5:00 Fridays

Mac Daddy and I recently had a gastronomic orgasm at The Oxford, a new gastropub in downtown Raleigh. The panko fried avocado appetizer was ridiculously marvelous. And the funny thing is, every time we encounter someone who has eaten there, we grab ahold each other's arms, eyes wide, mouths watering, and exclaim, "Did you try the panko fried avocado?!" It is that freaking good. If it's ever 86ed from the menu, I'm not going back, even if the creme brulee was fantastic.

I enjoyed The Oxford's signature cocktail, that is perfect for the warm weather that is coming any minute now. Hear me, Mother Nature?!

Pimm's Cup, courtesy of The Oxford

Fill a cocktail glass with ice. Add 1.5 oz Pimms #1, which is a gin-based liquor from England. Only six people on the planet know the secret recipe, a concoction of gin, spices, fruit juices, and some other special ambrosia. You can buy it online here. Muddle some fresh cucumber and lemon and add it to your glass. Top with ginger ale. Garnish with a cucumber slice and a sprig of mint for color.

I'm telling you, this cocktail is perfect for a warm summer evening. The subtle hint of cucumber and lemon is the ticket to taste bud paradise. The Pimm's Cup goes down mighty easily, so go easy or go out with a teetotaler friend. Or, just call a cab.

Wordless Wednesday: And Then There Were Two

Labeled

My husband and I love food. We love growing it, cooking it, shopping for it, watching it on TV (well, watching the chefs). We travel based on what delicacies we can sample. We once drove to Quechee, Vermont just to dine at The Simon Pearce Mill. The calamari salad there has made its way into our family's culinary lore. Our children have become miniature foodies by cultural osmosis.

Our five and three year old sons accompany us to various farmer's markets, delis, gourmet grocers, and pick-your-own farms we happen upon. They join me in my multiple trips to the grocery store each week. They hear me chat about food and often gripe about the safety of our food sources. Most importantly, they see me read labels.

I talk about what our family eats. We choose our veggies based on color. In fact, last night's dinner was brought to us by the color green (green curry chicken, snap peas, kiwi slices, stir fried rice w/ peas). I explain to them why I read labels. They know it takes me forever and a day to choose ketchup because I'm looking for a brand without high fructose corn syrup (by the way, no national brand fits the bill...shame on you Heinz and Hunt's!). The boys see me reading labels and naturally ask what I'm doing. I tell them that I'm looking for foods that aren't chock full of chemicals. They already know that we eat mostly organic foods, though in this economy we've limited it to dairy, eggs, and produce. They love visiting Farmer Tom to pick up our CSA veggies. They know I'm protecting them while nourishing them.

And so my sons, ages five and three, have words like high fructose corn syrup, nitrite, MSG, trans fat, and sodium in their vernacular. We talk about how our choices affect how our food tastes, how healthy our meals are, and most importantly, the planet. Sure, we eat our share of processed packaged junk on occasion, but the kids know it's a treat. We stick to fresh foods and eat three home cooked squares a day. It's a fine plan...until my kid comments in the school cafeteria that his classmate's high School Musical Trix yogurt is "junk." Clearly I gotta work on tact, decorum, and context.

Cross posted at Foodie Mama.

Preconceptions of a Porn Star

I harbor my own stereotypes, preconceptions, misconceptions, prejudices, if you will.

So let me just say that if you are a 40-something male sporting a mustache that requires combing, a thick gold chain with a nautical knot and Italian horn, a shirt unbuttoned to your navel, exposing a shag carpet remnant, tight jeans forcing me to have impeccable eye contact, and you approach me and my boys at the playground, my inner voice is screaming porn star!

Seriously, dude, you can't come to a park looking like your resume hails from behind the purple velvet curtain at your locally owned video rental shop.