Je m'amuse

Baby Blues

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Tue, 04 Jun 2013 22:51:00 +0000

This whole dressing while pregnant thing isn't easy. Especially when there are no maternity stores on island. The idea of buying a size up sounds good in theory, but then everything just feels oversized. I'm all about showing off this little lady as she grows. This BCBG skirt still loves me, but it's one of the few things from my old wardrobe that does.

I'm learning the keys to not feeling like a large slob are exercise (thank you Physique 57 pregnancy modifications!), a good diet, accessories, heels, and refusing to give up my personal style. Hopefully those will carry me through to October and then the fabled fourth trimester (where you're no longer pregnant but according to your body you might as well be). For a brunch date with Seth and friends I tried to feel like myself by combining stripes with my snakeskin bag. I love mixing patterns. This is pretty tame but I have to work with what I've got. Most of my maternity tops are pretty ~~bleh~~ basic so far.

Look at that well-loved bag! It looks a lot more well-loved (read: worn out) in person. This poor puppy needs to be replaced something terrible, but I also need shorts that zip up all the way, so a new bag will have to wait.

BCBG stripes and bag; maternity top, from friend; shoes, Nine West (old); belt, street fair in London; baby girl starting to creep outward in the stomach region, my own creation;

Seth and I have been trying to take more time together: joint trips grocery shopping, work day lunches, weekend coffee runs. This was a Sunday Brunch with friends at Hook, Line, & Sinker in Frenchtown. These days when I go there all I want is eggs benedict, which is off limit because supposedly the runny eggs can kill baby girl. No bueno. So I've been going for their burgers, which I'd never gotten at brunch but they're fantastic. Of course I have to ask for them well done (for the same reason as the runny eggs) and I feel like a total pansy. Growing up, my Syrian family often offered raw lamb dishes at family gatherings. Straight up raw. Like no one even pretended to try and cook it. So I have a thing for raw meat. But well done it is. And I always mention that I'm pregnant when I ask for my well done burger, lest anyone think I'm a wuss.

My Pregnancy Parfait (with Homemade Granola Cereal Recipe)

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Tue, 23 Apr 2013 20:33:00 +0000

What is this treat, you ask? Why, it's my pregnancy parfait. Organic full fat yogurt, a delicious rhubarb that Seth whipped up a while back, and homemade cereal. I eat one nearly every afternoon for a snack. (I'm a total creature of habit when it comes to food, really.) Usually I dump everything into a bowl and stir it up but today I made it all pretty just for you guys. My thought was that a bowl of mush wouldn't photograph so well.

Not only do I use our homemade cereal for my afternoon snacks, but I eat it basically every morning with almond milk too. (Creature. Habit. Bam.) The original recipe can be found here and you might try making that one first. I've tweaked mine a bit to add in some more things that are good for this little creature hanging out in my womb (like adding blackstrap molasses for iron, and walnuts for the omega-3 fats). It results in a slightly heavier taste, but it's still really good. Like I said, I devour it twice a day.

Don't plan on pouring yourself a big ole' cereal bowl full of this cereal! Or if you do, don't plan on finishing it. Going from store bought cereal to something so full of whole grains, nuts, and seeds will put you in your place. You don't need nearly as much to fill you up. It took Seth a few days to remember this and by the end of his bowl he was always complaining about how full he was and how he couldn't eat anymore. I'm usually full for a few hours after 1/2 to 3/4 cup of this in the morning.

And if you want to make the parfait, don't cry and wail about not having access to Seth's rhubarb sauce. I have no idea how he makes it, but we're almost out and I plan on following it with a simple homemade jam or some pumpkin butter that needs to be used up. Or maybe just mushed up frozen berries.

Easy Homemade Cereal

(adapted from 100 Days of Real Food)

3 1/2 cups rolled oats (not quick oats)

1 cup almonds, roughly chopped

1 cup walnuts, roughly chopped

1/2 cup raw hulled sunflower seeds

1/2 cup raw pumpkin seeds

2 tsp cinnamon

1 tsp nutmeg

6 Tbsp unrefined coconut oil or unsalted butter, melted

3/8 cup honey

1/8 cup blackstrap molasses

2 tsp vanilla

1/2 tsp salt

Heat the oven to 250F. Stir dry ingredients together in a large mixing bowl. Combine coconut oil or melted butter, honey, molasses, and vanilla in a small bowl or measuring cup. Pour over dry ingredients and stir to combine. Spread out of a rimmed baking sheet and bake for 75 minutes. Allow to cool and store in an airtight container for 1-2 weeks.

A few extra thoughts: for those who know me well, you might be all like "What? Yogurt? You don't eat dairy!" I know. 'Tis true. But I'll admit that little way into my first trimester I suddenly got grossed out by the Earth Balance in our fridge and just stopped eating it. Then at the store a couple weeks later I saw the Kerrygold butter (from grassfed cows) and about fell all over myself trying to get it in my cart. I eat a little bit of the Kerrygold cheese (again, grassfed) every day too. Organic whole fat plain yogurt and organic whole fat cream cheese have also made it into my diet. I'm trying to stick as closely to real foods (whole, not processed) as possible during my pregnancy and whole fat is what I'm going with. If you're wondering, I'm actually putting on weight rather slow (a healthy slow, not a scary slow) so the added fat hasn't caused me to blow up and gain weight like crazy. I'm also exercising 2-4 times a week so far throughout the pregnancy (with approval from my doctor) so I feel like it balances out.

Boston

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Tue, 16 Apr 2013 13:22:00 +0000

Once upon a time I was blogging 2-3 times a week. And it was fun. Then I found out I was pregnant! (Pregnant!) And nothing was fun anymore. I mean, having a baby is fun. It was the weeks upon weeks of nausea, throwing up at inconvenient times, lack of appetite, needing naps at 8:30am because I was THAT TIRED. Not fun at all. Not only was I not doing anything worth writing about but the idea of sitting in front on my computer and thinking when I could be laying on the couch doing nothing was just so unappealing. But thanks for all the Facebook and text messages along the way telling me that you missed me and were wondering when I would start writing again. It was actually supposed to be yesterday evening, with a photo update of everything I've been up to the past few months. But then we accidentally broke a five gallon jug of water in the middle of the living room and the aftermath ate up all my free time.

Today is more somber, so a photo montage of all the fun things I've been up to doesn't quite feel right. We love Boston and someone hurt them. I first visited Boston as a junior from the University of Georgia to look at a potential grad school. The Big Dig was still in full swing and there was dirty snow piled up eight feet high on the sides of the roads. Some guy I met at lunch at the school asked if I wanted to hang one night. I thought it was a group thing and said sure. But no, he picked me up all alone. It was a date. But fortunately this guy I'd known for all of half an hour didn't drag me into a dark alley to kill me. He took me to a small concert in the Harvard Chapel. Then we snuck into the back of a music hall to listen to a symphony practicing. After we got caught we wandering around Cambridge all lit up at night and drank tea. And I started to fall in love with Boston, deeming it one of the few US cities I could see myself making a life in. But alas, the timing was off and I chose to take a job after school that would move me even further south to the Bahamas.

In Portland, Oregon at a training event for my new job I met another guy from Boston who was preparing for a move to Europe. A few years later we began dating across an ocean and a little while after that we found ourselves married. Seth loves Boston. So much. To the point that we have a rule about how much he's allowed to talk about how great Boston is. Because sometimes he talks about it so much I think all our friends will stop wanting to hang out with us. But I love it to. I love that we get to visit once or twice every year. When Seth (thinking of family who will want more time with this new little baby once it's born) said we might need to start doing more individual family visits with the baby, I called foul. He does not get to use our unborn child as an excuse to visit Boston twice as much without me. No fair. Not happening. I'm already excited that we'll be there this summer and again in November.

So we love you Boston. And I can't wait to see you again. And to teach our baby to love you too.

Things People Do With Horses

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Mon, 25 Feb 2013 20:44:00 +0000

I did it. This Christmas I entered the modern age of smartphones. Personally, I miss the time when I could exist with a phone that only made phone calls. Living on an island helped me exist in that world a little bit longer than I think I could in the regular universe. But at some point in the last year the regular universe found me and group texts sent from certain smartphones began being sent as data. And suddenly my PTWJAP (phone-that-was-just-a-phone) couldn't receive them. This meant I was regularly having to text my boss with super professional requests like, "Can you resend that. It didn't come through for some reason." Which is professional-ish when it happens once in a while perhaps. But sending it every two out of three texts? Okay, fine. I'll get a grownup phone with a grownup data plan. But I get a phone case that glows in the dark. That's the deal. Take it or leave it.

Here's the good news that comes with my new smartphone. Pictures. All the time. Pictures of the cheese I'm eating. Pictures of my dog doing things way cuter than other people's dogs do. Pictures of my baby nephew stolen from my sister's Facebook page. And, here's the one you'll like (unless I lost you at PTWJAP), pictures of bizarre island happenings. Previously I could only photograph them when I happened to have my camera with me and handy.

Here are three moments with horses that I could have captured for you if I'd upgraded to a smartphone earlier. Because at the time I only owned a PTWJAP, you get to experience my hand drawn illustrations of the events instead.

Click HERE to keep reading...

Once is Nice, Twice is Better!

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Tue, 05 Feb 2013 12:30:00 +0000

This label has become one of my absolute favorite surprises to find waiting for me in my mailbox. If you've been paying attention to the links on my posts sourcing my outfits, you'll have notices a lot of links to Twice. Twice is an online consignment store I discovered some many months ago. And I'm completely in love with it. Twice furthers my dollars by allowing me to purchasing well made, higher end clothing than my budget normally allows. Clothes that last longer, fit better, and give me the opportunity to stay away from lower quality brands that often won't even last through the year without fading, pilling, or unraveling. Two pairs of Current/Elliott jeans and my Free People skinny cargos have come to me from Twice. Two out of the three pairs even came with the tags still on them. Twice only buys/sells "like new" items. If I didn't know any better I would have never guessed any of them were previously owned before they came to live with me.

Jeans and cargo skinnies, all from Twice:

Increasing my love even more, Twice only resells brand name items which means I'm not falling in love with a mystery brand skirt and finding out later that it fits my body shape terribly. I already know which stores make clothes that flatter me and which don't. Twice allows me the option to only search those brands. The website also posts accurate measurements of each item. Measuring myself before I order gives me a good idea of whether or not it will fit. And if I turn out to be wrong when it finally arrives? Well, they offer free return shipping. How can you go wrong?

This pretty little J.Crew lady is on her way to my mailbox right now. I actually had some credits so she wound up being under $20. I reallllly hope she fits and I can give her a forever home!

Also on it's way to me is a resell bag. After my normal January closet purge, I pulled a few of the lesser worn items and they will be packaged up and shipped to Twice, hopefully for store credit. (The other items that aren't on their accepted brand list will be sent to La Luna's upcoming clothing swap! I went last year and it was a great event.)

So please, check out Twice! In full disclosure if you use the link I give you to sign up, I'll get a $10 credit for referring you with your first purchase. (A deal offered to all their customers.) If you hate that idea and you think I'm self promoting and a terrible friend then you can just sign up at: like twice dot com. Either way, promote them. Use them. Send them your fabulous for someone, just not fabulous for you, clothing! Make some money off that dress you thought you liked (but sadly, you don't) and get something in your closet that won't make you sad every time you look at it.

And let me know what you get! I'd love to see it!

In a Smart Closet - Lace Tees

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Wed, 30 Jan 2013 12:00:00 +0000

I'm a big fan of lace t-shirts. This one is from Urban Outfitters a few years back. To keep them from looking to precious or pretty I usually try to wear them with something more casual. (Unless I want to look precious and pretty of course.)

The graphic diamond-y flower-y detail on this one is what drew me to it in the first place. I also tried to talk Seth into buying a red leather belt that day. I thought it looked like his style and would be more fun to wear with his jeans and t-shirts than a regular brown belt. He said no. Now two years later he wishes he had said yes. So we're on the hunt for another one.

I'm pretty sure these shoes are going to leave me soon for shoe heaven. It will be a very sad day in my house. I'll probably read some poetry and maybe a Bible verse or two before I send them to their watery grave and flush them down the toilet. (Living on the side of a mountain, our yard is at an 87 degree angle so it would be hard to dig a hole and bury them in a shoe box.)

lace tee, Urban Outfitters (old, similar here); cargo skinnies, Free People (via Twice); bag, BCBG (old);
shoes, Nine West (ancient); necklace, vintage; sunglasses, RayBan;

Kitchen Curtain Re-Do

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Tue, 29 Jan 2013 16:31:00 +0000

A few weeks ago I spent half a Saturday making some DIY roman shades for the kitchen. Our originally thrown up curtains (still in existence an embarrassing three years later) were from Kmart. You know how the island is. Sometimes you just have to take what you can get. They were awful. They blended into the wall, were always dirty from rubbing up against the screen, had an amazing ability to knock over that utensil holder whenever a strong gust of wind blew in, and I'm pretty sure were going to eventually burn the house down. The right side refused to stay in the bracket. Seth eventually "fixed" it using an old ponytail holder. I know I'm not the only one to let stuff like that go on far too long but it's still embarrassing.

I've made Jenny Komenda's DIY roman shade three times now (she is a DIY genius!). While somewhat time consuming, they're very simple.

You start with simple venetian blinds. On St Thomas you can get them in the $5-10 range at Home Depot.

With scissors you carefully remove most of the plastic slats.

Add the fabric and use fabric glue to create a side hem and attach it to the remaining slats. I get all my project fabric at that little fabric and craft store down near Lionel Roberts Stadium. Do you know the one? It's on that one-way road with the bright green house with red railings on the corner (across from Jarvis School annex and the Rasta that sits there and knits all day). They have a little parking lot which is part a large part of why I love it.

While you've been doing this, hopefully you found someone handy and helpful lounging around your household willing to put up the hanging hardware during halftime. If not, do that yourself now.

And viola! (Well, let the glue dry a bit and then voila.)

I don't know what it is but I cannot get a decently lit picture in my kitchen at any time of the day. Don't know what to do to remedy that. You get the idea though. They look far better than that mess that preceded them. And I was able to make three of them (there's one more window) for around $35 dollars.

If you're interested in making these for yourself here are the full instructions on Little Green Notebook.

Fridge Door Project - Local Sorrel Drink

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Fri, 25 Jan 2013 14:45:00 +0000

It's been awhile since I've posted an addition to my fridge door project. The problem hasn't been that I haven't been making anything, it's just that I'm still tweaking some of the things I have made. If you deem the newest jar of pickles too vinegar-y then you still have to finish them before making a new batch. Or at least that's how we roll.

Fortunately for you guys (and our taste buds) this one turned out pretty darn great the first time. I'd been trying to decide how to replace the sugar-y corn syrup sweetened juices in the fridge door. There's usually a bottle of cranberry and a bottle of pink grapefruit in there. We don't often drink either straight, but we'll mix in club soda to dilute them. I don't have a juicer nor did I want to start the habit of handing over a large percentage of our grocery budget to expensive fruit. Is fruit expensive everywhere? I always feel like it's crazy expensive here. And then wandering around at the Bordeaux Fair last weekend with my go-to local sorrel drink in my hand, I was all like duuuh! So I hightailed it over to the nearest stand with a pile of the dried red flowers and started asking questions. "A pound of flowers will make about two gallons of drink." "They're five dollars per pound." "It takes about ten minutes." "You add whatever spices you want."

Sold.

Half a pound of sorrel flowers came home with me that day.

Now, as well as I've been told, sorrel is a type of hibiscus but is not the pretty hibiscus flowers you always see in pictures and around the island. It is the same "hibiscus" that is in tea and other drinks, but they fool you by putting a picture of a more familiar flower on the label. That's how it has been explained to me. Seems like it's likely true because in my ten years I've never observed anyone cooking those pretty flowers straight off the bush in their front yard.

What I love about sorrel drink is that it's heavily spiced. It's the complete opposite of all the sweet fruit juices you normally associate with the Caribbean (pineapple, guava, mango). I might continue to play around with the spices in the future, but I was pretty happy with what I decided on for my first batch. Everyone I asked at the fair said cinnamon and cloves were a must. Allspice might be good too, but I didn't try it. Google tells me ginger is a staple of the Trinidadian version. I went with a stick of cinnamon, five cloves, and four strips of orange zest.

Tear the petals off of each flower (as you see above). You don't need the seeds, only the petals. They don't dye your fingers red as I was fearful they might. Fill a pot on the stove with water and drop in the spices. Bring it to a boil. Once it's boiled, drop in the petals and turn off the heat. It quickly goes from this:

To this:

Now you just let it sit and steep. I was originally told ten minutes but it was too weak for me at that point. I wound up letting it steep for twenty minutes, heating it back to a boil, and then steeping for another ten minutes.

When you're satisfied with the taste, sweeten to your liking. Pour through a strainer and throw away the solids. Enjoy over ice! I definitely found that this tasted even better the next day but it was still great day of. Next time I may increase the amount of sorrel I put in to make it stronger and better to mix with club soda, but for now we're happily drinking it on it straight up.

Sorrel Drink

Locally on St Thomas you can buy sorrel at farmers markets and occasionally I see dried packages of them at Fruit Bowl. Elsewhere, check the international section of your grocery store. The Caribbean, Mexican, or African sections may have them dried in bags. Or you can just find them on Amazon.

The amount of sorrel you use per gallon of water is up to you. I started with 1/2lb and will probably increase it for my next batch for a stronger drink.

1/2lb-1lb sorrel flowers

1 gallon water

1 cinnamon stick

5 cloves

4 strips orange zest

sweetener of your choice (I used 3/4 c. fair trade sugar)

Pull the petals off of the flowers. Throw the seeds away. Put your spices in a pot with the water and bring to a boil. When water is boiling, turn off heat and add the sorrel petals. Cover and let stand 15 minutes. Taste and if drink is too weak, bring water to boil again, turn off heat, and allow stand another 15 minutes. Continue until flavor is to your liking. Add the sugar. Pour into a pitcher through a fine mesh strainer, discard solids, and serve over ice.

Bordeaux Cultural Fair and Farmers Market

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Wed, 23 Jan 2013 14:52:00 +0000

This weekend we headed for the loooong (island speak for "20 minute") drive out to the west side of the St Thomas for the Cultural Fair and Farmers Market in Bordeaux. The Bordeaux Farmers Market isn't your typical hipster/small farmers gathering. It's a collective of mainly Rastafarian organic farmers who, one weekend a year, go all out to celebrate and share their culture, food, produce, crafts, natural medicines/remedies. There were even several drum lesson set-ups. This event draws looooads of white people. Seriously. Tons. Ask anyone on the island that has been. I like watching all the newbies try to figure out what each food stand is selling. The stands often don't offer menus or prices and the poor first-timer Stateside transplants can't understand a word the dreadlocked guy on the other side of the counter is saying. They end up ordering a styrofoam container of food through a serious of points, grunts, and brief unsure phrases like "that orange stuff" and "a fried thing-y." And a couple trying to order a meal together and share? Forget it. Relationships have ended over less. When one half of the couple didn't understand that just because she asked for soup doesn't mean she'll get it if she wasn't there at the exact time to earthenware pot comes off the hot rocks? And her failure means the other half of the couple is stuck eating some sort of lentil substance and a grey mystery food? Not that I know what that feels like first hand. Nope. I've got it under control.

This isn't to say the food isn't good. It's delicious. Love it. This year we feasted on eggplant, barbecued tofu, potatoes, and black eyed pea fritters (peas balls). And it's good to be shaken up and tossed out of your comfort zone. The fair is a typical island environment. We waited fifteen minutes for a mysteriously absent woman to return to her stand so that I could buy a bag of spirulina, and when I did she seemed annoyed that I was bothering her. But three or four stands down I bought sorrel (the flowers, not the greens) from a woman who patiently answered all my questions about how much I needed and how to make a traditional sorrel drink (recipe to come!). It's the island. Like I said, it's nice to be out of your comfort zone.

Although the weekend fair is only held once a year, the Bordeaux Farmers Market is twice a month on the first and third Sundays. There aren't as many vendors on regular weeks but there is almost always a variety of seasonal produce, stands selling honey, eggs, and vinegars, and the pumpkin soup guy. Oooooh, the pumpkin soup guy. Don't miss him. Trust me. He alone is worth the ridiculously long twenty minute drive.

Tie Dye Jeans, Yachts, and Iced Coffee

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Sat, 19 Jan 2013 23:06:00 +0000

That's how I kicked off Saturday morning, grabbing iced coffee with Seth and some friends down in Yacht Haven and pretending to be rich and fancy. (By the way, two of our good friends are dating and her influence has started creeping into his apparel choices. He suddenly looks like a sharper and more put-together version of himself. I love when that happens to guys.)

Do you like that copper bracelet on the right? I bought it on an elementary school field trip to an indian reservation or burial ground or something. I'd say I was a downright cool fourth grader but that was around the same time I was having morning meltdowns because my mom said you couldn't wear royal blue sweatpants (of the elastic-at-the-ankles variety), matching sweatshirt, purple zebra print quilted high-tops, and four inch long chandelier earrings to school. I was told to either take off the earrings or switch the sweatpants for jeans. Obviously a tantrum inducing order. Obviously.

utility vest, Nola's Boutique; tee, American Apparel; tie dye jeans, Current/Elliott (via Twice); shoes, 80%20 (old, similar here); bag, BCBG; pearl and leather necklace, Nola's Boutique; gold necklace, gift; watch, Timex; braclets, old

So we wandered down behind Gucci to take these photos. And in case any of you guys accidentally got two Gucci Disco bags for Christmas and still have nooooo idea what to do with your extra one. (All those sleepless nights trying to figure out how to cope with two bags...) I like them. They're pretty. Problem solved.

On Where I've Been This Week...

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Fri, 18 Jan 2013 17:06:00 +0000

Last weekend I was telling a new friend blah, blah, I blog three times a week, blah. Lies. (At least if you judge me by the past week.) But I have a good excuse. We have had a rotation of house guests spinning in and out of our home. At one point the guest room, office, and living room couch all had inhabitants. Our guest list contained people of both the work colleague and the good friend variety. So while there were meetings and times of heavy discussions about the toll working internationally can take on employees, brainstorming, and future development the time was also sprinkled with rugby, a St John hike, making good food, other people doing the dishes, softball, lots of beaches, the Patriots game, and reading a book in the shade while watching Seth & Co generally act like idiots. And no blogging. Sorry 'bout that.

My Love Affair With Spray Paint

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Fri, 11 Jan 2013 14:00:00 +0000

It's bad, you guys. Somewhere along the line I learned that Rustoleum fixes everything. Ugly picture frames. Rusty mason jar lids. Hand-me-down patio furniture. Relationships. When my world is crumbling and caving in, Rustoleum is usually in the top three of things I turn to. You think I'm kidding? But oh no, joking I am not. Recently I've been having living room melt downs about the state of our coffee table. (I just cleaned it! How is it covered in crap already? What's wrong me me that I can't even keep my coffee table cleared off? How can I combat life's problems with a cluttered coffee table? It's too distracting!) Seth will hold me and let me cry for about 15 seconds, which is about all I need. Then I go on with my life.

Last month while visiting Boston we swung by IKEA. (Ok, no one swings by IKEA. We were there for a few hours and had lunch and tiny princess cakes.) In the deadly "put it all in your bag because it's only five dollars" section, I tried to convince Seth that we needed a tray to corral all the ridiculousness that ends up on our coffee table. His answer was that he'd never heard me mention wanting a tray before and too much princess cake combined with hour three of IKEA overwhelming-ness had me convinced I needed everything. But he told me if I really wanted a tray I could use the surfboard tray he picked out during wedding gift returns. The one that has now been sitting unused in a closet for seven years. (We don't surf. And even if we did I don't think we'd need to tell our friends about our new hobby via a surfboard tray. My guess is we could just tell them using our words.) Only if I can paint it and removed the surfboards, I said. And we reached an agreement.

So last weekend I drug the dusty surfboard out of it's seven year exile. I'm not even positive I'm going to keep it white. I was just so excited to organized the coffee table that I went with what I had.

And I love it. As you can see, another living room staple got an update too. Spray paint is like an addiction. Once you start spraying stuff you see all the other items that need updating. Plus it's a a pain to pull out our drop cloth so I try to get it all done at once. The only thing that kept me from painting our paper towel holder and tape dispenser was the rain that moved in. And the key to not having something look spray painted is cleaning it well before painting (no dust) and to spray several thin layers, allowing drying time in between. Don't try to get it all covered on the first or second go round because then you get drips.

And the tray is doing a great job, pullings it's weight as a member of this family by containing the coasters, candles, books, and electronics that usually get tossed haphazardly all over the table. Seth wondered aloud if the people who gave that chip and dip bowl to my parents as a wedding gift back in the 70s ever imagined it might be used as a cell phone and tiny digital musical device holder. Probably not. Unless they watched a lot of sci-fi movies.

Now, go forth and spray paint. The weekend awaits you. You'll be surprised how exhilarating it is. Nothing says empowerment like deciding the generic box store paper towel holder should be red, and making it so.

A Jeans and Tee Alternative - Stripes, Cargos, and Jelly Shoes

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Wed, 09 Jan 2013 04:09:00 +0000

One outfit to take me through two coffee meetings in Frenchtown and Yacht Haven, a quick grocery/post office trip, re-organizing my home office, and dinner with friends in the evening. That's what a recent day called for. I really wasn't in the mood to change clothes three times. What's a girl to do? This:

sweater, H&M (oooold, like London two years ago old); cargo skinnies, Free People (via Twice, similar here); sunglasses, Ray Ban; bag, BCBG (old); jelly shoes, thrifted; watch, Timex; necklace, RJ Graziano (from St Thomas Humane Society Boutique); bracelet, vintage;

A great alternative on a day when jeans and a t-shirt wasn't appealing. It was on and off rainy as well. Here was the thought process behind what I threw on that morning. Sunglasses in a classic shape. I grabbed my wayfarers here. Stripes work with basically anything and as a lightweight sweater they can look more put together than just a plain tee.

Easy vintage jewelry I could just throw on. I was in such a rush I forgot to grab my earrings.

Having a pair of neutral non-jeans I can grab fast helps me dress and and go on mornings that I'm not feeling jeans or tailored pants. My skinny cargos have been a go-to jeans alternative lately. I've also got a pair of grey tie-dye jeans that I've been loving but they were in the laundry hamper. It's about time to replace this purse, yes? I'm keeping my eye open for another snakeskin print tote. This one was linen from BCBG two summers ago. I've used it far more frequently than I thought I would. I think I'll retire it to beach bag status when I find model 2.0.

And jellies. Oh, my jelly shoes. How I love them.

Jellies are my new favorite obsession. I first re-remembered them when I saw a pile of shoe boxes covered in dust a few months ago at our St Thomas Cash and Carry out at Four Winds. (I think I was there to get a fish bowl and a rug. Or maybe an apple peeler and a table shaped like bananas. You can get it all at Cash and Carry. And they take credit cards. Go figure.) This pile of shoe boxes held grown-up sized jellies that looked left over from 1984, judging by the layer of dust on the shoes. They were uncomfortable and not well made (designs were badly cut out and also discolored) but my little-girl-me shoe of choice has been on my mind ever since. When I found a brand new pair at a thrift store in Boston last month I snatched them up. $3.99? Um, yep!

I did a quick online search to hopefully provide you with a few pairs. Apparently jellies are only carried by our island Cash and Carry and designers. Crazy. Not sure what happened to the cheap drug store variety of my childhood. But if you're in the mood for some $100+ jellies, my favorites are here, here, and here.

Hopefully the trickle down effect will happen and jellies will soon be readily available at a Target or gas station near you!

2013, I'll Be There In A Sec

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Tue, 08 Jan 2013 04:38:00 +0000

Our feet have been firmly planted on St Thomas soil for about a week, but as you can see by the picture above I'm still hanging on to winter. The morning after a snow we drove into Boston to meet someone. A 30 minute drive through that snowy serenity. And then a five minute frustrated shout session in the car because I typed our destination address into my phone incorrectly and had Seth driving in circles around Cambridge. Gotta keep if real here. We've all been there. It's cool.

So as I try and hang on to our wintery December, 2013 is currently storming onward. I never thought I was a resolution girl. I used to pride myself on saying I didn't make resolutions but I don't think that's true anymore. A few Januaries ago I said no more flip-flops and it stuck. Another January I committed to wear more red lipstick during both day and night. Now it's a common addition. So I guess resolutions aren't the worst.

So 2013, here's what we'll try to do together:

1. Burn more candles. Good ones. I want a home that smells warm and inviting, even when I'm the only one home.
2. Learn to sew. When I was about eight I got a Girl Scout badge for it. To earn it I sewed a white vest and then puff painted flowers and butterflies all over it. I want to do more of that.
3. Continue developing this space. I'm having fun here. I love sharing the things I enjoy with those out there interested enough to read about them. Being featured on Lucky Magazine's site this week was fun affirmation that just doing things I love is enough to inspire others. I'm hoping for more of that.

That's it. I feel like a short list is best. Accomplishable. I'm sure I'll add things along the way. A couple months ago I started playing the guitar. That wasn't something I would have foreseen in January 2012, but it happened. And all the eat right, work out more, read more books, watch less tv, yada yada. Those aren't resolutions. Those are necessities for a healthy life and I'm always striving to improve in those areas.

What about you? Any great resolutions you've made this year or in a past year?

I Pity the Fool (Who Doesn't Own Oversized Gold Chains)

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Sun, 06 Jan 2013 03:14:00 +0000

Seriously. They're the shiz-nit. The woman sitting next to me on the flight back to St. Thomas said, "That's a really large necklace. What's the story with that?" I told her it didn't have a story and I was just wearing it because it was awesome. She seemed to find that an acceptable answer to her question.

sweater, EcoSkin; jeans, Current/Elliott (via Twice); sunglasses, RayBan Wayfarers; shoes, 80%20 Tessa Boots (sold out, similar here or same boots but in floral pattern here); necklace, artisan (from Peabody/Essex Museum)

cotton/cashmere sweater, J.Crew Crewcuts; jeans, Current/Elliott (same as above); shoes, (same as above); bag, BCBG (old); necklace, vintage; earrings, vintage;

I have two large gold chains. One is just large. One is obese American super-sized. Both of them make simple outfits feel a little more dressed up.

My large gold chain is choker-style. It's Napier from the '40s found at the SoWa Vintage Market in Boston last May. (The earrings are from a vintage store in Savannah where I also scored a Max Mara plaid blazer.) We went to the SoWa Market again this visit and I even revisited my favorite table but I didn't have the same luck.

My obese American super-sized gold chain is from the Peabody/Essex Museum in Salem, Massachusetts. Their gift shop has an amazing jewelry section. I rarely buy jewelry that's not vintage but it was love at first sight when I laid eyes on this chunky lady. It was a not-so-surprise Christmas gift from Seth's family.

You know what else was obese American super-sized? Our feast of fresh fried clams and homemade clam chowder from Woodman's. We only eat there once every few years and I don't regret a bite of it.

Okay, now for real. Go find you a chunky gold necklace. Or eat some fried clams. Or both.

A few other gold chain finds here, here, and here.

Chick(adee)s Dig Menswear Inspired Outfits

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Fri, 28 Dec 2012 12:30:00 +0000

This is me. Feeding a wild chickadee out of my hand. It was super-duper.

We drove out to the Audubon Sanctuary in Topsfield the day after Christmas. My sister-in-law's birthday request was to feed wild chickadees out of her bare hands. And so we did. We hiked out to a pretty little bridge and stood still with birdseed in our palms. Bird after bird landed and nibbled for about an hour. Until we couldn't feel our fingers or noses anymore. It was cold.

I'd never been out to the Ipswich River sanctuary before. Seth said the birds will only eat from your hands in the winter when food in scarce. In summer food is plentiful so they keep their distance.

After being bird-whispering Disney princesses and freezing our tidbits off in the cold weather for a few hours, we warmed up our insides with coffee and paninis at Pleasant Street Tea Company in Gloucester.

I wore my new-to-me Bruno Magli shoes.

I got them for four bucks at the St Thomas Humane Society Boutique last month. A quick google search told me they needed some tender love and care in the form of brown cream shoe polish and that they're the same brand of shoes O.J. wore when he killed Nicole. Or, I mean, when he didn't kill her. That's how it turned out isn't it? I guess the world will never really know. Rabbit trail: my great aunt watched the Simpson murder trial on tv every single day for months. Also, O.J.'s cameo in Roots is one of my top five unexpected cameos of all time. End of rabbit trail.

Shoe polish before and after below:

shirt, Brooks Brothers (old, similar here); jeans, Guess (old, La Luna clothing swap); coat, Max Mara (from here); shoes, Bruno Magli; bag, BCBG (old); scarf (stolen from Seth); hat, gift from friend; earrings, vintage;

Pre-Christmas Weekend Highlights

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Mon, 24 Dec 2012 15:40:00 +0000

Our weekend was spent with fireplaces, good wine, a good friend on Boston's South Shore, single malt, Christmas shopping along Main Street in Hingham, eating cheese from Bloomy Rind, figuring out my new flickr app, and I caught the Hats exhibit in the Peabody/Essex Museum in Salem. A great start to the long Christmas weekend. Tonight is a candlelight service at Seth's family church and dinner with friends. Christmas is coffee, breakfast, gifts, dinner in Lexington, and a skype date with my family and my happy little nephew.

Have a very merry Christmas and I hope you make some cozy memories with friends and family!

Agawam Diner

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Fri, 21 Dec 2012 12:30:00 +0000

"Do I look like a Backstreet Boy?"

"No, I think you look more French than 90s boy band."

"Ok, thanks."

sweater, EcoSkin; puffy vest, Land's End (old, similar here); jeans, Guess (from La Luna clothing swap); hat, gift from friend; shoes, Bruno Magli (from St Thomas Humane Society Boutique); sunglasses, Ray-Ban; bag, BCBG (old);

File that under the category of ridiculous exchanges we have while rushing out of the house. But fortunately rush out of the house we did. To Agawam Diner, near Ipswich. It's a local diner from the 1940s. Super cute and kitschy. Not because they're trying to be cute and kitschy but because they've taken pretty immaculate care of their 70+ year old establishment. The waitresses are friendly, your coffee cup stays full, and the breakfast is stick-to-your-ribs good. It's the only place I allow myself corned beef hash, because it's worth it. A great place to spend the morning catching up with an old friend.

I finally got to wear a hat I've been hoarding in my closet for a couple years. My friend Chrisann in the BVI got it on a misorder and didn't want to deal with the hassle of sending it back. To me it went! And I've been waiting for a winter opportunity to wear it ever since. My sweater is from EcoSkin, a new-to-me company that makes organic apparel in the USA. I grabbed it off the sale rack in a tent at the SOWA Sunday Market last May. It's light-weight enough that I can wear it on St Thomas evenings but can layer it for our winter trips. And it's good for the environment. And contributes to the US economy. Score.

Seth picked up some accessories of his own on our way home from the diner.

Some poinsettia's for his mom because he noticed she didn't have any around the house yet this Christmas. Isn't he sweet?

Hope you guys all have a wonderful extended Christmas weekend! We'll be driving down to the South Shore (if it's not one shore, it's another) to see a friend and possibly taking in some of the Christmas mall craziness, just for fun of it.

(P.S. Seth insisted I choose the first picture where I was all scrunched up against a particularly cold gust of wind. And since he humors me and takes all these photos of me for the blog, I figure he should get to choose photos sometimes too. So if you were wondering why I had no neck in the first photo, now you know.)

How to Not Look Like a Weirdo When You Travel

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Thu, 20 Dec 2012 15:00:00 +0000

When I travel I always run into the same issue: how do I dress like myself without looking like a total freak? Disappearing into the fashion of whatever part of the world I'm visiting always makes me feel like I'm losing myself. Unsatisfying. Not acknowledging the fashion differences at all makes me self-concious, like I'm completely clueless to my new surroundings and might as well have just stayed home. Instead, I like the challenge of incorporating a local style into my own and seeing what happens. It's been raining, not snowing, for about two days now up on Boston's North Shore. After a lazy morning at home, Seth and I needed to venture out to run some errands. The gray-ness seemed like the perfect excuse to finally break out my new fishermans sweater.

Seeing as I'm not normally the New England coast sweater type, how do I make it look like me and not just me playing dress up? The formula I've put together over many years of traveling is this:

Bring in classic pieces from the place you're visiting...

And add some very "you" pieces to mix...

What you get is a style uniquely your own. You don't blend in. You don't look clueless. You look very very you. I mixed some functional New England staples (fishermans sweater, puffy vest, knit hat) with some fun pieces of my own (tie-dye jeans, chunky black heels, ray-bans) and got an outfit that made me feel like a happy New England me.

fishermans sweater, J.Crew Crewcuts; puffy vest, Land's End (old, similar here); tie-dye jeans, Current/Elliot (via Twice); hat, old; shoes, Vince Camuto (free at clothing swap); bag, BCBG (old); sunglasses, Ray-Ban;

And don't you worry your little head. When we stopped to grab these pictures and admire the fog on the water, we obeyed the rules and did not park in the no parking area.

Or in the shellfish warden's special spot.

Oh North Shore, you're so great.

My New Old Coat - Tailors Are Your Friends

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Wed, 19 Dec 2012 12:30:00 +0000

About a year ago we were hanging out with some good friends at a beach house they had scored for the weekend on Puerto Rico. While lounging around in the living room waiting for rain to pass, one of the guys asked me if he could buy me any one thing in the world, what would I ask for. And I answered a Max Mara cashmere coat. Because I find them beautiful. And useful. And something I can pass on to daughters one day. And I'm never going to drop $2000 to own one.

Fast forward to this summer when I found a vintage Max Mara for under $40. And if that wasn't amazing enough, it was a cocoon coat. (I have a slight obsession with the retro look of cocoon coats.) Unfortunately, this one was more than a smidge too big but also inexpensive enough that I figured I could resell it if I needed to. Or pass it along to a very lucky friend. So the beautiful cashmere Max Mara cocoon coat came home to live with me. And I loved it. And petted it. And hung it on a hook on the wall just to admire it. And I hoped that one day I could wear it without it swallowing me whole and dragging the ground as I walked.

Enter Brooks, a St Thomas friend and tailor that Seth uses to hem his pants and sew buttons onto his tux. (He believes that normal people like me should not be sewing anything onto his tux.) I took the coat to her, not sure what to hope for. Gave her a my list of perfect coat desires: shorter length, bracelet sleeves, no cuffs, slimmer in the torso and arms, still maintaining a slightly oversized fit. She said yes. Cited a very reasonable price. And a week later I had it back in my arms.

All together it cost far less than a good department store coat would have, which was my plan from the beginning because I only need a coat for a few weeks of the year. (But when I do, I need a good warm coat.) I know I'm fortunate that this story turned out to have a happy ending. Sometimes wool coats can be very expensive to tailor. Brooks ended up charging me even less than her original estimate because the coat was so well-made and the fabric so nice that it was simpler than she had anticipated. She also gave me all the extra fabric from the bottom. I've got a couple ideas of how to use it (an extra piece that converts it into a knee-length coat similar to this, or maybe a cashmere stole) but didn't have time to have her do anything else before we left for Christmas in New England.

Where I've been wearing it like crazy. To church with Seth's family. Meeting a friend out to catch the Patriot's game. Or here for a quick walk in Magnolia before spending the afternoon watching snow flurries.

collared french cuff shirt, Brooks Brothers (old, similar here, wear it forever!); sweatshirt inspired sweater, J.Crew Crewcuts (currently on sale!); pants, Gap (old, similar here); scarf, Target (old); beret, old; shoes, Vince Camuto (free at a clothing swap); bag, BCBG (old)

If you're on St Thomas and want to see what Brooks can do to freshen up some items from your closet, please send her an email at brooksleann@yahoo.com. Feel free to tell her that you found her via Je'mamuse!

Thursday Date Night - Dinner at the Ritz

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Mon, 17 Dec 2012 12:30:00 +0000

Back in April, we were given a gift certificate for dinner at Bleuwater at the St Thomas Ritz-Carlton. (Remember when we used our other one here?) We opted to hold onto it until our anniversary in September. Silly us. All the good places are closed in September for the off-season. (We forget that every. single. year.) So we pushed our anniversary dinner back to October. But Bleuwater remained closed for renovations. Last week we were finally able to use it. We scooted in right before the gift certificate expired and before we jetted off to the States for the holidays. And yum.

Yum. Yum. Yum.

But what do you expect? It's the Ritz.

The night out also gave me a chance to wear a vintage top I just picked up at the St Thomas Humane Society Boutique for six buckeroos. Silk on the inside, sparkle on the outside. Maybe it's not every girl who wants a bashful zebra peaking out from behind squiggly red and silver stripes on her shirt, but I'm going pretty nuts for it.

Sequin Top, St Thomas Humane Society Boutique; Cargo Skinnies, Free People (via Twice); Sunglasses, Gucci (old); Clutch, my grandmother's; Rafia Heels, Boutique 9 (old, similar here and here); Earrings, made by a friend;

And just to make sure you know I got my six bucks' worth...

...the sequins continue to the back. None of this sequins-in-the-front-tshirt-in-the-back business that retailers keep trying to pull off these days. And yes, I wore my skinny cargos to fancy Bleuwater. Because I was also covered in sequins. And my heels were about five inches. And all those rich tourist men eat their $48 entrees in their Tommy Bahamas shirts and Rainbows because they're on vacation. So I can wear my skinny cargos if I want to.

The scenery at the Ritz is so beautiful. It's not everyday that I get a view like this when exiting the bathroom:

Oh wait, yes it is. Lucky me. He tolerates my zebra sequins and looks good while doing it. Reason #432 why he is pretty darn fantastic.

Spiced Rum

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Fri, 14 Dec 2012 12:30:00 +0000

I always try to make something yummy for good friends around Christmas. A few years ago it was peppermint marshmallows. Last year it was cinnamon buns. This year Seth and I tried our hand at homemade spiced rum. It was a grand experiment. We figured if we're living in a place where we can buy a handle of yummy local St Croix rum for less that $11, why would we not? How did it take us so long to come up with this idea?

We did it together on one of our Thursday date nights. Our hope is to keep tweaking the recipe and make a secret Rogati spiced rum. You know, the kind where friends and family are all "I hope I get a bottle of the special Rogati rum this December. I look forward to it all year long!" But for this first year we stuck with the Serious Eats recommendations: vanilla bean, orange zest, ginger, cloves, cinnamon, star anise, allspice, nutmeg and pepper. Almost all stuff we already had at home. Seemed like a safe way to get started.

I was actually kind of bummed to empty the bottle into individual gift bottles when it was done steeping. So pretty.

St. John - Cafe Roma

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Wed, 12 Dec 2012 12:30:00 +0000

After a rough Friday a couple weeks ago, Seth and I decided to pretend we were leaving St Thomas forever and took the ferry over to St John for dinner. (Don't act like none of you other St. Thomians have never done the same thing.) We hadn't been to Cafe Roma in years and Italian sounded good. Seth goes a little bonkers for their veal. And John Heibert, the owner and chef, walked around a bit during the meal to chat with patrons and inquire about their meals. I love when chefs do that.

Tables by the second story window are pretty perfect because you can watch friends walk by on the street below and send them creepy "I'm watching you" texts. Or at least that's what we did. I was also excited to see Penfold's Koonunga Hill on the wine list. The wine is a part of (Project)Red. A portion of the proceeds go to help combat AIDS in Africa. After learning about the collaboration last year I'd been searching for it on St Thomas with no luck. It must have been hiding at Cafe Roma the whole time.

The night out also gave me a chance to wear my new handwoven scarf from Karama. It was lightweight and perfect for the ferry ride. (Get you one!) Seth was a good sport and let me drag him around Cruz Bay after dinner trying to find someplace uncrowded and well-lit to get a picture of it. We finally found an empty porch at Mongoose Junction. Then I went and waited in line for the bathroom behind a bride. She hadn't peed since 2pm. And didn't mind sharing that information with a stranger. Cruz Bay. Always fun.

Scarf, Karama Gifts; Blouse, Nola's Boutique; Cargo Skinnies, Free People (via Twice); Sandals, Antia (old); Bag, gift from friend; Earrings, gift from mom; Bracelets, Barefoot Buddha, Nola's Boutique, and vintage (like "got it on a field trip when I was a little kid" vintage)

Vegas, Baby

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Mon, 10 Dec 2012 12:30:00 +0000

December on St Thomas means Vegas Night! This is an annual fundraiser that supports one of the local private schools. Its gives Seth and some of his buddies a chance to break out their tuxes. All the ladies make sure every last rhinestone, sequin, and feather on this little island is in attendance. (Some of the ladies should maybe invite a few extra feathers and sequins to help cover their who-whos next year...)

I am so glad I invested in a sequin pencil skirt last year after it went on post-New Year's Eve sale. It gave me something to wear when Seth and I made the night-before decision to attend Vegas Night this year. Then I spent 24 hours going more than a little crazy over what top to wear with it. I did not want to spend any money on a new one and I finally made a game time decision to wear a dress backwards as a ruffly blouse. (Usually it has a boatneck neckline and the ruffles are on the back.) Creative solutions are the best!

dress as blouse, Tucker for Target (old); skirt, Asos (old, similar); shoes, Carlos by Carlos Santana (super duper old); bag, Big Buddha (old); earrings, Swarovski (gift, similar); necklace, vintage Napier (similar)

Normally I get home from these events and wonder why no one told me my hair morphed into a humidity-induced disaster over the course of the evening. To avoid that frustration, this year I teased up the crown to give myself a retro ponytail. Then I hair sprayed the bejeebus out of it. I shellacked it so well that it stayed nearly perfect even after sleeping on it. So the next morning I just twisted the pony up into a bun and secured with bobby pins. It got me through the following (rainy) day, including a mid-morning brunch with friends in Charlotte Amalie and an afternoon holiday party.

shirt, Brooks Brothers (similar on sale); skirt, Express (old); shoes, J.Crew (found brand new at La Luna clothing swap); bag, BCBG (old); earrings, vintage; neacklace, vintage Napier; sunglasses, RayBan; umbrella, Totes (similar);

Not bad. I should pull out the hair spray more than twice a year...

I also should suggest somewhere other than Gladys' for brunch. Haven't been in awhile but they didn't have breakfast on the menu anymore, which we didn't realized until after we'd ordered drinks. Trapped. So I had to eat a mahi sandwich at 11am on a Sunday. Not ideal. But anything that causes a weekend stroll down Drake's Passage is ideal. So I guess it all evened out in the end.

Potato Pizza

noreply@blogger.com (Je m'amuse) — Fri, 07 Dec 2012 12:30:00 +0000

Awhile back I read a about potato pizza out on the interwebs. I'm one of those people that accepts almost anything on flat bread and thinks it's pizza. Seth is of the variety that red sauce and cheese make a pizza. But potatoes? And bread? Together? How could this starch-fest not be amazing. So I finally got around to making it last week.

I started with making a batch of my foolproof pizza dough. The same time I made that I used my fancy-pants mandolin (thank you Discover points!) to slice up three potatoes on the 1/8 inch setting. After referring to about 82 recipes to get my bearings, I threw the potatoes into an icy salt water brine and let them soak for the 1 1/2 hours that the pizza dough was rising. Then I stretched the dough out on sheet pan and layered the potatoes on top.

Sprinkle on chopped onion and rosemary, spritz with olive oil, and voila!

Now, we usually grill our pizzas. Jacking our oven up to 500F in our tiny open-air Caribbean kitchen makes for a very unhappy, sweaty, "I swear I'm never cooking again" Melissa. But we can crank the grill up to the same temp on the back porch and continue living a happy life. So why not go that same route for potato pizza? It's looks fabulous and golden brown right?

Well, let me tell you why not. Because in an oven the pizza would go on the middle or top rack. But on the grill it is directly above the heat. So after you cook it the full 30 minutes to fully cook the potatoes (most pizzas are on there for only 10-12 minutes) you get all excited. You're salivating. It smells delicious. You can almost taste it.

And then you cut it. And it's sort of extra crunchy. And you lift it out onto the plate. And this is what was going on under that golden potato top:

Awesome. So here you are at 9pm with nothing to eat. Nothing! And you go sit down on the couch with a glass of wine and pretend you're not even hungry and you never heard of potato pizza and, I mean, who really needs dinner anyway? But then if you're a lucky girl like me, Seth gives you a hug and silently starts sawing the toppings off of the black cement crust. Piece by piece.

Until you both have a plate of sliced grilled potatoes with some crusty parts to go with your wine. Glorious. They were good.

Then a week later you find the time to rally. You try again. This time you tweak it and use red onion (not shallots) and fresh rosemary (not dried) from the plant you just bought that will likely die when you leave to spend Christmas with family. You pick a cool evening (I mean, it's got to be, what, 83 degrees?) so that you can crank that oven up to 500F and you put the pizza on the middle rack. You even use only 2/3 of the pizza dough for a thinner crust, leaving you with a ball of pizza dough in the freezer for another day. And you braise some brussels sprouts.

Yes.

Potato Pizza

1 recipe of my pizza dough
3 medium potatoes, sliced evenly into 1/8" slices or thinner
1/4 c. diced red onion
2 Tbsp. minced fresh rosemary
1/4 c. kosher salt
olive oil

Make the pizza dough and slice the potatoes at the same time. While the dough is rising, brine the sliced potatoes in a salt water bath for 1 1/2-2 hours. (I use about 1/4 c. kosher salt in a large mixing bowl of ice water for the brine.)

Heat the oven to 500F. After the dough has risen, spread 2/3 of the pizza crust out on an oiled sheet pan with raised edges (mine was 12'x21"). You can wrap the remaining 1/3 of the pizza dough tightly in saran wrap and keep in the freezer or fridge for a small pizza later. The dough should spread into a thin layer. Spritz it with olive oil. Drain the potatoes in a colander and press out the excess water. They should be limp and squeezable. Blot them dry with a paper towel and layer then thinly on the crust. Sprinkle with the onion and rosemary. Drizzle olive oil over the top. Bake on the middle rack for 30 minutes until the potatoes are golden brown. Check halfway through cooking and move to the top rack if you think the bottom of the crust is getting too much heat. Sprinkle with salt and cut into squares. Makes 4-6 servings.