Paris Weekend - 1st Anniversary

My apologies for the momentary hiccup in communications. Brent and I were house-sitting in a great big huge house in Santa Clarita last week, and for the entirety of the time we were there we could not get my laptop, with my pictures-to-post, connected to the internet. So there's my excuse for not posting.

Brent and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary early in January. It all started on Christmas morning when I opened up my gift from Brent. It was a white plastic Phantom of the Opera mask, and as I took it out of the box the main theme from the play Phantom of the Opera was playing in the background. Brent informed me that my Christmas gift/our anniversary celebration would consist of dashing away the following weekend to Vegas to stay in the Paris Hotel, eat at the Eiffel Tower Restaurant, and go see the Phantom of the Opera at the Venetian. I know, I know, he's amazing, isn't he?

When I got to know Brent and found out that he liked Las Vegas and wanted to take me there someday, it took a bit of getting used to. After all, I grew up in a pretty conservative family, and the general emotion that arises in my heart upon hearing the words "Las Vegas," thanks to my parents, is, "Eeww."

When Brent explained to me that Vegas can be fun and clean because you can stay in luxurious, themed hotel rooms for relatively cheap (thanks to the hotel managers who figure that of course you're going to spend a fortune in the casinos), many of the shows are above reproach, the food is awesome, and the shopping a blast, I came to the conclusion that I would like to join my husband to Vegas someday.

This anniversary get-away that he planned was the perfect first exposure for me, I think.

We arrived early Saturday afternoon and drove down the busy, trafficy strip. The sights of the hotels are breathtaking, and the over-the-top decorations of stores and restaurants are really entertaining after you've been driving through barren desert for who-knows-how-many-hours. We did, however, have to declare that billboards would not be looked upon. *wink*

The media-familiar ginormous Hard Rock Cafe Guitar.

We arrived at the hotel and went to our room to freshen up and get all glitsy for our night out on the town. We grabbed a quick snack at a little restaurant in Paris to tide us over till our 10 pm reservation at the Eiffel Tower Restaurant.

Did I mention these sweet people got to come with us? They were such a blessing to have with us.

Brent and me all glitsed-up and ready for a snack.

This is what it looks like when you're sitting in a restaurant and you can't wait for what you just ordered.

Bruschetta

and French onion soup.

After our snack we stepped out of the Paris hotel to wait in line for a taxi. This was our view from the line.

When we arrived at the Venetian and stepped out of our taxi, I felt like a celebrity, like any moment I was going to be blinded by flashes of light from paparazzi waiting for me to arrive. After I walked a few feet away from the cab I came back to reality and recognized that every girl must feel that way when she steps out of a taxi at a grand hotel in Vegas. You wouldn't know what I'm talking about unless you've experienced it.

Walking the hall of the Venetian in search of the Phantom Theatre.

The glitsy outfit I chose for Vegas.

We found the Theatre! (And a $10 program!)

The inside of the breath-taking theater as you wait for the play to begin.

The play was fantastic. It produced heart-fluttery sensations at the romantic parts, and a certain tenseness at the scary/creepy parts. The entire play was full of eye-candy; the sets were gorgeous and the dancing and singing inspiring. Though I had never seen the play, I knew the soundtrack well and it took some effort on my part NOT to spring out of my seat, NOT to dash to the stage, NOT to join the cast in the song and dance performance, NOT to nudge the lead actress out of her spot and carry on as Christine myself. I don't think they or the audience (or my husband) would have appreciated that if I hadn't restrained myself...though a certain amount of satisfaction would have amounted in me had I indulged myself that night. Glad I didn't, though.

Brent and I hurried to our room after the play to drop a few things off before dinner, and this is the view that awaited us from our window.

Our view from our window-seat at the Eiffel Tower Restaurant.

The Eiffel Tower Restaurant is by far the most romantic restaurant I've ever been to. Or maybe I was just in a super duper romantic mood. Either way, it was the most romantic meal we'd ever eaten together, and our waiter with his authentic French accent just added to the perfectness of it all.

My dinner.

I ordered the seared duck. During my first year as a married woman I have tried three new foods: cavier, duck, and calf liver. Duck is the only one I enjoyed. But enjoyed is such an understatement for the taste experience I had that night in the Vegas Eiffel Tower. This duck tasted like a steak, but it had a hint of the homey-goodness of poultry in each bite as well. I raved and raved and raved about my duck with each bite that I took, while poor Brent accustomed himself to the fact that he had orderded fish (?).

Quote from Brent: "When you go to a fancy restaurant, never order the fish."

Potatoes Au Gratin. This dish opened my eyes to the wonder of deliciousness found in potatoes au gratin. The only other au gratin potatoes I've ever had have come from a box and remind me of potato chips and cheese-wiz. But THESE were sophisticated and wonderful.

Brent's view during dinner.

Our waiter brought us a complimentary dessert, a tiny chocolate mousse. It was the PERFECT finish to our wonderful meal.

We went to bed that night so thankful to God for our first year of marriage, thankful at the thought of many more years at each others' sides, and thankful that He had blessed us with such a special weekend getaway.

The next morning I couldn't sleep past 6 am, even though I hadn't fallen asleep till well after midnight. I got up, took a shower, got myself all cute, and moseyed downstairs for a bit of shopping. I got stuck in a little French bakery that I found. I ordered some tea and a pastry that I had set my sites on the day before. It had a really cool French name, until I found out later that it was translated into English simply as "doughnut." But man oh man, the French know how to do donuts! It's pretty safe to say it was the best donut I've had in my memory. The outside was dense and sweet, though it seemed to melt in my mouth, and the inside was filled with a vanilla custard.

The healthy way to start the day.

Later Brent and his parents joined me downstairs and we did a bit of shopping while we waited for our brunch buffet to open. (Brent had been talking ALL of the previous week about this brunch buffet that he's been to once before, I think it was the event he was most looking forward to during our time in Vegas.) After I ate my donut I felt really guilty that I had done so because under normal circumstances, with my stomach condition, that would have ruined my appetite until about 3 o'clock in the afternoon. And Brent and his parents wanted to eat at 10 am...uh-oh is right. Thankfully, by the time brunch came around, God had prepared for me an appetite. Such a blessing because most of Brent's joy in an experience is being able to see MY joy in the experience. If I hadn't eaten at the buffet, he wouldn't have enjoyed his food as much.

My love and me.

The place where we ate.

Waiting in line for the buffet and bearing the growling of stomaches with grins.

Fun with the camera while waiting in line.

So the food at the buffet was excellent. There was a massive amount of variety. I went through all of the different stations and got a little bit of everything that caught my eye, and then had one bite of each sample that I had put on my plate. My favorites: eggs benedict (you can't beat French hollandaise sauce), apple-filled crepe, and french bread with cheese. Oohh, the cheese. Like butter. So creamy. So rich. So satisfying.

During one of his runs through the food stations, Brent picked this up for me because he thought it looked cool.

This is what the Tylers look like when their bellys are full and content.

After brunch, we shopped till we literally wanted to drop, and I wanted to remove my feet from my body and, further, apologize to them for wearing high-heeled boots all day in Vegas.

The inside of the Paris Hotel.

1 year anniversary.

And then we went home, ready to begin our second year together!

The Pie of My Dreams

I am a bit obsessed with Nora Ephron's movie Julie & Julia. It's almost embarrassing the number of times I've watched it since Thanksgiving. I never get tired of it, rather, I genuinely laugh at the funny parts, choke up at the sentimental parts, and, of course, salivate at the numerous food parts EVERY TIME I WATCH IT. To me its not surprising that I've taken to the movie so whole-heartedly. I must say, I've become quite the amateur little foodie, being that as a new wife I have cooked ten times more in the past year than I have in my entire life. Brent comments about three times a week that I sure do like to try new recipes! And I do! And actually, so far, of all the sources I've found for recipes, Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking is a sure fire way to get a delicious dish even from your own kitchen (as long as you are patient to follow all of her explicit instructions).

I could go on and on about how much I love Julia Child's cookbook, but that's not what this post is about.

About a week ago it was time for me to do some work around the house, and one of the cool things I've picked up from my husband is to put a well-known movie on while doing housework...it makes the work all around more enjoyable. Anyways, I picked none other than Julie & Julia, and chose a route I had not taken before: I watched the commentary. I was washing dishes, I believe, at the part where Julie makes that fantastically smooth and rich-looking chocolate cream pie, and Ephron's comment was that the pie in the movie was HER OWN personal recipe! That day I searched online for her recipe, and found a fellow foodie-blogger who had tried and posted the recipe herself. I made it for a dinner party Brent and I had with our dear friends, Ben and Masha, last Friday. Hit, hit, hit, hit, hit. It was a hit. Especially the graham cracker crust...to some people. To me, the "hit" part of it was the rich chocolate cream filling. The chocolate cream pies I've tried before are good, but taste like milk chocolate. This one tastes like dark chocolate, the epitome of all chocolate tastes for chocolate-lovers around the world.

The Pie.

A satisfied girl content with the apparent success of her pie.

The recipe for the crust worked so well. I attempted my first graham cracker crust for a pumpkin icebox cake for Thanksgiving, and that particular recipe for crust from a Martha Stewart magazine did not bode well. Instead of crisping against the sides of the pie plate, it sludged down to the bottom of it, and responded to the heat of the oven like Yellowstone's paint pots. Too much butter, as I discovered later when I tried Ephron's recipe and it worked. In hindsight I should have kept the crust in the oven longer than I did, but I think my excitement that the crust was actually cooking in the right shape made me a little impulsive and I snatched it out of the oven before it was time. Nevertheless, the crust was buttery and rich and yummy. Though in my opinion, the dark chocolately-cream filling outshone the crust.

Without further ado, the recipe, copied word for word from www.sleeplessfoodie.com (the picture is Brent's, though).

Nora Ephron’s Chocolate Cream Pie

Makes 6-8 servings

For the crust:
6 tablespoons butter
11/2 cups graham cracker crumbs
1/4 cup sugar

For the filling:
3/4 cup sugar
3 tablespoons cornstarch
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 cups milk
4 ounces unsweetened chocolate, in pieces (I used Scharffen Berger)
4 slightly beaten egg yolks
2 tablespoons soft butter
1 tablespoon vanilla

For the whipped topping:
1 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 tablespoons sugar

Make the pie crust:
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Melt the butter in a small saucepan.
3. Combine the graham cracker crumbs and the sugar. Add the butter and stir to blend.
4. Press the mixture into a pie plate and prebake for 8-10 minutes. Cool thoroughly before filling.
Make the filling:
1. Mix the sugar, cornstarch, and salt and set aside.
2. Bring the milk to a boil. Lower the heat and stir in the chocolate and let melt.
3. Whisk the milk mixture into the sugar mixture and cook over medium heat, stirring with a wooden spoon until it starts to thicken.
4. Add the yolks and stir furiously for a very short time. You want the yolks to thicken the mixture even more but you don’t want them to curdle like little tiny scrambled eggs. Sometimes I do this for only 30 seconds or so.
5. Remove from the heat and stir more. Add vanilla and softened butter. Cover with waxed paper and cool.
“By the way,” Ephron says, “if the eggs do curdle, pour the pudding mixture through a sieve and throw away all the curdled bits. No one will know.”

[Hayley's interjection: Using a double boiler makes this part a cinch. No worrying about regulation of temperature or anything. Just get the water in the bottom boiling, turn the heat down to medium or medium-low, and the eggs will do fine as long as you stir continuously.]

6. Fill crust with pudding and refrigerate.
Make the whipped topping:
1. Whip cream until almost stiff. Add sugar and vanilla; beat until cream holds peaks. Spread on pie.
- Courtesy of Nora Ephron

Enjoy it, and let me know what you think!!

Parties, parties, parties!!!

Hosting is like one of my favorite things to do. Especially in my own place. I LOVE the home Brent and I have set up for ourselves in busy (sometimes scary) downtown Sherman Oaks. It's truly a haven for us, and we love to make our guests feel as though our home is a haven for them too. I can't even count the number of times we've had family or friends over for lunch or dinner this year, and it would probably take both hands to count the number of parties we've hosted as well. Hosting, making guests feel loved and comfortable, cooking, preparing pretty settings, it's just totally my thing.

So far I've come closer to mastering the art of hosting one or two guests at a time than hosting an entire party. As soon as a group of people tromps into my home, I feel as though I'm running around crazy for the entirety of the gathering getting food ready, getting people what they need, answering guests' questions, etc etc. And the beautiful, serene, calm and quiet home and setting I've spent an entire day preparing for the party becomes cluttered, crazy and messy at the snap of a finger, and it remains so until the last person has left.

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE having you guys over, for whatever. Random family gatherings, showers, birthday parties, Talent Show, love it love it love it! I'm simply rambling on about the fact that I wanna improve in the way of hosting larger groups of people.

When I was about 15, I think, a nice woman from my church hired me and another friend of mine to come stay in her kitchen during a party she was hosting. When we arrived at her home about an hour before the party, she gave us a run down on how the party was going to progress, what food she was going to serve when, how to wash certain dishes, where to put dishes when they were washed (making sure to keep dishes that were going to be used again during the gathering easily accessible). For the COMPLETE duration of her party, my friend and I were working furiously in the kitchen, serving up hot plates of food, cleaning dishes, etc. The host herself would glide into the kitchen with a dish to be washed or a little reminder to give one of us, and every time she entered, her demeanor spoke of how calm, cool and collected she was, and how much she was thoroughly involved with her guests and enjoying herself.

The first time I ever threw a party where food was served, I wished I could have afforded to pay some girls to be my kitchen helpers the entire time (and notice I specify girls, not kids, because, let's face it, a boy who does a thorough job with dishes is a rare gift of God...though I know many boys who do sincerely try...to no avail). When a host doesn't have kitchen helpers, she doesn't get to enjoy the party like she ought. Either the host herself is in the kitchen the entire time (rather than enjoying her guests) or her guests feel compelled to serve the host by being in the kitchen, and that makes a host feel torn (though grateful).

I threw two dinner parties over the holidays, and for both I made SURE that all of the food was prepared and all of the cooking dishes were cleaned and put away before the party started. So helpful. Why didn't I think of that before? The first was Heather's baby shower where I simply served a lot of little appetizers, very easy to prepare ahead of time and set out on a table for guests to come grab. The second party was the Annual Talent Show where I served enchiladas, cooked and assembled two days before the party, and put in the oven 45 minutes before it started. This way the party begins with a spotless kitchen and ends with a not-as-horribly-messy-as-you-would-think kitchen. Love the new method. Though I still fall in the trap of being busy for the entire party and not being able to sit and enjoy it. MUST figure out how to stay out of that one!

Enough about those boring kitchen logistics! I wanna talk creativity and cuteness now! Here are some fun pictures sampling a few of the parties I've done this year.

This was the table display for the Tylers' first party of the year, the Marriage Celebration. We hosted it on our one month wedding anniversary (or near it anyways, because of scheduling conflicts). We invited my two older siblings and their spouses.

We ate yummy snacks, played a game, made toasts to marriage, ate the top of our wedding cake and drank martinellis out of our wedding crystal champagne glasses. Looking back, it was so totally the CHEESIEST party of the year, but my supportive husband and sweet siblings bore with me. :)

This was a fun one. Masha's bridal shower. My mother-in-law let me borrow almost everything she owned but her kitchen sink in order to let me transform my home into a cutesy teahouse. It was BEAUTIFUL.

At one of my wedding showers, the hostesses had printed out pictures of Brent and me and had put them in really sweet little homemade frames, and gave them to me after the shower to take help me decorate my newlywed apartment. I appreciated it so much that I wanted to carry on the tradition with Masha's shower. When she saw the picture of Ben and her hanging on the wall in the entryway, she was just giddy. Even more so when I told her it was hers to keep.

The bride's table.

The other table.

An artsy-fartsy shot taken by my husband. (WHERE did the term "artsy-fartsy" originate? It's a horrible term.)

So I made these too-cute-for-words cookies with the help and wisdom of my mother-in-law, who is talented in everything involving a sweet tooth and artistic food. We used a fabulous sugar-cookie recipe that I'm sold on for the rest of my life, and for the smooth hard frosting, it's Royal Icing, with food coloring. When I thought up the idea for the shapes of these cookies, I was SURE I had come up with a novel idea that was going to allow me to open up a shop, get really popular and making mega dollars. But then I googled them. And found that I was definitely NOT the first with the idea.

Another picture with a homemade frame. I scattered the table holding the cookies and this picture display with bite size snickers, because Masha's favorite candy bar is snickers, and we have kind of a running joke about them. Also, if you're ever at a loss as to how to make a setting beautiful, flowers and a candle is a sure fire way to do the trick. Works like a charm.

I did a REALLY simple meal for the shower because it started only an hour after church and I wanted something that would be a snap of the finger to throw together before guests arrived. Tri-tip salad (with strawberries, raspberry vinaigrette, pecans and feta cheese...DELISH, even if they're unusual flavors to put together), and par-baked ciabatta bread from Trader Joes. Simple but wonderful.

And we had apple pie for dessert.

For Heather's baby shower, the theme was chicks, so Rita and I again made cookies, this time pastel yellow, pink and green chicks. Super cute.

My talented mother-in-law made an adorable baby shower cake. Heather can't eat wheat-gluten, and there were two other guests at that particular shower who couldn't eat wheat either, so Rita made the top layer gluten-free.

We decorated onesies and burp cloths at the shower in lieu of playing games.

All the guests stepped up to the creative plate and supplied Baby Girl #2 with precious things!

We had plenty of iron-ons, stencils and paints. Who knows what they would have turned out looking like if we had only had paints.

The hostess (aka, me). In the kitchen, surprise surprise.

The guest of honor. Doesn't she make a sassy pregnant lady?

Aw. Sissers.

Can't wait for the next party. It'll be a Valentine's Day one, complete with Monopoly, spaghetti and meatballs, and haikus.