40 in four(ty): pals and nicknames and symbols

Well, damn. 40 in forty has quickly turned into 40 in four. Good thing I'm excited about it. 

I really don't have much in the way of wisdom left to share. But I have, as my birthday and party approach, been thinking about friendships and the many incredible people I'm lucky enough to call dear pals. About what it means to know and to be known. About how it feels to make our ways, both alone and together, through this thing called life.

About the nicknames we bestow to special people and the inside jokes we share over the years. About the importance of safe relationships in which you can ugly cry one minute and laugh hysterically the next; in which you can whisper to each other that your children approached asshole status earlier and also send each other photographs of and brag notes about those devil-angels later.

Yesterday, while one of my besties, C, and I were rearranging what furniture I do have (she grooves on that sort of thing which is one reason I love her), I received a mailing tube from Poland. I do not know anyone in Poland but I spied a fleur-de-lis stamp on the outside of the package and squealed a bit just as C said, "I bet it's a present." 

Friends, I did not think surprise gifts could get much cooler than the personalized knife of two weeks back, but the Polish treat is right on par with the blade from Japan. 

It is a LASER-ENGRAVED rolling pin, people. Peppered with FLEURS-DE-LIS. It wallpapers your cookies (or fondant or whatever) with fleurs! Say what?

Today after finally finishing a project I've been working on for the kids' school, I scurried to the kitchen and made some shortbread dough. As an aside, this is the only shortbread you should ever make. It is Ming Tsai's recipe, and it is off the hook. I sub vanilla bean paste for the vanilla bean innards. Same diff. If you have time, make the cookies several days in advance because they improve with age. Do NOT skimp on the salt.

Ok, anyway, back to the pin. Beyond the fact that it's just ridiculously cool and pretty, it is also exceedingly me, and that's what I love most about it. Amy, one of my dearest college besties, knows me inside and out, and she knew this was perfect and that I would adore it. Today on the phone, amidst my enthused goings-on, she said, "I mean, I looked on the woman's website and saw one WITH YOUR SYMBOL." 

Indeed. Why not have a symbol? You don't have to go all Prince about it, but rather, you can think about a symbol (or image if you prefer) as a nickname you give yourself.

I have always been an enormous fan of nicknames and feel quite happy when others start calling me something that seems to roll of their tongues without their even thinking.

In college, my best guy friend, Mike, and also my roommate, Rosemary, called me Emmy. Amy called me Ems (and still does), and I called her Ames (still do). My senior year boyfriend called me Emil. He's the only one to ever coin that one, and in many ways, that seems fitting. He was special and so was the name. Most everyone else called me Nichols (maiden name). 

My mom always called me Rascal, and now, most people call me Em. 

seriously. how gorgeous are those cookies?!

My inability to completely let go of Nichols is the reason I took it back as part of my last name after briefly letting it go post-marriage. I realized that it was too tightly wound to the core of my identity to not use. Adding it back was like welcoming home a long-lost (in this case short-lost) friend. 

And now I have my beloved fleur-de-lis which is a state symbol of both Louisiana and Florence (where I grew up/my parents still live; where my sister lives) and also this blog and me. 

Forget about it with my kids. I call each of them at least a half-dozen different names including Doodle, Peaches, Onk and Bug.

Do you have an image that people connect with you? Something that makes people think, "Oh, that is SO her!" What about a nickname? Do you have one? More? What are your favorites? Have you ever been nicknamed something you hated?

I find that nicknames breed a greater familiarity and a whole lot of warmth. The world is nicer with those things in it. Go forth with symbols and nicknames and good friends!

Such a good, good dinner

My darling T has a wonderful new job. We are all terribly proud but it does require longer hours, and I miss him sometimes. Our nightly dinners together won't be quite so reliable anymore, he will surely see the kids less during the week, and his commute is longer too. Still, I am so happy for him and eager to see how he flies on these new wings. I had quite a nice day but was totally pooped by the time I got the kids in bed. I scurried downstairs to make some dinner, hungry and excited for T to get home. Midway through roasting carrots, searing cauliflower and prepping chicken, T called to say he'd be extremely late tonight and not to wait. Not to worry, tired me decided the next best thing was a marvelous meal for one. Yes, my trivet was an old cloth diaper (never used for diapering, mind you, just as a burp cloth; everyone should use cloth diapers as burp cloths and then repurpose them as children's napkins because they are indestructible and never let you down.), my placemat and napkin didn't match and the rest of the table looked (still looks) like an all-purpose office repository, but still, or perhaps because of all that, this meal was divine, and I simply must tell you all about it.

For starters, my boys were darlings this afternoon. Sure, Ol had five minutes of crazy before bedtime, but he was overtired from a seriously energetic and fun Valentine's Day party plus lots of cookies and sugar (I just had to make Ming Tsai's shortbread again! Mon dieu!). Ultimately, he was as dreamy and sweet as Jack, and I've already been in to each of their rooms once to cast a loving eye over them, taking them in in all their sleeping, quiet, precious glory.

When your kids are good, you really always start any subsequent venture -no matter how minuscule- extremely ahead of the curve. So perhaps I should have known dinner would turn out so well.

Anyway, I definitely wanted to make some lemon roasted carrots, trying my hand for the umpteenth time at perfecting Whole Foods' lemon roasted carrots recipe which, though always good, has eluded me. Until tonight. Haha, I've done it! How delightful. And how delicious. Perseverance, friends.

While those roasted, I sliced a cauliflower into thick steaks and seasoned each hunk with olive oil, salt and pepper. Naturally, I also heated my Lodge skillet over a high heat. Seared cauliflower steaks would also be mine.

The fresh farm chicken I'd thawed throughout today gave me pause. What to do with it to maximize its extraordinary natural flavor but also make things interesting, i.e. not the Seinfeld girlfriend who only ate plain chicken breasts. A quick glance around my kitchen brought me to terms with the number of dishes I'd already dirtied so I decided the chicken must return to one of them so as to make clean-up even slightly less onerous. The Lodge!

Meanwhile, those beautiful carrot tops were just lounging in lonely fashion next to the sink. "I can't compost you" I thought, "it's too cold and you are too pretty." So, a carrot top pesto to dollop over the chicken started taking shape in my mind. Hmm...walnuts just cuz, garlic, yada, yada. A first taste begged for some tang. Lemon! A second swipe of the finger suggested a depth of flavor and smell was needed. I don't know why, and I'm damn thankful for this, but the stinky Brie in my fridge, leftover from last Friday's mom's party, came to mind. A wedge of that flew into the food processor, and I swear it was love at first taste. This pesto is off the charts good. And with the chicken?? Which by the way I seared in hot butter? Amazing.

I could die. I am so damn satisfied right now, that I've decided not to clean up tonight. Not least because it's 9:30, T is still not home, I'm tired as get-out and have a meeting at 8:30 tomorrow morning PLUS Jack's return to the dentist at 11:30. Keep me in your thoughts, people, because if he gnaws another wound into his cheek and we then get the "ice storm of the century" that's being threatened, well, I just don't know if a happy Em that all will make.

For tonight, however, I remain cheerful and bid you bonsoir.