Mayan drinking chocolate.

The snow is falling and the holidays are upon us. And, hot cocoa (especially this warm and slightly spicy version) is just what is needed to keep you going all season long. I like to make up a large batch and keep it in the fridge so that it is at the ready.

In a heavy bottom saucepan, combine 1/2 gallon of milk, 1/2 cup of unsweetened cocoa powder, 3 cardamom pods, and a small pinch of red chili flakes. Grate a generous amount of fresh cinnamon and fresh nutmeg into the mixture. Heat to a simmer, whisking to combine. Taste and add sugar as desired.* Turn off the heat and steep for 20 minutes. Then, strain to remove cardamom pods and any bits of chocolate that didn't fully dissolve. Pour into a lidded glass container and keep in the fridge for up to a week. When ready to serve, warm, pour into demitasse cups, top with whipped cream and sprinkles.

*I like to add very little to no sugar at this point. Instead, I like to add it when I'm serving it by the cup so that each person can adjust the sweetness level to their own taste.

back garden. 10 o'clock.

advent.

I grew up loving advent calendars. On a few years, my sister and I opened little windows of a Christmas scene to reveal small dark chocolates. On most other years, we opened random tiny presents--consisting of lip balm, candy, tiny stuffed animals, inexpensive jewelry-- that my mom had stuffed into a long chain of fabric stockings. While I'm not sure that either my sister or myself really cared if we were opening tiny windows of chocolate or more intricate stuffed fabric stockings, one thing was certain-- advent calendars provided a special touch to the entire holiday season. Rather than just a few days of parties and festivities, the entire month became an event.

For the past several years, I've continued the advent calendar tradition with my own children. Last year, I created a stack of 25 matchboxes, intricately painting each one so that they became daily drawers with miniatures tucked inside. This year, we'll be traveling and I needed something that a) was easy to pack, b) could be created with limited supplies (since there's not a big craft store to dash into where I live!) and c) would provide a celebration of the season that would appeal to both my sense of design (who wants an ugly advent calendar hanging around for the month?!) and, would provide the opportunity for my kids to 'open' a daily gift in celebration of the season.

Ultimately, inspiration came from a rather unlikely source-- an iconic calendar. I was flipping through the pages of a favorite magazine from 2009, collected while living in Southeast Asia. And, there it was-- a wall featuring the simplistic work of Massimo Vignelli. Rather ironically, the inspiration for my advent calendar is a wall calendar. The piece is Vignelli's wall calendar from 1966, a favorite utilitarian work of art, printed in large scale simple black and white Helvetica numerals.

I had a big stack of small white parchment sacks on hand. So, I got to work, numbering a bag per day. And, repeating the process for each child. Using Vignelli's calendar as a model, I numbered in black ink and sketched a line close to the right side margin. Stuffed with little daily bits and bobs, tucked into a minimalistic wire basket, I think this year's advent couldn't have been easier (or more stylish).

leftovers.

When I was a kid, there were no leftover mashed potatoes. When Thanksgiving was complete, the fridge usually contained a plate of turkey, a bowl of gravy, some cranberries and various veggie sticks. Mashed potatoes were were, and continue to be, a year-round favorite food. We ate them as a main dish (known as bangers and mash in the UK, we called them 'mashed potatoes and little pigs'). We ate them for breakfast (turned into tiny little patties and fried golden brown). We ate them in soup (it's amazing what stirring a few spoon fulls into any soup will do!). The love of mashed potatoes continues today.

If you're lucky enough to have even just a few leftovers from yesterday's Thanksgiving, here's a fun little snack. Heat a spoonful of gravy. Shred a piece of turkey and add it to the gravy. Scoop into the bottom 1/2 of a warmed espresso cup and top with warmed mashed potatoes. Enjoy!

happy thanksgiving.

Since living outside of the United States, Thanksgiving looks a bit different. It's a day unmarked locally in each of the countries we've lived in. And, yet, it has become increasingly important to me as a part of our family's calendar.

My children may not understand the modern 'traditions' of the day in America--no day off of school, ball games playing on the television, large family gatherings or viewing of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. But, my children will know the importance of pausing to celebrate the concept of being thankful.

We mark the day with a meal, conversation and taking the time to enjoy a celebratory buzz in the air. We talk about the harvest and local foods, we speak about things to be thankful for, we laugh, we tell stories, we compliment the meal, we enjoy one another. For this last piece I am extremely thankful. For me, there is no greater measure of success than knowing my husband and I are creating a family that deeply enjoys one another.

I adore watching my daughter hug her brother, my son tell his baby brother that he's so happy to have him as a part of our family, having the baby light up as his papa walks through the front door, knowing exactly what my husband is saying by the way he smiles at me. These are the moments I am thankful for. No matter where you spend your holiday, or if you even observe the day, I wish you a wonderful day full of moments spent enjoying the people you are with. Happy Thanksgiving.

learn. teach. give thanks.

Source: google.ca via Pinterest

I grew up, like most American kids born in the 70s, with a fairly mythological teaching of the first Thanksgiving. We heard about the Native Americans and the Pilgrims sitting down to a large meal and enjoying their time together-- rather than the truth of where American Thanksgiving began. Like many other holidays, the roots of a celebration sometimes start quite differently than what today's modern version of the holiday looks like.

As a parent, it's important to me that I do not pass along the fictitious Thanksgiving story. This article, provided by the Manataka American Indian Council, provides a very good 'story' of Thanksgiving that more accurately shares our history.* However, please be warned that this may be a difficult read for anyone with fond memories of making feathered head dresses and pilgrim hats in school.

So, while my memories of school lessons involving a friendly meal shared at Plymouth Rock are a thing of past generations. I move forward, with a stronger knowledge of history, and continuing to honor a day set aside to recognize all we have to be thankful for.

*Note: The linked article is divided into three parts-- the first is a graphic telling of the first Thanksgiving, the second is an introduction of the topic for teachers and the third is a suggested retelling of the Plymouth Thanksgiving story that is more representative of actual history.

25 ways to wear a scarf.

It's no secret that I own about ten trillion scarves. I love them. Wait, perhaps I should underscore that statement since it somehow doesn't seem strong enough. I LOVE them. So when my dad sent me this YouTube clip, I flipped out. Now I have a couple of new tying tactics to add to my collection. Had you ever heard of The Braid or The Twist and Pull?! Me neither!

nutella brownies.

• I'm in the land of Nutella. At the large grocery in our city, there's a row dedicated almost entirely to the product. Now technically, Nutella is only one brand of many-- there's several different names, different blends (dark, milk, white) and unique packaging (striped white chocolate and dark chocolate, half light/half dark). But for a girl born in the American 1970s and only first tasting hazelnut spread in my high school years, Nutella is just Nutella. So, for any purists out there who know and favor the other brands... I'm sorry.

Nutella Brownies

• 
  
• Ingredients:
• 3/4 cup butter
• 7 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped
• 3 tablespoons cocoa powder
• 1 1/2 cups sugar
• 1 vanilla bean, split and scraped
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 4 eggs
• 1 1/2 cups flour
• 1/3 cup nutella
• 1 cup hazelnuts, coarsely chopped (optional)

Method:

In a heavy bottom saucepan, melt the butter and chocolate. Remove from heat and add the cocoa powder, sugar and vanilla bean. Then, beat the eggs in a large mixing bowl until light in color. Add the salt to the eggs. Add one tablespoon of the melted chocolate mixture to the eggs and beat to combine. Slowly continue to add the remaining chocolate to the eggs. Add the flour and Nutella. Stir just until combined. Place in a buttered and floured brownie baking dish and sprinkle the top with the hazelnuts if desired. Bake on 350 degrees for approximately 40 minutes. Watch carefully, though, so the brownies don't burn. The top should be firm and the inside will still be somewhat soft. Allow to cool and then slice into bars.

Road trip: Davit Gareja Monastery

Like all of our road trips thus far in Georgia, we started out on a Sunday morning under a sky that was threatening rain. My sister-in-law was visiting and she was fresh off the plane. The kids were ready to soak in their auntie time and we were all anxious to introduce her to the beauty that we've experienced during our start in this still-new-to-us country that we now call home.

My sister-in-law is fantastic. And, that was once again confirmed when she offered to sit in the back of the car with the kids and bounce for hours on end over Georgia's not so smooth roads. She played endless rounds of seven and five year invented games while traveling over jarring terrain. Not an easy task.

Per usual, the trip began not only under threatening skies, but by passing the typical donkey cart...

Closely followed by getting temporarily stuck in a herd of cows...

And, then, needing to swerve around a flock of sheep mingling with a few goats...

As the road continued on and became increasingly remote, we experienced the beauty of Georgia's famous blue skies and sun dappled fields. I kept thinking I was living inside an impressionistic painting. The colors were intense and the air was earthy.

And, then, just as we were moments away from our destination, I did step right into a painting-- specifically, a Van Gogh painting. I couldn't believe the colors spread out before me as we rounded a corner. Golden fields floating atop a layer of green reached as far as I could see. It all blurred together so beautifully that it took me a few minutes before I realized what I was staring at-- thousands of sunflowers with their heads heavy, looking down at the ground they were planted in.

We were all richly rewarded with time spent together and a glorious destination at the end of the road. We arrived at a wind whipped monastery, David Gareja, carved deep into the hills on the border between Georgia and Azerbaijan. A sixth century, functioning Georgian Orthodox monastery complex located in the Kakheti region of Eastern Georgia, the area includes churches, chapels, caves and living quarters hollowed out of the rock face. The area provides evidence of some of the oldest human habitations in the region and has a rich history involving battles and border disputes.

Here's a glimpse at the entrance, followed by the interior which is laden with darkened tunnels, several 'floors' of caves and a small chapel and garden on the ground level. Most impressive to me was the far 'wall' of rock which consists of the monastery's quarters.

applause.

I was having a day. Yes, a day. One of those horrid days where nothing seemed to go the way it was supposed to.

Call it a bad expat day-- I had searched for yeast at the market for days and had grown tired of staring at Russian on packages. Eventually, I started making up words thinking that I could actually read the language. (PLEASE tell me you've done this too?!) I returned home with three tiny packets of unknown contents after convincing myself that one of them must be yeast.*

Call it a bad parenting day-- The volume was warp 100 in our house and not a single child would listen when I asked for them to use their inside voices. And, to make it worse, I irritated myself with the use of the phrase 'inside voices'.

Call it a bad start day--The water was out for the umpteenth time and I had 45 minutes to pray that the city would turn it back on so that I could get a shower before hopping in the car for the school run. No luck.

You get the picture. At some point during the late morning when every little thing continued to go 'wrong', I saddled up to the espresso machine. Somewhere between loading up the coffee grounds and steaming the rice milk, I thought "You know what every expat/parent/person on this planet deserves? An old-fashioned game show applause sign." I needed my own personal flashing prompt that reminded me I was worthy of applause throughout my day. Without a further thought, I grabbed a scrap of thin wood planking and some glossy black and white paint.

So, it doesn't flash. But, I catch a glimpse of that sign now hanging in my kitchen, remember the 10 minutes of work it took to create it and smile for hours on end.

 *For those curious: baking powder, baking soda and a still unidentifiable salty sweet powder.

pom.

I swear I'll be done with 'fruit from our garden' posts soon. Eventually, I fear, you'll be hearing only of cabbage and potatoes. I'm not feeling overly confident in my ability to make it through the winter without absolutely freaking out about the predicted produce situation (i.e. grim, very grim, I hear!). 

Even though our last two days have been marked by the city's first snowfall and I needed to debut my (faux) fur hat or risk turning into a human icicle, these gorgeous pomegranates continue to make the tree in our yard look as if it's decorated for Christmas. The big globes are tricky to pull off and some of the skins have already split.The ones we're able to snap off the branches are starting to burst with gorgeous red seeds. I've started throwing them into salads and mixing them into cereal.

But, perhaps the biggest consumer in our house is the baby. He can pop them faster than I ever imagined humanly possible (and grins from ear to ear while doing so). Although, the red fingers following his meal aren't exactly flattering on a baby!

rainsticks.

I was wanting a fun, new project to do with my kids and needed something that would hold the attention of both my art obsessed seven-year-old daughter and my "I kind of only want to make something if it makes noise or is related to superheroes" five-year-old son. I came across a post about making rain sticks on The Imagination Tree. Noise (that would actually be somewhat soothing!) and hammering and pouring and painting and glueing and decorating and... fun. Perfect.

We gathered our supplies and pretty much followed the tutorial, making just a few changes to adjust to what we had on hand. We started with tall, empty, clean chip/crisps cylinders. Then, carefully hammered in nails and added some screws all the way around and up and down in a random fashion. The addition of screws gave a different texture for the contents to hit and gave the kids an opportunity to 'play' with a screwdriver. Then, we poured in rice, lentils and short pasta noodles (we call them 'chicken soup noodles' in our house), filling the canister about 1/3 full. Next, we placed the lid on and taped it firmly with a couple wraps of duct tape.* After that, we wrapped the cylinders in plain colored paper, painted them with crazy patterns and let them dry.

And, what do you know? We created really cool rain sticks!


*I may have gone a bit over board on the amount of tape used. But, honestly, do you want to risk the chance that you'd have to clean up a huge scatter of rice, lentils and noodles thrown all over the floor after a lid pops off one of these things? Me neither.

scalloped streets. under foot. 7 o'clock.

porridge.

Who knew that something called porridge could taste so good?! My five-year-old came home from one of his first days of school raving about the Georgian Porridge that their school cook made for the morning snack. He asked numerous times for me to make it. So, after a creative chat with the school's cook, I think I understood enough of our conversation to attempt some at home. (The conversation was entirely in Georgian but lucky for me involved a good deal of ingredient pointing out and pantomimed cooking.) So, I returned home to attempt Georgian Porridge. And, you know what? My son was right... it's good, simple, comfort food.

Georgian Porridge
1 cup of white rice (any grain length can be used), cooked
3 cups of whole milk
1/2 cup of sugar
cinnamon (optional)

Heat the milk in a saucepan. Once warm, add the rice and cook, uncovered, over low heat stirring slowly and constantly. Add the sugar once the mixture thickens. Remove from heat and continue to stir, fully incorporating the sugar. If desired, top with cinnamon when ready to serve.