Add a can of black beans, a few spicy jalapeños, and a handful of fragrant cilantro and serve alongside your favorite Mexican chicken dish. (It also makes an easy lunch, scooped onto multi-grain chips.)

While Andrew sipped tequila (the good stuff from Mexico) with my dad on our patio, Nick fired up the grill, and I served a bowl of fresh guacamole. Then I sautéed sweet corn, tomatoes, black beans, jalapeños, garlic, and cilantro into a simple side dish.

I had told Andrew and Dad earlier in the day that we were having grilled chicken for dinner. Of course, they know us well and figured it wouldn’t be just any grilled chicken. They were right.

We made Ree’s tequila lime chicken earlier this summer, and we were anxious to have it again. The marinade is incredibly flavorful, and the dish comes together quickly. We topped ours with freshly grated Monterrey Jack cheese and homemade pico de gallo (tomatoes, red onion, jalapeño, garlic, cilantro, lime juice, and kosher salt).

Andrew said it was better than anything he’s had at a Mexican restaurant. (He should try our chilaquiles!)

LIFeSTYLE is an Italian gem in Bedford County. It’s located just off Main Street, between the 1794 headquarters of George Washington and the medicinal mineral springs, now home to a luxurious spa and resort.

During the day LIFeSTYLE sells fine Italian products like soft Tuscan linens, Deruta ceramics, aged balsamic vinegars, and artisan cheeses.

Each Friday morning they set out fresh loaves of bread, and occasionally they sell homemade ravioli. Both are so popular that pre-orders are recommended.

Then every Saturday night, the shop is transformed into a trattoria. Owners — and husband and wife — Stefano and Sarah set out one long table that seats no more than 22 customers. The menu is conceptualized that day, and the price is fixed at $45 per person, which includes service.

Stefano is a young man with a thick Italian accent and a delightful demeanor. He welcomed us with the ringing of a brass bell and encouraged us to please pop the corks on our bottles of red wine.

There were less than 20 people at the table that night including an architect celebrating his birthday and a bright-eyed, newly engaged couple. At the center sat a woman who grew up in London during WWII and her friend who operates an organic farm and owns three restaurants in Baltimore (The Helmand, Tapas Teatro, and b bistro). Beside us sat a couple who has raised everything from geese to guinea hens to mules. And, surprisingly, we were the only Pennsylvania residents.

While we awaited our first course, the conversation flowed as effortlessly as the wine, and we embraced the intimacy that is common in Italy’s quaint trattorias.

Soon Stefano emerged again from the tiny kitchen located just on the other side of an elaborate bookcase of shop items. Before serving the antipasto, he told us he had selected the heirloom tomatoes from the market that morning. The colorful fruit was roughly chopped and arranged, along with onions, on crusty slices of bread and finished with a drizzle of 15-year-old balsamic vinegar. It was the kind of bruschetta that begs to be eaten with both hands.

The second course was our favorite of the night: blueberry risotto. The risotto was creamy and cooked to perfection. It was slightly sweet from the local berries and a little salty from the shavings of aged Parmesan cheese. I hear their strawberry risotto is even better, which means we should make our reservation now for June 2011!

Next came the chicken cacciatore. Cacciatore means hunter in Italian and typically consists of braised chicken, tomatoes, onions, and herbs. Stefano marinated the legs of dark meat overnight and seasoned them with salty olives and anchovies. The moist chicken fell right off the bone and was served alongside mixed greens with oil and vinegar.

Before the final courses of the night, Stefano introduced us to his children. He said kids are commonplace in the Italian kitchen, and none of us had an objection to waving at his little boy and oogling over his newborn girl. (Unfortunately, Sarah did not make an appearance, and so we’ll just have to return to meet her!)

While in America we tend to pick from a cheese platter before sitting down to dinner, Italians serve formaggi on its own plate between the main course and the dessert course. (Note: I must have been so anxious to sample the trifecta of imported cheeses that I failed to get a photo.) One: Pecorino from Sardinia with white wine jelly. Two: Asiago from Verona with fig jam. Three: Pecorino from Tuscany with dark, bitter honey.

And the final course of the night was a generous slice of tiramisu, one of Italy’s most popular cakes. Stefano noted that some tiramisu is made with Marsala wine, but he prefers the version made with rum. The thin, delicate cakes were dipped in coffee, flavored with rum, and layered with a whipped mixture of egg yolks and mascarpone. A dusting of chocolate on top — along with a cup of strong espresso — provided a bitter balance to the sweet, creamy layers of cake and cheese.

After we cleaned our plates and before we headed back north on I-99, we asked Stefano about the cooking classes offered by LIFeSTYLE once every month. The October class is not yet full, and you can bet we’re calling this week to reserve our spots!

It was an absolutely ideal way to celebrate our first year as husband and wife — engaging conversation and an exceptional showcase of Italian flavors and traditions in a humble setting with gracious hosts. Grazie to Stefano and Sarah and our new friends!

Yesterday morning we were determined to recreate our favorite honeymoon breakfast. Chilaquiles are a traditional Mexican dish consisting of corn tortillas, green or red salsa or mole, eggs, and sometimes pulled chicken. I scoured the web for recipes and decided on one that warned: “There’s a lot of work involved with this recipe, but it’s worth it if you’re hankering for an authentic Mexican breakfast.” But it was our anniversary. What better way to spend it than sautéing tomatoes and jalapeños from our garden, baking tortillas, and poaching eggs?

First we made a sauce seasoned with onions, garlic, jalapeños, cumin, and chili powder.

The flavors intensify as they simmer on the stove top with tomatoes and chicken stock.

And this wouldn’t be a proper Mexican dish without cilantro, so we tossed that in, too.

After almost an hour, the sauce cooks down to a thick, deep shade of red. This is when you throw it into a food processor.

Sauté more onions, jalapeños, and cilantro and combine with the blended sauce — this time in a Dutch oven that can be transfered from the stove top to the oven.

At this point it may be necessary to sample the sauce. Savor it and remember the sun and white sand beaches of the Riviera Maya, the kayaks and cocktails and cenotes. Gradually ease back into reality and into your Pennsylvania kitchen and add the corn tortillas to the pot.

Another mandatory ingredient in south-of-the-border cooking? Cheese. Lots of it. We used sharp cheddar.

Cover the pot with aluminum foil and place it in the oven. Then you must make a decision. Should you finish the chilaquiles with a standard fried egg, or go outside your comfort zone and place a pretty poached one on top? It’s our anniversary, remember. Pretty poached egg it is.

You can find great tips for poaching eggs here. And we will confirm that the process is an easier one with a splash of rice vinegar.

Finally. Finally! It’s time to assemble the chilaquiles. Sprinkle with chopped cilantro, sit beside your loved one, and savor each forkful. Promise to return to Mexico some day, but until then, celebrate the taste of it from thousands of miles away.

The last song of the night came far too soon. We swayed to Van Morrison and smiled into each other’s shoulders and enjoyed the final moments of our wedding day.

And despite not winding through rows of waving sparklers, our exit as husband and wife was intimate and celebratory nevertheless.

My cousin — who graciously volunteered to drive guests to their cars in a golf cart provided by the venue — waited for us with an umbrella just outside of the tent. He helped us climb into the back of the cart, and then our photographer snapped the final photo of the night. Please note my flat hair, muddy and disheveled dress, and shoes that were no longer red. But you know what? I was — and am — a  happily married woman.

Because anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain. Happy first anniversary to my very wonderful husband!

What takes 2,500 sheets of paper, 20 ink cartridges, eight sets of hands, and ten days to make? If you entered our blog giveaway a few months ago, you already know the answer: our wedding favors!

The idea took shape during a conversation with my sister-in-law. She suggested we incorporate our passion for food and cooking into our wedding day. And since we’ve been blogging about our culinary adventures since 2007, we had a plethora of recipes to choose from. Thus the Family Cooking cookbook was born.

We organized our recipes into the following categories: Hers (my family favorites), His (Nick’s family favorites), and Ours (recipes we’ve made together). We ended up with close to 60 recipes, and that was after thorough editing! Once we had collected and organized the recipes and photos (all taken by us), I laid out the pages in Adobe Illustrator.

Then, with MUCH help from Nick and my dear sister-in-law, we printed all 2,500 plus pages. It was incredibly time consuming, but it was more cost efficient than having the pages printed by a professional. (We wouldn’t have been able to print full color if we had gone the professional route.)

After the pages were printed, I toted them to my parents’ house for help with the assembly. It took four of us to properly stack all 125 books. And let me tell you, it was a relief when I dropped them off to be bound!

In addition to having the books professionally bound, we also had the covers professionally printed, with help from a photographer friend and a graphic designer friend.

Finally, sister-in-law once again volunteered to help wrap and label each book. She wrapped the books in kraft paper, tied them with red raffia ribbon, and attached cardstock name tags with our monogram stamp.

We were thrilled with the final product — both inside and out! We asked our day-of-coordinator to place each book on the appropriate table, and they were opened before we even entered the tent for the reception!

Now we love seeing the cookbook displayed in the kitchens of our friends and family members. And we especially enjoy hearing about the recipes they’ve tried: Dad’s Fluffy French Toast, Uncle Lloyd’s Potato Salad, Aunt Jane’s Apple Dumplings.

It’s something I know our guests will cherish forever.

By now you know we were not graced with the warm and sunny August wedding day that we had envisioned. (Though it’s supposed to be absolutely perfect weather for our first anniversary tomorrow!) This caused several changes in our wedding day plans. Guests gripped umbrellas during the ceremony. The cocktail hour was moved from the pool house to the tent. We had limited time for outdoor photos. And we were not able to use sparklers for our grand exit as Mr. and Mrs.

Nick and I spent hours assembling matchboxes and sparklers based on templates from Twig & Thistle.

They were neatly displayed for guests to pick up at the end of the night and wave as we exited the tent and walked along a path of candles suspended from shepherds hooks. By 10pm we knew this was not going to happen.

While I was on the dance floor with my bridesmaids, my dear husband and devoted photographer wandered into the rain to get just one sparkler shot for me. That is love.

{Photos credit to Robert Winton}

When we first considered desserts, we envisioned a rustic assortment of cakes and pies. And then we tasted cupcakes from Providence Divine Cakes and Pastries in York, Pa. “Divine” is the perfect adjective to describe the moist, flavorful cake and the swirl of sweet buttercream on top. Naturally, our plans changed.

There’s a reason why cupcake towers are a wedding trend. They enable the bride and groom to select a variety of flavor combinations, there’s no additional cost to “cut the cake,” and the display is just so darn cute.

We served the following:

• Chocolate cake with buttercream frosting
• Chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting
• Vanilla cake with buttercream frosting
• Vanilla cake with coconut frosting
• Red velvet with buttercream frosting

(Yes, I’m craving one right now.)

The cupcakes tumbled down the three-tier display (provided by the bakery) and onto the round table alongside our Gocco’d napkins.

For our 6-inch round cake topper, we chose a white cake brushed with Chambord and layered with raspberry Champbord preserves and mousse. Yum!

To the tune of “How Sweet It Is,” by James Taylor (predictable I know, but he is truly one of my favorite artists), we sliced into our wedding cake with an engraved Lenox knife given to us by my parents.

The red and orange ribbons looked oh so pretty, but proved to be a hazard.

As evidence from this perfectly timed shot, we both thought the cake was going to topple off the pedestal and onto the ground.

But it remained in place, and we happily shared bites with kisses in between. (Note: We did not submit to the “smash it” chants, but by the end of the evening, one bridesmaid and one groomsman did end up with frosting all over their faces.)

About that shared slice of cake, it was the only piece we saw and tasted all night. Somehow, our ravenous guests got into the rest of it. We didn’t notice this until the following morning when I asked my parents if they put the remainder in the freezer. “No,” my mom said, “there was nothing left! But it sure tasted good.”

Fortunately, Providence provides a complimentary cake for our first anniversary. We won’t be in town to pick it up this weekend, so we plan to have a belated celebration when we’re home for Labor Day!

Considering how fast the cupcakes disappeared from the table, I’m glad we grabbed one to share when we did! Chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting, of course.

{Photos credit to Robert Winton}

They grew from high school sweethearts to spouses to parents. And through every obstacle, their love has remained strong and their laughter has remained constant.

Over the weekend, while Nick and I were cleaning out the boxes we’ve yet to unpack, I came across a poem I wrote for a college writing course. And there was a photo tucked inside.

This is my parents on prom night, standing in front of the same mantle where I had my own prom pictures taken. And here is the poem.

1973
A shaggy-haired boy sits at the mahogany dining room table.
A single red rose lies in his lap,
brilliant against the deep gray of his twill pants.
His ears perk at the purring engine of a Chevy Malibu
as it turns into the driveway.
His parents follow him to the front porch
to find a pink flush spreading across
the fair-skinned face of the teenage woman as she exits the Malibu.
Her dark hair cascades to her narrow hips,
smooth and straight like sleek strands of silk.
She raises her eyes to meet his deep chestnut ones
as her painted lips part into a smile.
Her dress hangs loosely from her slender figure,
the color of an oyster pearl,
a black lace shawl wrapped around her shoulders.
Her head unconsciously tilts towards his
as his arm easily finds the arch of her back.
“Smile.”
A camera captures the moment.

2003
A blond-haired girl sits at the foot of the basement stairs.
The solid oak dresser rises before her,
drawers ajar, photographs spilling from its insides.
A single photo lies in her lap,
gray against her brilliant blue skirt.
She adjusts a strand of her wispy hair,
as her painted lips part into a smile,
imagining her teenage parents.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad! May you both always remember that easy, innocent love you felt on prom night and on your wedding day. I love you both!

About an hour into the dance party, Nick and I took center stage to thank our families and friends for traveling from California, Utah, Michigan, North Carolina, and Germany to share the day with us. I think our guests really appreciated the acknowledgment. (And Nick made everyone laugh, as usual.)

We also gave a special shout out to our parents for setting wonderful examples for us to follow — in life, love, and marriage. We then asked them to join us on the dance floor to celebrate 30 years of marriage (my parents) and 36 years of marriage (his parents).

Yes, it was time for the Anniversary Dance. Rather than tossing the obligatory bouquet to a lucky — and likely embarrassed — single lady, we chose to honor the couple with the longest marriage. My grandparents, who have been married for 57 years (!!!), joyfully received the bouquet.

And in lieu of the garter toss, DJ Wild Bill suggested the groom and groomsmen perform a special dance. Honestly, nobody knew what to expect — bride and groom included. Bill lined them up on the dance floor and led them through a series of moves, then asked them to “pay respect” to the bride and bridesmaids. The grand finale was unrehearsed, too. Nick strutted toward my chair, showed off his red socks, and planted a big kiss on my lips. It was one of my favorite moments of the night.

So we decided against the bouquet toss and the garter toss, but we did do the Dollar Dance. It was not at all about the money; it was totally about spending a few minutes with individual guests. Our aunts and uncles and cousins especially enjoyed it. And to make it more classy, my mother ordered a monogrammed ivory satin bag to collect the dollar bills, proudly displayed by our maid of honor and best man.

{Photos credit to Robert Winton}