10.01.2017

Hace Calor


Where does the time go? To me, it always seems there is never enough of it. During the work day. On the weekends. Especially, when on holiday. A girlfriend sent a text message this morning alerting me to a new month. Impossible I responded but she was correct. Like clockwork, nanoseconds later an alert came through on social media that Christmas is only 85 days a way. Geepers cats, life, I command you, please slow down. 

Time falling like sand between my fingers aside, I love Octobers. My birthday. The anniversary of our engagement. Changing seasons, the need for a cardigan in the evenings, brilliant sunsets and a stunning array of foliage. Since leaving Germany, I have made a tradition of visiting New York City in October. Once upon a time, during my single days (well, years really) I always celebrated my birthday in the Big Apple. From 28 through 30, at least. My 30th was epic, but that's another story for another day. Beginning with 31 years of age, Matthew came along to partake in #howtobreyer. Folks have returned home from summer weekends in the Hamptons, the days close earlier inviting the sparkling lights and the city is deliciously alive. And so, the established custom continues; we depart on Thursday. On this first day of October, let the record show, I am typing this with all the windows open, and it is most glorious indeed. 

Nevermind the introduction of a new season, our summer simply flew by and it was certainly not without a solid dose of action. Nearing towards the end of May, we decided - after much thought, deliberation and a fair dose of heartache - to put our beloved house on the market. I told Matthew packing up, moving and onto greener pastures would be a romantic exercise. A very first for us as a married couple. How very misguided I was. The journey to market entailed a fiery, furiously fast handful of weeks comprising creating lists, organizing, bubble wrapping, selling, ripping out bushes, planting new ones, pruning, hedging, sanding, pressure washing, watering, painting, shouting, making boxes, taping boxes, wrapping endless pieces of crystal, purging, muttering under breaths, sweating, cursing, a bit of crying, smiling, laughing, reminiscing, remembering, embracing, hand holding, popping bottles (yes, a move of this size and at this speed required multiple bottles) and then some. 

We hosted a yard sale one Saturday morning. Circa 6.00 a.m., a gentlemen pulled up as we were clearing out the house and neatly organizing our piles across the driveway. The sale didn't begin for another three hours. I politely told him we were not yet ready for business. He inquired if I had any clothes to sell. I informed him the day before I had dropped four bags off of Good Will. A shame, he said, and went on to outline that he buys women's clothes for top dollar. I asked him to demonstrate how he calibrates his numbers and he pulled up an app. I saw a scarf identical to the one ripe for the pile, ran into the house and emerged with three, and two very tired albeit "gave me many years of happiness" handbags. He paid top dollar for all five. Not even 7.00 a.m. and the sale was off to an outstanding start. Over the course of the day, we cautiously welcomed an excited motley crew of sorts. Come 2.00 p.m., we ordered a pizza not to be shared on the front porch and at the strike of 4.00, we were utterly spent. Great success, but a first and a last. In short, never again.

Two days after we decided to list the house, we befriended a local gardener who promised to transform the front and back of Reynolds Ranch. He uprooted bushes that made friends with the earth below some 50 some odd years before. This exercise required a pair of attempts - including a borrowed industrial tool from a friend - to unearth the stubborn vines. Once removed, the house looked entirely different. In their places, he planted a Breyer favorite, boxwoods. I love walking with my father who always stops to smell boxwoods and speak to his fondness for them. With new bushes in place, it was recommended that some major pruning be next on the docket. And so, he used foreign tools to remodel all our landscaping in the front. Did we like it? 

Absolutely we responded. Did we want a splash of color? But of course, we said. Let's just get this show on the road we thought. How about red, he asked? Yes, and so he planted 80 impatiens. Upon seeing the back, he spoke to it being a destination of it's own, but did we mind were he to do as he saw fit. You're the guru we sang in unison. We returned home to our once emerald jungle, which was now an expertly manicured paradise. Our roses had shape, we could see the outlines of trees. A true marvel. We were so enchanted that for the first time - we moved chairs out to the backyard, and asked each other, are we doing the right thing in selling, and more importantly - I suppose a question many who are readying their house for sale ask - why in the world didn't we do this sooner?

Next up was the back deck. Another sanctuary in need of some serious TLC. We found a seasoned fellow who arrived in an old, rusted maroon truck and between Marlboro reds as well as sordid tales of his past lives, brought our back deck back from the near dead. He replaced wood, brought out the sander, followed by the pressure washer, hammered in new nails, glossed paint and the likes. Again we asked marveling at the beauty of it, are we doing the right thing? We were. 

The little ranch style home sold quickly. And so, on the eve before closing, we returned to Reynolds Ranch, and took a seat on the new wooden stairs. The back porch, where our relationship took shape over many Friday afternoons post-work. A place where Matthew, after three weeks of dating, invited his friends over for a cookout to meet me. A place where we hosted a 'stay until 3.00 a.m. and eat late night cake' engagement party for my sister, Michelle, and her husband, Mike, and some three years later held our nephew Trey for the first time. A place where we hosted our South African family to a cookout on the eve of our wedding weekend. A place that served as host to countless summer gatherings, birthday parties, holiday soirees with the roaring fire pit, comprising our very best friends. And that very back deck, which saw many a cookouts, al fresco dinners and spaces for naps, conversations, big decisions, celebrations and the likes for just the two of us. In short, our favorite place in our home.

These long planks of wood were host to the first of manys for my Matthew and me. And so, circa 8.00 p.m., we opened a bottle of champagne saved from our wedding, poured two glasses, toasted a very happy home of more than 9 years, thanked it for the memories, and before we could grow too weepy, turned off the porch lights, locked the front door for the very last time, and walked away with the most wonderful of memories behind us. It is our hope that this very happy little home, the place where so many halcyon memories were made, gives its next owner as much love, enjoyment, delight and special memories as it did for the two of us.

Now that a new season is upon us, many of us are comforted by food that nourishes the soul and warms us from within. And so, nothing fits the bill better than soups, chilis and stews. The below is a favorite of my husband, Matthew. Quick to pull together, and with the chilies, most warming indeed. This is also a lovely meal for an easy, mid-week dinner party. Serve with corn bread, tortilla chips, guacamole, pinto beans and set up a garnish bar. Happy October, and happy cooking.

Chicken Tortilla Soup

You Need

The soup:

2 organic chicken breasts
Extra virgin olive oil
2 tsp cumin
1 tsp chili powder 
1 tsp ancho chili powder
1 tsp garlic powder
Kosher salt
1 white onion - chopped
4 cloves of garlic - chopped
1 green bell pepper - chopped
1 red bell pepper - chopped
2 cups kale - chopped
2 cups butternut squash - cubed
1/2 cup of frozen corn 
Bunch of cilantro - chopped
10 oz can rotel tomatoes / green chilies
2 quarts organic low sodium chicken stock
3 TBS tomato paste
*Optional - 1 can of black beans

To garnish:

Chopped avocado
Chopped cilantro
Sour cream or my favorite substitute, full fat Greek yoghurt
Diced red onions
Quartered limes
Grated cheese 
Tortilla chips

Let's Boogy

Mix your spices in a small bowl and sprinkle half on your chicken. Bake for 30 minutes. Once cooled, shred the chicken.

Heat some olive oil in a large vessel on medium high heat (I use my big birtha Le Creuset). Add your onions, garlic, bell peppers. Cook for around 5 minutes or until the goodies soften. Now, add the remainder of your spices from the small bowl, along with your shredded chicken. Mix nicely. Now is the time to add some generous pinches of kosher salt.

Pour in the can of tomatoes, squeeze in your tomato paste, empty both containers of stock, add the kale, squash and cilantro. Mix until uniform. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to simmer. I let this ride for around an hour. Taste, add more salt if necessary, and voila. Ladle up, add your toppings and go to town. 


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