life: 'stock the bar' shower

Here's a fabulous idea for a wedding shower. You can tuck it into the recesses of your memory and pull out if you ever find yourself hosting a shower. A Stock the Bar Shower. No sheet sets or mixing bowls at this party. Everyone brings a bottle of liquor as a gift to help the betrothed stock their bar. 

And that's exactly how Tony and I spent Saturday night, celebrating the upcoming nuptials of Mike and Jen, whose wedding is next month.

Isn't that a great idea for a shower theme? Especially if you're throwing a shower for your friends, want to host a co-ed affair, and want to steer clear of a traditional shower.

Drink up indeed! 

project: wedding guestbook

Jen came up with a cute idea for a non-traditional wedding guestbook -- a guest tree, if you will. It's poster of tree trunk and branches, and guests will use green and yellow ink pads to fill in the leaves with their fingerprints. 

So the two of us settled in for some DIY time Sunday afternoon to work on the poster. (Meanwhile, Tony and Mike decided they didn't have much to contribute to the project, so they split and spent the afternoon at Trusty's on Pennsylvania Avenue in Southeast.)  

Mike and Jen got the art board at Michaels for about $6, and we used acrylic paints, which dry fast. I made one practice tree and then painted the real thing freehand with the smallest brush I have. 

And here's the finished project, just waiting for the fingerprints! 

They plan to buy a 16-by-20 frame and matting and hang the tree in their house. I think it's a sweet symbol of them combining two families with their marriage. Looking forward to seeing the finished project!

things to do: tailgating & wallflowers

Here is the best advice I can give about how to have a fabulous time tailgating: Go with people who already know what they're doing. 

Tony and I went to the Nats game Saturday evening with one of his coworkers and his coworker's girlfriend. And as fun as it was to see the Nats dominate the Braves, tailgating was the highlight of the evening. The four of us pulled the car into a parking lot on M Street, popped the trunk, and unloaded a whole party. These guys have got tailgating down to a science. Portable tent to shield us from the rain. Folding chairs. Mini grill with mini propane tank. And then all the things you wouldn't necessarily think about ... wet wipes for your hands after dinner ... a separate Ziploc bag for utensils that touch raw meat. Impressive outfit. 

And here I present Tony's plate, which looks like it belongs in a gourmet restaurant, not necessarily a parking lot. Bison burger with bacon and cheese (upside down, oops), served on a toasted everything bagel. Fresh spinach salad with spicy slivered almonds. Salt and pepper kettle chips. 

Let me pause to talk about serving a burger on an everything bagel. I did not know what to expect. I mean, it sounded kind of weird. But I'm sold. It's something Tony's coworker said he just kind of discovered one day when he made burgers, and all he had to serve them on were everything bagels. I'm not sure I can go back to buns now. 

And also I present the photo below with a two-fold purpose. First, we sat on a Browns chair. Awesome. Second, that guy in the background, a fellow tailgater from across the parking lot, is going to the bathroom. Right there on M Street. For everyone to see. He deserves to be on the internet. 

So we got to the game in the fourth inning, witnessed the win, and then stuck around for the post-game concert with The Wallflowers. The setup was kind of awkward, being so far from the band, but it was definitely a rad bonus to the evening. They played some of their hits -- Sixth Avenue Heartache, One Headlight -- and also some of their new stuff. The Wallflowers are coming out with a new album in the fall, and they played a song called Devil's Waltz off of that album. And it was pretty good, less pop and more dark. It's not on the internet anywhere yet, so I can't go listen to it again and verify what I was thinking that night, but a couple of us commented that lead singer Jakob Dylan kind of sounded like his dad (Bob Dylan) in that song. 

The Wallflowers post-game concert was part of a series the Nats are putting on this summer. Next up: Third Eye Blind on Aug. 18.

dining out: kushi

Early last week, I made a dinner reservation for Friday at Kushi. And as soon as I made the reservation, all I could think about was sushi. Spicy rolls. Soft inari. Salty edamame. Expectations were through the roof. 

So when Friday rolled around, I hopped on the metro after work and met Tony at Kushi in Mt. Vernon Square. The meal did not disappoint. Kushi is the best sushi I've had in D.C.

I only made the reservation a few days before we went, which means we had to eat on the early side of the evening. Which worked out well for Tony because apparently they only bought 10 servings of squid legs for the evening, and Tony was able to order one of them. I don't know why someone would want to eat squid legs, but he did, and that's all he could talk about the rest of the night. Said squid legs: 

 

The squid legs were under the "wood grill" part of the menu, and Tony and I agreed that's the part of the menu that consistently has the best dishes. 

If you keep your eye on Living Social deals, I've spotted several $30 offers for $60 of food at Kushi. I'd recommend snapping it up. Tony and I went a little bit over our $60 deal, and we ate well. And make your reservation early.  

decor: vintage vases

I planted a variety pack of sunflowers in the spring, and they've all grown to a nice mix of sizes. I picked some of the smallest ones and put them in three white vintage bud vases. It's always nice to have fresh flowers in the house, especially ones you grew yourself.

I adore these vases. Before my wedding, my mom and grandma spent months looking around thrift stores and flea markets for these vases. They found hundreds of them, and my mom only spent a quarter or 50 cents on each of them. We ordered cream-colored roses from Sam's Club to put in the vases, and we put groupings of the vases, along with candles, on each of the tables.

The guests took most of the vases home, but I kept a few of them for myself. I have three of them on my mantle, and it's nice to incorporate a piece of our wedding into our decor.

And how's this for crazy. Tony and I were at an antique store in Maryland a few weeks ago, and I saw one of these vases -- for $13!

reader question: kale confusion

Dear Jessi,


My husband and I just signed up for a farm share. We absolutely love coming home with bags of fresh veggies every week, but we find ourselves stumped by one item: kale. So far we have added kale to soup, pasta, and a quiche, but we still have a fridge full of the stuff. Any fresh ideas?


Signed,
Superkaleifragilisticexpialidocious

Kale is one of those super foods -- chocked full of vitamins -- that's all the rage lately. That said, I have absolutely no idea how to prepare kale. I've always been a picky eater, and trying new things isn't my strong suit. I've been trying to convince myself for two years to try olives -- still haven't worked up the guts to do it.

However, Jen keeps her fridge stocked with the curly green leaf variety, so I asked her for some advice. Her top recipe? Kale salad, inspired by a salad she fell in love with at Rustik in Bloomingdale.

Kale Salad

• Kale, stems discarded
• Beets
• Celery 
• Fresh dill
• Goat cheese
• Almonds
• Vinaigrette dressing 

Toss the ingredients, and feel free to make substitutions or additions based on what you have in your fridge and pantry.

xo,
J

<3

Have a question for me? Shoot me an e-mail at rowhouseHOME@gmail.com. If I don't have an answer, I bet I know someone who does! 

the garden: sad squash dead

Ben asked me a few weeks ago how I rank myself as a gardener, on a scale of 1 to 10. I gave myself a 4. I've got the basics down. Plant it. Water it. Fertilize it. Weed it. Eat it.

But the more complicated stuff? Soil pH testing. Grow lights. Insect defense. I don't even know where to begin. And I'm not sure I'd even want to take my hobby to the next level and invest so much time and money into all of that. At some point that would defeat one of the best things about gardening: inexpensive food.

My latest garden failure? My yellow squash plant.

I started it from seed in the spring, and it was doing well in its pot. I harvested exactly one squash, if you remember. And then it got covered with these disgusting squash bugs. I tried to kill them with Sevin dust. (I know, I know -- don't lecture me about pesticides.) But in the end, the bugs won, the plant shriveled up and died, and I am sad.

I suppose I'll try again next year. (I still have an almost-full packet of seeds, after all.) Lesson learned? Apparently you have to pick the squash bugs off, one by one. So I'll have to kill those things as soon as I see them. (But let's be real. I'm not going to be touching any bugs. That sentence should read: "Send my husband outside to kill those things as soon as I see them.")

So I'm bummed about the squash. But at least I have about a dozen tomatoes in my kitchen window to remind me that my garden has had successes along with the failures!

dining out: the wine kitchen

On Saturday, the guys embarked on a camping trip for Mike's bachelor party. They stayed in a primitive cabin somewhere near Middletown, Md., along the Appalachian Trail, and they met three solo hikers who were making the great trek from Georgia to Maine. The whole thing sounded very manly. No indoor bathroom. No electricity. Campfire. Whiskey. Humidity. And Tony said there were wolf spiders.

The women, meanwhile, embarked on a classy day of pampering for Jen's bachelorette festivities. First stop: pedicures. I somehow got to be 29 years old without ever having had a pedicure. And while it was happening, all I could think about was the poor woman who was going to town down there. This is so weird, lady. So, so weird. But on the bright side, my feet are looking fabulous.

Next stop: shopping. We made our way west and had some retail success at the Leesburg outlets. I came home with two Banana Republic blouses ($12 each!), Nine West sandals, an Old Navy dress, and an OshKosh outfit for Baby O.

And then: dinner and wine. Jen had scoped out a wine bar and restaurant called the Wine Kitchen. It's a few miles from the outlets in historic downtown Leesburg, which is all kinds of cute.

The restaurant is small, and I felt as if I could have been eating in someone's home. The waiter was really talking up the local food on the menu. By all accounts, the wine and the food were terrific.

I especially enjoyed my herbed Parisian gnocchi, which is like Italian gnocchi, but it's made with flour instead of potatoes. I may have to dig up a recipe for this dish and try it at home sometime.

dining out: hard times cafe

If you find yourself in suburban D.C. and are hungry, let me recommend finding a Hard Times Cafe. Tony and I were in Northern Virginia on Friday evening for a happy hour, and beforehand we stopped to eat at the Hard Times in Springfield. The restaurants are meant to be reminiscent of cowboy chili parlors of the American West, which is a fun concept.

It's a local chain with restaurants mostly in suburban Virginia and Maryland. The Springfield location is in an unassuming strip mall.

I ate the vegetarian chili, which had a lot of flavor.

The atmosphere and service were nice, overall. Except for the smell. I'd forgotten just how gross it is to eat in a restaurant that still allows smoking. A law banned smoking in Virginia restaurants after 2009 -- with a few exceptions. A restaurant may have a smoking section if it has separate ventilation systems and if a door separates the two sections. So you can smoke at the Hard Times in Springfield. There's definitely a door between the two sections, but the entire restaurant still smells like stale cigarettes.

I can't remember the last time I ate in a smoking restaurant, and it made me really appreciate the laws banning it. It took me back to college, when we'd get home from the smoky bars and immediately stuff every pungent article of clothing into a laundry bag and tuck the bag into the back of the closet until laundry day.

I'm sure I'd go back to a Hard Times someday. But I'd definitely choose one of the non-smoking locations.

recipe: fried eggplant

Right on schedule, I got the first eggplant of the summer out of my garden Sunday.

I made it into a simple dinner of fried eggplant, topped with mozzarella cheese and served over spaghetti.

Now, I once made eggplant parmesan from Tony's aunt's recipe, which she got from his grandpa. It was delicious, but it required an entire Sunday afternoon to prepare, from salting the eggplant to making the homemade tomato sauce. Alas, I had neither the time nor the patience for so much cooking yesterday, and I didn't want to turn on the oven. So I whipped out my frying pan and prepared the eggplant in the second-best-way I know how.

Fried Eggplant

• 1 eggplant
• Flour as needed
• 2 eggs
• Breadcrumbs as needed
• Olive oil
• 3 to 4 servings of spaghetti  
• Jar of pasta sauce

Boil water, and cook spaghetti according to package.

Meanwhile, prepare the eggplant. Peel it, and slice it 1/4-inch thick. 

Put flour in one bowl. Beat eggs in another bowl. Pour breadcrumbs in yet another bowl. 

Coat each eggplant slice in flour, dredge in egg, and coat with breadcrumbs. 

Heat oil in large frying pan. Fry eggplant over medium heat until golden brown. Flip. Fry until light golden, then top with cheese and cover pan. Eggplant should continue frying to golden brown as cheese melts. I cooked the eggplant in two batches. 

Drain spaghetti when al dente. Return noodles to pot, and add pasta sauce as desired. Return pot to burner, and heat until pasta sauce is warm. 

Transfer spaghetti to plates and top with eggplant. Serves 3 to 4.

<3

From the archives:

recipe: roasted asparagus

the garden: broccoli harvest

So, apparently this is what broccoli looks like when it's growing: 

Maybe you already knew that. I had no idea. When I was in Ohio last month, my dad sent me home with a broccoli plant that he started from seed, which was a nice addition to my garden. I'm not sure it's a vegetable that I would grow again next year. It doesn't make a lot of sense to grow broccoli in my teeny tiny backyard because it takes up valuable real estate that I could be using for more prolific plants, like peppers and tomatoes. But it's been a fun experiment, and the broccoli itself is quite good when it's fresh. I harvested the broccoli last week, and already there's another head growing off the side of the stem, so hopefully we get some more out of this plant.

I had heard you need to wash homegrown broccoli in salt water to kill tiny little bugs that get in the florets. So I did.

But no little bugs floated to the surface, which means either (a) my broccoli was bug-free, or (b) my salt bath failed, and we ate the bugs. Either way, it was good!

things to do: maryland berry picking

It was 105 degrees Saturday, which would've been the perfect day to lock ourselves up inside the house and eat ice cream and while watching Netflix on the couch all day. Alas, we did not do that. Tony had planned to take me berry picking for my birthday, which just happened to fall during the heat wave, and not even a little sweat (OK, a lot of sweat) was going to get in the way. 

First stop: Butler's Orchard in Germantown, which is about 45 minutes from D.C. We got there just before the 8:30 opening to avoid the worst of the heat. Tony and I drove into the farm and parked, and a tractor shuttled us to the pick-your-own blueberry fields with all of the other pickers. 

Blueberries appear to be the big draw at Butler's, and the fields were teeming with pick-your-own laborers. The farm ran like a well-oiled machine, workers directed us to the tractor shuttle, directed us to the rows with the best picking, assigned us blueberry bushes from which to pick. I felt kind of like I belonged in a John Steinbeck novel.

As you may recall, I have made enemies with local birds after they ate my strawberries. I asked one of the workers how they keep birds away from their berries, and he told me they installed squawk boxes, which make loud noises the birds don't like. Seems like the perfect idea for a large-scale farm, but installing a squawk box would not be very neighborly of me, as we live so close to our neighbors.

Anyway, we then drove ourselves through the farm to the less-popular blackberry bushes, which we had pretty much to ourselves. About 20 seconds after I had popped a blackberry into my mouth, Tony said: "Um, don't eat any of these until we wash them." I looked over, and he was pulling the remnants of a bug out of his mouth, having just eaten an overripe berry covered in bugs. So that was gross. But he lived.

Also fun: pick-your-own flower fields:

Tony packed us a picnic lunch, which we ate in the car, as it was, you know, 105 degrees. And we then headed over to Homestead Farm a few miles away in Poolesville, where we picked our own peaches.

The house I grew up in had a peach tree in the backyard, so this farm brought back some memories. We had a lab, Pepper, and peach season was the best time of year for her: a steady stream of peaches, or "balls," would fall off the tree for her to play with. We said she lived so long because of all the peaches she ate in her life.

I'm pretty sure Tony chose to take me to this particular peach farm because they let you pet their farm animals: goats, chickens, sheep, cows. And this baby pygmy goat, which might be the cutest farm creature of all time.

We paid $2.49 a pound for the berries and $1.79 a pound for the peaches, but it was more about the experience than the cost. And I think we'll be having more pick-your-own produce adventures, especially in the fall when apples and pumpkins are ready!

Some of the blueberries and blackberries went into freezer jam that I made Sunday. And the rest of the berries and peaches are in the freezer, waiting to be turned into pies.

recipe: blueberry & blackberry jam

I came home from berry picking Saturday with pounds and pounds of blackberries and blueberries. (More on our adventures in berry picking tomorrow.) I froze most of the berries, but I saved some to make jam.

Tony's grandma and aunt make gobs and gobs of jelly every year, and it's always fantastic. But making jelly -- real jelly -- is a process that involves turning your kitchen into a mini chemistry lab and requires jars to be sanitized, fruit to be cooked, and packed jars to be boiled to prevent spoilage. 

So I skipped about 75 steps and made freezer jam instead, which turned out quite well. At first I was disappointed because it was not as thick as traditionally jelly, but it thickened perfectly overnight. The big difference between freezer jam and traditional jelly is that you can store freezer jam in the fridge short-term or in the freezer long-term -- but you can't store it in the pantry. 

Here's breakfast with the blueberry freezer jam: 

Freezer Jam

• 1 2/3 cups mashed blueberries OR blackberries
• 2/3 cup sugar
• 2 tablespoons instant pectin

Use a potato masher to crush the berries until you have 1 2/3 cups.

In a separate bowl, mix the sugar and instant pectin. 

Add berries to sugar mixture and stir for three minutes. Let set for 30 minutes. Each batch makes two half-pints, which can be refrigerated for three weeks or frozen for a year. 

dining out: district of pi

When the St. Louis pizza operation Pi opened its first shop in D.C. last year, my St. Louis friend Jennifer said I must try it. So when Tony and I sat down with Mike and Jen for my birthday dinner Saturday, I told everyone I was ready to be impressed and for this to become my new favorite pizza place in D.C. It didn't quite go as well as I'd hoped, although the food itself was good.

My biggest complaint is that it was uncomfortably warm in the front room, where we were seated. It was downright unpleasant. And I don't generally mind noisy restaurants, but this place was SO LOUD that we could hardly hear the waitress. Also, when the waitress went to box up the leftovers, she apparently had to throw two pieces away because she dropped them on the floor, and of course accidents happen, but then she gave us the check and charged us for the pizza she dropped. So ... it was kind of awkward, exasperated by the aforementioned sound issues ... but she ended up bringing a new check and only charging us for half of that pizza.

The food itself was quite tasty, though. I worked at a pizza place in high school, and we served deep dish pizzas with the sauce on top. Since then, I've been a big fan of sauce-on-top pizzas, but you hardly ever see that on menus, so I was happy that's how District of Pi serves its deep dish pies.

Pi also serves more traditional, thin-crust pizzas. I didn't have any, but Tony gave it an 8.5 out of 10.

So, we had good food -- but a less-than-good restaurant experience. Maybe I'll give District of Pi another shot someday, after enough time has passed and I've forgotten how unpleasant it is to eat hot pizza in an 84-degree restaurant.

the cat: cat grass

Tony came home with a cat in the fall of 2004. I was still in college and Tony, who was still my boyfriend then, was working at his first job. A coworker of his was giving away free kittens, and Tony decided he just needed to have a cat, sight unseen. Long hair or short hair, the coworker asked. Tony went with long. To this day, my vacuum and I curse that decision. 

The kitten rode on Tony's lap on the way home that night. I saw him and, without really giving it much thought, said we should name him Victor. He looks like a Victor. Tony hated it. But Mike and Pete, our roommates, seconded the name, and Tony got out-voted on his own cat's name. 

That night, Tony put Victor in the upstairs hallway, shut the bedroom doors, and blocked off the steps, so the kitten couldn't get into any trouble while we were sleeping. But the poor thing was scared and kept crying when it was time to go to bed, so Tony slept the whole night on the floor in the hall with Victor. The two of them have been best buds ever since. 

Now, it's been eight years, and Victor and I get along, but we've never developed a bond anywhere close to what he and Tony have. Seriously, how can I possibly compete with the guy who slept on the floor in the hallway? But I do try to win Victor over in little ways. Like planting cat grass. 

Cats like to have green in their diet, but it's hard for an indoor cat like Victor to get it. So I plant cat grass, which is actually oat seed, for him in a little pot. 

I leave the little pot  on the back patio. When I water my garden, I let Victor come out with me, and he makes a beeline to the cat grass. I keep it outside because he somehow makes a gigantic mess with it. And he also manages to make that pretty little pot look like a complete wreck:

I have two pots growing at a time. I put the first one on the ground, fully grown, for him to eat. That's when I plant seeds in the second pot on the picnic table, where Victor can't get it. By the time the second pot sprouts, the first post is totally destroyed. And it goes on and on. 

<3

From the archives: 

the garden: bird feeder

things to do: dulles air museum

If your brother-in-law is an aerospace engineer, and if said brother-in-law comes to stay with you for a long weekend, let me recommend taking him to the National Air and Space Museum near Dulles. He will love it. Trust me. Ian went bananas over it. Actually, I don't think British people go bananas; they're too reserved for that. But Ian did smile a lot.  

A co-worker of Tony's volunteers as a docent at the museum and agreed to come in Saturday afternoon to show us around. So Tony, Ian, and I piled into the car with Dr. V, a friend we met through my sister, and Dr. V's sister, Erin, who was visiting for the weekend, and the five of us made the 45-minute trek out to Dulles. 

I'm generally not someone who enjoys looking at airplanes. But honest, I enjoyed myself during our tour, and I stayed focused for two whole hours. This is the museum that houses the Enola Gay, the plane that dropped the Little Boy atomic bomb on Hiroshima. It's an emotional exhibit. 

The biggest crowd in the museum was at the Discovery space shuttle. Everyone in D.C. remembers that morning in April when the space shuttle flew over Washington. Super cool to see it up close and in person.  

And apparently we don't know exactly how fast or how high this reconnaissance plane, the SR-71 Blackbird, can travel because that's classified. But we do know that on its last flight it made it from LAX to Dulles in just over an hour. 

And this spacesuit amused me. NASA needed spacesuits that would put enough pressure on the astronauts' bodies, so their blood wouldn't start to boil, which apparently happens in space. NASA turned to a Playtex company to design the early space suits because they definitely are the experts on supporting and tucking.   

<3

From the archives: 

things to do: george bellows exhibit

recipe: fried squash

Hello there, squash. So nice to eat you. 

I picked the first squash from my garden this week, and Tony and I ate it as a side dish with our Fourth of July dinner. In true American fashion, I took this completely healthy vegetable ... and fried it. 

Fried Squash

• 1 medium yellow squash
• 1 egg
• 1/3 cup cornmeal 
• Salt and pepper
• Olive oil for frying

Slice squash to desired thickness, around 1/4-inch to 1/8-inch. Whisk egg in bowl, and dip squash into egg wash. In separate bowl, mix cornmeal, salt and pepper, and coat squash with cornmeal.  

Heat olive oil in large frying pan over medium heat, and fry squash until golden brown, a few minutes per side. Remove from frying pan and set on paper towels to drain excess oil. One medium squash will make enough for 2 to 3 people as a side dish.  

There's the finished product, accompanying burgers and potato salad.

<3

Tony and I took advantage of the mid-week holiday to catch up on Season 4 of True Blood on DVD. Then we made the best of the hot weather by going for a swim at Camille and Matt's place. Where we were greeted by Gibbs, who is a patriot indeed. 

After dinner, Tony and I walked over to Lincoln Park, where folks were setting off very large firecrackers right in the park, which was slightly alarming but also cool. We also had a pretty decent view of the Capitol building and the National Mall fireworks show. You can see both shows in this photo:   

Happy Fourth of July!

the garden: bird feeder

I put up a cute bird feeder in my backyard last weekend, and at first I was kind of sad because I wasn't getting any customers. But then a sparrow started coming around. Here she is, viewed from inside the house: 

And pretty soon she told all of her sparrow friends because by Saturday afternoon it was like I was running a sparrow nightclub. In related news, this is how Victor is now spending 100 percent of his free time: 

I mentioned previously about Tony's first-place award for chicken showmanship. He busted out some more of his avian knowledge as we were watching the birds, identifying the male and female sparrows, grackles, mourning doves and cardinals. The things you learn about your spouse.

So the birds have pretty much decimated the supply of sunflower seeds that I put in the bird feeder. And I'm not sure whether I'm going to refill it because those little bastards ate all of my strawberries while they were here. And squirrels were all over my backyard. Whom I blame for this crime, which I came home to last night:

Bah humbug.