Fast-Forward (the end of April and May)

We have some catching up to do, which I blame on the end-of-the-school year squish time. These past weeks have been tying up, sewing in and snipping loose ends, writing last chapters, waxing and polishing - all of those concluding steps I tend to dread so much.

So here is a quick fast-forward between then and now, a few noteworthy, fun and meaningful things that happened.

Chattanooga - not the city as much as the cabin just south of it that we shared with my family for a weekend. Parents, siblings, in-laws, nephew and niece (both the two and four-legged varieties). It was our family's first grown-up reunion. One highlight for me was the deck on the back of the house - with ample rocking chairs to chat and watch the spring rains come and go.

They may be grandparents now, but this little guy seems to have reversed time because I have never seen mom and dad so eager to climb around on a playground. There was no hesitation before slipping down the slides, wiping away the leftover rain with their now-soaked bottoms, jumping up to go again or find something else fun to entertain Emmett. The weekend blew by, and everyone agreed that it felt too short for a proper catch-up. But with how busy everyone gets, any time spent together is better than no time (or awkward three-way skype calls).

The Kentucky Derby came and went too - and if it wasn't for our neighbor friend, it would have passed without us doing anything special. We went to just one derby event the Saturday before the horse race, the Ken-Ducky Derby. It's a fundraiser for a local charity that involves dumping bucket loads of rubber duckies into the Ohio River. More than 31,000 duckies plopped into the river and then drifted towards the finish line. Isaac was just along for the ride, and thought that this was a live duck race up until the moment we waited along the riverfront. He asked if the ducks were in the yellow bins, then commented that it seemed cruel to drop them into the river from that high up. He was much less excited for the ducky derby when he realized they were not made of flesh and feathers. All three of us agreed that it was a one-time kind of event. Been there, done that, probably won't go again. I did appreciate the ridiculousness of it for a moment though.

My favorite part of derby season this year was getting my free derby glass. To get into many of the derby events, you must buy a $6 pegasus pin, which features a tear-off strip you can exchange for a souvenir glass. There's also chances to win free gift cards and such, but we didn't have any luck with those. The design this year was super cute and I was excited to get my hands on two of them.























This was a big deal. My loyal steed, my '98 mustang convertible, has moved on to greener pastures. The car dad so zealously maintained and brought back to life so many times that her nickname "bunny" transformed into "frankenbun" is now gone. I had the chance to clean her up thoroughly, saying thank you and goodbye to every inch as I wiped and polished. When I called dad to tell him the news and what the buyer's mechanic had said, he automatically started searching online for car parts and prices for a new air compressor. He was estimating how much it would cost to replace, when I said, "You know what? You don't have to worry about it anymore."

I'm an incredibly sentimental person, and I know I get it honestly from both sides, but it feels good to simplify life sometimes. I know my dad expressed his love for me through caring and maintaining my mustang. But I choose to hold onto memories in the heart and not always with my hands.

And so now that we are caught up, I press play, ready to resume the normal pace of life. I'm writing now from the edge of summer break, having just finished my last working day for the next two months. A few decisions hang overhead, clouding up the next warm weeks, but I'm confident that the summer sun will burn through them, or at least distract me well enough until they resolve themselves.

Cincinnati and Easter Specials

We finally got out of the 'Ville. We visited Cincinnati for the day, our agenda clear save for our usual aspirations - eat something yummy and walk somewhere pretty. Both were easily accomplished on our first trip together to this surprisingly charming city.

I laughed as we drove down the last stretch of highway into the city because it struck me that this city looks like the flip-flop of Louisville. Both are on the banks of the Ohio River. Louisville is all on the Kentucky side, the northern side of the river in Indiana looking oddly peaceful and empty. Cincinnati and all of its tall buildings are on the Ohio side, the southern Kentucky side looking green and rural by comparison.

We squeezed between skyscrapers and zipped through the CBD making a bee line towards the more hip and charming Over-The-Rhine neighborhood. It's here that I had scouted out a park and lunch destination for us on the drive up.

We parked in a pristine garage located beneath Washington Park - a picturesque green spread next to the historic Cincinnati Music Hall.

Bordered by beautiful brick buildings and perfectly manicured for spring, filled with lunch-breaking businessmen and happy families, this park offered a great first impression of the city.

 

But we passed through the park quickly, our stomachs reminding us that our destination awaited us. It's the building on the right, with the yellow crown sign - A Taste of Belgium.

Atmosphere, tastes, style - this place aces all three.

And something happened that is a rarity for whenever we eat out - Isaac and I ordered the same thing! Spicy chicken and belgian waffles, served alongside a sophisticated tangy salad to cut through the grease and sugar, and to make you feel a little less guilty.

We called it brunch and went all out with drinks too - a fancy Belgian beer for him and a candied orange peel and dark chocolate iced coffee for me.

After our hearty and perfect brunch, we walked around Over-The-Rhine a bit and window shopped. It's full of striking old buildings, now housing unique restaurants and cute independent stores stuffed with locally made goods.

We waited at a street corner for the light to change for me to get this shot. At first I was annoyed at this guy crossing the street, but then I realized he's the perfect local to be strolling along in this scene. He's wearing an OH/KY shirt - a Cincy-inspired logo I saw on a few items in the shops around here.

Above is another shot of that same cute stretch of buildings, below is an old Kroger just further north at the edge of what seems to be OTR's gentrified and polished-up stretch.

We had such a fun day away in Cincinnati, and it made me remember how mentally recharging it is to do this kind of thing. To intentionally plan a time of fun, a day out of the ordinary devoted just to relaxation. With summer quickly approaching, I am feeling inspired.

I also want to share a few quick glimpses of the food highlights from our Easter weekend. We didn't have a huge spread, with it being just the two of us, but I did try to make the weekend special with two interesting dishes.

The first is spaghetti medici - a simple tomato sauce with anchovies that we fell in love with in the Tuscan countryside of Italy. The recipe I found took canned anchovies, red wine and a long time, but was totally worth it in the end. The cooking process was fascinating for my nose - smelling the changes in flavor and complexity as the cooking went along.

 Anchovies don't get enough appreciation for the tastiness they add to many dishes. I'm so happy that a container of this sauce awaits us in the freezer for the next time we want to pretend to be fancy on our balcony.

I also made my first carrot cake from scratch. Shredding three cups of carrots on my handheld grater was no small feat, but was again worth every ounce of trouble. There was plenty for coffee breaks and tea times and enough to share with friends and family too! I just decided to try and make this an Easter tradition. Partly because it's festive and I love carrot cake, but also because I don't think I have the mental or physical strength to grate carrots more than once a year.

One of the many things I learned from my mom is that a holiday isn't done well unless it leaves your kitchen looking like the apocalypse. I proudly took the picture below before taking a deep breath in and putting on those dish-washing gloves.

Speed Art Museum

It's funny how a handful of extra degrees can improve your mood. It warmed me up to the Speed Art Museum, this local place that I've read about, and that we've even walked and driven by a few times and still managed to ignore.

It's Louisville's biggest and oldest art museum, nestled in the heart of the University of Louisville campus. Unlike its name and my false impression, the Speed Art Museum has nothing to do with quickness, it's just the last name of the founding couple. Its 60 million dollar renovation and expansion in recent years has made it into an impressive and impeccable palette to showcase and share art.

A local wine and spirits company called Brown-Forman made a huge donation (in honor of its former CEO and art-lover Owsley Brown II) which allows anyone to visit the museum for free every Sunday for the next five years. And so, on a cool but sunny Sunday, we finally checked it out.

Its variety, its size, its style - we were thoroughly impressed.

Their collection is like a painter's palette with tasty samples spanning the ages and world - memorial artifacts from ancient cultures of Egypt, China and Rome tucked just around the corner from European art made in the last few centuries. Tribal creations and modern mixed media and folk art. Improv musicians and interactive art for kids and a theater. Private trinkets of the museum's founders and a floor dedicated to bluegrass grown pieces. Can I stop rambling and get on with the highlights? Gosh, I'll try. There were a bunch. I'll mention them as we saw on our meandering walk through the floors.

The eye-catching color combo in this Picasso above and this remarkably detailed unfinished work below. Can you see her tear? It seemed to be glistening and hanging off the canvas.

This room filled with giant King Louis tapestries and other stuff of Francophilic dreams. I gave up trying to take a picture of the stained glass windows that did them justice.

This elaborately carved wooden room from a house in England that was disassembled, moved and reassembled a handful of times before ending up here.

This impractical but oddly satisfying dresser.

The many tributes to Kentucky's favorite son, Abraham Lincoln.

A tiny handcut silhouette.

An incredibly patient and cute husband hanging in after 120 minutes of museum wandering.

Lovely, calm strokes and colors.

Adam naming the animals in this huge piece that took up a large wall, letting you lean in and see the hare stretched out next to the fox, and the dogs already at man's side.

It is a wonderful place, and we both reached our art appreciation limit before we reached the museum's end. Lucky for us, there are plenty more Sundays open for us to take our time exploring the Speed Art Museum.

Barton 1792 Distillery

It feels like we've finally woken up from our winter hibernation of just sticking close to home and doing next to nothing. More and more days feature blue skies and sunshine, and getting out just sounds more appealing than it did a month or two ago.

And so, although Saturday did not have blue skies and warm weather, we were up for the 40 minute drive south to the Barton 1792 Distillery in Bardstown.

This is the sister distillery of Buffalo Trace, our favorite distillery in Frankfort. It is smaller, in terms of production and foot traffic, and has a nice charm about it. You drive through the center roundabout of the small town, two quick turns and it's downhill into the distillery.

As you walk up to the visitors's center, which is tucked between two large production/distribution buildings, the air is saturated with a yeasty smell - it's that fermenting mixture of grains and water called mash. As we waited for our tour to start, it seemed as if the smell changed - sometimes it was bread rising, moments later it was certain that someone close by had brownies in the oven.

When you tell them that you'd like a tour, they give you each a bung which serves as your pass for the complimentary taste testing afterwards. The bung is the soft piece of wood that acts like a stopper in the bourbon barrel. At the beginning of the taste testing, they stamp your bung, and then return it to you as a souvenir.

Like its sister company Buffalo Trace, there is no charge for tours and tastings at Barton.

Rather than having a stockpile on site, grains are delivered daily to this distillery, each truck driving onto this same drop off point where our tour group stood. Corn, rye and barley and poured through the grate below. On the right is the column still which stands several stories high (maybe seven? I can't remember).

Our group walked up to the third floor for a chance to sample their white dog - the distilled strong alcohol that will go into barrels to become bourbon. We opted just for a sniff - it smelled smoother and was less pungent than I expected.

Here's another view of the column still from a couple of floors up.
























We had a peek inside one of the warehouses and then headed back for the taste-testing.

I wish I'd taken pictures in the gift shop to show you what their bourbon bottles look like - it's a clean, classic Gatsby kind of design. If I understood correctly, this distillery has just three basic products - a mixing bourbon, a sipping bourbon and a dessert bourbon mix. All three of these were available to sample at the taste-testing. They do sell their bourbon at a variety of different proofs.

My memory of their bourbon - peppery. Much more so than Blanton's, the benchmark for my elementary bourbon palette. The stand out we agreed was their dessert beverage - Chocolate Bourbon Ball Cream Liqueur. It didn't taste chocolaty at all (our friend who hates chocolate bought a bottle), but is just delicious. Since touring, we learned that it is rather hard to get your hands on a bottle of this. It is sold almost exclusively at the distillery. Someone said that during holidays sometimes you can find it at nearby stores. When I mentioned our outing to a coworker, they regretted not asking me to pick a bottle or two for them.

And so that is Barton's 1792, all bottled up. Knowing of its relation to Buffalo Trace, we've been curious about it for a while now. Although their 1792 bottle is pretty, it's the bourbon ball cream that we wouldn't mind buying some day. By the way, the 1792 in its name does not refer to its founding year, but to the state of Kentucky's birth year.

And here is this week's Cookie conclusion - parking herself on my needlework, a subtle hint to use my hands to pet her and to not keep crocheting. This is a scrap yarn project - to make an apron - but like often happens, it is taking way longer than I imagined.