My life in pictures

Despite the mosquitos, this was so fun!

When I was about 18 years old, my first car, a (what was cool then) turquoise VW Golf, was stolen. In it were just about all of my childhood photos in a box, that I’d been planning to put together in scrapbooks but never got around to it. (Note to self and others: NEVER use your car as another closet!) I’ve been trying to make up for the first two decades of my life in lost pictures ever since then, ruining lots, losing lots and not storing them correctly (most of my photos now sit forlornly at my father’s house, in an old wicker picnic basket. But now, especially with my daughter’s impending arrival, I realize JUST how important, meaningful, life affirming and educational family photos are, and how they help us shape who we are, where we come from, and where we’re going…
That being said, we got a new camera yesterday. My Olympus Camedia has been a good friend to me these last 8 or so years, taking me to Munich several times, Paris, New York, Cloudcroft and many places in between. But it’s put itself into retirement mode, to the point where taking one simple photo of a stationary object takes about eight seconds. On a good day. We are the proud new owners of a Casio EX-H10, and I’m ecstatic. Ecstatic because now CHRISTIAN’s camera happy too, and shares with me the strong desire to record just about anything and everything. So we took 200 photos yesterday. You only have to endure a small percentage of those
I’m so grateful for Flickr and Picasa and iPhoto, my three “albums” of photos I have online. Now it’s time to start printing these babies out to fill up not a virtual scrapbook, but a real, true old-fashioned one that Hannah will be able to flip through and see the evolution of the Waldmannstetter-Kemp families.
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I picked up Christian from work at noon and we had an outdoor “picnic” at my dad’s house so we could hang out with the dogs. This weekend we’re going to housesit/dogsit for my dad, who is taking a much needed mini-vacation with my mom. We love dad’s house for its location (Kern Place), great outdoor grill and pretty amazing King size bed (we’re learning to deal with our Queen at our apartment…)

I didn't know just how big I was getting until I saw this...

It was a treat having cold pasta leftovers, salad and potato rolls while we watched the dogs entertain us, beg for treats, and snoop the cracks and crevices of the yard…

My male Shar-Pei/Pharoah Hound dog

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In the afternoon, we lolled about at home, avoiding the (still) heat outside, and playing with our new Casio toy…and then we took it on “safari” on the banks of the Rio Grande…

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We spent the evening at home, taking goofy shots and having dinner. Yes, I took photos of just about everything and anything, but no worries… I’ll get over it, lol.

Hausfrau in training

They FINALLY have my beloved Sharon fruit at the grocery store!!!

Semolina soup, turkey sandwich and salad dinner

A weekend to remember

Historically, I’ve not been a big fan of Memorial Day weekend. All of my previous jobs in journalism meant no Memorial Day off and twice in the past I was hospitalized on those weekends. No, not from too much partying (I wish!), but suffice it to say, I’ve tried to forget Memorial Day.
This year’s been different. Very different. I’m celebrating Memorial Day with my German-citizen-permanent-U.S.-resident husband, and I’m trying to make it a postcard perfect Memorial Day weekend. But actually, he’s doing that for ME.
This morning we rode our bikes for about 1.5 hours on the banks of the Rio Grande. To get there, we rode on the irrigation levees in the shade, and were in awe that such a great Venice-looking bike path existed in our neighborhood! Okay, “Venice-looking” might be stretching the truth a LITTLE bit, but if you have a very active imagination like me, you could just think maybe so…
On the way back, a wave of nausea hit me, and then some pretty intense dizziness, which scared me because it reminded me of the previous Memorial Day weekends. “Oh no, no, no, no!” But I made it home, drank tons of mineral water, lay on the couch and dozed an hour. Then I took a bath, and felt much better. Almost ready to take on another bike ride. But not quite
For lunch, I made a Banh Mi sandwich…or at least with what I had on hand… I used baguette, Srirachi sauce, some parsley (didn’t have cilantro), sliced green onion, sliced jalapeno, some mozarella cheese and a touch of mayonnaise. Okay, so not quite a Banh Mi, but it tasted great nonetheless. Served with a salad and a San Pelligrino lemonade. The PERFECT pick-me-up sandwich and lemonade and I must say, it looked very Bobby Flay-ish in its presentation, a Southwest-Vietnamese summer sandwich. Delish! Oh, oops. That’s Rachel Ray.
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After lunch, we decided to rearrange the furniture in our apartment, moving the sofa to the front of the apartment, near the front door, and our work station toward the back, in order to see our monitors more easily. This apartment is tinier than tiny so we really have to get creative or even desperate in terms of storing our things. But it also makes us not want too many things, at least now. The only worry I have right now is making a safe, comfortable and healthy space for the baby, but I’m sure we’ll figure that out! I love this apartment because it’s the first place my husband and I have lived in, alone, together. It’s OURS and we can do with it what we want (well, within the parameters of the lease, lol). But it’s nice to have our little starter home. It may be ours longer than as a “starter” with what we have now, but at least we are both content with it and grateful for what we have.
And I’m grateful for being grateful! I wasn’t always like that. I used to be one of those “the grass is always greener…” types, comparing my lot in life to others who were smarter, prettier, wealthier or all of the above. Now I’m not like that. I take such pleasure in the smallest things, and that is true happiness to me!
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So Christian made Schweinebraten, semmelknodeln, sauerkraut and potato salad tonight. His homage to his homeland. I “decorated” our balcony with little American flags for Memorial Day weekend, but paid tribute to Germany by placing the garden gnome by our potted plants (look how fast the corn from Rohr, Christian’s home town, is growing! And just two smuggled seeds in my jean pocket brings us a piece of Bavaria). The empty pot is holding seeds for sweet peas, which should sprout up any day now. No room to plant my oh-so-desired Victory Garden, but at least we’ll have some peas.
Tomorrow we attend a pot luck, and it’s my turn to cook. I’ll be making an Asian slaw with cabbage, green onion, jalapeno, sesame oil, sesame seeds and rice vinegar. In my experience with potlucks, 65 percent of the items are usually a potato salad, 20 percent macaroni or pasta salad, 10 percent potato chips and 5 percent dessert (when the entree meat is already included). So a nice, healthy slaw with no mayonnaise sounds like a sure-fire winner (and if not, Christian and I are winners, since we love the stuff and we’ll have lots to take home).
But then again, those potato salads at potlucks, no matter if they’re varied or not, always seem to run out, don’t they?

What’s YOUR handle?

When I was a kid, my parents (well, my dad really. Mom wasn’t into it) had a CB radio that we’d use on our long-distance family roadtrips to La Jolla, California, every summer. I remember my “handle,” or my nickname for other CB owners and truck drivers, was “Porky Pig.” Nah, I wasn’t obese, not even close. I guess I just liked food a lot and so that was my nickname. I never did ask dad why I was “Porky Pig,” and maybe I shouldn’t know, lol. My sister’s was “Coathangers,” because she DEFINITELY wasn’t obese, and my brother’s was “Taco Box,” because, well, he loved tacos.
My childhood “handle” does fit me quite nicely now! I’m not obese although if you JUST had a photograph of my abdomen, you might think about it. And I do seem to have an incredibly insatiable hankering for pork, especially my husband’s Schweinebraten. We got to have it last night, with all the trimmings (kartoffelsalat and sauerkraut). Only thing missing was Semmelknodeln — bread dumplings — but there was just not enough time last night. There’s always next time and, with Schweinebraten, next time is always just around the corner!
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Today, this morning, I got up at the glorious hour of 3:15 a.m. and had a cup of coffee (half milk for my baby) and then walked 30 minutes. I actually love walking at that time. Just me, feral cats, a few skunks and, on weekends, the late night-early morning partiers. No, really it’s a very quiet time, with cool air, crowing roosters and the time for me to think. Got home and had some breakfast, and then I felt it. A wave of nausea. Whooooo heeee! Yay! Anyone unfamiliar with my blog might think I was really a freak, but it was my first M/S (blog shorthand for “Morning Sickness”). I know, weird. But I have some further confirmation that this is the real deal, that my baby is alive. Not quite yet kicking, though. I have two more days before I get to see the doctor, and I already have a list two pages long of questions for him. Poor guy.
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Tonight Christian and I meet with a group of friends and then I’ll try to talk him into a bike ride. Finally brought my bikes over from my dad’s house. We didn’t earlier because there just wasn’t any room in our apartment. Still isn’t, lol, but we’ll try to stuff them into the outdoor storage closet.
Then it’s leftover Schweinebraten and the accompaniments, although I may drizzle some Srirachi sauce on my pork because, on top of my increasing cravings for comfort food, I find that my cravings for hot and spicy are increasing. And I really didn’t think that was humanly possible. Pickled jalapenos on tres leches ice cream? Score!

Fungi Sunday

It wasn’t easy returning from a dream trip to Manhattan back home to El Paso, but this morning’s sunrise reminded me of how fortunate I am to live in a place that has such amazing sunrises and sunsets, quiet neighborhoods where the honking of a horn turns heads, where most things are affordable, and people are very friendly and un-rushed.
Having said that, both Christian and I agree that we absolutely feel at home when we’re on the road. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we met for the first time on vacation in Munich, then again in Paris, and then again traveled together all over the Southwest USA, Bavaria and now New York. We are constantly seeking the NEW and unexplored and going off the beaten path.
So, it was difficult knowing when we got home Friday night that the NY trip would be the last trip for a while (I do have a Louis Vuitton satchel purse, a Steven Sprouse Louis Vuitton and a Fendi purse for sale if you’re interested. All used, all REAL. Please, fund our trip!!!)
If I had my passport with me in NY, I kid you not when I say that I would easily have expanded the trip by booking us directly to Munich. But unfortunately I left it at home, in the safety deposit box.
At least coming home had its advantages, however. After staying at the West Side YWCA near Columbus Circle in Manhattan, our little, little but PRIVATE bathroom at home seemed like a first-class spa. AND with HOT WATER!!! AND a door that locked! And no paralyzing jabs of scalding water if a nearby toilet flushed! I felt like I was at the Peninsula Hotel Spa with my $1 bath bubbles and rubber ducky when I got my first bath in four days (I am a bath girl, and there were only showers at the Y…not that I would have taken a bath there, anyway).
Also, getting to go online without having to get dressed, go down 11 floors to a busy hotel lobby and sitting Indian style on the floor… not paying $8 for an iceberg lettuce salad or $10 for a pack of cigarettes…walking with my husband early in the morning without a cold, chafing rush of wind or doing the “don’t step on the dog poop” dance…No 1/2 hour lines at Starbucks (I couldn’t believe the fact that there were lines at every Starbucks in NY, and there was one on almost every block!)… Well, maybe I’m just trying to convince myself, but you have to fake it till you make it, right?
I was very much looking forward to a delivery that was waiting for us when we arrived home. We’d won a blog contest and were shipped a great supply of dried mushrooms from MarxFoods.com. Justin from the company sent me the following: dried Northwest Mix mushrooms, dried Lobster Mushrooms, Black Trumpet Mushrooms, Dried Matsutake Mushrooms, Dried Porcinis and Dried Chanterelles. I am so excited to test these babies out, and that starts tonight. We’d already planned on roast chicken that we found on sale at Albertson’s (just $3 for three huge legs!), so I’ll make a sider of porcini creamed potatoes. Sounds simple, doesn’t it? I would be so tempted to add major spices like garlic, red pepper flakes or my new obsession, Vietnamese hot sauce. BUT I do want to taste the mushrooms and let their musky aroma penetrate through the potatoes.
Tomorrow night I’ll be creating an über-rich mushroom sauce to go with some penne. That will incorporate the black trumpets and some German spices and techniques passed on to me by Christian’s family. Maybe Tuesday night we’ll make Semmelknödel with dried lobster mushroom sauce. If you are from Bavaria and have an awesome mushroom sauce recipe, I would love to swap recipes with you, and post all the different recipes from the “homeland.” It will be interesting to see the subtle and the drastic differences!
And now, I will peruse the many takeout menus I grabbed in New York and posted on my finally-full fridge and see if I can come up with something tasty for lunch, inspired by our travels. A little bit of Chinatown, a pinch of Mulberry and Mott, a dollop of deli delish and a bissel of Bavaria.

Request for admissions, er, submissions

What is the strangest culinary concoction you’ve ever made, and have you ever eaten it in front of others? Most I’ve read about have included some indulgent item like peanut butter and/or chocolate mixed in with something savory, like vegetables.
Tonight I used both, in a sauce for lettuce wraps! Since we had no Asian fish sauce/soy sauce/teriyaki sauce for our lettuce wraps, I had to dig to the depths of the pantry to come up with a nice dipping sauce for the garlic pepper salmon/cucumber/carrot/chopped chile-lime almonds/green peppers/cabbage we stuffed in Chinese cabbage. A very healthy dish, by most accounts. I really wanted a zinger of a dipping sauce, so this is what I came up with. And it was a hit. Shhh. Just don’t tell anyone what’s in there:
• Asian garlic chile sauce, hot as hell
• white vinegar
• sugar
• ginger
• peanut butter
• a square of, get ready … Chunky chocolate/fruit/nut bar
• dried mint
• basil

Sometimes I feel like a child in the kitchen for the very first time, indiscriminate and fascinated by the different textures and colors. And sometimes this child-like fascination turns out some great, great finds. And sometimes it doesn’t. But the pride in me doesn’t allow me to toss out a failed project. I still have some wanna-be success stories in the freezer, waiting to be reincarnated as the next eat-every-day-for-a-month-because-it’s-so-good dish.
By the way, what can I do with leftover bok choi? Any suggestions? And Gary, thanks for the tip on leftover Semmelknödel! That is on our recycle list!
Recycling in the kitchen is so much fun, and I feel sorry for those who say they cannot or will not eat leftovers. Even if I had the luxury to never have to eat leftovers again, I’d do it. I paid for the food, it’s still good, others aren’t as fortunate, and I can create a new dish that doesn’t even resemble the original one. Christian’s family taught me that important lesson: either buy exactly what you need, or, use what’s left to create a new dish for the next day. Never in my time in Germany did I EVER see edible food go in the trash. NEVER. Can you claim that, as well?

Early bird special

It’s 6:15 a.m. on Monday, and it’s not yet light. The sky is purple-blue and it smells like rain. I slept like a baby last night, and we’re both getting used to the trains that run constantly by, only a block away. The apartment shakes when they go by and honk their horns at the crossing. At least 4 or 5 go by each night.

I packed our lunches to take to work, as we prefer to eat at my desk at the office to save a few bucks and to catch up on personal e-mails, job listings and news.
For me, an Amish (or Mennonite?) chia seed muffin I bought at the Las Cruces Farmer’s Market on Saturday, and an apple; for Christian, a PB&J and salad left over from last night. He’s really digging the PB&Js. It’s really so hard to find peanut butter, at least in Rohr, Germany. He was so happy when we came across candy-coated almonds at the market on Saturday. “Just like the ones they sell at Gillamoos!” He said. The almonds come in a paper cone just like the warm almonds we enjoyed in Germany, and it brought back a rush of great memories!

We still had leftover Semmelknödel from last night, and I read somewhere that you can fry leftover knödel to make some kind of pancake? Has anyone heard of this? If so, what is it served with?
Our dumplings last night were served with the traditional mushroom gravy, which was great, but I wonder if the leftover, “refried and flattened” dumpling could be served with applesauce, a la potato pancakes? Or is that the ultimate faux pas?

Sunday Semmelknödel

What do you do when you’re sort of down in the dumps? Make dumplings! Christian and I weren’t having the GREATEST day, and decided comfort food was in order. When I think comfort food these days, I am not thinking of macaroni and cheese or PB&J (although they always have a place in my heart), but mainly I’m thinking of the recipes his mom and his stepdad made for me in Rohr, Germany. Things like Milchreis with raisins, cauliflower casseroles, Weisswurst, Kartoffel ANYTHING, and Semmelknödel with mushroom sauce — which is what we’re having tonight.
This dish is really meant for a winter’s evening, to replenish the body after a day of nordic walking or skiing. But today it hit the mid-80s in El Paso, and we still wanted our bread balls
To wind down after a stressful day, first we walked alongside the Rio Grande. The gorgeous walk blissed us out and also gave us the exercise to justify an extra Knödel on the plate.