On Leftovers, Cooking for Two, and a Recipe

This week I have been actively committed to using up the massive amounts of Thanksgiving leftovers that took up residency in our fridge last Thursday evening. Considering we made enough food to feed at least six people, maybe even eight, that has proved quite the task. I've nuked plates of Turkey Day fixins' and gobbled 'em up as is for breakfast and lunch, but we've also remixed the leftovers into new recipes for dinner. I love leftovers, I do, but they are definitely starting to lose their luster.

First, since I had an extra frozen pie crust, I made Giada's Thankful Shepherd's Pie (subbing out whole milk for heavy cream, glazed carrots for fresh, and frozen peas and corn for celery). The recipe helped use up most of our mashed potatoes and gravy. Next, inspired by a Rachael Ray recipe, I winged my own version of a crustless, sweet potato-topped shepherd's pie, with green bean casserole as the base.

Both of these casseroles were good (the first better than the second), but they tasted just like Thanksgiving. In other words: a bit boring.

So the other day I turned to our new favorite cookbook for a recipe that required turkey but didn't mimic the flavors of our recent holiday feast, and found this: Turkey Chili! 

For his birthday two months ago, I ransacked Crate & Barrel and, among other things, got G a hefty (read: manly) 12-inch Lodge cast iron skillet along with "One Pan, Two Plates: More Than 70 Complete Weeknight Meals for Two" by Carla Snyder, and it has quickly become one of our go-to cookbooks. Besides the wonderful and varied gourmet recipes housed within, the beauty of this book is three-fold (and obvious by its title): each recipe is made in one pan/skillet, is the perfect amount for two people and, as such, leaves no (or very little) leftovers.

"One Pan, Two Plates" is perfect for couples and newlyweds, like G and I, but also roommates and empty nesters. No need for mathematics to cut recipes in half or thirds, or to dirty a bunch of pots and pans in the pursuit of dinner.

We absolutely loved (and devoured every last drop of) the turkey chili so I thought I'd share the recipe with you here. We lucked out and had most of the ingredients on hand. If you've succeeded in using up all your leftover turkey, don't fret, just pick up a package of ground turkey at the grocery store as the recipe suggests.

Turkey Chili with Poblano and Queso Fresco

Recipe from One Pan, Two Plates | Cook time: 20 minutes, Total time: 25 minutes | Serves 2

Ingredients

1 cup canned cannellini beans

1 tsp. ground cumin

Kosher salt

1/2 tsp. chili powder, plus more if needed

1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon

Pinch of cayenne pepper

Pinch of ground cloves

Freshly ground black pepper

1 tbsp. vegetable oil

1 small yellow onion, diced

1 large poblano chile, seeded, deribbed and diced

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 lb ground turkey

1 1/4 cups chicken broth, plus more if needed

Kernels from 1 ear corn or about 1/2 cup frozen corn, thawed

2 tbsp. sour cream (and more for topping, if you're like me)

1/2 cup crumbled queso fresco or farmer's cheese (shredded Cheddar works, too) *note: we didn't use queso fresco since I'm not a big cheese fan

1 tbsp. minced fresh cilantro (we used parsley since it's what we already had on hand)

Directions

1. Drain the cannellini beans, rinse well and drain again. Put the beans in a bowl and mash lightly with the back of a fork. Set aside. In a small bowl, combine the cumin, 1/2 teaspoon salt, chili powder, cinnamon, cayenne and cloves and season with black pepper. Set the spice mixture aside.

2. Heat a 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat and add the vegetable oil. When the oil shimmers, add the onion and poblano and sauté until they begin to soften, about 2 minutes. Add the garlic, spice mixture and turkey and cook, breaking up the turkey meat with a spoon, until the turkey is no longer pink, about 2 minutes. Add the chicken broth and mashed cannellini beans and stir to mix thoroughly; the beans will thicken the chili. Reduce the heat to low and simmer the chili for about 5 minutes to allow the flavors to blend. If the pan gets dry, add a little more broth or water.

3. Stir in the corn and sour cream. Taste the chili and add more salt, pepper or chili powder if it needs it. If you like corn on the crunchy al dente side, remove the chili from the heat now, but if you like your corn soft, continue to simmer it for another minute or two.

4. Ladle the chili into shallow, warmed bowls and top with the queso fresco and cilantro. (I put an extra large dollop of sour cream on mine.) Serve hot.

Optional, if you're extra hungry: Serve with your favorite tortilla chips. Great crumbled on top or when used to scoop up the chili.

Every recipe in "One Pan, Two Plates" includes a wine pairing, which may be the other reason I love the cookbook so much. Here's the recommendation for the turkey chili:

There are a few directions you could go when pairing wine with this dish. There's Joseph Drouhin Beaujolais-Villages if you want to go red, and for the white lovers, a Chablis from the same producer would do just as well. Then there's always the classic beer and chili one-two.

Personally, we had an open bottle of Pinot Grigio in the fridge so we made do. The chili is spicy (but not overwhelmingly hot) so something light and refreshing, whether it be wine or beer, seems like a good choice to me.

The hubs and I look forward to cooking many more "One Pan" meals. This white chili was our fifth foray. Previously we had made the cover dish (above), Flank Steak with Chimichurri and Summer Squash Hash (the chimichurri was divine; I wished there was more!), Jambalaya with Chicken, Shrimp and Andouille Sausage (below), and Flash-Roasted Tilapia with New Potatoes, Peas and Pesto Mayonnaise. Also, G took inspiration from the cookbook's three frittata recipes one morning and whipped up a one-pan breakfast.

If you're part of a twosome and looking for a new cookbook, I'd highly recommend picking up a copy. Available online now at Barnes & Noble and Crate & Barrel (temporarily out of stock at Amazon).

Next, I'm thinking we should try the Prosciutto-Wrapped Salmon with Corn and Poblano Succotash (pictured below). Yum.

(Top image via The Kitchn, bottom image via Cleveland)

On Thanksgiving Traditions

Like many people, I've been thinking a lot about Thanksgiving the past couple weeks. It started out with excitement. I sat down with G and planned out our menu, what dishes we love and had to have. It ended up being quite the dinner for two average-sized people. But I figured, it's Thanksgiving, the national eat-all-you-can-eat holiday, so what the heck? We'll roast the bird, whip the spuds, and make six more side dishes. Plus pie. You can't forget the pie.

But the closer we get to the day, now only a week away, the more the excitement has given way to what was hiding underneath all those plans: a bit of sadness and a tinge of loneliness.

*****

This will be our first holiday as a married couple and it will be just the two of us. Our families and friends are not coming out to visit, and neither are we hopping on a plane to the West Coast. It simply isn't practical or feasible financially. At first I relished the thought of Thanksgiving (and Christmas) being just the two of us this year. No family drama to contend with. No deciding whose house to go to. The holidays would be quiet, intimate and special. We would start our own traditions, together, as husband and wife.

Growing up, G (who is an only child) and his parents often spent Thanksgiving at a relative's home, where the food and the activities of the day varied (sometimes greatly) from year to year. So as a result, he doesn't feel like he has a specific set of traditions that are important or meaningful to him to carry on. I, on the other hand, do. Though, I sort of grew up with two different holiday season experiences.

When I was very young, my extended family used to all gather at my maternal grandfather's house. A long table, probably 20-feet, would be set up for all of us. My mom, always a frazzled mess in the kitchen, would do much of the cooking, with some help (good and bad) from her brothers and sister. My paternal grandmother, Grandmama, would bring her chocolate pie, which I absolutely loved of course. It was like chocolate pudding in a crumbly graham-cracker crust. What's not for a kid to love? Once dinner was ready, all the adults would sit down at the world's longest table while us youngsters had our meal at the children's table in the kitchen, listening in through the wall as the grown-ups talked, invariably getting into some kind of argument, which is bound to happen when large families with large personalities come together. Those were the Thanksgivings of my childhood. Trade out all varieties of pie for rice pudding, add some carols and dancing around the Christmas tree while holding hands (seriously), and that was my Christmas.

But death changed things over the years. Grandmama went first, then my grandfather, whose home brought us all together. Our large family gatherings turned into small dinners with my immediate family, and sometimes my favorite uncle, at our home. When my older brother died the holiday dinners got even smaller, and much sadder for a time. Those were the Thanksgivings and Christmases of my teenage and college years.

It sounds depressing, and it is in some ways, but nevertheless I find myself wishing I could be home for the holidays. There were a couple years where I didn't spend Thanksgiving, or Christmas, with my family but instead with a boyfriend's family. But even then there was still the option of going home, or stopping by for a few hours. This year that option isn't there. And it likely will not be an option in many of the years to come.

I've always done my best to be home for the holidays because I hate the thought of my mom, my dad and my younger brother just sitting around the table by themselves. Perhaps it is a stupid and self-important thought but sometimes I feel like I'm my family's "glue." On holidays I help in the kitchen. At the table, they turn to me to say grace. My younger brother and my parents have not always had the best relationship, though it is getting better, and he can be quiet morose on holidays (he doesn't appreciate the expectation to pretend like everything is happy and perfect when he feels the opposite, and I don't really blame him). I'm not sure he is even going to go home for Thanksgiving, even though he lives just 20 minutes away. He may have to work or he just may not go, for the above stated reasons. So then it would just be my mom and my dad. Kind of like how it will be here. Just the two of us.

*****

The plan for this post was to talk about Thanksgiving traditions. Keeping old ones, starting new ones. Instead I find myself clinging onto the old, even when the past was far from perfect. It's funny how distance can make you miss the things you didn't even know you cherished. Life is forcing me to change, to let go, and I'm a bit unwilling.

I'm hoping this purging of my thoughts and emotions will help with that letting go part, and let me get back to what I was feeling a few weeks ago: excitement. 

Initially, I told G that I wanted us to roast a turkey, a whole one, but yesterday I cooly informed him it was silly to spend the time and money (we'd need to buy a roasting pan and rack) doing something we have no idea how to do, only to be left with way more leftovers than we probably can handle. So now the plan is to simply make a turkey breast. And, having thought about it a little more, I'm OK with that. I actually like the idea of saving the big roasting of the turkey for when we do host a Thanksgiving dinner for family or friends or both, or when we have a little one whose eyes will widen at the sight.

We'll still make most of those side dishes. Mashed potatoes and stuffing are a given, but I also must have my mom's sweet potato puree and G loves green bean casserole. And we'll shove all the pies we're accustomed to having (apple, pumpkin and pecan) into one with this crazy recipe. Maybe it will be our new favorite, and a new tradition.

In the meantime, until next Thursday, I'm going to cut myself some slack. Our first Thanksgiving doesn't have to be an extravaganza. Small can still be special, and whatever we do this year does not need to be repeated forevermore. The best traditions often come about slowly and by accident, without even realizing a tradition has been made. And new traditions will be added throughout the years, as life changes-- because it certainly always does.

(Top image via The Kitchn, bottom photo from our engagement session, by heidi-o-photo)

Six Months a Mrs.

G and I have been married six months today. It's kind of hard to believe, in some ways it feels like the wedding wasn't that long ago. And yet, I can believe it, because so much has happened in those six months. 

That whole moving across the country thing, then finding out we're not going to be here as long as we thought... Welcoming a new fur baby into the family... Struggling to find a job (not to mention local friends)... Pursuing new creative outlets... 

It's been a bit of a bumpy ride, for both of us, though I think we'd also both agree the transition has been tougher for me. And yet, there is no one else I would rather be on this ride with. My husband loves me through my moods and my insecurities. He encourages my dreams. He supports me in my highs and my lows. He tells me I'm beautiful when I feel ugly. He cooks dinner for us almost every night. He is probably a better man than I deserve. Our relationship isn't perfect and I think most newlyweds, if they're honest, will admit that the post-wedding period isn't a non-stop honeymoon. Especially when thrust into the midst of so much change.

We are not perfect, but I like to think we are perfectly imperfect for each other.

I have no doubt the next months and years will hold many more ups and downs, but I feel blessed and lucky to know that I will have G by my side through it all.

Today, the words spoken during our wedding ceremony, when our hearts and lives were bound together forever, are playing back in my head:

May these hands be blessed this day. 

These are the hands of your best friend, full of love for you. 

These are the hands that will work alongside yours, 

as together you build your future, your family. 

These are the hands that will cherish you through the years, 

and with the slightest touch, will comfort you like no other 

when the storms of life break ashore. 

These are the hands that will wipe away the tears from your eyes; 

tears of sorrow, and tears of joy. 

And these are the hands that even when wrinkled and aged, 

will still be reaching for yours.

I'm sure my hubby would smirk at the utterance that today is our "six-month anniversary" but it is kind of wonderful reflecting on this moment half-a-year ago, the commitments and promises made. These words, these memories, fill my heart with joy and remind me where this crazy journey all began... and where it's going.

(Photos by heidi-o-photo)

The 5 Love Languages : Knowing Yours & Speaking Your Partner's

Do you know your love language? A recent post on one of my favorite blogs reminded me of the Gary Chapman book, “The 5 Love Languages,” that I read in high school. Even though I could remember my love language, per the book’s test, I decided to take the quiz again to make sure—perhaps the way I feel most loved and appreciated had changed in the past decade.

So I took the 30-question survey and found that while some things change, many things stay the same—my love language being no exception.

My primary love language is Words of Affirmation, which was not really a surprise in high school but now that I know myself (and myself in relationships) even better, it’s definitely no surprise today. Hearing “I love you,” “I’m proud of you,” “I appreciate you,” etc., are definitely the things that mean the most to me. I enjoy a thoughtful gift, quality time together or my hubby doing the dishes, but I feel most loved when he tells me he loves me. And it really sends me over the moon if he tells me why. Perhaps it’s the writer in me, but loving words and frequent, intimate communication is what satisfies me emotionally and fills up my love tank. Even when GT and I fight (our “fights” are more serious discussions than screaming matches), I feel more connected to him and more positive about our relationship because we’ve expressed and talked about our feelings, good or bad.

As I did 10+ years ago, I also scored highly in Physical Touch, making it my secondary love language. For me, it’s non-sexual physical touch that is most meaningful. I get warm, fuzzy feelings when GT holds my hand, strokes my hair or gives me a kiss on the forehead, and when we cuddle on the couch while watching TV. Those simple actions make me feel safe and cared for. It’s nice to know someone wants to be around you and close to you, especially when the endgame isn’t getting you into bed. I think I made mistakes in past relationships because I longed to simply be held—and that led to giving too much away. Of course, sex is a happy part of my marriage, but a good morning kiss or a hug when I’m sad is just as beneficial to my relationship as a romp in the sack. (I’m a little embarrassed writing that knowing my mother reads this blog but, oh well! Keeping it real.)

Many couples can face conflict when each person speaks a different love language. It’s natural to show love the way that you feel loved, but that’s not always the best way to make your partner feel appreciated if they don’t share the same love language.

I kindly asked my husband to take “The 5 Love Languages” test (that guy, he’s a trouper, it took hardly any convincing!) and fortunately, and somewhat surprisingly, we share the same love language. We didn’t have the exact same results, but we both had top scores in Words of Affirmation, with Physical Touch as a close second. We are lucky in that the way we feel most loved is often how we show love, too. Nevertheless, it is helpful to be aware of that fact. As much as I desire loving words from my husband, he needs to hear kind, encouraging and positive words as well. And if I want to hold hands or cuddle, I shouldn’t be upset if he isn’t reading my mind—he actually may be waiting for me to make the first move!

Chapman explained the importance of knowing and understanding your love language best:

Knowing how you prefer to be loved is important for your relationship. It’s romantic to think your partner should just know how to love you—but it’s also a bit unrealistic, and can even be unfair to expect something from your partner if you’re not willing to tell him/her how you prefer to be loved and appreciated in your relationship.

Have you heard of “The 5 Love Languages” and do you know yours and/or your partner’s? If you take the quiz (for couples and for singles), I’d be interested to hear your results and reactions. Relationships can be hard and certainly take work, and I look at this as just another tool we can use to make sure we are being the best loving partners we can be.

(Top and bottom images from my wedding, taken by heidi-o-photo. Second image from my 5 Love Languages profile.)

Newlywed Nesting : In Need of Knobs

[This is our bedding, not our bedroom. We even have that sweet little Ikat pillow. But I'm coveting the floral sculpture hanging above. Isn't it beautiful?]

After moving in almost two months ago, our cozy one-bed, one-bath apartment is pretty much squared away. We just need a few finishing touches in our "master" bedroom.

Even though we lived together for a year before tying the knot, decorating our bedroom became very important after we got married. I felt we needed a space befitting a married couple. One with style. One with matching bedding. It's the little things.

That's why we put our old queen bed in storage and finally set up the king bed frame we had purchased from Ikea months and months and months ago. Seriously, probably more than a year ago, I can't even remember anymore. And we whipped out the fancy-schmancy bedding that was still folded up, unopened, in its packaging (since we didn't have the king bed or mattress to put it on).

With a plush, memory foam mattress purchased, as well as an equally-cushy comforter (thank you, wedding present gift cards to Bed, Bath & Beyond), we were ready to go. Setting up the bed (that matches our dresser), buying soft, plum-colored sheets that perfectly complement our duvet set, putting it all together and then climbing into the freshly-made sleeping sanctuary... It was a heavenly feeling. We finally had a grown-up and pretty place to lay our heads.

Since then, I've been able to turn a little corner of the room into a thoroughly-girly-yet-organized space just for me (and all my jewelry). No longer are my bits and baubles strewn all over the top of the dresser. 

And, because I had gone long enough without a nightstand (while my hubs had one, the nerve!), we picked up a pair from Ikea that match the rest of our bedroom furniture. I'm usually not one for matchy-matchy and truly what I wanted to do was score some vintage nightstands at a thrift store or flea market. We looked around a little but in the end sold out for cheap convenience. Damn that Ikea. I love/hate you.

For contrast, I chose white nightstands (our bed frame and dresser are black-brown). The white helps lighten up the space, plays off the mostly white/gray/taupe color palette of our bedding AND gives me the option of easily painting the little tables should I ever get bored and want a pop of color.

Which leads to me the title of today's post: I'm in need of knobs. I'd like to add a little interest to these simple, streamlined side tables. That fancy-schmancy bedding (side note: it really does feel luxurious) we bought has a few soft purple-pink blooms scattered about, so I'm leaning towards one of these four options. Which is your favorite?

Clockwise: Swirled Geode Knob in Pink // Feather Imprint Knob // Druzy Quartz Knob in Pink // River Reflection Knob in Pink

I love Anthropologie's selection of knobs. They are unique and not too expensive, allowing you to switch up the look of furniture or cabinets whenever you like. Especially when you're only in the market for two. I'm leaning toward the geode knobs for our new nightstands. I adore their organic feel. It's like jewelry for your furniture! I'd love to change out the pulls on our dresser, too, but that would be a much larger investment since there are 12 knobs. The hubs will make me wait on that :)

It's funny how important creating a space that feels like "ours" has become. Must be that newlywed nesting syndrome. I know we'll only be in this apartment for a short time and it will likely be years until we firmly set down roots anywhere due to GT's job. Nevertheless, it's nice to have that "home, sweet, home" feeling when you walk in the door. Or, in this case, when you doze off to dreamland at night.

Do you have a newlywed nesting tale to share? Did you feel the desire to redecorate after getting hitched? I'd love to hear!

P.S. Today is the last day for 20% off hardware (such as knobs!) at Anthropologie. Gotta get on that! (Myself, included.)