Meet Me In St. Louis - Part Two

On our first proper day in St. Louis, the weather turned out to be the thorn in our side for the day. Most of the sightseeing I had planned for our trip involved being outdoors, and somehow I had failed to take into account St. Louis' miserably hot and humid weather. I suppose I thought just because it would technically be September that St. Louis would be enjoying fall temperatures, but I was woefully mistaken. Instead, it was over 100 degrees, and the afternoon and evening were punctuated by intense storms. Still, we managed to have a good, albeit low-key day in our new environs.

We started off our day with a light breakfast at Kaldi's, a local coffee chain that focuses on sustainably farmed, organic, free-trade products. While that is eco-friendly and socially responsible and all, the main reason why I wanted to take Justin there was their Aztec hot chocolate. You see, Wash U featured Kaldi's products in all their on-campus cafes, and whereas I don't drink coffee, those cinnamon-spiked, gently spicy hot chocolates were my salvation in college. I used to stop and pick one up with a scone or croissant and consume the two very slowly throughout the course of a boring lecture in an effort to keep awake. Though my sinus infection kept me tasting my morning dose of nostalgia properly, I was really excited to share something I once loved so greatly with the man who I love now, and I think he enjoyed it too.

Although we wanted to use this trip to focus on us instead of spending all our time with family like we did the last time we got out of town, I did get in touch with my Aunt Faye to schedule a little family get-together. She graciously invited us over to her lovely suburban home for a homemade lunch. She prepared a few of my Nana's specialties, namely lasagna and peach pie (my grandmother was famous for her pies, and I'd expressed to Faye my summer flirtation with pie-making in hopes of comparing notes with the inheritor of my nana's recipes). Sadly, I couldn't taste a thing, but Justin enjoyed the food, and I enjoyed the food-centric family stories.

Can you tell that Faye's kids helped with the decorating?

It was nice to spend time with my family, even though their cats were giving my already infected sinuses a run for their money. My dad's cousin Linda also came over with her two daughters, Jill and Alicia, the latter of which brought along her ridiculously adorable new baby, Bobby. Cuddly babies make any family gathering immediately more entertaining, though I was sad I couldn't touch or interact with him more for fear of transmitting my germs.

Faye and her partner Paula also offered to let Justin and I borrow their pool and beautifully landscaped backyard for a swim while they took their kids to a St. Louis Cardinals game. Though we'd originally planned to spend our afternoon at the zoo, we were intimidated by the insane weather, so we decided to take them up on their offer and use the water to beat the heat. We had a refreshing little dip, but it was cut all too short by the onset of a rainstorm, so we packed up our gear and moved on.

In an effort to kill time before dinner, I took Justin on a drive around Forest Park, one of the largest urban parks in the United States, and home to numerous cultural institutions such as the St. Louis Art Museum, Missouri History Museum, St. Louis Science Center, the St. Louis Zoo, the Muny (an outdoor musical theater venue), a golf course, and several event venues. It was home to the 1904 World's Fair, as well as the 1904 Summer Olympic Games, and it is by far, the most scenic spot in the city in my opinion. We drove around, taking in ponds, waterfalls, and a large quantity of wedding parties using the park for a photographic background, until I finally located the series of waterfalls and picturesque stone bridge that I remembered from my college days. That spot was one of our favorites for picnics, and we had Scott's birthday party there shortly before we graduated in 2007. It holds a lot of happy memories for me, and I was glad I was able to locate it after all this time.

Justin and I at my favorite spot in Forest Park.

For dinner, I had yet another old favorite I wanted to share with Justin -- Dewey's Pizza. It took me three years to find decent pizza in St. Louis as a college student, and their perfectly constructed pies are just about the thing I miss about St. Louis culinarily speaking.  Though it is not ordinarily his favorite, I convinced Justin to try their Hawaiian pizza, and I made a believer out of him. Something about their mildly spicy sauce works perfectly with the sweetness of the pineapple and makes for a memorable pie. I'd been looking forward to Dewey's from the moment we made the reservations to come to town, and I was a little bit crushed that I could barely taste it at all. At least Justin enjoyed it though, and I was glad to be able to share something so important to me with him.

A half-Hawaiian, half-Canadian bacon and green olive pizza from Dewey's.

Even though we didn't squeeze in everything that I had planned, we still had a pleasant day in St. Louis, replete with good food and good company, and it was good to take things a bit easier than my usual vacation pace, given my poor health. I think the day was just what the doctor ordered.

Meet Me In St. Louis - Part One

They say life is what happens when you make other plans, and the older I get, the more I believe it.

For the holiday weekend, I had spent a good amount of time planning a weekend getaway for Justin and myself, the first of ours that wouldn't be given over to family gatherings and obligations. I was inspired by a Groupon I'd spotted for a the Moonrise Hotel, a new boutique hotel in St. Louis that was under construction while I was in college, and about which I had remained curious. The online deal would put it in the realm of affordability, so I floated the idea with Justin, who was amenable because he'd somehow never managed to travel to St. Louis, despite traveling extensively with his family and on his own in the past. In the first complication of many to face this journey, the weekend-rate Groupons sold out before we could secure them, so we were only able to get one for a Sunday night. For the rest of our journey we decided to stay at the Clayton Sheraton, which would be cheaper than staying at the Moonrise for the other two nights, sans-Groupon. At least this way we'd get to check out the new, nicer hotel for at least one night, and still get in a decently long vacation.

The next challenge to face us arose on Tuesday, when it became abundantly clear that the cold I feared was coming on for most of last week that had failed to materialize was going to make itself known after all. I ended up taking Wednesday off of work in order to stay home and get rest, hoping that if I took excellent care of myself all week that I'd be in the clear by the time our departure rolled around today. However, Thursday saw very little improvement, and by this morning, I was even more miserable. Forgoing our original plan to be on the road to St. Louis by 9:00 a.m., I seized the earliest available appointment at my doctor's office at 11:15, where I was diagnosed with a sinus infection and bronchitis, and duly given a course of antibiotics. We ended up leaving three and half hours later than planned, but I think it was better than suffering through the weekend un-medicated.

By the time we finally got into town, it was too late to do any of the sightseeing that I had on the agenda for the afternoon, and as it turned out, Justin was feeling under the weather as well, though his was more of an adverse reaction to the road food we'd consumed on the way down. We both ended up feeling so poorly that we couldn't even make it out of the hotel to have dinner; our first night of vacation was officially a bust. Still, at least we were together, and things could really only get better from there...

Gonna Eat A Lot Of Peaches...

I may not be moving to the country, but it's hard to deny that I am eating a lot of peaches this summer nonetheless. With a huge chunk of my freezer dedicated to the frozen fruit, I decided to tap some of my resources to create a frozen dessert that I had recently spotted on one of my favorite food blogs, the Galley Gourmet. Though I was initially attracted to her blog for her cakes, most of her recipes fall into the realm of things that sound good in theory, but would be too labor-intensive for me to seriously consider making. When I saw her recipe for a buttermilk peach sherbet that purportedly captured the flavors of peach pie in frozen form, however, I was intrigued. Not only was it a quick recipe to throw together, I was fresh off of actually baking a peach pie and figured this sherbet would be a good pinch-hitter for the more involved recipe if it panned out.

Without a doubt, this recipe was a cinch to make. With a stockpile of peaches peeled, sliced, and ready to go in the freezer, all I had to do was dump the ingredients in a blender and puree until smooth. From there, they went into the ice cream maker, since the frozen peaches already had the mixture quite frosty, then into a Tupperware container to freeze until firm. It was quite possibly the easiest peach creation I've attempted all summer.

However, I was slightly disappointed in the finished product. Though I have a seriously fierce addiction to the tart white peach frozen yogurt at Red Mango, the combination of tangy buttermilk and peaches in this sherbet was too much for me. Also, I think it could have used more cinnamon (perhaps a 1/4 teaspoon instead of an 1/8?), but then again, I think basically everything in the dessert would would benefit from a heavier hand with the cinnamon. Plus, I was afflicted in my sherbet effort by the same problem I had with my ill-fated apple sorbet, namely crumbliness.I'm not sure why I keep having this problem -- this sherbet had peach Schnapps in it to keep it from freezing too hard, just like my always-perfect peach sorbet -- so I think I'll stick to my tried-and-true frozen dessert recipes for a while, at least.

Even Dad, perhaps the greatest aficionado of peach desserts in my life, proclaimed it, "not my best work," so I doubt I'll be attempting this recipe again. If you like tangy frozen desserts, however, feel free to give it a try. Just remember to season to taste...

Peach Buttermilk Sherbet

adapted from The Galley Gourmet

2 lb. fresh peaches, peeled, pitted, and chopped

2 c. buttermilk

1/2 c. brown sugar

1/2 c. white sugar

1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

pinch of nutmeg

pinch of salt

2-3 tablespoons peach Schnapps

Place all the ingredients in a blender and puree until smooth. If peaches are frozen, you may churn right away. If peaches are room temperature, pour the puree into a bowl and refrigerate overnight until well-chilled. Churn in the bowl of a 2-quart ice cream maker, as per manufacturer's instructions. Transfer to a airtight storage container and freeze until solid.

It's All Greek To Me...

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I have an amazing and diverse group of friends who are out there pursuing their dreams in fascinating and exciting ways. Today, I was able to celebrate an accomplishment of one such friend, the aspiring playwright Jessica, with whom I went to high school, when I took Justin to see a production of one of her plays, The Trojan War: Or How One Bad Apple Spoiled The Whole World. Having one's play produced is no small feat, one that many would-be authors never attain. It implies years of persistence and belief in her own talent, and for that, I must congratulate her. 

The Trojan War presents a Sartre-esque scenario in which the major players in the Trojan War -- Paris, Helen, Aphrodite, and Eris, the goddess of conflict and discord -- have been trapped in a sort of cosmic purgatory for three thousand years as they cast blame upon each other for causing the conflict in question. They become aware of the audience, dismantling the fourth wall almost immediately, and decide to present a detailed accounting of the events leading up to and during the Trojan War so that the audience can make their own judgments about who was really at fault. As they delve deeper and deeper into the story, it becomes clear that no one person or celestial being is solely responsible, and that any and all of them had the potential to stop the chain of events that caused so many innocent people their lives and none of them did. What results is an anti-war statement that admonishes the audience to think carefully about the potential implications of our own actions.

The play was staged by the Inconceivable Theater Company, a local troupe renting the studio space at the Apollo Theater, whose main stage is home to the perennially popular (though I've still not seen it) Million Dollar Quartet. Although the space was small, I thought their staging was effective, and they actually had relatively good fortune with regard to the timing of the El passing by. When I saw the theater was basically underneath the tracks, I wondered how well sound-insulated it was, and it quickly became apparent that it wasn't at all.  However, the El seemed to pass by mostly at dramatically appropriate moments, when its sound underscored the action of the story. Justin noted that for him, it channeled the sound of Zeus throwing lightning bolts from Mount Olympus.

Jessica's words were brought to life by a largely talented group of actors. At times, I thought they hammed things up a bit too much, and that the writing would have been more effective if they had let it stand on its own to a greater degree. Then again, I thought Jessica's attempts to make the Trojan War more relevant to a contemporary audience by peppering the story with a series of modern-day references and jokes was somewhat forced; I think the historical material would have been more cohesive if allowed to stand on its own. Then again, I have more of a historical background and interest in history than most people...

I'm not sure The Trojan War will become a classic of American theater, but I am proud of Jessica, and I can't even imagine how exciting it must be for her to see her work fully-realized and performed live on stage. I'm eager to see where she draws inspiration from for her next work, and I wish her future success in her burgeoning career as a playwright.

The Help...

In case you hadn't noticed, I've been lying low lately. I made a vow to stop baking and making frozen desserts until I cleared out some of the backlog in my freezer. You see, those root beer float ice pops and the Aztec "hot" chocolate ice cream from last month are still maintaining a strong presence in my freezer, and I figure it's time for me to eat my way though some of my inventory before I go adding to it. I've been hanging out with friends a few times a week, but nothing really blog-worthy.

Today, however, I journeyed up to the suburbs to do movie and lunch with Lauren. Sadly, the number of these get-togethers has declined precipitously since Lauren moved to Evanston; back when she lived 15 minutes away we used to catch the cheapest, earliest movie of the day and have breakfast beforehand a few times a month. Now we're lucky to see each other every few months, but we're still making the effort. 

At Lauren's suggestion, we saw The Help, based on the popular novel of the same name. To me, it seemed like an obvious feel-good bid for Oscar nominations, but there weren't a lot of promising options at the theater, so I decided to go and try to keep an open mind. 

As a college student, I spent a significant amount of time studying social movements of the 1960s, and the Civil Rights Movement was often given particular emphasis at Wash U because it happens to be the repository for the archival footage that went into the making of the seminal documentary series, Eyes on the Prize. With so much primary source material on hand, my professors were eager to make the best use of it possible. Hence, I was probably better informed about the Civil Rights Movement than the average viewer of The Help, and I couldn't help but be distracted by its lack of realism. Difficult as the maids' lives are as depicted on film, I think the movie underestimates the repercussions that their civil rights activities would have had on their employment and their lives in general. 

Furthermore, while the Civil Rights Movement was assisted by a number of well-meaning whites, I felt like the story minimized the agency of the African-American community in building their own movement. Instead, Skeeter (played with characteristically quirky aplomb by Emma Stone) comes across a bit overly heroic and unselfish. I think the audience shouldn't lose sight of the fact that her original aim in telling the story of the South's black maids is to tap an undiscovered literary resource to create a literary career for herself, not necessarily because she is interested in the burgeoning Civil Rights Movement. Indeed, her curiosity about Jim Crow and institutionalized racism comes later. 

Still, the movie does have some extremely entertaining moments, from a pie with a disgusting secret ingredient to a prank that involves the delivery of an entire yard-full of toilets to the local bully. I tend to like my films on the depressing side, but The Help offered its share of delightful comedic moments instead. It was also rife with fantastic female performances, my favorite of which came from the relentlessly sassy maid, Minny Jackson, played by Octavia Spencer. Of all the actresses who made solid contributions to the film, I'd like to see her rewarded come Oscar season.

I do think The Help was on-balance, entertaining and a pleasant way to spend an afternoon with a friend. I take issue with it from a historical perspective, but that probably doesn't matter to the average movie-goer, so I say, go ahead and check it out if you're in the market for female-friendly theater fare this summer.

Tales From The City - Part Five...

There are truly a limitless number of oddities to encounter in the city. Take this little item that I found on the sidewalk today, in the niche formed by an average, unimportant building on Van Buren Street:


It appears to be a fake deputy badge, attached to a mouse trap. If two other passersby hadn't spotted it first and stopped to snap cell phone pictures, I would have walked right by it. Who left it there? Perhaps some kind of street artist? Why not leave something bigger, that would make more of an impact? Also, I'm no expert in mousetraps having never needed to use one, but isn't it loaded? Wouldn't it really hurt if someone stepped on it?

Is it a statement that the police and people in positions of law enforcement are rats? Are they trying to catch magpies by putting something shiny in the trap? The piece is woefully lacking in context. We'll probably never know what the intention is behind it, or what it means. Such is the nature of these absurd little blips on the radar of urban life, but at least they keep things interesting...

Crazy, Stupid Love...

I was a bad hostess this weekend: I had house guests once again, but this time I did not bake for them. I'm trying to avoid adding any more desserts to the house until I've finished last week's Texas cake, and some of the stockpile of homemade ice cream and ice pops in my freezer. I did, however, spend some time with my cousins Danielle and Chris while they were in town for today's Cubs game against the St. Louis Cardinals, and tonight we went to see a grown-up movie, a treat for them at the height of their child-rearing years. We settled upon Crazy, Stupid Love, mostly because I mentioned I was planning on seeing it, but it also boasted enough Steve Carell humor to appeal to Chris and enough of Ryan Gosling's abs to bring Danielle and I through the theater doors.

As far as romantic comedies go, Crazy, Stupid Love was a cut above. Steve Carell masterfully blends buffoonery and gravitas to lend emotional credibility to a comedic role. I can't' think of a movie in which I've seen Julianne Moore where she wasn't fantastic, and while I don't quite see why so many men seem to think Emma Stone is the hottest ever, the quirky comedic sensibility she revealed in the fantastic Easy A translated to her role here as well. Ryan Gosling, known to most women for his swoon-worthy turn in the chick-flick classic, The Notebook, broke with his usual good-guy image to play a cynical douche, but his liberally-utilized physique made up for his character's lack of likability. As Stone's character pointed out, it really was like he was Photoshopped.

A top-notch cast only gets a movie so far though, and the writing for Crazy, Stupid Love failed to disappoint as well. Though the romantic comedy genre is often tired and cliched, this film managed to come up with a creative central plot twist and some clever grand romantic gestures. I also appreciated that the movie managed to create some riotously funny moments without relying on gross-out humor, which seems to be the Hollywood norm these days. Remember Bridesmaids?

Even if I was a third wheel on this particular evening, I think Crazy, Stupid Love would make a great date movie, and I'm already looking forward to re-watching it again and again when it makes its television premiere. Check it out if you're looking for a crowd-pleasing romantic comedy this summer.