on the other side of things, it unites us. It draws out the good in us. It leaves us a little more loving than before. Events like this never leave us fine. They always affect us in one way or another.

I am happy to report that we were miles away from the bombing sight. Jacob and I were enjoying the race with friends about 5 miles from where the bombings took place. One minute we were cheering on the swarm of racers, the next we were crowded around a bar TV hungry for news. The streets, just minutes before crowded with runners and spectators, were replaced by police cars and ambulances. The euphoria from the race quickly wore off. Suddenly, our phones were exploding with calls and texts.  We searched our phones, brainstorming of anyone we knew who might have been at the finish line. Relieved, we thought of none. One or two of our friends were nearby, but thankfully, not close enough to have been hurt.

I went to bed feeling a little more thankful than I did when I woke up. I snuggled with Jacob just a bit closer, thanking God for my blessings as I fell asleep. I drove to work this morning feeling somber, thinking of those who were hurt by yesterday’s events. People are mourning over loved ones today, while others are still fighting for their lives. For most of us, life will go on as normal. Today is just like any other day. But is it really?

The barriers still left on the street feel a bit eerie. The empty Gatorade cups scattered about serve as a reminder of how chaotic things can suddenly become. Yesterday served as a not-so-gentle reminder of how precious life can be. So today, on this beautiful spring day, I’ll probably smile at a few more people. I’ll likely get less frustrated as I deal with traffic,  and I’ll probably hug Jacob just a little bit longer. I’ll put my to do list aside for a while, or at least not stress over it so much. Today, I’ll count my blessings, acknowledging that all good things come from above.

Zhto H Ellada (Long Live Greece)

After a long week of being sick last week, I simply couldn’t stand to stay indoors any longer come Sunday. All I had done for  a week straight was come home from work and crawl right into bed. The extra rest was beautiful for the first few days, but come Saturday, my body was bored. The idea of spending another day in bed on Sunday made my skin crawl.

The hubs had told me on Friday (last Friday that is- I am several days late finishing this post) about a Greek festival that was to take place on Sunday afternoon. This news was both exciting and frustrating for me. I wanted to attend, but wasn’t sure if I’d be well enough on Sunday to do so. Using it as motivation, I spent Saturday resting, hoping I’d be up for an adventure on Sunday.

If you haven’t guessed by now, Sunday came, and it was to the parade I went. I wasn’t totally better, but I packed my box of tissues and went out anyway. I think that the fresh air did me some good, and it was a wonderful experience getting to celebrate 100 years of independence with the Greeks in our community.

If Greek people are one thing, it’s passionate. Their enthusiasm was contagious. “Zhto H Ellada” they’d yell. “Zhto H Ellada they’d yell back.  “Long live Greece!” This  year marks their 100th year of liberation from the Ottoman Empire. People waved their flags proudly. Truly having something to celebrate.

We ended our day with a stroll down one of my favorite streets, a couple of Swiss truffles (more on this soon), and of course, a Greek meal to commemorate the day. I spent the rest of the evening in bed,  still sick, but  feeling liberated by the enthusiasm from the day.

What did you do last weekend?

Longing For Gloucester

As I sit here with my teacup in hand and a box of tissues in reach, I can’t help but long for the rocky beaches of  Cape Ann. Gloucester, a rugged old fishing town (America’s oldest in fact), filled with burly old men just in from sea, some of the best fish stew that New England has to offer, and lobster for sale right on the docks, has become one of my favorite destinations outside of Boston. The hubs and I discovered Gloucester just a few days after we rolled into town. We had scored a Groupon for a whale watching tour that departed from Gloucester, and have been in love with the area ever since.

Though there are a few sandy beaches in the area, we prefer the rugged, rocky beaches of Halibut State Park. The giant rock slabs offer the perfect spot to spread out a blanket and listen to the waves roar. Only an hour away, there were many days this winter that I was tempted to bundle up and head North. Although, with an average daily temperature of about 30 degrees, I decided against it. North Atlantic winds can be brutal in the winter time.

But now- now that winter is FINALLY ending- now that the snow is FINALLY gone- it’s ALMOST time to head to one of my favorite spots on the East Coast. But for now, I can only long for Gloucester. For now, it’s off to bed I go. This girl has a cold to overcome…

What are you longing for today?

Easter Sunday

There are few things that make me happier than hosting people in my home. It’s a lot of work, and we truthfully don’t have much space for large get-togethers, but there’s nothing like the warmth of friends and the sound of their laughter to fill my home. Due to renovations, Easter 2012 was the first official get-together we were able to host in our apartment. We took in those strays who weren’t heading home for the holiday and celebrated among precious friends. Having no reason not to do the same again this year, we welcomed friends, old and new, into our home to celebrate the miracle of our risen King.

As much as I longed to host a proper sit down meal, where I could decorate our table somewhat like this and our guests could sit on something other than camp chairs, our tiny space (and small budget) just wouldn’t allow it. At least I had pretty eggs, right? Instead of coming up with an elaborate meal like I longed to do, we exposed our southern routes with a potluck supper. Being a traditionalist, ham had to make an appearance on the menu, as well as Polish sausage and Italian cream cake. Though the sausage and cake may not be traditional for many, they are two things things that I can’t remember not ever having for Easter dinner (besides last year, which was totally my fault, and such a mistake). The rest of the spread was quite delicious, and rather eclectic. I think this is the first time ever that my Easter meal, or any meal for that matter, consisted of ham, polish sausage, sauerkraut, homemade spaghetti and Italian sausage, mashed potatoes, asparagus, green beans, and bacon. I think it really says something truly wonderful about our group of friends. The dessert table was no disappointment either. Three days later, and I am still munching on sweet treats.

We rounded off the night with tasty beverages, coconut rum mangoes (they tasted as delicious as they sound), and a riveting game of celebrity. As work would beckon me early the next morning, I slipped into my bedroom early (12:00 a.m. early!) while the last of the stragglers enjoyed a game of Mad Gab. I sipped my tea slowly, listening to their laughter echo from the living room. I rested peacefully that night knowing how richly we’ve been blessed by these people that we call friends.

What did you do this Easter?

Happy Easter

Hallelujah, He is risen! Happy Easter!