Our Golden Hour Dinner Party

All the way back in June I decided that one of the things I wanted to do this summer was plan and host a pop-up dinner party. Before that day I didn't even know what a pop-up dinner party was but when I read this post I thought, "You know, I could totally do that!" A few minutes later as I scrolled to the end of the post I thought, "I'm definitely doing that!" and started looking at dates on my calendar.

So many things about this concept–hosting a semi-surprise, fancy dinner party outside with friends–resonated with me. What could be better than eating al fresco, for one? We live in a gorgeous part of the country and I was pretty sure we could find a breathtaking venue. I loved the idea of being in nature but using linen tablecloths and real forks and plates and glasses and cloth napkins. The challenge of coming up with a menu and cooking everything myself excited me. And of course, the most fun part was making everything as beautiful and magical as possible and getting to share that with the people I love. (I just hoped I could pull it off!)

We have such a lovely collection of friends here in Charlottesville. We had four couples at the party, plus us and my baby brother (who took all the photos and was incredibly fun and helpful all day long–couldn't have done it without him). In Oh Happy Day style I sent out this slightly cryptic invitation on Paperless Post a few weeks in advance.

I thought that keeping things sort of secretive would add to the magic of the party. The venue we decided on was a quiet public park with a lake and pretty mountain views. We set up the tables in the shade under a collection of old trees near the small lake. The morning of, we emailed directions that my husband had written out old-school style and told everyone that once they arrived, to look for white tablecloths under some nearby trees.

I spent all day cooking. My brother and husband were a huge help with this. I made only things that would be delicious at room temperature and I wanted everything to be fresh and seasonal and look colorful and beautiful on the table. We had poached salmon with a dijon sauce, brown rice with chives, local tomatoes with olive oil and feta, sliced peaches and blueberries, kale and cabbage salad with a balsamic dressing, baguettes with salted butter, and for dessert, lemon pound cake and raspberries. And rosé, because it's so darn pretty.

As we approached 5ish we loaded up both of our cars with all of the supplies. Two 6-foot folding tables, 11 chairs from around the house, a huge tub of tablecloths/dishes/silverware/serving utensils/glasses, the cooler of wine and sparkling water, a metal bucket with candles/bottle opener/twine/lighter/scissors, two vases of wildflowers, and finally the platters of food wrapped tightly in saran wrap. We stopped on the way for ice. 

One thing that was so incredible: as my husband and brother and I set up it was very hot, humid and buggy. This was around 6-6:30ish. We lit tons of citronella candles and sprayed our legs with bug spray and hoped the heat would subside. As we approached 7, which is when we had told our guests to arrive, the sun crept behind the mountain and it became instantly cooler and perfectly crisp and comfortable and the bugs all but disappeared. It was such a welcome relief and I was really able to relax once this happened!

My brother is an excellent photographer and he snapped most of these in the few minutes we had between taking off the saran wrap from the food and when our guests arrived. The light was golden and exquisite and I think he really captured the magic of the evening.

Our friends were so sweet and excited and I think they all loved the surprise element. They didn't quite know what to expect and I think it's safe to say they were amazed when they arrived. It was a marvelous, enchanting evening and I'm so glad we did it.

The More Loving One

I've been slowly making my way through the most fascinating book called Daily Rituals: How Artists Work. Have you heard of it? The author chose 161 inspired and inspiring people from human history–writers, scientists, composers, poets, inventors–and did meticulous research on the habits that surrounded their work and gave structure (or lack of structure) to their days. Interesting, right?

As you might expect these creatively brilliant people were mostly quite odd, and many of them followed their routines with a manic sort of discipline. The Danish philosopher Kierkegaard would fill his coffee cup to the brim with sugar, pour acid-strong coffee over it and drink it in one energetic gulp. Thomas Wolfe wrote his novels naked, standing up, using the top of his fridge as his desk. Gustav Mahler dragged his wife Alma on 3-or-4-hour walks every afternoon, often stopping to compose for an hour or two at a time while he insisted she wait for him. Gertrude Stein usually wrote no more than 30 minutes a day and often got her creativity flowing by staring at individual cows and rocks (!) in the French countryside.

Along the way I've been doing a lot of Googling because I find myself wanting to know more about the actual work these people did. I'm familiar with the composers he's written about and a lot of the writers but the psychologists and poets are a little less known to me. In my side research the other day I discovered this poem by W.H. Auden. It's called The More Loving One.

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

That, for all they care, I can go to hell

But on earth indifference is the least

We have to dread from man or beast

How should we like it were stars to burn

With a passion for us, we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be,

Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am

Of stars that do not give a damn,

I cannot, now I see them, say

I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,

I should learn to look at an empty sky

And feel its total dark sublime,

Though this might take me a little time.

I love this poem. It's simple but so emotionally honest. If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving one be me. How beautifully self-sacrificial to prefer the giving end of unrequited love, to have heartbreak rather than cause it.

Anyway, I highly recommend the book. It's gotten me thinking about my own habits as a creative person. Mostly though, it's sort of like peeking into someone's window which is something I find endlessly intriguing. We've talked about my nosiness before, right?

Painting by Emily Jeffords

Trick For Creamier Vinaigrette

I make my own salad dressing by adding a pinch of salt and a dollop of dijon mustard to some vinegar (usually balsamic or champagne) and shaking it all up in a jar with good olive oil. I always add freshly cracked pepper to the greens and often a big squeeze of lemon. Easy, delicious vinaigrette.

Sometimes, though, I crave a creamier, thicker dressing. Last night we had a big kale salad for dinner with cherry tomatoes, diced red onion, walnuts, freshly grated parmesan, mandarin oranges, and spicy crisped chickpeas. (We had fried chicken for lunch, hence, the abundance of superfoods for dinner.) I was thinking about the dressing I wanted to make and the chickpeas lent me a flash of inspiration. Why not add a spoonful of hummus to my salad dressing to give it that creamy texture?!

So I did and it was divine. The subtle chickpea flavor played off the chickpeas in the salad very nicely. The taste of garlic and tahini were welcome additions to the vinegar and mustard and most importantly, it was rich and creamy without being heavy or unwholesome.

p.s. We buy this hummus. I've made my own hummus before but I can never get it to taste as silky and perfect as this store-bought variety, so I've surrendered to it.

Curried Quinoa With Raisins

This "recipe" for Curried Quinoa With Raisins (like a lot of my cooking) was born out of a mixture of inspiration and improvisation. The idea came from this photo posted by a lovely lady I follow on Instagram and I thought it sounded and looked so good--light yet warming and spicy and fragrant. I happened to have a few cups of cooked quinoa languishing in the fridge and since quinoa normally doesn't inspire me, I got to work right away before my creative mood disappeared.

First I heated some olive oil and sautéed one shallot and one clove of minced garlic for about a minute. I added the cooked quinoa next along with a healthy handful of raisins and just enough chicken broth to moisten the quinoa and to plump up the raisins. I stirred and cooked this for a few minutes before adding (completely to taste) kosher salt, a good amount of curry powder, and a bit of Garam Masala (this sounds fancy but if you like to cook Indian food every so often as I do, this is a fairly basic and easy-to-find spice blend to keep on hand). 

We topped it with creamy plain Greek yogurt because that's my favorite thing to put on all Indian-flavored food, and I have to say it was delicious. We ate it alongside crispy shrimp and an avocado/grapefruit salad but it could easily be a main dish. 

I could think of pretty much endless variations on this basic recipe--toss in some toasted almonds or pistachios, add some chickpeas, sauté fresh ginger with the garlic and shallot, use dried cherries instead of or in addition to the raisins, throw in baby kale or spinach for a little green. If you don't have cooked quinoa already in the fridge then just cook the quinoa first and proceed the same way. (You might be able to skip the chicken broth addition by cooking the quinoa in broth and not letting all of it completely absorb.)

Yum! I hope you try it!

Packing For Japan: Tops

This weekend I spent a few hours in the bedroom prancing around and trying things on and finalizing the list of things I'm bringing to Japan--and guess what? I'm packing only TEN pieces of clothing! For a ten day trip! Ask me if I'm proud of myself. (Enormously.)

I wrote last week about my plan to come up with a basic, neutral, mix-and-match-able wardrobe for this trip. Once I decided on that it was surprisingly easy to come up with the actual pieces I'd bring. Here are the tops I picked.

A simple, comfortable drapey black tank. This French Connection top goes with everything and can be dressy or casual. It's also super lightweight and breathable which is a must for the warm, humid weather we're expecting.

The three tees I'm bringing are all loose and flowy, which is my favorite and the most comfortable for travel, especially in hot temperatures. This Banana Republic striped tunic top is so soft and the cut is flattering and elegant which dresses up the fact that it's a t-shirt.

Of course I'm bringing my favorite Everlane Ryan tees in charcoal grey and white. These look so weird on the hanger but I can assure you they're very cute when you put them on. They're comfy and go with everything and can be dressed up when you tuck them into something pretty and high-waisted (hint hint) or tie a scarf around your neck.

This is the one pair of long sleeves I'm bringing. This sweater is cozy and a little boxy in a chic way and is loose enough that it can be thrown on over anything. I imagine I'll need this for flights and in the evenings if it cools down. I'm a little worried about the cream color being susceptible to stains but a black sweater just feels so wintery and formal.

And that's it for tops! 4 tees/tanks and one sweater. I may cheat a bit and wear my men's flannel button-down for the long 30 hours or so we'll be traveling before landing in Tokyo--I'm just thinking that whatever I wear for that initial travel I probably won't want to wear again, and all of these things need to be worn at least twice. So we'll see.

Next up are pants and shorts. I hope this is interesting/fun for you guys too? I'm just so excited about planning a travel wardrobe and packing lightly and efficiently. Thanks for humoring me as I share and count down the days until we go! One month from tomorrow!

Inspired

Yesterday was so inspiring.

I performed in a chamber music concert in the morning for a group of fellow music teachers. To say that I was extremely nervous about it would be an understatement but the moment I began to play, the anxiety was replaced with an acute awareness of the majesty of the music. Performing is magical that way. It's like playing a piece for the first time in some ways, hearing it as the audience does, fresh and new.

In the afternoon my dear friend, neighbor, and sometimes-piano student came over to play me a medley she had written for her husband years ago. It was composed of a few of his favorite pieces--The Parting Glass from Waking Ned Devine, an Eagles song, Simple Gifts, a Scott Joplin tune. It made me tear up it was so gorgeous and heartfelt and so obviously inspired by the most real love.

Then in the evening I went to see a documentary called Seymour: An Introduction and just about melted into a puddle in my seat. It's about classical pianist and master teacher Seymour Bernstein and it was the most poignant tribute to art I think I've ever seen. Bernstein says that music is the "God inside us" and watching it, I got a familiar but at the same time rare feeling that I can only describe as intense gratitude for the music inside me, in my fingertips, in my soul. Gratitude that this art that touches me so deeply is my art, that of all the professions in the world this is the one I'm called to.

You know, the nervousness before a concert, the hours of practicing, the frustration and feelings of inadequacy that are inevitable in a life devoted to a craft, they can cloud you and bring you to dark places. I think it's because music is inherently soulful and it makes you vulnerable. It's so so hard to do justice to a late Beethoven sonata, a fugue by Bach. It takes such extraordinary effort and emotion. So when I am able to step back and be reminded, as I was over and over yesterday, of the richness and beauty and purity and sheer goodness that make up the tradition of music, it can be so profound and overwhelming it makes me cry.

All of music--the composers who make it, the poetry of art songs, the lessons we learn by studying it, the people who inspire it and whose names are written lovingly on manuscripts, the natural grace of the piano itself--all of it is our gift.

On Making Your Own Adventures

Last week at the end of the day on Friday, I was feeling weird and restless. It had been a full and productive week and I was in the mood to do something but was having a hard time coming up with a fun thing to do that didn't cost money. We're trying very hard these days to be conscious of our spending--in general but also in anticipation of our Japan trip--and at 4:00 on a Friday, the only ideas I could think of involved drinks or food.

What's a girl to do!?

I was getting mopey. My husband suggested I take a long walk and reminded me that fresh air always makes me feel better. I mulled this over. We talked about dinner. We had planned an indulgent Friday night dinner of hot dogs with some kale and brown rice on the side for health and balance. I told him we didn't have hot dog buns. Cue more mopiness on my part.

And then my husband (as he is apt to do) saved my afternoon. "Why don't you walk to that cute little food store near the park and buy us some hot dog buns?" 

Ok, I know that on the surface that doesn't sound like fun, or a very romantic suggestion on my husband's part. But the man knows me. This was exactly the adventure I needed. The store he was referring to is about a mile away from our house, a perfectly walkable distance, but in our town we are so used to jumping in the car when we need something that it wouldn't have occurred to me to hoof it.

"It'll feel like you're in New York." He knows I miss those days of walking 30 blocks without a second thought, my little bodegas where I used to pick up that one thing I was missing for dinner. The people-watching and buzz of life all around. They were little adventures.

It was a chilly day but I was already feeling my spirits lift so I bundled up, popped in ear buds and turned on my Radical Face Pandora station, grabbed a tote, and set out down the street.

The store didn't have hot dog buns.

As far as I was concerned, though, my Friday afternoon mission was completed. I was mopey no longer. I smiled to myself, thinking how funny it was that I had walked 20 minutes (one way) to buy hot dog buns at a store that doesn't carry hot dog buns. I bought some regular bread and a few ripe avocados and some lemon mint tea and began my trek home, red-cheeked and tingling and happy.

The hot dog buns were just the excuse anyway.

(Photo above is an adorable house I noticed while walking.)

Cleansing Oil Hand Wash

I bought this Bobbi Brown Cleansing Oil awhile ago to try as a face wash and ended up not loving it for my sensitive skin. I hate to be wasteful so for the longest time I kept it with my bath supplies because I couldn't justify throwing it out. 

But! Then I thought, why not use it as a hand wash? My hands are perpetually dry in the wintertime and most soaps only make them more parched. So I plopped this pretty little bottle on the sink and it's now such a treat to wash my hands. The formula is really light and not at all oily, if you can believe it. It smells incredibly fresh (jasmine!) and makes my hands feel clean but also moisturized. Hooray for re-purposing!

What do you use in the wintertime to keep your hands soft and healthy? (I've also been loving this hand cream.)

Eucalyptus-Scented Shower

A few years ago I discovered lavender essential oil, and since then I've become obsessed with all-natural ways of making my home/clothes/towels/pillowcases/you-name-it smell divine.

I mix up my own lavender linen spray for our sheets and pillowcases. I make lemon-scented room spray and keep it in our living room for last-minute air freshening when we have guests. I'm addicted to the Trader Joe's lavender dryer bags (and not just for the dryer--you'll find them tucked in just about every sock, underwear, linen, and towel drawer in our house). 

But my latest aromatherapy experiment is possibly my favorite yet--I tied some eucalyptus branches to our shower curtain rod! I got the idea from this post and while it sounds a little strange, it's actually amazing. The steam from the shower causes the earthy, fresh eucalyptus aroma to surround you and it's so refreshing and awakening first thing in the morning. 

An added bonus is that eucalyptus is pretty beautiful. I arranged the stems in a bouquet and hung it upside down with a little bit of kitchen twine and I'm loving the way it looks.

What do you think? Will you try it? (FYI, for all of you who have a Trader Joe's near you, a bundle of fresh eucalyptus is only $2.99!)

Surely The Lord Is In This Place

It's important to my husband and me that our home at Christmastime (well, year-round really, but especially at Christmas) reflects our faith. Now I hope it isn't sacrilegious to say so but I'm personally not a huge fan--aesthetically speaking--of really ornate, over-the-top religious mementos in the home. I prefer the subtle and understated, in almost all areas of life come to think of it.

Anyone who visits our home would be able to deduce that we are serious Christians--from the books on the shelves, the wooden cross hanging above our door, the simple John the Baptist icon in our bedroom. This time of year, the Nativity scene and Advent wreath and many of our ornaments remind us of our faith.

Our house is filled with our Christian beliefs but it's all very, well, subtle and understated is the best way to say it. Kind of like the early Christians who marked their homes with a fish crudely carved above their doorways. There's such power in this simplicity. Of course, there are times when God calls us to shout from the rooftops. He would never want us to hide our faith or shy away from sharing it. There is a time to be bold and wear your heart on your sleeve, there is a place for incredible religious monuments. Take me to St. John the Divine in all its ornate majesty and I'm overcome with emotion and awe and spiritual power.

Faith is the most important thing in life. But it's also at its core supremely private and personal. God hears every whispered prayer and counts every breath and understands every ounce of who we are. He knows every child before it is conceived and He sends us signs from above and guides us from deep within our hearts.

God is always with us. Sometimes, of course, His presence is tangible and obvious and those moments are precious. But most of the time He moves mysteriously and delicately, subtly. Most of the time He doesn't hit us over the head but instead loves us through nudges and coaxes and quietly answered prayers. Most of the time He goes totally unseen and it is our job to believe without seeing.

I suppose that's why I prefer to fill our home with these simpler sorts of religious icons. To me, God is most powerful when He's subtle, when He makes us strain to hear Him. In real everyday life it isn't always easy to find God. Life can be so, so difficult. But as Christians we know without a doubt--whether we're in St. John the Divine or in our homes or in the most desolate wilderness--we know that surely, the Lord is in this place.


Merry Christmas, friends! May it be holy and bright.

Virtual Choir

A lovely friend of mine introduced me to the most beautiful thing, and I can't believe (especially being a musician) that I'm just now hearing about it.

It's called the Virtual Choir. Eric Whitacre is a contemporary classical composer and conductor and he is the musical genius behind the idea. For each piece they perform (they've done a bunch), Whitacre puts out a call for YouTube submissions from singers around the world. He makes his scores available and asks singers to record their part--soprano, alto, tenor, bass--and then the voices are spliced and edited together to form this incredible, 21st century, international choir.

You must watch and listen.

I keep hitting repeat on this video and every time, I get chills and my eyes well up. This is what art is all about. It's transcendent and fundamentally human and soulful and despite the oceans and continents and languages that separate these people, here they are making heavenly music together. It's astonishing, really.

I hope you love it as much as I do.

Homemade Christmas

Unsurprisingly, I like to decorate for Christmas the same way I like to decorate the rest of the time--simply, putting hand-me-downs to good use, re-purposing in creative ways, making instead of buying when I can.

For me, this is the most wholesome and refreshing and in-the-spirit way to approach Christmas. I've been very conscious this year, perhaps more so than in other years, of keeping my focus on Jesus, of nurturing peace in my heart and in my home, and making this most special holiday simple, lovely, and joyful.

As I look around our home the words "Homemade Christmas" jump into my mind. My brothers and I were raised on gluing together our own ornaments, baking and frosting warm sugar cookies, stockings that were sewn by Grandma. And I suppose I've now adapted that homemade spirit for adulthood.

Instead of purchasing an expensive garland for our mantel, we asked for the discarded evergreen trimmings we saw in a pile at a local Christmas tree farm. From those I had more than enough to fill our mantel and transform my fall wreath into a wintery one. I found some holly (holly look-alike maybe?) in our yard and stuck a few sprigs on the wreath, and I dotted the mantel greenery with some of the leftovers from this unexpected fall bouquet. I foraged for the red berries during a walk to the park.







Our advent wreath is a little on the makeshift side but I love its simplicity. These greens also came from this bouquet. We arranged them in a rustic circle and set out four white votives and a larger Christ candle in the middle.

Everything is so simple and wintery and the only thing we've purchased (other than gifts) is our mini live tree. I felt so content and peaceful as I unwrapped things we already had and found a place for them in our new home, as I snipped berries from the tree outside our window, as I positioned baby Jesus and Mary in the place of honor on the mantel.

So while it's certainly nice to have the traditional pink or purple Advent candles, I don't think Jesus minds that we've chosen to honor him with plain white votives instead. After all, Christmas isn't about acquiring things and it isn't about perfection. It's about love and joy and celebration and family and it's about a heart-bursting kind of hope.

In that spirit, a Homemade Christmas sounds just right to me.