Wakey, Wakey!

Brrrringggg . . . the gradually increasing hum of my cell phone alarm alerted me to the time. Gah, kinda early but - shortly - very worth it.

Knock, knock, knock. (He has a key but he only uses it if I'm not home and he's going by for some reason, instead choosing to make sure I never feel he's overstepping, though I've told him it's absolutely fine - it's kinda sweet. . .)

Today, an early flight for him and my first "love bite" of the day was a hand-delivered latte (he even remembered my preference of Sweet n Low vs all the other options, nice!), a few minutes to chat and sweet good-bye kisses. Not a bad start - no, a wonderful start - to a rainy Monday.

Looking forward to coffee and more when he gets back!

Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal

Latte Love!

Bacon Love

I love bacon. I love the boy. Sometimes, these are related thoughts. Today, however, was just kind of a breakfast disaster from the get-go. We were fine - and we met at our regular breakfast/brunch spot - but as he said, "It's like all the employees have cotton in their ears, or are high!"

We were both a little out of sorts this morning - both tired, both worried about various things, "severally and together" as he is fond of saying - and it was all just kind of a cluster, other than the company. He got his favorite biscuit product (overcooked but still, "good enough not to complain" as he described it) and I asked for what should have been a very simple order: two eggs, scrambled, with toast instead of an English Muffin and grits instead of potatoes, plus bacon. What I first got was the dish with the EM and ridiculously overcooked bacon. Like potato-chip crunchy. When a server finally came by to see how things were, I asked if I could have the (white) toast I'd requested, and mentioned that the bacon (note- it was also one and a half pieces not the usual 2-3 serving) was too crunchy. A few minutes later, I got a plate of (wheat) toast then another few minutes later I got a new plate of bacon: "this is even more crunchy and crispy for you, since the first wasn't enough." Paging Homer Simpson . . ."doh!"

The boy and I just looked at each other and shrugged. He tried a bite of my extra-crunchy bacon, and ate most of his sandwich. I picked at my eggs. We talked. Sometimes, food is a disappointment - or just basic nourishment, not a revelation - and this morning was definitely that, except for the one thing that makes any meal ok: the company.

Looking forward to a better meal with my favorite boy, later.

PS- Next time, they better not overcook my bacon . . . just sayin' . . .
Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal

Mama Mia . . .

My mother and I do not have the . . . simplest of relationships. We love each other (that much is pretty clear, to any and all who see us), but, oh boy - our relationship is rife with strife (sometimes a rhyme helps, right?).

But today . . . is such a perfect-storm-example of our relationship. I sent her a text early saying I'd be out having coffee with a girlfriend, then lunch with the boy . . . I came home in between to find no Doggus - I panicked, til I found the leash missing and thought "doh! the boy's en route from his trip so it could only be mom who absconded with Luke..." - long story short: she never checked her texts this morning (should people over 60 text? This is a legitimate question . . . ) and she thought she'd "help" by taking the dog out . . . my mommy panic mode kicked in - then I tried to take one of my antibiotics while we were talking (I know, I know, I'd only had coffee and should take them with food, but it was getting close to lunch so I tried to fudge . . .) and when I immediately threw up  - well, everywhere from the floor to the shower curtain to close to the toilet - guess who helped me?

My mama.

The only one I have. So, fraught-with-difficulty your relationship may be with your mother, or not - I can say this: today, more than just about one or two other days, when my mama was there to let me puke in "privacy," ask me if I needed a cold wash-cloth, talk to me about how I might be able to keep my meds down (could I crush the tablets and put them in yogurt? Ultimately, no, but we tried . . . ) or just to hug me (not to mention clean things up - but she likes to do that . . . ) - I have one thing to say . . . . I am a lucky girl, and if you have a mama, tell her you think so, too. Whether you're sick or not, need her right now or not - you'll be glad you did.

Sometimes food doesn't stay down - but real love does.

Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal

One of my favorite pictures of us.

Cooking For One

I don't know why it's felt different this time - maybe because I didn't fill my calendar with lunch and dinner dates and such?? - but since the boy's been gone, well, it's been odd and pleasurable to fend for myself.

By this I should say - clarify - he takes me out to one or more meals most days of the week, but when he travels, well, this girl is left to her own devices. Which are not inconsequential - whether cooking at home or finding other dining companions! I can handle it.

The past few days have been interesting, though, because I tried a couple of experiments, different than my usual pattern(s) when he and I aren't dining together: I turned down lunch or dinner invites post-Wed; everything had to be a "leftover" (ie, the tacos I had yesterday for National Taco Day that were leftover from Wed night Jalisco take out) or concocted from ingredients in my fridge or freezer . . . how did I do??

Well, I missed my best boy a lot - and seeing pics of his eats at schmancy places while traveling did not help - but . . . 

Thursday, I only ate leftovers: hey, two soft tacos and some Jalisco chicken soup is plenty for this girl in a whole day! Today, a thawed out bagel (half- I burned the other . . . ) with tomato and Meunster (gotta love YDFM for good bread products, just sayin' . . .) for breakfast/brunch, a handful of healthy nuts (almonds and whatever else you're supposed to eat, for linner - about 3pm) and some sauteed mushrooms and stir-fry beef for dinner. WOW! Two days of non/already paid for meals . . . it makes me think. I could do this more often - don't get me wrong, I can't wait for the boy to be back and us to go out more, but it was good to . . . use the stuff in my fridge.

I enjoy cooking. I enjoy eating at home. I enjoy dining out. I mostly enjoy food and drink with good company, no matter the locale (Lucas is great but not as responsive as the boy or a friend, so to speak . . .) . . . I'm looking forward to the boy being back in town, but also to finding more of my own balance of eating in vs. out . . . stay tuned!

Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal

No, I did not cook this. It was one of his fancy dinners while traveling. I think my meat and veggies were probably better . . . but who's to say?? Pictures aren't everything!

"You and Your Pink Sky"

So I'm feeling a little . . . something tonight (the boy is gone and it's National Taco Day, two unrelated topics, but I'm just kinda feeling harrumph-ish . . .) and watching SATC, yet again.

It's not one of my favorite episodes, the one where the girls go to Atlantic City, in Season Five, but there's one particular moment I love. Carrie's sitting on the boardwalk eating her saltwater taffy (I've never been a big fan, but I digress . . . ) and she is mulling over life choices, relationships, whether she really thinks she'll find True Love or if her girlfriends are enough . . . and she overhears this sweet older couple talking.

They've obviously been together a long time and know each other well. He teases her, sweetly, about whether she has her bikini on under her clothes so they can go skinny-dipping (her response: "You know there's nothing skinny about either of us!" in a light-hearted tone) and she asks if he wants to go inside. Their next exchange is my favorite part: Him: "It's almost sunset. Let's wait a minute or so." Her: "You and your pink sky (happy sigh)." It's so sweet, so basic, so intimate.

The boy is away right now and I miss him. When I saw that scene, I immediately thought "Ha! Like how he eats sandwiches with a knife and fork. And has this way of placing his finger against his mouth when contemplating something he wants to say. And sometimes just needs what he calls his "biscuit product" at our favorite breakfast place, and all's right with the world. And . . ." All the little things you get to know and love (or at least fondly tolerate, in some cases) about your special someone.

See, sometimes celluloid love is just like real life love. Taffy, sunsets, biscuits, bikinis, and more. . .

Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal

Carrie in Atlantic City, SATC Season 5

Debate This

Most of you probably watched the debate last night - or like me you watched it on YouTube today - and have your opinion of both candidates and the issues. I will sum up my opinions by saying this: they should have debated chicken vs. beef, Northern vs. Southern Italian cuisine, tuna carpaccio vs. beef . . . something useful.

So, yes, I'm making light of what are very real issues facing all Americans on some level. But, honestly, at the end of the day, did we really get anywhere last night? Were anyone's opinions actually changed? Or did we just listen to over an hour of smug yet flat-footed pontificating from our President, and alternate versions of "we agree on x but not on y" then getting off-topic completely, and enough facts and figures thrown out that who knows which are true (note to self: refer to post-debate fact checkers)? I'd much rather have heard the two gentlemen talk about their favorite meal, whether they eat left-overs (there's a budget idea for you!), even what their personal opinions are of broccoli.

Yes, who is it you want to be our next leader is a very important question. But so is what's for dinner. You can probably surmise where I stand on this election, though you might be surprised at some of my reasoning, but I'd much rather hear your opinions and share mine on the perfect steak or whether you prefer ranch or blue cheese with your wings (and what's your favorite flavor, mine being lemon pepper and yes, I do eat my wings with a knife and fork- don't you?). I'm just saying . . . I don't know that I believe a lot of what comes out of either candidate's mouth right now - I mean, each is trying to win an election not trying to lead right now (though I give far more credence to one than the other) - but I'd still rather hear about what their last meals on earth would be or whether they trust people who don't eat meat. Now that would be interesting banter! Just sayin' . . .

Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal

Now . . . This is something worth discussing! http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/all-we-can-eat/post/the-day-frank-ruta-served-broccoli-to-george-bush/2012/09/06/ae58bd68-f838-11e1-8398-0327ab83ab91_blog.html

Former White House Chef and owner and Executive Chef of  DC's Palena, who once infamously served a broccoli  dish to President George H.W. Bush at the First Lady's suggestion - it was not a hit! But based on this (http://www.washingtonpost.com/gog/restaurants/palena-dining-room,1027102.html) I definitely want to dine at his restaurant next time I'm in DC!

Lilies and Love

So Sunday, my sweet man took me out to brunch. As much as I love the food at TreeHouse, I could only eat a little of their artichoke dip I love so much. My appetite is still hit-or-miss after all my recent medical difficulties. He enjoyed his huevos rancheros muchly, and we had a nice brunch on the whole.

However, he worries and thinks about me when I haven't been able to eat and a bit after he took me home from our repast, he showed back up . . . with dinner for me (my fave mozzarella pasta from Whole Foods - that good kind with the smoked mozz, penne and sundried tomato - tenderloin, and veggies). And Calla Lilies. My absolute favorite flower ever.

So sweet, and much appreciated. Food and flowers - even if I only eat the food bits at a time these days, I always grin like a Cheshire cat at fleurs - they so make this girl happy. And I love him even more for knowing how to make me smile, even when I don't really feel like it.

It's the little things that are so big.

Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal