The One With Riz Au Lait

Sometime since about January I have been meaning to attempt making the French dessert riz au lait. The standards were set extremely high as my French mum made the last batch that I consumed such an abundance of. Last week I perused the Internet for some simple yet still French style recipes and came across a blog that I have since come to read and enjoy often.

This particular recipe came with a story about memories with a grandmother so I was even keener on attempting this one. The first skepticism, however, came when the recipe’s first ingredient was Arborio rice. Lucikly, a dear friend and cousin helped me in my search for this. Thanks Price Chopper for providing. Also feeling skeptical of the vanilla bean and seeding it I continued my Internet search for some tips. Feeling confident in at least knowing what a vanilla bean looked like I made my way back to Price Chopper and was yet again successful in my search. Finding things in grocery stores always proves to be a chore so I consider both of these findings great successes.

Finally having all the necessary ingredients, enough rest, and a night with no plans I decided to indulge in some French cooking fun. I enthusiastically split open the vanilla bean and seeded it like a pro. It is insanely simple but it was a proud moment nonetheless. The smell of the vanilla, mixed with milk and cream, immediately made me want to melt into the pot that I had just added it to. Vanilla is my most favorite scent and I knew the dessert was going to be delectable. Twenty minutes later after countless stirs, a fair amount of sniffs, and uncontainable excitement I added the sugar and waited a whole two seconds before I started eating my own bowl of homemade riz au lait.

The first spoonful melted away all my cares of today, took me back to the holidays with my French family, and more than satisfied my eager taste buds. I know that my French family waits until Christmas to eat this dessert, but I am uncertain that I can say the same for me. Christmas will most definitely be a time for riz au lait, but I cannot say that it will be a specialty just for the day. Mom’s coffee café will have to remain the dish that we reserve strictly for Christmas.

Bon appétit!

The One With Remy

Four weeks ago tonight I took a picture of my Dharma-bear resting with her grandpa before Mr. Remington Gregory (as I affectionately refer to him) graced our household.

The first encounter between the two dogs did not in any way happen as I had envisioned. I imagined rear-end sniffs, face licks, and happy jumps. Instead Remy growled and lunged in the front yard, which left Dharma scared, traumatized, and later confused when we brought him inside with us.

The first few days they both remained on their leashes although Remy had already warmed to Dharma. She was reluctant to share any sort of affection or attention and was no stranger to turning her head away when he trotted by. Finally, feeling a surge of braveness, I unhooked the leashes from both of their collars and took a deep breath. It was fine. They both just sat where they were.

Things have remained relatively chill since then. There has been an occasional growl when one takes the other’s spot on the couch, a few barks when Remy wants to play and Dharma does not comprehend the idea behind fetch, and a minimal amount of redirection during the one night that they both stayed in bed with me.

It is nice to have another dog around even when all 36 pounds of him jumps into my lap and leaves my crotch aching for longer than welcomed. Even though Dharma does not like to share it is pleasant to see her sharing her tricks and blankets with her new brother.

Cheers to puppy buddies!

The One With the Butterfly

The smell of flowers at a funeral home is always so overwhelming. Today as I sat and waited for the eulogizing words of my friend's father, those flowers brought tears to my eyes and heart just like they always have and always will.

During the ceremony and graveside service I was keenly aware of all the young life that surrounded me. On one side of me sat a dear friend with his snoring son in his arms and on the other side sat an old friend with his daughter sprawled lovingly in his lap. That same precious girl later found innocence and love in a butterfly that she captured in her hands after rescuing it from the grass. As shameful as it is, I'll admit that I stepped on Butterfly before getting into the car.

It is the laughter, the love, and the little things that make my life worth it. Worth the pain and heartache. Worth the struggle and tears. So long as I recognize the good times and make the most of them then I'm considering that a miracle.

I was blessed today to see some great love even though it was in the midst of grief. I pray my friend and her family are able to find the coming laughter, love, and little things worthwhile.