#171 He Loves Chocolate Mousse

There's an empty spot in my heart tonight.

Because tonight I took down my Christmas tree.

The good news is, that Christmas 2015 is just a little more than 10 months away.

So start that shopping!

Okay, I kid.

This winter has been pretty chilly. And what goes better with chilly weather than chili--the food? Every year, Hubby's work holds a chili cook-off. I forced his coworker, Drew, to enter. So he forced me to come over and cook it with him.

I guess it was a fair trade.

Drew has a TV in his kitchen.

It was the highlight of my day.

Drew wasn't impressed with my excitement.

I'd post a picture of the chili, but the pictures I took weren't so flattering. I was more concerned with getting a bowlful to test taste.

The recipe we used was Pioneer Woman's (who else's?!) Chipotle Chicken Chili. It was delicious, but didn't take first place. A traditional beef chili did, so I don't truly consider it a loss, especially since one of the judges voted us for first, and especially especially since Drew took last place last year.

Anything above that is definitely improvement in my book.

The next day some of our favorite people came over to watch the Super Bowl with us. 

Before the game, we watched the movie Gone Girl. If you haven't seen it, all I'll say is, it was crazy.

Hubby had to leave the movie half way through to start making game day snacks.

He may or may not have given me a little lip about missing the end of the movie. But then I reminded him that he was the one that chose to make rotisserie chicken wings, homemade potato skins, and queso instead of buying frozen apps.

He did an amazing job. I made sure to save his Snapchat of it all since I was almost too eager to take this picture:

 

The potato skins were amazing. I probably could have eaten half the platter. The wings were a little too spicy for me, but the meat was incredibly tender. Hubby is a perfectionist and hates his queso, but I loved it.

This past weekend I went shopping with Drew and while we were chatting with a salesperson I saw this:

Naturally, I needed to take a picture of it.

The next day, my sister-in-law and I made a family dinner to celebrate my Gram's 82nd birthday.

 

Doesn't she look good for 82? I keep crossing my fingers that it's hereditary.

Gram loves strawberry desserts, so I made her my strawberry trifle. 

Almost half of my family are babies when it comes to fruit in their desserts. Thank goodness I have been delivered of this. For the nose wrinklers, I made chocolate mousse.

Chocolate mousse is Hubby's favorite. So really, I made chocolate mousse for Hubby. I used Bon Appetit's Classic Chocolate Mousse recipe. I expected the mousse to be much harder to make. The only thing that surprised me was that it calls for 1/4 cup of espresso or strong coffee. I've never noticed a coffee flavor in any classic chocolate mousse that I have tasted before. It wasn't a horrible flavor, but if you aren't expecting it or if you aren't a coffee lover, you might not like it.

 
Chili not chilly, good friends, good food, and a birthday celebration--yeah, my last two weekends have been pretty wonderful.

#88 He Wants to Grow Old Together

"If you live to be 100, I hope to live to be 100 minus a day so I never have to live without you,"

~Winnie the Pooh

Most of us aren't too fond of the idea that each year we grow a little older.  Bones begin to crack, skin begins to crinkle, and the thought of going to bed at 7:00 suddenly seems a perfectly normal and natural thing to do.  In fact, we wonder what was wrong with us all those years that we fought bedtime.

After I turned 26 I decided that from that point on I would only celebrate anniversaries of my 25th birthday.  This year, for example, I celebrated my 25th birthday for the third time.

I know that I'm only kidding myself.  I know in my bones that I'm 27.  And when my dreaded 30th birthday comes, despite the fact I'll tell everyone I'm 25 (for the sixth time), I'll know.  

My Gram turned 80 yesterday.  To celebrate such a monumental occasion my mom planned a surprise party at Villa Mannino in Bordentown.  

I'm sorry, but I have to say it.  There isn't any better looking 80-year-old woman out there.

It's hard to truly convey who my Gram is and all the life, love, and energy that is a part of knowing her.  But here's a small start:

She wears heels.  Often.
She walks in the city in heels.  And doesn't complain.
She maintains her pool.  Without any help.  In wedges.
She lets you borrow her car.  Without question, without concern; other than for your safety.
She cooks.  For everyone and anyone.
She is hospitable.  If she has known you forever or she just met you she will care for you like you are her own.
She is selfless.  Ask for the shirt off her back and she will find a way to give it to you.
She is caring.  Sincerely caring.  She is one of the people that make this world a better place.

So we celebrated the wonder that is Gram with champagne and white wine, her favorite.

Pretty packaged presents.

A bounty of balloons.

And entertainment from all her grandchildren.

I don't think she stopped smiling.

My little brother, Joel, a much more eloquent and entertaining speaker than I, got everyone to share a little love for Gram.  We laughed, and cried happy tears, thinking of all the goodness and blessings Gram has bestowed on all who know her.

We had cake which on the outside looked like any typical birthday cake...

but on the inside was mind blowing.  Spongy vanilla cake with smooth whipped cream and strawberries--yum, yum, yum!  It made me desperately want summer so that I could make my strawberry shortcake trifle.

Joel's friend Tyler enjoyed the cake too.  He got a little jealous of all the pictures I was taking of it, so I snapped a quick one of him.

And one of hubby too.  Doesn't he look positively dreamy in his vest and tie?

The overall wish of all the guests was that they might all look as good as Gram when they reach 80.

This is my wish too.

It was in the midst of all this, when I recognized that growing old is what you make it.  If you focus on the fact that you're sagging in places that you didn't even know could sag, that you have lost count of your gray hairs, or that you suddenly shake your finger at little rascals and threaten to call the cops on them; you simply have become old.  But if you look at life's problems and take Gram's philosophy that Joel quoted of, "Screw it!" you'll always be young at heart.

I know I'll never love the number I am in age, but I know that I want to grow old and I want to be like Gram as I do it.  I want to exemplify youth in old age and live life to its absolute fullest.  And as I do it, I also want to remember the seventeen-year old-lovers of my youth who promised each other that they could never live one moment apart.  Remembering this, I'll treasure my husband more and more with each passing day we share together as one.
 

#47 He Celebrates Birthdays, aka, Here's Strawberry Shortcake Trifle, baby!

I know. It's a pathetic title for another post from the delicious dessert world of trifles. But you'll be happy I did it.

I made this Strawberry Shortcake Trifle in February. My grandmother's 79th birthday was approaching and I insisted she tell me her dessert of choice. She doesn't usually get that liberty. My family isn't really a fruity dessert family. We love our chocolate and our Acme whipped cream birthday cakes, but please, keep that fruit on the side. Fruit instantly makes one feel that their dessert has become a little healthy. My family does not want such illusions.

Gram, on the other hand, loves fruit in her dessert. So, I scoured the internet for strawberry shortcake recipes that I thought would be perfect. I just couldn't find anything that made me instantly drool onto my keyboard, so I improvised my Chocolate Trifle into a Strawberry Shortcake Trifle. It was so good, my brother's girlfriend asked me to make it for her birthday.

Here's what you need:

• Yellow cake mix--any kind will do
• (2) 8oz containers of whipped cream
• 14 oz can of sweetened condensed milk
• 2 containers of strawberries
• 3.4 oz box of instant vanilla pudding (I went all fancy and used French vanilla).

Make the cake according to the directions on the box. Allow to cool completely.

(Don't cover with plastic because you have to run out of the house, then come back and rip the plastic off leaving an ugly crater, and then take a picture of it).

In a large box mix together the pudding mix, sweetened condensed milk, and one cup of water.

Mix until it is smooth, of a pastel yellow color, and no lumps can be seen with the naked eye.

Fold in one of your whipped cream containers.

Slice up your strawberries. I cut them into quarters. If you want them especially sweet sprinkle a little powdered sugar on them.

Cut the yellow cake in half. Freeze half the cake for another time when you are absolutely craving Strawberry Shortcake Trifle.

Cut the half of the half into one inch pieces. Then line the bottom of your trifle bowl with them.

Smush them down real good. This shouldn't be all pretty and perfect.

Then. pour in half of the mousse mixture.

Cover with half of the strawberries.

Spread half of the remaining 8oz whipped cream container on top of the strawberries.

Repeat layers.

Gaze upon its beauty, and sigh. Not one ounce of fat, because there's fruit in it, you see.

Then, for extra pizzazz, throw a few strawberries on top.

Happy 20th Birthday Mallory!

#28 He Doesn't Mind Getting Old

It has finally happened. I celebrated my very last birthday ever. Last year, I was clueless, blinded by the joy that reaching a memorable age like 25 brings.

Okay, that's not true.

I anticipated this birthday even last year, but I pretended that it would never come. It's rather pathetic, I know. It's especially hard to moan and groan about my age when most people I might moan and groan to are older than me. Much older than me.

However, here is the problem: I've been lied to.

Going through high school you're told that all you need to do is go to college and then enjoy life in your field which you spent a mere four years preparing for. The unfortunate thing that they never tell you is that many will not know what they really want to do and may not be able to grasp it instantly. It will take trial and error, and lots and lots of sweat and tears (I left the blood part out on purpose, so far that hasn't happened to me).

You're expected at 17-years-old to make choices that will impact the rest of your life. But, no one ever tells you that you may not fit into the perfect cookie cutter shaped career world that many ease right into.

Turning 26 reminded me that there is a lot that at 17 I expected to have accomplished by now, but haven't.

I walked into my home at midnight on my birthday, overwhelmed with emotion, tired and ready to climb into bed and pull the covers over my head so the next year could just go on and pass me by, when I walked into a surprise left by my little brother (with the assistance of his girlfriend and my older brother):

(Notes leading into my home)

(Not sure the deal with the skeletons, but it made for an interesting picture).

Knowing the anxiety I was feeling, he went to extreme efforts to try and make me feel special. It took a few days for it to sink in, but I realized: maybe I haven't done everything I hoped and dreamed I'd do by 26, but I've done a few things right. I've been a good sister, daughter, wife, and simply put: woman. I've been there for those who needed me. I've done my best at showing love to those who are unlovable. I've been supportive and understanding. I've grown spiritually. I've listened to others. I've built friendships.

I've loved and been loved.

Sappy? Yes. And yes, in some sense I'm not where 17-year-old me thought I'd be by 26, but in many respects, I'm right on track.

Here's to the hope of what good I can continue to do this year.