saffron: a how to

{the snow has fallen now, for many hours. a blizzard friday conjures up pint-sized adventures like braving the storm to walk the block to the nearest cafe as an antidote to cabin fever. on the way over today, i saw my landlord jogging. outside. amidst the snow. she's fabulous- an older, established woman dedicated to staying healthy rain, shine or blizzard. this was unbelievable at first; the abominable snowman would have been a better hypothesis. when i realized it was her, i exclaimed loudly, 'you are a wild woman, i love you!' and immediately i felt very awkward for,  why on such a quiet day, must such a weird thing be said? i hate when i say awkward things, but it keeps happening.... but anyway, the saffron. all of this snow brings on the craving for a movie with enchiladas. with the enchiladas must come spanish rice. in the pantry at the moment, only white as a bone, japanese rice exists- it's my favorite texture. but, i LOVE the yellow color of spanish rice on my plate- it's very festive. is the best of both worlds possible? just then, i remembered a sample of whole, threaded saffron that i received as a free sample with an order of almond flour (it's a great alternative to flour for those who like baked goods that are delicious and easy and i'm picky about those things.) pulling out the packet from the abyss of the spice drawer, i was puzzled. how did these hairy looking, red, things produce beautiful, sunny  rice? the experiment ensued...}

so, what is saffron, really?

saffron is most often used to naturally tint food a golden color, but it is actually spicy as well. it is popular in Spanish, French and Middle Eastern cultures. records indicate that in Greece it was used as a potent therapeutic drug and herbal remedy. those form the upper class bathed in it and added it to lotions and beauty tonics. it comes from the saffron crocus flower. there are three strands in the center of the flower, that when dried, become the spice strands. (i did think for a split second, i'm going to eat a flower stigma, yum?) 75,000 flowers are needed to make 1 lb. of saffron, hence why the 'designer' price tag.
 

from red strand to yellow rice, a how to:

1. crush the stems
i got my mini mortar and pestle at World Market (haven) for five buckaroo's. a m&p isn't imperative though, since the stems are very fragile and the back a a spoon would probably work just fine.

2) dissolve saffron, dissolve.
     when the saffron is a fine powder, add warm water and let it dissolve for 10 minutes or so.

3)  add & cook
      rice cookers are wonderous, they make fluffy rice every time and it's e a s y. just follow the directions on the bag, adding the 'saffron water' to the amount of water directed. let the saffron water mingle with the rice while cooking.

4.) about 20 minutes later.....
      golden rice ready to embellish any plate!

      ingredients used: rice, water, saffron (it's completely natural and healthy, too)

Recipe ideas for cooking with saffron

Saffron is used in many different cuisines all over the world. In India it is used with rice and some sweets, whilst in France and Spain it is popular in fish-based dishes. Below are a number of recipe ideas for the use of saffron in cooking.

• Use saffron in the French "bouillabaisse", a type of fish stew.
• It is one of the main ingredients of the Spanish paella.
• In Italian cooking it is used in "risotto a la Milanese".
• Use saffron to flavour and colour rice.
• Use in Indian biriyani rice dishes.
• Add to coffee with cardamom for a Middle Eastern hot drink.
• Saffron is a good spice to use with fish, such as cod or halibut, giving it excellent colour and flavour.
• Use for a Scandinavian-style saffron sweet cake.
• Use to flavour ice cream, as they do in India.
• Use in all types of curries.
• Use to make Cornish saffron buns.
• Add to sauces to give it colour and a spicy flavour.
• Add saffron to crab or fishcake mixtures.
• Add to mayonnaise or garlic mayonnaise to give it a different colour.
• Add to soups for a bright colour.
• Saffron is also often partnered with chicken.

happy saffron eating!

make this! homemade citrus salt scrub

More time+Less $= Creativity

 

 (It's funny what happens when you have to watch your fund$. Your mind gets all creative and stuff. Meaning, you just want to make stuff so you don't have to buy it.)

After trying the sugar scrub previously, I went for the 100% pure and simple citrus salt scrub this time around. I LOVE it. It's super hydrating, bright and fresh with the orange and lemon pureed right in. Slap a ribbon around it's neck and VOILA! a gift.

To get the recipe from the Petite Elephant blog, click HERE and let me know if you try any of the DIY gifts to give or for yourself!

Life in LoDo: Fabric Bliss

The days are here. If I dream of having Christmas placemats- I can sew some! If it's a baby blanket I want to make and give- I can sew one! When I feel like some new curtains- sew them, I can! Thanks to my 1970's Signature Deluxe Automatic sewing machine. Gifted to me from AMC's Grandma Kathy. She is gorgeous. In fact, with her periwinkle and cream metal she reminds me of a Vespa scooter.

photo courtesy of: http://tain0s.deviantart.com/art/The-Blue-Vespa-94281616

Barbara

One evening, AMC came home from Colorado Springs with handed down gifts to me from his Grandma and Dad. In the trunk there was a sewing machine case and a vacuum cleaner. Every housewife's dream! (are they trying to tell me something?) Freaking ecstatic! The vacuum works like a dream and from what I could tell, so did the sewing machine (her name is Barbara, Barb for short.)Yesterday, I got out some swanky flannel fabric and got ready to sew away. I tinkered with things, attempting to wind a bobbin and realized, I needed a little help, a little confidence, a little how-to. Then I remembered seeing a place called Fabric Bliss in the art district just a stone's throw from our loft. I gave the store a ring, gave her a rundown; gorgeous old machine, think it works fine just need a little info on what these dials mean and how to thread the thread, and so forth. The lady on the phone said bring her on in and she'd give her a lookover.

Score!

One of the best parts of Barbara is that she's composed of all metal. There is not one speck of plastic on her, that I can see. You know what I'm going to say, "they just don't make things like this anymore!" All that metal makes her durable and HEAVY. Getting her down the elevator and into the trunk made me feel like I was working for something.

Arriving to Fabric Bliss, I realized that the lady on the phone was the owner, Aurora Sisneros. She is so cool. Just one look around her store and you know it's true. She's cool AND she is a true crafter. She knows her stuff AND how to teach too. Aurora fell right in love with Barbara when I heaved her onto her front desk counter and told me what every dial does, how to thread a bobbin and why we even have a bobbin in the first place. Right there, on the spot, she gave me a very well articulated class on sewing machine 101. With confidence that I was about to go home and sew, I mosied around her store for a few minutes, in awe that a place like this exists. Bolts and bolts of modern fabric (no run of the mill stuff only here!) a wall of gorgeous yarn for knitting and, in the back of the store is a classroom with machines to work on. They teach everything from how to use a sewing machine for the first time, to modern quilting. Or, you can rent a machine by the hour and work on your own project.

I don't feel so alone in the world anymore. There are young crafters out there, a whole bunch of them. And, thanks to Fabric Bliss, (website HERE) "a modern fabric store, sewing studio, and knit lounge located in the heart of the Santa Fe Arts District in Denver, Colorado" we have a place to hang! Thanks Aurora!

The Art of Bathing

The Art of Bathing I learned in Japan. At the grocery store, I'd stand in the bodywash/shampoo/conditioner aisle for a good long bit, opening every single container to smell them. They were so different than any other that I'd, well, smelled. It was as if they took raspberries and oranges and squeezed  the fruit juice directly into the bottle. And it lathered so well. Ah. what I wouldn't do for a bath in my tub there, with my pink, striped shower curtain.

The Art of Bathing in Japan is a big part of culture there, from what I experienced.
On weekends, with family and friends, people often visit an onsen, which is best described as a nature's hot tub.  Because it springs from the ground, there are minerals that are reported to be relaxing and healing. Usually hotels are attached to the onsen so people relax in their room, eat traditional fare and go back and forth to the onsen waters.

This experience is one I miss most about Japanese life and one that I have brought back with me. Recently, I've been really into finding natural body oils and washes.  The key is natural. So many body products contain aluminum, parabens and other gross stuff that our skin has to soak up. So, I've been on the hunt for some absolutely natural goods. I found a recipe for sugar scrub on this rad blog and made it. And loved it. It's true, just olive oil, brown sugar, white sugar and vanilla extract (optional, for scent).

what's so cool about it. the olive oil is incredibly moisturizing. You don't even have to put on lotion after (even in Colorado!) yet you aren't greasy at all. package them up and they're great gifts!
what i'll try next time: sunflower seed oil may be just as pure, without quite so strong a smell. And, I'll experiment with essential oils too.

p.s. with the pink striped shower curtain in mind, I thought a facebook album may have a picture of my cute, tiny little apartment in Sendai, Japan. I found a few!

my air conditioner garden

just remembered how smart things were for space. The sink faucet just cranked over to be the bath faucet to fill the tub.

there she is, the kitchen. (all of it.)  And there were 6 of us for Thanksgiving????

Cheers to Hot Toddy's!

A snowstorm day and the day after are some of the wonders of Colorado that I like most. The day with snow falling naturally beckons everyone to take a little break. To go only where is needed or really sought after, eliminating unnecessary activity. We seem to have more time. It's feels to me as though thoughts and ideas are whizzing all around with the snowflakes, and by slowing down we have a chance to be aware of them.

The day after the snow storm, the sky is as clear blue as can be imagined. Things are refreshed and clean. Getting out and about, around town is something exciting again because we remember that yesterday it wasn't exactly an option.

On a late morning walk to the bank today I started thinking about the weekend plans, and how I'd like to go to the Botanic Gardens trail of lights. During the season, they string lights through what seems every living thing in the garden. You and your companions walk along the paths that are lit up so beautifully, just like a winter wonderland.

The guy in the bank just happened to say he was going to the opening night of the trail of lights on Saturday, and that he'd be making hot toddy's to bring in a thermos. And that sounded fun, except I wasn't exactly sure what ingredients were in a hot toddy in the first place. So, after doing a little research, here is what I found. This is the recipe I'll be using to try this season:

photo found at marthastewartliving.com via pinterest

Ingredients

• 1 teaspoon honey
• 2 fluid ounces boiling water
• 1 1/2 fluid ounces whiskey
• 3 whole cloves
• 1 cinnamon stick
• 1 slice lemon
• 1 pinch ground nutmeg

Directions 

Pour the honey, boiling water, and whiskey into a mug. Spice it with the cloves and cinnamon, and put in the slice of lemon. Let the mixture stand for 5 minutes so the flavors can mingle, then sprinkle with a pinch of nutmeg before serving.

There are many recipes out there to try, and unlimited ways to serve them too. Cheers!

                                                                              

                                                                                  Source: google.com via Alice on Pinterest

                                                                  Source: versesfrommykitchen.blogspot.com via bringingupboys on Pinterest

                                                                                Source: thekitchn.com via Annie on Pinterest

cover letter.

Dear Martha Stewart Living and/or Better Homes and Gardens,  
Just in case you're looking to start 2012 off with a little project, I was thinking today how it'd be really fun to work together.  Because, here's the deal:

1. Sugar cookie dough is in my fridge hardening as we speak. #domesticdiva
2. Working from home would rock.
3. I'm a real fan and have been since I was a young girl when my Mom kept your magazines on the coffee table.
4. I live in LoDo, Denver and it's a happenin' spot.
5. I like to blog and use social media. quite a bit.
6. I have aspirations to make peppermint meringues this season. #challenge.
7. Making things look beautiful is an addiction.
8. So is taking pictures of beautiful things and writing about them.
9. Revamping this vanity room was how I spent my Sunday (these things are found fun.)
10. it'd be fun, eh?

But seriously, this is how a good chunk of the last day of vacation before work was spent. Ever since seeing my friend Mayu's vanity, back in 2006  in Japan, I decided that I too, would always like to have a 'getting ready zone.' And this is the current version.

yuletide ambitions

This Christmas season I'm feeling traditional. I'm feeling like doing all those things that are reserved just for this month. Here's how my seasonal to-do list is shaping up:

1. make a technically difficult cookie.
2. finish at least one container of Peppermint ice cream.
3. string popcorn and cranberries.
4. host a girls brunch.
5.drink egg nog, spiked.
6.find a mistletoe.
7.wear my black Express holiday dress somewhere.
8. send faraway Christmas presents on December 15th
9. see a live performance.
10. create a really good Christmas mix... B. B. King style. Like this:

a contender for the 2011 'technical cookie'

Dreyers pepperment ice cream- it's limited edition so....

She looks more into the season than she really is. bah humbug mutty, get with it.

I'm thinking, 'bake-off'

Thanksgiving Roles

Something clicked this Thanksgiving. Somewhere between setting the table with freshly turned seven years old Jaydan, helping flip the twenty two pound bird with Sandy mom, riding with my future sister-in-law to pick up Grandma Kathy and her deviled eggs, I realized that I have, and am apart of, a whole new tribe.

Not to say that in the past 4 years I wasn't apart of the family, because I was. But this year, I really felt it.  These are my peeps. And how I really know it's mutual is, I was allowed in the kitchen, I was allowed to work. Working on Thanksgiving determines one's role---it's either family-like or guest-like.

In previous years, I mingled in the living room with the other guests and made it to the table when instructed. I was guest all the way, which had it's perks but I wouldn't trade it because this turkey day, it was four of us ladies mad-dashing around the kitchen making things happen. As the youngest female, I was mostly assistant to the main chefs, thinking of the details, an extra two hands in minor emergencies and making the feast look pretty, displayed on platters. While bringing out items to the table, you may get invited into the living room conversation, but every cook, assistant or not, knows to keep it short out there, you gotta get back in the kitchen, all hands on deck!

There are times in the Thanksgiving kitchen when all is happening at once, strain the broccoli before it's soggy, take out the green bean casserole before it's burnt, who's going to carve the turkey?! hurry and put the rolls in, almost forgot the cranberry! Other times in the kitchen, all is calm. News is caught up on (Kohl's has a great black Friday sale going on) and wonders,  chats and votes on things such as is Bailey dog ok? (she is female and really wanted to be in the kitchen too.)

Cheers to the harvest season, for taking stock of all the abundance of the year before we cozy down for a winter's dreaming slumber. (cheers to leftovers too!)

Gravy making

last minute preparations before the feast begins

Bailey really wanted to come inside the kitchen

a glass of wine with dishes is a bonus

A day of Preparations

I'm dreaming of a white.....Halloween. (?)

Hunker down time is approaching. Refrigerated rain is on it's way... it'll arrive tonight.

At 7 last night I realized that I had one chance to make it to the Holy Land before the first flake falls. One chance to load up on the food essentials (ok, and nail polish and a snazzy new flannel shirt too) One little chance to peruse the local Target, so last night, I went, I shopped, I prepared.

Morning arrived today (suprising I know) and right away I should've known this day would be one to note. The proof was right there next to the coffee pot. Last night, I so gingerly placed a box of Tazo Thrive tea next to the coffee pot before bed, thinking that perhaps tomorrow (which is now today)  I would naturally choose a delicate green tea over coffee. Fat Chance! I went coffee all the way, and it's a good thing because it's been a day of preparation.

And here's the thing. I'm not the only one preparing. The President is in town and he will be speaking at the Pepsi Center tonight, which is right next to my work. Like, literally a stone's throw (if you're a pitcher) so, just outside of our work windows we watched the symphony of preparations go on. It was just in the air.

And that air must've been in our apartment, down the street because AMC was feeling it too. Just check out this picture mail I received while at my desk at work, watching the preparations across the way....check out the glorious-ness of this clean and ever so smartly organized refrigerator of my dreams:

And I am not responsible for the beauty of this.

So, here's is how it all went down. 

While putting away the Target groceries last night, I mentioned, (okay, exasperated) 

"oh, i have to clean out this fridge, sigh and blah blah blah. to which, AMC cut me off saying, "I'll do it- it's my turn to do something." To which my chin. dropped. open. And I danced a little on the inside, and maybe on the outside. I thought, oh cool, he'll get to it in the next week. 

But the cold, hard truth of the matter is, he woke up this morning, donned his sword and slayed that dragon, that fridge. 

dreamy.

So, by now, all the preparations have been made- the President is here in town, we have food for the first snowfall and our fridge looks gorgeous. What else does one need, right?

Here's to the changing of a new season,  here's to preparing for a long winter's, cozy nap.

Bon Appetit, potato soup

Blustery days call for soup. it was good that it was blustery 'round these parts yesterday because Potato soup happened. And 'round this loft, where a Mutty cat lives, we love potatoes- in soup form, on a blustery day.

flavored butter

In all of my 'nice weather' plans, which included grocery getting, I was going to try a recipe out of Bon Apetite magazine for scallops, which is, well, quite exotic, right? Then, my menu expanded when I turned the page and saw a recipe for flavored butters- honey butter, herb and lemon, porcini- red wine....holy, holy butter. My Father has taught his children many valuable things in life, like how to enjoy butter. I promise you this, never have you seen a slab of butter meet a hunk of baguette before JimboliniPops. Butter is part of our families religion, we have faith in butter. So, because Jimbo is turning 55 today, we are #1. having Frogmore stew tonight at the Boulder house. #2 going camping this weekend to celebrate him. So, that means, #1. tonight I am bringing a micro-brewed beer in a glass jug (professionally called a growler) of beer that is being "born"at the brewery we live above, today, on my father's day of birth. #3. I think I'll make some "flavored" butter for the camping trip.

So, my exotic dinner plans of scallops and flavored butter were bulldozed right over when Mr. weather spoke blustery today, and Potato Soup beckoned instead. And here's the thing about potato soup. #1. According to AMC, he could eat it, and black beans and rice everyday. 2. it may be the best thing I make 3. it's sooooo easy 4. it's the best thing I make because it's so easy, you don't even need to follow a recipe, it's more of a "flow." 5. try it and let me know.....

Blustery day Potato Soup:

Fill a saucepan with chicken broth. Cut 4 potatoes into medium-sized chunks, along with 1/2 and onion and a few gloves of crushed garlic. Add 3 bay leaves. Boil about 25 minutes, until potatoes are soft. Remove bay leaves. Pour into a blender and blend until smooth. Return soup to saucepan and melt 1/2 stick of butter and maybe 2 tablespoons of half and half. Add salt and pepper as enjoyed.

pair with a simple salad and baguette.

House cleaning is best done wearing heels

A few weeks back, AMC and I visited the quirky and lovable town of Austin, Texas, to visit AMC's Uncle Phil. While there, it was sweltering hot. Sweltering. I have spent a good amount of my existence living in Florida so I know heat, or at least I thought I did. Looking back now, I understand that the land of Austin was on the brink of some weather phenomenon, and I think we all instinctually knew it, but did our best in thinking that maybe if we were polite and didn't mention it, maybe Mother Earth would just decide to rain instead of burst into flames.... but as with all of life, we must trust that at this time, flames are necessary. So, on with the story here....

The purpose of this story is to give glory to HOUSEWORK. And, most importantly, the glory that housework can be had when one wears the appropriate accessories. While in Austin, I noticed a stunning vintage pair of earrings by the sink. Being the trained and skilled antique shopper that I am- I know a good pair of vintage earrings when I see them, and well, the temptation to touch and try on is always too hot to handle and so I tried them on and wore them. Phil, being the flamboyant lover of men that he is, saw them and enthusiasticly announced that

"doing dishes is always more fun wearing jewelry. and so is paying bills. And cleaning is best done in heels!"

And isn't this true?! A friend of mine growing up had a mother who kept a beautiful house. It was always perfectly clean. Her mother made cleaning into an event, and most events call for a cheers and a toast, so her mother cleaned and drank wine. And LL's Minerva Mommy opened all of the windows in the house and blared Madonna's Immaculate Collection tape (yes, like cassette:) and all of the kids in the neighborhood thought that LL's mom was "so cool."

Every so often we check the mail and something really really exciting happens. We notice a "fun" colored envelope in the mix, with real handwriting from someone we recognize (isn't it funny how we know someone by their handwriting?) and even sometimes, we open the mailbox and see MANILA!!!! Which was me, hours ago when I received a package from my Grams, my Patricia Grammie....my dear! And we all know when we get something from Patricia Grammie, we are in for a TREAT. She knows all about the tangible world- she knows the things that will make a girl squeal and just love this physical side of life. She knows that every girl who loves to be in the kitchen, dreams of aprons!

Along with the aprons came a note, explaining that my Grandma's Grandma (Eva) wore aprons, and so did my Grandma's mom (Grandma Church) and, since I've gotten the "baking itch" from my Grandma- I should be wearing aprons too. I suppose it's in our blood, which is a really good explanation of why on God's great earth my favorite magazine as a wee little thing was Better Homes and Gardens.

My senior year of high school I took a class where we created a vision board. We were instructed to cut out pictures from a magazine of the things we wanted in life. Oh, what I would do to see that board now, because all I remember is standing in front of the class, explaining the peaceful, beautiful home that I dreamt of. Remembering this dream of my 18 year old self makes me feel as if maybe I have accomplished something dear to my heart afterall... and maybe it isn't earth changing, but it sure is soul soothing, this creating a home. It turns out, that just want we've always wanted, is sometimes right under our nose....and is sometimes donned in an apron!

"quiche"spirations

The other evening, I came to a realization over my quiche. I came into knowing not only how I love it so but also the heart strings it just tugs on. This love of mine for quiche, inspires me- to live a little larger. quiche that is, nudges me on to live that first class life, literally. It's always there for you when you need it. An omelette with a crust, I mean, how universal! It can be eaten at any moment--breakfast, brunch... even linner. While inhaling my brocolli cheddar quiche for dinner the other evening, all of my quiche filled memories flooded ye old brain, and I began to understand just why this quiche takes me to a lovely land. Eating outside at the Botanic Gardens with friends one evening, I felt positively European eating quiche with wine. Those two chums go well together, but then again, what doesn't with wine then, yes? Then I remembered the day I fell in love with quiche, for all of the feelings it inspires.

In my youngin' days, all of my school breaks were spent with my dear Dad, Jim-bo, and soulmate stepmom Mary Sue. Starting at age 6 when they moved to Colorado, I'd pack up my Jansport backpack full of notebooks, markers and books, say bye to my Mom and walk on down the jetway with an escort, who would sit me in my coach class seat. For one whole day of traveling, I was free to eat my Oreo's first and skip my fruit. I could use my emergency $20 on frozen yogurt with colored sprinkles and no one but my escort would know.

Florida to Colorado always required a layover in those days, usually in Ft. Worth, Texas. And in the winter, the weather would sometimes wreck havoc and on one spectacular occasion, this havoc was my haven. Here's how it all went down, and the quiche inspiration sprang up in my heart.

I was probably ripe old 8 or 9. I landed in Texas and there was a whole lotta commotion going on when my escort and I traveled through the airport on one of those beeping vehicles that move people through the airport slower than one could walk. When we arrived at my gate, something happened, it was cancelled, or delayed by a million years.... or just my angels delivering my days destiny. As a kiddo, I imagine, those airlines want you off of their responsibility list and into the safe, loving arms of any parent they can scrounge up, ASAP. So, they get you on plane, darnit, as soon as they can. This meant, NOW on that dear day. We sprinted through the terminal, "just like in Home Alone" I thought as I raced behind my escort and right up to a peaceful, empty gate where a pretty stewardess was waiting for me in front of the open door. The two responsible adults exchanged a quick report which included something about the plane being held for me and we had to HURRY! The hand off of papers occured and thru the breezeway we scampered and that pretty lady that looked liked Glinda the good witch, sat me in the very first seat that was open, which ladies and gentlemen, was in FIRST CLASS.

The plane moved away from the gate seconds later and I looked around stunned at the men in business suits around me that we much to busy reading their newspapers without any pictures (wall street journal?) to notice me. I didn't get to comfy at first because I thought for sure that when we were up in the air they would move me back to my "real' seat in coach. But, when the flight attendant came to me next, instead she asked what I wished to drink, and delivered my ginger ale in what just had to be "crystal," for sure. I could hardly contain my excitement about sitting up there in such luxury, but, I decided that I had to be my most mature and polite self, I had to pull off my princess power, and act like this was quite natural.

Glinda came next to take my meal order. Would I like French Toast or Quiche? Are you kidding? Even today this ranks as the hardest meal decision I could face. But, any princess would order Quiche of course, and so, I did. And out it came, with a cloth napkin and "crystal" salt and pepper shakers. I looked around as if to say to the neighbors around me, "are you seeing this?!" That in-flight meal was never so savored, so delicately eaten. My manners have probably never been so polished, as those moments with my first-class quiche.

And so the love endures.....

about those Swedes....

Last night, I went for it and took on the IKEA factor. I got right to it after work and at 5:00 jumped on the highway, which landed me with a whole new experience...rush hour. Working just blocks away from home and a bicycle ride at that, rush hour is a beast I only hear of, but rarely meet. It's kind of an Alf or a Harry kinda of beast here in Denver (at least yesterday anyway)---it looks more ferocious than it actually is (although you definitely wouldn't want it to cohabitate with you, by any means). Anyway Anyway Anyway....there, after 36 minutes of highway hoopla, it was. The happiest boxstore since well, Loehmann's in South Florida, but that's a whole 'nother post. Big, bubbly and BLUE is IKEA...there's no missing that exit.

I'll tell you what, Swedes are smart. They may as well be synonyms. The store is huge, it's Bed Bath and Beyond on crack, scratch that--- on meth. It's probably 5 times the size-- seriously. But, it is smartly and organizedly <------(not a word?) so. Where do I begin? Well, at the beginning then.

Grand opening is a big deal, and apparently it is still, 10 days later. So, to help escort you into a parking spot, those sweet Swedes hired Event Staff sporting parking wands to point you on your way. We aren't talking 10 staffers, we're looking at more like 100, per shift. Upon scoring a front row spot by the elevators, I jump in with a bunch of stroller donning couples, the doors close and the scent infiltrates my schnoz---- cinnamon rolls, boy those Swedes- they are smart. Smells like the home sweet home I want, and by golly, I am gonna shop my way to it!

And, we're off! Off the elevator and into....santa's workshop. Elves (shoppers) scurry around, speculating, sitting upon, opening drawers...they all seem to know what they are doing. Have they been here before? I, on the other hand, am a fish out of water. But, those Swedes, they know there are those out there like me.... those who need just a bit of logistix, some kind of game plan for the field, some kind of..."instruction manual." Ahhh, sign with 4 simple steps, I can do this!

You start in the "showrooms." Which honestly was very foreign to me (no pun intended this time). How unAmerican, you mean, I walk from room to room, desiring goods to consume, but I don't get them right now? Nope, instant gratification is not here... instead, you walk around with a "list," which looks like a golf scorecard actually, and write down what you like, that you will pick up later, when you get to step 4. The showroom was not doing it for me, until I realized that I just had culture shock. True blue, real deal, culture shock.This shopping theory was so new to me, that, just like being in another country, it took me some minutes (60 of them) to assimilate into. For one whole hour, I walked the entire store, not picking up one thing. I actually worried to myself, am I really not going to buy anything? When I made it to the checkout (the OZ) perhaps I felt as if I had a sense of the "lay of the land" of this culture. And, I turned around and went back thru----backwords. Kind of like those people who read a magazine starting from the back cover (you know who you are). And all of my worries evaporated right there in the cinnamon bun air when I rediscovered, the textiles.

Oh fabrics! duvets, sheets, curtains, rugs, towels.....my pretties! Forget the coffeetables, here are the pillow shams!! I learned something about myself there under the flourescent lights, my love of weaved cloth of any kind runs way, super.... deep. And so, the American consumer is me resurfaced and I filled my yellow Ikea bag with linen curtains and silky feeling pillow covers and fluffy washcloths... ah, yes, I found my way along the yellow brick road...you can stamp my passport!

How I appreciate those Swedes, for they are so detailed, well, just so gosh darn smart! They provide signs to move about, well designed and such functional furniture. They had the coolest "exhibit".... a 590 square foot "home." teeny tiny right? But it had it ALL....living, dining, kitchen, Ma and Pa's room and a little kiddo room....such smartly used space. What a model for living as we continue to multiply on the planet. They also do so at such smart prices and with very little waste. No unneccesary packaging and remember your own bags because they don't provide them, which helps keep their prices lower, I imagine, and, keeps our sea turtles happier.

Satisfied with the my Swedish shopping experience, they whopped me with their smarts one last time on the way out. They provide a moving walkway for you and your cart (never seen it before) It's not any wider than it has to be and the tracking fits perfectly with the cart wheels, so they grip and keep your cart from sliding when going downhill.... and you don't have to do a thing.  Oh, those Swedes.......

thru those pearly white gates....

if you forget yours, buy a good grocery gettin' bag

a showroom

4 easy steps to domestic bliss

beets, oh the rapture!

Saturday morning, AMC and I ventured out early (in weekend world that is) and headed down to the farmers market. I snatched up the very last chocolate croissant and we ate breakfast burritos with green chili. Green chili is an institution in the West, or at least in Colorado. I, in all of my midwestern and southern cultured life, tell you that I had never had green chili until living here among the tumbleweeds of the West, and now it is everywhere! It's kinda like cuban sandwiches in Florida- you can find them on most menus, but once you leave the sunshine state- you never really get them as an option. Or, jamming. No one really jams their strawberries and such outside of the midwest. It's a romantic idea though.

Beets. So exotic they were there at the market. They stopped me in my tracks and I pondered for a moment, just how it might feel to walk around the rest of the morning with a bag full of beets. The dream quickly turned to intimidation when I fast forwarded to being in my kitchen with bulbs of beets on the cutting board---- and not a clue as to how to manage one, let alone Cinderella it into something delightful. (if you have a way with beets, please share!)

She knows how to 'bippity boppity boo' some beets