everyday musings

hilton head.

2012-02-08T07:37:00.001-05:00

Last weekend, we went on a spur-of-the-moment camping trip to Hilton Head Island.

Turns out camping just meant sleeping outside, as we were at a gorgeous house that had giant wrap-around porches and a dock overlooking the marsh, twenty feet in the air.

We ate s'mores and cloud-gazed, drove around the dark woods in a topless jeep and fell asleep on the dock with down comforters. Maybe more my style of camping, anyway.

the garden summer.

2012-02-07T10:00:00.001-05:00

Hailey's documentary, The Garden Summer, is officially premiering at the rad American Theater on February 22. There will be farm cocktails in ball jars and lots of giddy, wonderful people. Purchase tickets here (seats are limited!) and learn more about the film here.

*Photos from our road trip to the farm last spring.

scrambled farm egg & stone crab tartine.

2012-02-07T08:03:00.000-05:00

We spent a day last week shooting Chef Lata's Scrambled Farm Egg and Stone Crab Tartine. So! Many! Colors!

Tartines remind me of Dordogne, where Lucien would ask for a tartine each morning, with almond butter and jam. It was his favorite, the go-to food to give him when he refused to eat anything else.

This dish is Chef's take on breakfast in the lowcountry, and with local seafood, beautiful vegetables and perfectly-scrambled eggs, this is breakfast at its best.

waking up in a car and running through the woods to see the pink sunrise.

2012-02-06T08:03:00.000-05:00

What weekends should always be about.

breakfast at the beach.

2012-02-03T08:08:00.000-05:00

One morning last week, we had a picnic at the beach before work.

There was food: eggs, salmon, berries, and banana bread. There was a teeny tiny glimpse of the pink sunrise.

There was a massive storm that rolled in and then caught us. We had to pack up and run, soaked to the bone. I smiled to myself about it the rest of the day.

new job.

2012-02-02T08:02:00.000-05:00

Two weeks into my new job, I'm as excited about it as I was on the first day.

My official title is Executive Assistant to Chef Mike Lata, a man I've admired since the moment (maybe before?) I moved to Charleston. Aside from being executive chef and part owner of FIG restaurant, he's a total class act - James Beard Award Winner, Iron Chef contestant, writer, entrepreneur, father-to-be, and on and on.

With one already-stellar restaurant and another amazing one underway, I cant wait to see what this year brings. Every day of this job is different and I love it.

*See what's going on at FIG on Facebook. Also, above photos are from brunch at Larder, not FIG.

french toast & mimosas in the sun.

2012-02-01T08:40:00.000-05:00

A Sunday well spent.

a fire in the woods.

2012-01-31T07:14:00.000-05:00

As we were exploring Edisto Island, we came across a (controlled) fire at sunset.

The woods looked so pretty all lit-up that we couldn't help but turn the car around and admire*, until a man on a tractor may or may not have spotted us and we scurried off.

*from a safe distance, Dad

january.

2012-01-30T08:17:00.001-05:00

As France feels farther and farther away, certain songs make me weepy and still, all I ever want to eat is bread and cheese. Sometimes I start dreaming about those three months and I end up feeling paralyzed by how much I miss it.

That said, if I'm not going to be in France, I'm glad I can be in warm, sunny Charleston -- where oyster-eating and day trips to remote islands are totally normal January activities. No winter blues here.

a night at the grocery.

2012-01-27T06:36:00.001-05:00

The fundamental problem with Charleston is that it's impossible to stay in, ever. There's always a new restaurant to try, friends to see, or some 70 degree January weather to soak up.

Earlier this week we found ourselves at a new spot, The Grocery, for drinks, snacks (excluding Martin who ordered a steak), and churros (which fondly reminded me of my recent, solo, birthday in Spain). Spontaneous, unplanned weeknights always turn out to be the fun ones anyway. Case in point.

sunset with katie.

2012-01-26T07:27:00.001-05:00

While on a solo walk along the battery last night, I serendipitously ran into one of my dearest friends Katie, who happened to be soaking up her last sunset in Charleston before moving to Brooklyn.

I planned on seeing her later for tacos anyway, but I was so happy to run into her at this moment. She was completely in it -- blasting music from her car and watching white sailboats pass as the sun disappeared into the still-as-glass water.

Katie is the kind of person you always find yourself on an adventure with. She is adored by everyone, and rightfully so; she's one of the most magnetic people I've ever met. And although I'm selfishly sad, I'm excited for all the New Yorkers whose lives are about to get much, much brighter.

P.S. More Katie: floating the river, at brunch, strolling down King Street, porch sittin', and with choocovine.

larder.

2012-01-25T07:15:00.001-05:00

Last weekend when I found out the good news, we promptly decided to celebrate with mimosas (and brunch) at Two Boroughs Larder. It was such a treat that my family was in town to join in on the celebration and give us that extra push we needed to order the triple chocolate salted cookie with espresso ice cream.

simple arugula salad.

2012-01-24T07:43:00.000-05:00

I love arugula so much that most days, I'm perfectly happy eating it with just a little lemon juice and some flavorful olive oil.

For days when I want something more exciting, arugula with oranges, pomegranate seeds, and creamy blue cheese (plus lemon and olive oil) makes for a killer combination.

first day.

2012-01-23T08:24:00.001-05:00

Today is the first day of my new job, my dream job, that I feel so fortunate to have and so excited to begin. I mentioned my love for new beginnings and according to the butterflies in my stomach (the good kind), I think this is going to be really great.

breakfast at bull street.

2012-01-20T08:07:00.000-05:00

A couple nights ago -- a quiet night that was meant to begin and end with Bin 152 -- some friends and I spontaneously decided to have a staycation. The MSNBC show Morning Joe was being filmed super early the next morning at the Mills House Hotel and we decided if there was an available room, we'd all (six) split it. Turns out they did, so we went for it.

Staying at a hotel in your own city feels weirdly exciting, and seeing the show the next morning made the four hours of sleep worth it. They showed repeated closeups of Martin, and Mika Brzezinski was as cool (and pretty) as I always thought.

Afterwards, we raced to Bull Street Gourmet for breakfast. In short, I am crazy about this place. Not only is the space beautiful with its big windows and Edison light bulbs, the food is phenomenal. I finished every bite of my smoked salmon hash (with two poached eggs) and kind of wanted more. They also have lunch, dinner, and incredible coffee drinks. It's a winner for sure.

P.S. They sell duck fat if you want to make some life-changing fries.

brunswick to baja.

2012-01-19T09:34:00.000-05:00

Come May, my friend Ben is going to ride his bicycle from New Brunswick (north of Maine) to the Baja peninsula (south of California) to raise money for Sidewalk Chalk. He's one of the best people (and photographers) around and I couldn't be more excited to follow along with his adventures. (I have a feeling there will be some breathtaking photo-ops along the way.) Find out more here.

More Ben here, here, here, here, here, and his professional website here.

bin 152.

2012-01-18T09:54:00.000-05:00

A year and a half later, Bin 152 is still my favorite spot in the city.

The best wine and cheese, beadboard walls, Francophiles, big windows that look out to quiet lower King Street, mismatched antique furniture, and sweet owners who have lived all over the world and give the best life advice. Be still my heart.

Recent loves: a crisp Loire Valley white wine and the smoothest, creamiest Saint Marcellin cheese.

daydreams & oatmeal.

2012-01-17T09:52:00.002-05:00

What I love most about food is its ability to evoke such nostalgia; tastes and flavors and smells that have the ability to transport you to a specific time and place in the past.

Oatmeal takes me to Dordogne, where I woke up every morning to Lucien's loud laughter, Elizabeth's hushed tones, and oatmeal covered on the stove.

We ate it every morning, unsweetened with a spoonful of peanut butter. At first it tasted plain, but I quickly began to crave the simplicity of it. I'd eat as I looked out the window to a green field scattered with wildflowers. I'd think about the day to come; river-swimming, fruit harvests, blackberry-picking, maybe a long walk or two.

My time in Dordogne with Lucien, Elizabeth and Kevin was so special -- life-changing in retrospect -- that it feels important to honor it and them. Even if it's just for a quick second in the morning as I eat my bowl of oatmeal.

weekend.

2012-01-16T09:52:00.000-05:00

My family was in town for the weekend, pretending to help me get settled in my new apartment but mostly just enjoying a culinary tour of Charleston as usual. It was the kind of weekend where we ate a cinnamon roll (instead of a sticky bun) before brunch. Lots of walking, long breakfasts, coffee breaks, mimosas, and three-hour-long dinners. I love being around them so much, saying goodbye never gets easier.

new home.

2012-01-13T07:48:00.001-05:00

The best thing about my new home is the people who have been filling it. It feels good to have a place to host them again.

Team effort around-the-world dinners (homemade sushi, burritos and pizza) and dance party/rap battles are only the beginning of what makes these nights so great. Acting like a grown-up is overrated.

skirt! magazine.

2012-01-12T07:52:00.000-05:00

I'm super excited about a new collaboration I'm starting this year with Charleston's Skirt! Magazine, where I'll be contributing words and photos about little things that make each month here special. If you're in town check it out (on page 24) or see it online here.

sunday brunch.

2012-01-11T07:38:00.001-05:00

Sometimes, Sundays are dedicated to long meditative walks and peaceful alone time. Sometimes they're used as a refresher, a down day to compose oneself before the start of the week. But sometimes, Sundays are dedicated to seven-hour brunches, being outside all day, and celebrating the birth of Beyonce's baby. Just because.

P.S. Notice the sticky bun being passed around in the third photo.

sticky bun sunday.

2012-01-10T10:17:00.000-05:00

This weekend I experienced Wildflour's Sticky Bun Sunday for the first time, and can say with full confidence that these sticky buns I've been hearing about for years are truly life-changing.

From the perfectly-spiced pecans to the cream cheese icing piled on top, these sticky buns are the real deal. Although I vowed to never make homemade cinnamon rolls again after my last disastrously messy (but still, insanely delicious) attempt, but I think these have inspired me to change my tune.

week one.

2012-01-09T09:02:00.000-05:00

I'm a sucker for fresh starts, so the first week of the new year always feels special. This past week has been filled with summer sunshine, big breakfasts, and little reminders of all the new beginnings in my life. I think 2012 is going to be really great.

2011.

2011-12-30T09:06:00.000-05:00

2011 was a big year. I graduated from college. I traveled Europe. I lived out of a suitcase for six months. I'm both sad and glad to see it go.

I relished living alone. I got a new bike, and went for long rides at dawn. I sat by the water and sometimes saw dolphins. I filled jars with flowers and loved my sunny white room every day.

I made cakes. Some failed, so I made them into trifles. I discovered the magic in homemade oreos.

I felt happy and confused and lost and free. When my heart hurt, lilypads helped.

I made best friends. We went on trips; to a Farm in the foothills of the Ozarks, to my beach house, to D.C, to Nashville. We threw dinner parties, sat on porches, docks, went sailing together. We had picnics at sunrise and went on long walks at sunset.

We swam in pools, sometimes until five in the morning. Twenty of us floated down a river, tied to each other.

I moved out of my apartment and left Charleston.

I spent a blissful month at the beach with my family. We cooked every night and lived simply. We also danced, a lot.

I drank sangria in Barcelona with my 80-year-old grandmother. I spent my 22nd birthday alone in Madrid.

I lived in France for six weeks. I ate fruit from trees and mastered the art of doing nothing. I embarrassed myself often and felt humbled. I liked being alone, I wanted to stay forever.

I fell for these blue eyes.

I was forever changed by a beautiful little family.

I felt impossibly far away.

I made a friend in Limoges; we rode around on his moped and ate homemade Algerian food. The morning I left, he drove me to the train station and gave me a Serge Gainsbourg album.

I gambled in Monte Carlo. I drank wine at vineyards in Bordeaux. I got to know a boy from Charleston who once made me a rolling pin. We walked to a secret bridge every evening.

I lived among a brilliant, quirky group of artists and chefs in the Loire Valley. My heart felt full.

I spent invaluable time with a woman I deeply admire. She taught me how to photograph food and showed me what it means to possess infinite poise.

I ran around Paris with my best friends. For two weeks straight, we sat on our roof to watch the Eiffel Tower sparkle and ate bread as an excuse to eat butter.

We smiled until our cheeks hurt.

I woke up early. I found comfort in coffee, my computer, and The Radio Dept. I cried watching Blue Valentine on too many train rides to count. I made videos about the places I went.

I ran into Charleston friends in Berlin and realized how small the world is.

I was disenchanted by all things touristy. I felt guilty for being disappointed in Prague.

I saw London, Amsterdam, Vienna, Florence and Rome. I was tired. I ate tiramisu until I felt sick and didn't have an ounce of regret.

I came home, and everything was exactly how I left it.

Sharing photos and words makes me happier than I can say, and I'm infinitely grateful for the many wonderful people I've met through this little page on the internet. Starting this blog is one of the best things I've ever done thanks to you, dear readers. Happiest Happy New Year.

See 2010 and 2009 here.