mr. lorenzo, if you please.

sometime in january, i was driving down the road with my boys and i saw a billboard for the yellow green farmers market. i convinced the mister that our life is not complete without a weekly visit to a farmers market, so the following saturday we checked out the place. i tried hard to see this place as the market of my dreams, but reality won...it is a flea market with a few farmers and a pretty name.

fresh herbs. would you like conventional or organic? exactly.

now i have always dreamed of living in a small town - you know, the kind with a main street actually named "main street", home to a butcher, a baker, and a candlestick maker, where everybody knows my name - so, no surprise that i was itching to include a farmer's market in my weekly grocery shop.

maybe it is the palm tree, but this picture disguises the dinginess of the building.

enter lorenzo's farmers market. a squalid peach-colored building next to the railroad tracks. not exactly the open-air stalls of beautifully laid out produce from my dreams, but i am willing to sacrifice decor for the amazingness that is lorenzo's. a time warp that takes you back thirty years to the days before computerized inventory. here the prices are hand-written on signs and the cashiers have them all memorized to type them into the register. want to change a price? walk to the front of the store and tell the cashiers the new price. wow.

baskets and baskets of deliciousness.

on one side of the parking lot is lorenzo's farmers market. a tiny market bursting with every fruit and vegetable you can imagine and some you cannot. i have found things in that place that i have never heard of and it seems that every trip, there is something new at which to look. golden beets? check. fresh bay leaves? check. fresh garbanzo beans? check. black radishes? check.

love.

and the prices. oh my god, the prices. 99¢ for a pint of grape tomatoes?!? what? 79¢ for an avocado? who are these people? $1.19 for a bag of basil? puh-lease. last saturday i walked out with my three reusable grocery bags bursting at the seams, for a mere $23. heaven.

such an unassuming little place.

across the parking lot is the big daddy market, lorenzo's italian market and restaurant. looks like a whole lot of nothing from the outside. inside it is dreamy. upon entering, the first thing to greet you are two cases of homemade pasta. yum.

fresh, hand-made pasta. oooh la la.

wander around the little store and you will find a restaurant/café alongside several aisles of groceries. wrapped around this is the bakery, deli, butcher, and seafood counter. that is right kids, i found the little market from main street, usa, plopped in the middle of bustling miami. amazeballs.

an aisle devoted to pasta. both sides. dreamy.

and like its little farmers market cousin, it is bursting at the seams with yummy goodness. lots of things i know and a whole lotta craziness of which i had heard, but had never seen and certainly would not know where to buy. 20 pound bags of couscous? check. grape leaves? which brand would you like? pasta? there is an entire aisle!!! tomatoes in every form you can imagine? got it. cardamom pods you could not find anywhere else? check. and while the prices at the italian market are not jaw-droppingly low, they are no higher than the regular grocery store.

grape leaves, if you please.

whoa, olive oil. no joke, somewhere in that collection is a $58 bottle.

it only took me five and a half years of yearning for a farmers market, to discover that all this time, the little shop of my dreams has been 0.8 miles from my house.

p.s. yes, i plan to blatantly ignore the fact that we missed the entire month of march. details.

wonky windows #17.

wow. it has been a while. thanks to keri for reminding me that we should not neglect the windows!!!

this week is a window into a simple delight.

this melts my perfectionist heart.

seven weeks ago i gave birth to a little munchkin who likes to eat every two to three hours. since i opted to breastfeed him, we are sort of attached at the hip (well, actually it is the boob). pair that with the fact that his lack of vaccinations means we limit his excursions to public places and i am a stay-at-home mom. when i say stay-at-home, i mean, i literally do not leave the house. okay fine, i do. but it is rare. tuesday and wednesday pringle and i attend exercise class and on sundays i go grocery shopping.

holy organization. the joy, the joy.

the grocery shopping is sans pringle, which means it takes a bit of finagling. i needed a time that fit with the mister's studying, class, and work schedules, AND fit the munchkin's eating and sleeping schedule, so i picked sunday morning. early sunday morning. so early that i had to look at what time the store opens. 7am. that's right, this night owl heads to the grocery store at 7:00am sunday mornigs. eek. but there are some distinct beneifts. 1) it is easy to get an awesome parking spot. 2) the store is practically empty. 3)  the checkout lanes rarely have a line. 4) the bread in the bakery is still warm from the oven. and 5) the store is untouched, which makes it look delectable...hello produce!! which leads us to this week's pictures. these displays are always present, but by the time i used to show up in the afternoon, they were a mess. this organization; this perfection; this gloriousness, makes me want to sing from the rooftops.

interested in participating in wonky windows? check out the instructions.

wonky windows #16.

a window into our wonky world...
the mister and i love fruit. not fruits and vegetables. just fruit. we occasionally eat vegetables, but it is fruit that finds us in the grocery store four or five days a week. mostly we eat bananas, strawberries, pineapple, nectarines, and apples. but a few months ago we added watermelon. don't get me wrong....we always enjoyed watermelon, we just did not consume it that often. now i happen to be a lucky lass, because i am married to a championship watermelon picker. okay fine, he has not ever won a championship, but if there were such a contest, i would bet a lot of money that he would come out on top. he honed his skills in the fields of lesotho, so the grocery store with plenty of pickings is no match for him. we always got the lovely little watermelons, which according to this ny times article, are called "personal melons." right-o. they are about the size of a honeydew melon, seedless, taste delicious, and fit nicely into the refrigerator. oh and the mister and i can consume one in less than 24 hours.

the twenty-eight pound monster.

as of last week, those personal melons are old news. we have now regressed into the world of seeded (gasp!) and gigantic watermelons. last week the mister brought home a giant that was probably close to 20 pounds. ummm...we ate the whole thing...in 6 days. today, the mister was not feeling so bashful. he bought a 28 pound behemoth that is so gigantic it will not fit inside of the bag he was planning to use to keep it fresh. are we having a party? uhhh..nope. sharing with seven other families? uhhh..nope. this massive gem is just for the two of us (well three...pringle is a hungry little one). this leaves me wondering...is it possible to consume too much watermelon???

thanksgiving.

well things did not turn out exactly as planned. the mister was working from four to midnight, so we planned our big dinner for friday. our menu was roast chicken, sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes and gravy, biscuits, my mom's pineapple cheese gelatin salad, cranberry sauce, biscuits, and pecan pie. yummmmmy!! and then i got sick. the grocery shopping did not happen and neither did the cooking.  i ended up eating macaroni & cheese from a box, but happily i woke up today feeling loads better. i shopped the black friday sales from the sanctity of our bed, but by 3pm i could no longer contain myself. i wanted to browse around target (of course) and go to winn dixie to buy a pecan pie, just for a taste of thanksgiving.

the makings of our thanksgiving feast.

our pecan pie trip turned into a full-fledged "let's make a mini-thanksgiving meal." not exactly the meal i had originally planned, but it was not completely awful. we had fried chicken, mashed potatoes from a box, with gravy from a can, pre-packaged dinner rolls, cranberry sauce, potato salad and hawaiian delight from the deli, a store-made pecan pie, a can of whipped cream, and for some reason a watermelon. i am quite certain this was only one step up from having our thanksgiving dinner catered by burger king. but at least the plate of food satisfied my burning desire to participate in the feasts of thanksgiving.

certainly not the worst meal i have ever eaten.

despite not being able to enjoy the actual day of thanksgiving, i am still thankful for all the wonderful things in my life. most importantly, i am thankful for the mister, who this week won the award for world's greatest husband. i am thankful that we are happy and healthy (except for the little blips of colds and flu). and i am thankful for my family and friends, who love me through thick and thin.

i hope you all had a wonderful thanksgiving!!!

movin' on down to the west side.

oopsy poopsy, i seem to have once again wandered off on an unannounced hiatus. sorry about that. i am back and with an updated dandelion design. i have been hibernating...alternating my time between the couch and the sewing machine. ain't life grand?

today the mister and i went on a "quick" shopping trip, which turned into a seven hour adventure. only us. we leave the house and something inside our brains (okay fine, my brain) snaps and we enter some sort of time warp reserved for shopping. now i am still semi-banned from shopping, but we were on a mission to find gifts to give to our friends and family when we visit lesotho. the mister has already taken care of buying the "big" gifts, but today was the day to find all the filler stuff. my territory. to stay on budget we decided to visit dollar stores, but my favorite one closed last year. my attempts to find a replacement store have been greatly hindered by my instinct for self-preservation which has prevented me from entering the seedier neighborhoods which are home to the best discount shopping experiences. so i dragged along the hubby and we found not one, but two fabulous stores.

the first one was almost too much for me. i was not sure if it was a good idea to get out of the car, but i did. once we got inside i was thrilled, because the place was a gold mine. i even found a hot pink house dress. yay! and then the announcements started. some sort of live video and audio surveillance. the voice on the loudspeaker kept saying that we were being watched live and police would respond to any suspicious behavior. and then she asked the clerk a question to which the clerk was required to respond. all of this over the loudspeakers! the mister and i were kind of dumbfounded and wondering what we had stumbled into. we took it in stride and then the announcements started again. and again. and again. we got a little paranoid that maybe we were the suspicious characters, but we persevered. and we emerged unscathed.

the next store was a doozy. a GIGANTIC store with the world's most random collection of stuff. which i suppose explains the name of the store...."stuff." no joke. once we got over the name of the store we entered and discovered that two large and noisy fans are responsible for the climate control. result...sweltering. we wandered the aisles with sweat dripping off our brows. by the end the mister was ready to melt. but we found.......MSG! whaaat? don't get me wrong, i have seen this stuff on ingredient labels my whole life..my mums is allergic to it, so naturally the name is seared in my memory...but i have never actually realized that i could purchase a bottle of monosodium glutamate. never a dull moment in a dollar store.

seven hours, three dollar stores, two kmarts, and costco = nail polish, lip gloss, perfume, pencils, socks, radios, and shoes. might not seem like much, but finding the perfect bargains is a lot of work. today's trip was glorious. total success.

bananito.

a few days ago i was at the grocery store, in the produce section to be exact. i was totally engrossed in my efforts to pick the perfect apples for the mister. he likes any varieties that have that marbled red & yellow coloring, but prefers honeycrisps and pacifics, which seem to be available only three days a year. he also wants BIG apples. not regular sized apples, but the mondo probably-grown-with-steroids kind of apples. i have tried to figure this out to no avail. i once suggested that when ginormous apples are unavailable he could take two small apples. i was given the look of divine patience.  you know the one when they look at you and summon a heavenly calm, before lowering themselves to the dubious task of having to explain the mundane to a mortal. right then. BIG apples. got it.

anywhooo..i was merrily minding my own business selecting some large and unbruised fujis, when a lady called out to me from the banana display. she was holding up a tiny yellow blob and asked me if i had ever tried one. i am quite certain i gave her an utterly blank look. not out of disrespect, but out of sheer ignorance. i had absolutely no idea what she was holding. she explained that it is a baby banana and her friend "just loves them." since i was unable to give her any type of recommendation, she made the wise decision to buy one figuring if she loved it she could come back and get more. well now of course i have abandoned my pursuits with the mister's apples and am entranced by these little darlings. also called nino bananas, ladyfinger bananas, stubby bananas, and  finger bananas. they lack the graceful arc of a traditional banana, favoring a more rotund appearance similar to large and pudgy fingers (hence some of the nicknames), but they are unmistakably bananas.

at this point curiosity absolutely wins and i have no choice but to buy a baby banana myself. in fact, i buy two. one for me and one for the mister. he is a funny cat, sometimes he wants nothing to do with my food finds and other times he feels sadly neglected if i do not buy one for him. i erred on the side of caution and bought him his very own baby banana. i am sure you are all dying to know how a baby banana tastes and well....it tastes like a banana.

cook-a-rama.

i cant seem to stop cooking. last week i got myself all riled up wanting to make rice. so i dug through four cookbooks until i finally settled on a recipe for rice pilaf in a vegetarian cookbook that the mister and i got as a wedding present. the hubby, who is typically blase about the process of choosing what's for dinner, saw the picture and requested that i double the recipe. the ingredient list should have been fair warning that i was in over my head, but the mister's enthusiasm was contagious. so we went to the grocery store and circled the aisles like hawks, on the look-out for cumin seeds and green cardamon pods. no luck. so we stopped by a wee produce store that often has some of the more exotic spices available in the unground format. we found a little baggy only about 1/4 full of cumin seeds and suitably inexpensive. perfecto. and then we found the cardamon pods. a bursting full bag of cardamon seeds. did i mention that the recipe only called for eight pods? this baggy had somewhere upwards of five hundred! and it cost a small fortune. the mister and i looked at each other thinking the same thought...is it really stealing if we just take eight little pods? umm...YES! we are NOT going to jail for eight cardamon pods. just when i was gathering up my gumption to ask the clerk if we could buy eight pods, the mister dropped the baggy. cardamon pods scattered in every direction. the desire to scoop up eight and disappear was overwhelming, but once again my conscience inserted itself into the chaos and said "no, no, and NO." okay fine. so now instead of merely asking the clerk if we can buy eight pods, i have to inform her that my darling husband dumped a bag of the blasted beasties on the floor. interestingly, by this point my shame had flown the coop, and i gamely asked her if we could buy the pods singly. she looked at me as if i had just asked her to lick the floor and replied simply, "no." do i need to tell you that our rice pilaf was free of cardamon pods? we finally headed home, cooked up the rice with only a few major hiccups, and enjoyed the lovely delicacy. and let me tell you, it was lovely.

of course, hunting through my cookbooks embedded the cooking bug in my brain and exposed me to a whole host of recipes i wanted to try. so last sunday i continued my rice obsession and cooked up some stir fry. found an absolutely scrumptious stir fry sauce recipe. the food turned out delectable...this mister is not a huge fan. so sad. but not to worry...i also made noodle kugel. absolutely no relation between the two dishes. in fact the thought of eating both in the same sitting makes me want to vomit. sadly, the noodle kugel did not turn out as well as i had hoped and not surprisingly, the hubster requested that i not make this again. so essentially, we have a refrigerator full of not-so-yummy delicacies. great.

despite last weekend's kitchen failures, i was not daunted. yesterday i came to the conclusion that i absolutely HAD to make cinnamon rolls. so i did. we now have about five pounds of sugary, buttery, gooey wonderfulness hanging out in our fridge. as if that wasnt enough for one evening, i also decided that i wanted to make bread. sure sure. no problem. so i searched for "easy bread recipe" and found this recipe. turns out it is the brainchild of a new york baker, who's "minimalist bread" was featured in this ny times article. took 24 hours, but i officially made the most amazing loaf of bread i have ever produced (see the picture...yes, yes, that is the one that i made!!!). clearly, i have joined the masses who think that this recipe is miraculous. and as if creating cinnamon rolls and a beautiful boule were not enough, i also made red pepper risotto and fried chicken. somebody stop me. i need a twelve step program, because i am addicted to cooking.

shimmerama.

during the course of my life i have gone through phases of shunning everything feminine to embracing all the frills and fabulousness of being girly. interestingly, living in a small village in africa for two years, i discovered the joys of girldom. in my little hut i had ample time to play dress up, paint my nails crazy colors, and experiment with the meager supply of makeup i had brought. go figure that i left the states repulsed by skirts and frills and returned two years later with a new found love of my inner barbie. skirts, pink, and sparkles captured my imagination like never before.

naturally, having spent the majority of my formative years disregarding things like brushing my hair and wearing makeup, i was ill-prepared for my new self. i ambled through the drugstores seeking sparkles and pretties, but in reality i came home with a ramshackle assortment of nonsense that in no way resembled an adequate stash of beautifying accoutrements. lets be honest..wearing purple eyeshadow with green eyeliner and red lipstick only served to make me look like a clown. so i sought out the advice of my darling friend, who not only possessed superior cosmetics, but actually knew how to use them. unfortunately i was apparently untameable, because i still didnt see the harm in purchasing the 99cent specials from the wet & wild rack. yes, the makeup of middle school still held me in its grip. fast forward two years. the aforementioned lass puts me out of my misery, by applying my makeup for a stint as a bridesmaid. she made me look amazing. i was HOOKED. so then she drops the bombshell that was set to takeover my life. she tells me to wait until the department stores stock their holiday supplies, at which time she assures me i will be able to find some lovely eyeshadow pallets at prices that will be slightly less painful than other times of the year. and so begins my obsession.

my first holiday purchase was last year. after wandering through macys and nordstroms with my ever-patient pal, i discovered the dior counter where i bought the most darling little compact housing four perfectly classy and shimmery eyeshadows. i was in heaven. i have spent the last twelve months wearing nothing else. who needs a cupboard full of eyeshadow when you have this little delight?

still buoyed by my first foray into dreamy makeup, i decided to go back again this year. but this time i had a specific quest...shimmery pink. i went alone, which was my first mistake. after doing a bit of of online research i had two different products in mind. unfortunately, seeing these in person i was not satisfied. thus began the wander. unencumbered by the feeling that i was imposing on another person's time, i moseyed through two different cosmetic departments, circling the counters like a hawk. twice. to no avail. i remained empty-handed. and then the name "sephora" drifted into my head. i shuffled my little feet as fast as they would carry me to the mall directory. yes! sephora! straight ahead on the left.

entering sephora was mistake number two. that store left me speechless. a mass of makeup that i could try on without being hindered by beauticians wanting to make me look like them. fancy. so i happily wandered the aisles looking at shimmers and sparkles wondering which one was coming home with me. i tried on eye shadows like it was my job. one color would get wiped off just to be replaced by another. two hours. that's right. two hours. two hours i spent with eye shadows putting on, taking off, and putting on again until my eyelids were inflamed. i came home looking like a lopsided tramp with different colored shimmery shadows on each eye. super.

after all that i found myself at the dior counter once again buying their annual holiday compact. i bought it at macys because although i had discovered the delights of sephora, i didnt comprehend how truly amazing it is. they give you free samples! and birthday presents! whaaat? so i did what any self-respecting girl would do. i returned the compact to macys and bought it again on sephora.com to qualify for samples samples and more samples. according to the website my order is already packed and shipped. i can barely contain my excitement!

gobble gobble.

in an attempt to focus on my masters paper i am supposed to be on a blogging hiatus, but i am loathe to do my work and i simply cant resist telling the tale of our thanksgiving. ahh, thanksgiving. the wonderful american holiday dedicated to gorging on delicious food. as the mister and i both have ridiculous amounts of studying to occupy our time and he also had to work everyday, we decided to forgo the usual thanksgiving feast. check. and then the mister left for work. as he stepped out the front door he sniffed the air and declared that the neighbors' cooking smelled delicious. he looked at me. i looked at him. we realized that we wanted to partake in the scrumdidlyumptious delights that come with turkey day. thats right. 1245pm on thanksgiving day and i had to scrounge up a feast. sure. no problem. the first instinct was to buy a pecan pie and declare ourselves satisified. but being in possession of a recipe for the world's most scrumptious pecan pie it seems sacrilegious to purchase a store-made pie. then i pondered the possibilities. if i am planning to make a pie, i might as well make some biscuits and buy a can of jellied cranberry sauce (yum!). at that point i might as well throw together a couple of other treats, so i added green bean casserole and mashed potatoes to the list. and if mashed potatoes will be on the table then we certainly needed gravy. and heck, might as well have some meat.

the shopping. lovely winn dixie just waiting for my arrival. my regular jaunts to the grocery store typically find me spending inordinate amounts of time in the produce and dairy sections. i like to cook from scratch, so i dont typically have a lot of use for pre-cooked and prepared foods. but trying to throw together a feast on the fly, i decided to eliminate my usual snobbish attitude. shopping list: pecans, frozen pie crust, canned green beans, cream of mushroom soup, dried onion rings, canned gravy, rotisserie chicken, jellied cranberry sauce, and flour. thats right - cans cans cans and a few prepared items and i was out the door.

the cooking. i started with the pecan pie. no problem. or so i thought. sometime during its baking, part of it leaped over the edge of the pie crust and laminated itself to the bottom of the oven. nice. nothing like the aroma of burning sugar permeating the house. after that i breezed through the green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, and biscuits. heated up the gravy and chicken in the microwave. high class. i cleared off our teeny table and dressed it up with place mats, purty napkins, and candles. voila! instant feast.

total success. the mister and i dined on the delicious treats as if i had planned and cooked for days. now either i have turned into such a skilled chef that i can whip out feasts without a care in the world or, more likely, when you lower your expectations, you simultaneously lower the stress levels to the point that they are imperceptible.

one sandwich short of a picnic.

i am no longer in love with julia child. what's to love? she is divine. amazing. brilliant. a genius. nope, i am no longer in love. i have simply decided that i am her. i came to this conclusion yesterday evening when i trekked to the grocery store in search of a boneless round rump roast. perhaps you are curious why i am procuring rumps...because i am julia child and i decided my husband would enjoy eating boeuf bourguignon. our oven is on its annual fritz. yes, annual. every summer it starts acting funny and then in august and/or september it ceases to work, merely uttering an occasional pathetic beep. but, since i am julia child, do i let this bother me? no ma'am. i simply slide over to the dark side and whip up the betty crocker version of boeuf bourguignon, which only requires the use of the stove top.

now of course, since i am a famous chef, i am sure you are trying to determine why you do not see me on television. as we all know, any person who can cook worth a darn has a television show. it seems that since i share a personality with a deceased person, the networks are finding it difficult to stomach my entrée into their lineup. until i find an enlightened executive, i fear that i am sidelined from presenting my cooking prowess on the telly. do not despair. as a preparation for the day when my presence is desired on the small screen, each time i enter the kitchen i hone my presentation and imaginary audience skills, so as to maintain a constant state of readiness.

fresh in the water.

greetings one and all and welcome to the inner workings of my brain.

this is it. the official blog of pickel. lately i have been spending inordinate amounts of time by myself, which has prompted me to spend perverse periods of time contemplating the meaning of life. what better thing to do than share my lunacy with the world? okay fine. my reclusive behavior is 100% attributable to my desire to earn 1/8 of my masters degree in a six week period. seeing that i am second to only one in the world of procrastination, i spent the last six weeks engrossed in a plethora of activities purely designed to postpone the nightmare of daily coursework. one of my courses indoctrinated me into this strangle little world of blogging and then i met a lovely lady, who writes a fabulous blog (http://mymomsanerd.blogspot.com/), so i decided that i wanted to join this merry little band of bloggers.

since this is my first blog, who knows what direction it might take. for now i am thinking that it will just be a glimpse into the weird little world that i inhabit. i am sure my darling husband will be thrilled that i have decided to post our life on the internet. luckily for him, this post is about MY world, not his, so other than the fact that we cohabit the same world, he'll be immune. mhmm, sure. i predict he will be mentioned in every single post. so much for immunity.

current status: procrastinating. yes that's right. i have four papers to write today, totaling about seven thousand words. rather than even pretend to work on those papers, i decided to start a blog. this might be the most perfect tool i have ever discovered for delaying the inevitable. only my first post and i am already hooked.

unfortunately, i think that i should stop being so obvious about my dallying tactics. me thinks i shall go and peruse my favorite cookbooks. if i can write a shopping list before the mister gets home i might be able to prey on his hunger and convince him to go grocery shopping with me. since both grocery shopping and cooking qualify as official domestic business, they have every right to postpone studies. yesssss!! are you starting to get a picture of my capacity for lagging?