She Just Got Married Blog
Here's another recipe that looks and tastes a lot more complicated than it is. You can make it with either veal or chicken. If you don't have a meat hammer to flatten the meat, you can put it between layers of plastic wrap and whack it with a heavy saucepan or a rolling pin instead. This is especially delicious served over angel hair pasta. Bon appetit!
VEAL (OR CHICKEN) PICCATA 1 lb veal (or 4 boneless chicken breasts), pounded thin 2 Tbsp grated Parmesan cheese 1/3 cup flour Salt and pepper 4 Tbsp olive oil 4 Tbsp butter 1/2 cup chicken stock or dry white wine 3 Tbsp lemon juice 1/4 cup brined capers 1/4 cup fresh chopped parsley (optional) Mix together the flour, salt, pepper, and grated Parmesan. Rinse the meat in water. Dredge the pieces thoroughly in the flour mixture until well coated. Heat olive oil and 2 tablespoons of butter in a large skillet on medium high heat. Add meat, brown well on each side, about 3 minutes per side. Remove the meat from the pan and reserve to a plate. Cover with aluminum foil and keep warm in the oven while you prepare the sauce. Add the chicken stock (or white wine), lemon juice, and capers to the pan. Use a spatula to scrape up the browned bits. Reduce the sauce by half (3-5 minutes). Whisk in the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter. Plate the veal and serve with the sauce poured over the chicken. Sprinkle with parsley, if desired.
This morning after hitting the snooze button 4 times, I was laying in bed and all of a sudden I hear "gobble gobble". Yep, I hear a turkey gobbling outside. I lift my head up thinking that I might be dreaming and am not really hearing one, but the hubby opens up his eyes.
Me: "Did you hear that?"
Hubs: "Yeah"
Me: "Was that a turkey?!!?!?"
Hubs: "I think so. It sounded like one."
Ok, we don't live in a farm, near a farm, or near anywhere that a turkey might just be taking a morning stroll down the street. I live in a suburb town in northern NJ which is 30 minutes from NYC. You don't see turkeys roaming the streets where I live.
Did I get up to look out the window and see if indeed there was a turkey outside our window? Nope, I stayed in bed cuddled with the hubs trying to convince him to play hookie today and not go to work so we can relax all day dreading to hear the alarm go off again.
Happy Turkey Wednesday
Most of us have heard of The Five Love Languages by Dr. Gary Chapman. I have to admit, I haven't read it yet but I've read a lot about it. It's on my must-read list.
But I speak another language - I speak Movie - my native dialect is "movie" but I picked up some TV slang along the way. Like "How You Doin'?"....I picked that up from Wendy Williams, whom I had never even heard of until I was watching "The Soup". I get my news from The Daily Show with Jon Stewart and I get my Hollywood gossip fix from The Soup. Joel McHale from The Soup L-O-V-E-S to slam Wendy Williams relentlessly so I thought I would at least check out her show to see if she is, indeed, as bizarre as Joel makes her out to be. She is. And yet...I find myself slchlepping her suddenly famous phrase around all day.
"How you doin'?" I ask the my husband first thing in the morning. He looks at me like I'm speaking a foreign language. The words he gets....the body move and the accent? Not so much. He makes no comment but assumes I'm speaking "Movie". And I don't bother to explain.
I tell him I've made our airline reservations for our trip next week. I ask 'what extra items do we need to pack for this trip'? He says, in his Al Pacino voice "take the gun, leave the cannoli". We have a few seconds of akward starring at which I point I realize....he also speaks 'movie'. All men speak 'Godfather'.
It's kind of sexy. So I 'make him an offer he can't refuse'. And we both speak THAT language quite fluently!
One of the most exciting parts about getting engaged is choosing the engagement ring. Some brides-to-be prefer to be surprised, some like to drop hints, some want to go shopping together and select the exact ring. But however you do it, it's exciting!
There are so many parts to the decision. Yellow or white gold? Or platinum or titanium instead? Solitaire or multiple stones? High setting or low? Antique style or contemporary? How many carats? Round, brilliant, marquis, emerald, or princess cut? Traditional white diamond? Or pink or yellow or chocolate? Or not a diamond at all, but a ruby or sapphire or opal or emerald? Family or estate diamond or new? If it's a handed-down ring, keep the setting or change it? Do you want it engraved? If so, what should it say and in what font? No wonder so many grooms-to-be get confused.
But the good news for all those grooms out there is that if the man is right, the ring will be right no matter what!
The night before the hubby was up all night playing his video game non-stop so I went to bed before him. Before I went to bed I realized that my phone was low on battery. So I grabbed the charger and plugged it into the plug next to the bed on the hubby's side because I wanted to check my facebook before I fell alseep so still needed to use the phone. That plug is the closest. Of course it's on the hubbys side so the wire is laying across his pillow. I must have knocked out for a bit because I snored loudly and woke myself up wake up in the middle of the night and notice that 1. The hubs is still playing games and it's like around 1 in the morning and 2. My phone is on the hubby's pillow. So, it's done charging so I pull the phone out of the charger and place it on the table next to my side of the bed and go back to snoring sleep. I don't remember if I threw the wire off to the side from his pillow, but oh well.
Then in the morning the hubby calls me at work and tells me that he came into the bedroom to change into his lounge pants and said that I had the phone charging on his pillow.
His words exactly, "as if I wasn't coming to bed and the phone replaced me.". Ha!
In my defense, at least the phone charger kept me company until the hubby finally came to bed. I am obsessed do LOVE my crackberry blackberry to death. But I guess I have reached a whole new level with my blackberry. I guess if my blackberry is my new hubs, I'm going to have to change the color from pink to blue. It only makes sense.
It's been a long winter but I can actually see the sunshine today. Spring is just around the corner and love is in bloom. So today, in honor of the sunshine, I'm inspired by all the warmth of a yellow themed wedding.
This beautiful mellow yellow inspiration board was created by the lovely Laura Sheffield of Little White Book from the United Kingdom.
Photo credits: pew ends weddingwire, candy jars via budgetwedding.com, drinks lindemanweddings, cupcakes fancie, wedding favours via stylemepretty.com. yellow roses brides.com, bride Bruce Oldfield, wedding bouquet via Kugab, pedestal arrangement projectwedding.com, bridesmaid davids bridal, polka dot shoes modern vintage bride, wedding cake realsimple.com.
Bright yellow and pale yellow bridesmaids dresses surround the bride in a feeling of warmth and happiness.
photo source Bridal Wave via Little White Book
Of course, the invitations....
And....reception decor
Yellow just makes me happy!!
It's a Win/Win for everyone!
I'm assuming. That's not nice, I know. So let's just say the compromise is just at my house...between me and my non-Red Carpet, anti-Oscar-hoopla-lovin' hubby. But I like it....and he likes me.....so he tolerates the three hour plus star-studded television fest and even gives an obligatory (although not genuine) ooh and ahhh now and then to show me he's 'in the game'. He does this because he knows I know March Madness is here! And I'll be 'in the game' for The Big Dance. See? I know sports lingo....and he likes that!
Ok - so here's something that everyone will enjoy whether you're having an actual Oscar Party or it's just the two of you. My mom made this for a Super Bowl party and it is DELICIOUS~!
My husband's cousin e-mailed him before the Superbowl and asked for the recipe for "those great Buffalo Wings you made last time I was over". My husband sent him the following recipe: Step 1 - Go to Costco. Step 2 - Buy a giant bag of Buffalo Wings. Step 3 - Heat and serve.
My husband the chef!! :-)
While making some tuna sandwiches last night, the hubby gets a phone call. He picks up and starts talking to the person. I walk over to our kitchen table to sit and down and eat my tuna sandwich and stuff my face with big spoonfuls have a couple teaspoons worth of Haagen Dazs ice cream, I look over to him and it hit me! The hubby always paces around the room when he's on a phone call. When he gets really into a conversation, he paces around even faster and starts to fidget with stuff.
Example, yesterday he started to pace around from the couch to the closet door and back and forth and back and forth. Then he starts pacing around the coffee table and starts to look at stuff on the coffee table. He also paced himself over to the door and checked the locks and then proceeded to look out the peephole. Mind you, we live on the second floor and our door goes out to the stair hallway. If somebody was outside our door, we would have heard the downstairs door slam shut (because our walls are thin as a piece of paper) and the footsteps coming up the stairs. So we would have had plenty of indication if a person was standing in front of our door. But that didn't matter to the hubby yesterday, he just went over to the door and looked out the peephole. Maybe he wanted to make sure there was no mass murderer waiting on the top step for the right time to attack? Maybe he heard the downstairs door slam, then footsteps coming up the steps and a knock at our door? (which is not the case because I would have heard all of that noise too). Or maybe it's just because when he talks on the phone he gets distracted and starts to do the most random stuff ever while he paces the whole apartment? I'm going to go with the last one.
But seriously, I don't get the pacing. At least I can sneak in some kisses when he's in this "pacing trance" of his. :)
Haha I do that too at home, not anymore because I've lived in small dorm-size rooms since I moved out, but at home where there's space I also pace around, I check on random stuff, I put things away if I see something "on my way", and yes, I check the peephole too (not sure why, but I suddenly get curious when I see it). I guess I'm just restless...? Or I need additional stimulation because the conversation is dry.
Brides these days face a dilemma that our mothers rarely thought about and that never even entered our grandmothers' minds: Whether or not to take our husband's name. Years ago, it was just assumed that a woman would take her husband's last name. She would also usually drop her middle name and take her maiden name as her new middle name. Thus, Anne Elizabeth Smith, upon marrying James Parker, would become Anne Smith Parker. (Actually, in our grandmothers' generation, she would have been Mrs. James Parker. But that's a whole 'nother can of worms.)
Today, a bride has endless options of what to do with her name. Many brides, especially those who marry after establishing a professional reputation under their maiden name, opt to keep their own name. Anne Smith marries James Parker but remains Anne Smith. But what about when little ones come along? Will they be little Johnny and Janie Parker or little Johnny and Janie Smith? Johnny and Janie Parker-Smith? Johnny and Janie Smith-Parker? And what if the bride opts to use her maiden name professionally but go by her husband's name socially? Her library card may be Anne Parker, but is her driver's license Anne Parker or Anne Smith? What about her bank account? Her tax return? It all gets very complicated.
And then we have the issue of remarriages. A friend of mine had established both a professional and an avocational reputation under her ex-husband's last name (Jones), so she wanted to keep that name. But her ex-husband was a cad who got her into legal and financial trouble, so she wanted to change her name. But her new husband is Jewish and has a very traditionally Jewish last name (let's say it's Cohen) that sounded odd with her very Gentile first name (we'll call her Colleen), so she wanted to keep her name. But it would mean a lot to her new husband for her to take his name, so she wanted to change it. In the end, she opted to take her husband's name but use her ex's name as well, and goes by Colleen Jones Cohen.
And then there are always a few creative types who come up with unusual solutions all their own. I have friends from college, Mary McGillicuddy and Joe Brown, who had a novel solution to the whole name dilemma. Instead of just the bride changing or hyphenating or otherwise messing with her name, the bride and groom combined both names and legally became Mary and Joe McBrown.
I was (and am) proud to bear my husband's name. I like my original middle name, so I kept that and dropped my maiden name. Anyone to whom my maiden name means anything knows what it is anyway. The only place I still use my maiden name is on Facebook, so old friends can find me. But my last name is my married name, period. That's my choice, and I don't fault anyone who chooses otherwise.
So how did YOU (or will you) choose to solve the name dilemma?
The first time around, taking my husband's last name was a no brainer, but the second time, I actually deliberated for a few months. I was very happy to have finally gotten my maiden name back after a divorce and wasn't sure I was ready to part with it again. Ultimately, I chose to take Gary's last name because he's in the military and no matter where we went, I wanted that tie and for people to recognize our link right away.
We also playfully joked about combining our last names. I'm Millward and he's Washington, so we thought Millington would be a neat solution.
And a bit ranting here, but I think the tradition of making maiden names a woman's middle name is incredibly outdated. In my religious culture (Mormon), it's very common to simply never give a daughter a middle name on the assumption that she won't need it anyway because she'll get married. I think that's presumptuous.
In the era when middle name/maiden name was the tradition, it was for geneaological purposes, to track the family line. But what most people in my religious culture choose to ignore is that, while daughters didn't get middle names, sons were supposed to all get their mother's maiden name so their maternal line was traceable. They practice the naming tradition halfway, imposing a double standard on their sons and daughters. It's always irked me.
I was watching VH1 the other night and saw the biography of Vanilla Ice. Cool. Ok, maybe not so much these days. But you've gotta admit....he rocked the mic like a vandal...light up the stage and he'll wax a chump like a candle. Huh??
Nothing worse than that awkward silence that fills a room when the party just isn't happening like you had envisioned. People stare and the floor and then someone says...'Did I really just hear a cricket?'
STOP! Before you take one more step in planning your reception, find your DJ!
yep...that's Joel
I've had the pleasure of being at some rockin', fun, energy-packed parties with Atlanta DJ, Joel Rabe of Lethal Rhythms and I can assure you there was never a dull moment when he was at the mic.
He's been labeled "the must have Spin-Doctor for 2010." Winner of multiple awards and featured professional on Grace Ormonde's Platinum List, The Bridal Bar, Best of the Best 2010 and more, Joel is a passionate professional and Artist who will whip up some serious dance floor energy, creating an event around your Style, Taste and Vision. And....he's even cooler than Vanilla Ice...what what??
The team of Lethal Rhythms serves Atlanta and the Southeast. Give them a call and let them custom design your perfect event.
Oh My Gosh that sounds like me and my husband!! He plays Wii Star Wars or Halo on XBox 360 until the wee hours of the night. I usually go to bed first and take my phone to bed to check email, Facebook, or the Internet. I am addicted to "my everything" iPhone! I have to watch it sometimes because my husband gets so upset about it lol!