...napping in a screened porch, hazily hearing the buzz of bugs that want in, but can't.
...putting on a pair of dry underwear after a full 8-hour day in a bathing suit. Really, that feel of dry underwear hitting your nethers is a golden gift.
...long canoe rides with the Dotytron, exploring a lake's nooks and crannies. We've been doing it for so long...I think the end of our second year together we went up to his family cottage for the first time. No lake will ever be as magical as that one. The sun burning the mist off an abandoned beaver dam we happened upon; drifting into a mess of lily pads and catching glimpse of a 1 1/2 foot shell of a turtle disappearing beneath the canoe; bobbing beside a family of loons; hearing the reedy scrape of grasses against the canoe hull as we pass through a cathedral of fallen birches; watching a blue heron take flight off a rock; pretend-buying cottages. Healey lake is filled with so many fingers and inlets and bays - I loved that time we spent there with the Dotytron's mum and dad and sister, before we had kids, when we were still kids, pretending at being grown.
...canoeing with my kids now. Perfunctory canoe rides punctuated with constant sharp admonishments to the twins (mostly Lenny) to STOP LEANING OVER and to PLEASE SIT STILL. Loud canoe rides because my youngest (Lenny) is so pure of heart and without guile and filters and lives in a perpetual present, and therefore, the canoe rides are filled with: "I want to go over dare, wit the grasses. Ooh! We're going over there! Are we going over dare? Are we going over dare...wit the grasses now?" Endless loops of his stream-of-conscious narration, scaring off any potential wildlife for a 5km radius.
...being with my family. My crazy, loud, contentious, hilarious, inappropriate family. Building upon nearly 40 years (!) of sibling in-jokes and now inter- and intra-generational jokes and folding in outlaw siblings by marriage. Seeing my eldest nephew forge a special bond with Twin A (Quincess), the two of them thick as thieves. Little little Cuz and the Big Yam skulking around pretending to be spies and sitting, heads together, lost in their Minecraft universe. I have the best family in the world.
...being with my kids. The twins have a knack for finding frogs? And we never believe them, and each time, they find a bigger one. When we went camping we did a gentle hike on this path through an abandoned beaver village (?), and Twin A and Twin B ran up ahead and we saw them crouched over a bridge over a small creek and babbling away: "We found a frog!" The Dotytron and I were very skeptical and we walked up and sure enough, there was a tiny dark green frog head just popping out of the water. We showed up at the cottage this week and they immediately ran to the dock and when we checked in on them after unpacking, they were once again crouched with their little butts in the air, peering over the dock and yammering again about a frog, and once again, we were like, "Yeah, whatever, I'm sure it's a rock or something," and we look over and it's a GIANT BULLFROG THE SIZE OF A COW HEART. LOL! It's just so funny how these clowns legit can't "find" a giant toy that's right in front of their faces and meanwhile, are frog-spotting savants, and each time we doubt them and the frogs keep getting bigger and bigger.
...playing board games. Taboo, Catchphrases, Telestrations, Apples to Apples, Pictureka, Guess Who?
...eating a giant baked pasta dinner after a day spent basking in the sun, lazily floating on my back in the water
...floating on my back in the water. Ears submerged, my hair fanning out in the current, the sky above me, the sound of my breathing filling my ears, buoyant, relaxed...like I'm in a sensory deprivation tank.
...all the good food. Bags and bags of salty snacks, multiple desserts, big egg-based breakfasts, everyone trying to outdo each other in the cooking department.
...the mostly stupendous people in my life. My family, my friends, my bff. I'm in love with all the inspiring, beautiful people I've met and continue to meet, who are all so different but at some level all share the quality of wanting to unravel the universe with me.
...time to read, and write. Plowing through books. That little death you feel when you get to the last page of a book. Time to spend thinking about what I want to write, how I want to write. Time to let the words come to me, the things I want to capture, to reflect, to talk things out with smart people I love.
...being with the Dotytron. Always.
...turning 37 (!). Being firmly in the back half of my 30s. Spending my birthday surrounded by people I love, with the sun setting on a gorgeous lake, the smell of outdoors in the air, lazily working on a blog post while various people are splayed on in repose in various parts of this giant house. Being okay with my age and mostly okay with who I am at this very point in time. Settling into it. Feeling myself. Feeling so much love for the people I know. Just being in love with it all.
So basically, the cottage is great guys, is what I'm saying.
I'm INTO a lot of things, lately, and as it goes when you're a modern day Renaissance woman with too many interests surrounded by inspiring, brilliant people, the things I'm INTO are varied and range from the profound to the frivolous.
1) This exchange between Roxane Gay, Tressie McMillan Cottom, and David Simon on the barring of journalist Tim Tai's from the University of Missouri's student activist tent city. It happened on Twitter. It is electrifying reading. Gay and Simon I knew already, but Tressie McMillan Cottom is new to me and she is everything. Razor sharp, eloquent, invested. Remember when thinkers would debate each other and it was televised? I kind of want to go back to that time. The fact that this happened on Twitter is a sign of the modern era, but imagine what it would have been like to have these three in the same room together? Without the constraints of Twitter? I know Twitter is what facilitated this spontaneous conversation, but I want to go back to the time when you could turn on the TV and see Michel Foucault debating Noam Chomsky:
Anyway, David Simon gets served and is STILL AT IT. Some of McMillan Cottom's responses are the best. Like this one:
Insert me doing a million "OHHHHHH, S**T!!!* motions. David Simon gets pwned all over the place and comes off looking really grasp-y and petulant and unhinged in the process, when all it would take is a simple acknowledgement of "Yes, I can see how the media can be a tool for mis-representation and oppression." At one point, Cottom is like, "I can't believe I have to explain this to the guy who wrote THE WIRE." and I'm like, damn right. Simon is also getting pwned because he doesn't know how to work Twitter properly, but he's so fixated on his ideal, that he's not looking at the actual situation, or acknowledging how contingent that reified ideal is.
2) On a (slightly) less heady note: I'm all about this coat from Madewell.
I bought some shoes from Madewell last spring and they didn't fit so I returned them for store credit. This fall, after I got my new job, I invested in some pieces and splurged on a coat (a hella splurge, considering the abysmal state of the Canadian dollar) that is a step above my usual fare. It's sleek, modern, blocky and bulky enough to be proportionally balanced against my skinnies and tights, and elevates my weekend slovenly jeans-based outfits and finishes my more polished weekday work wear. It's a lady coat and I love it. I love the high collar, the slightly oversized cut, and the small details (zippers on the sleeves, deep pockets). Anyway, because I bought it with store credit, I managed to get a few pieces for what felt like much less, even though I was spending money I had already spent. My next lady coat purchase will be a mid-calf length bulky duster/cocoon type, assuming it doesn't make me look stumpy.
3)
The new John Mulaney special on Netflix, The Comeback Kid. I first experienced Mulaney as one half of the "Too Much Tuna" duo on Nick Kroll's Kroll Show. Then a friend mentioned his special New In Town (also on Netflix) and the Dotytron and I watched it and died laughing. Seriously, nothing has hit us this hard since we stumbled upon Kevin Hart lo' these many years ago. Something about the humour, the references, the wit...it all really connected. Mulaney is "coming back" from a disastrous rapidly-cancelled sitcom that was called Mulaney. I never watched it, but I know that he's funny (Wikipedia tells me he wrote on SNL for 6 years and won Emmys) and I highly recommend his stuff.
I generally can't with a lot of stand-up because I find it can veer into basic bro territory really quickly. This is very much not that.
4)
So old, right? I know, I know. How dare I talk about something that was binged-watched two weeks ago?! The point is, this show is amazing. It's basically tailor-made for my peer group, amirite? It has heart, it's sincere, it talks about being a first-generation something with immigrant parents, it has a multi-ethnic cast that isn't token, or special. They're just people living their lives in an urban setting and it is so sad that this is a thing that's worthy of note. Like, things have gotten better for people of colour, but Fresh off the Boat and Blackish are all about the playing off of being different from the American "norm" and using that for laughs, which, don't get me wrong, is also moving in the right direction, but the characters of Denise and Dev are just people, and they're not defined by their sexuality or colour status and that is so freaking amazing. Or, when they are defined by it, it's in the service of talking about racist casting in Hollywood (see the stand-out episode, "Indians on TV"). I want a world in which niche markets aren't the only place for black stories (e.g. Tyler Perry movies). I want a world where shows like A Different World can exist alongside Fresh off the Boat and a scripted series from Wong Kar Wei or whatever and it's just part of the amazing smorgasbord of television available. The show is funny and has a killer score with loads of classic hip hop and class Aphex Twin (lol!) and I can't love it more.
5) This podcast:Pop Rocket. I went on a new podcast tear a while ago looking for new road trip material for me and the Dotytron, for the rare minutes when we're not blasting the Pirates of the Caribbean theme for our young 'uns. We tried a bunch of different ones, some for a second time: Radio Lab, Love & Radio, All Things Considered, and Pop Rocket. Now, all we want to do is listen to Pop Rocket. I would listen to it when I would run, we listened to it in the car on our way down to visit my sister. Now that we've finished Master of None and the new Mulaney stand-up and we're generally uninspired by TV, we've contemplated just listening to podcasts while we stretch (which is possibly the dorkiest combination of activities, ever). It is that good.
Here is (are) my problem(s) with Radio Lab and others: 1) NPR voice. Is there no diversity in the world of podcasts universally beloved by white people? Do they teach nebbishy voice in public-radio school? I hate the sound of the voices because they're all such a thing. Pop Rocket has people who sound like themselves. That being said, I CANNOT HANDLE John Oliver because I hate his voice and his face. I also don't like someone screaming at me all the time? Sorry?! 2) No perspective. We listened to a Radio Lab episode on Patient Zero and one on the Galapagos, and look - I'm a generally interested person. I like stuff, okay? My interests are far-reaching. HOWEVER, I want you to have a perspective on the stuff. Don't just report to me, because not all of the topics are fascinating enough in and of themselves. I need an angle. FRAME THE ISSUE. On Radio Lab, they say stuff like, "Wow. That is so weird." "Isn't that crazy?" and it's literally the blandest, most obvious reactions. If YOU are not invested in the topic, how am I supposed to be???
I have more points, but let me tell you about why I love Pop Rocket. The core people are amazing - Margaret Wapler is a writer - former arts writer for the LA Times. Oliver Wang is a DJ and academic. Wynter Mitchell is a digital strategist, who came up with the "Straight Outta..." meme for Straight Outta Compton. Guy Brannum is a writer and comedian who is currently working on the Mindy Project. These people KNOW their shiz. They know so much about popular culture and they have thoughts and ideas and Guy Brannum is a brilliant, smart, interested in all things commentator and I can't love it enough. It's so good. Their interests are so wide-ranging and the things they have to say and how they agree or disagree with each other is fantastic.
6) My kids. I freakin' love my kids! We had a crazy weekend that was jam-packed. Friday I had the day off and took the twins to my work where they wreaked havoc and hugged my executive director and then I took them to the ROM where they were claimed to be scared of almost everything but in reality, weren't. Then that night we got a sitter and the Dotytron and I went to try Brando's Fried Chicken which is a pop-up fried chicken place. There was nowhere to sit so we took our chicken to go and sat in the car and ate it while listening to Pop Rocket. We were still hungry and had a million hours to kill so we went and had a second dinner at Porchetta and Co (more fried chicken). Then we went to my brother's belated birthday celebration which was archery tag (more like archery dodgeball) and it was fun and we got home late and it was life-affirming.
The next day we were hosting Friendsgiving, which is 15 adults and 6 kids in our little mouse house. It was such a fun night. We provided turkey and stuffing and I made pies and other people brought more deliciousness and there was a signature cocktail and we talked and laughed and I marveled at being around the table with this group of people, the core group of which have known each other for over 20 years. It is incredible and heartening and I love my beautiful, diverse, talented, funny, accomplished friends with all my heart. I love them. That was another late night.
Sunday was about running a million loads of dishes and then going out to dinner with our friend A and his wife C who were in town from NYC and seeing A's gig, which meant the third night in a row that I didn't get to put my kids down to bed and I felt it keenly. I'm craving it. I love these little nuggets.
Language acquisition for the twins is proceeding at an epic clip and I feel like Lindsay is losing his fat toddler belly and it pains me. Just this morning, I came down from getting dressed and he was in his high chair and he said to me, "Hi, mama. I'm awake now," and I died. DIED. DEAD. GONE. He sleeps on the floor on a pile of blankets in their shared room even though we have a perfectly good crib mattress two feet away. Quincess is still in his crib and he goes down with an arm around a mouse, a moose, and insists on his clutching a book which means that his arms are full.
The Big Yam is a sweet little nut and I love his butt so hard. The other day, he had wandered off and when the Dotytron went to find him, he discovered that the Big Yam had found the iPad, closed our door, and was illicitly watching Team Umi Zoomi. This is the first time we've caught him doing something overtly sneaky and the Dotytron impressed upon him how serious an infraction it is and told him he was supposed to come down and tell me what happened. After 10 minutes, I went up to find him, and he was sitting on the corner of our bed in the dark. READ THAT SENTENCE AGAIN AND TRY NOT TO HAVE YOUR HEART BREAK INTO A MILLION PIECES. I pretended I didn't know what had happened and was like, "Hey buddy, it's dinner time, whatcha doing?" and at first he said, "Nothing," but he stayed where he was. I asked some gently probing questions, "Is there something you want to tell me?" and after a few nos, he broke down and started bawling. Like, those great, hiccuping, gasping sobs because he felt so bad. Genuine kid tears from sadness (as opposed to kid tears from frustration at not getting something, or tears from being a flop when your sibling taps you) will end you.
The other day I came home and the Big Yam was on the couch, looking miserable - he was upset because he couldn't get his piano piece down (!!!!!). I mean, c'mon!!! I did what any self-respecting parent would do, and I put on an OG-Sesame Street video with Don Music:
I'm also into the following meals we've had lately:
Pulled pork sandwiches, made with pork shoulder braised in the slow cooker with apple cider, brown sugar, a bit of soy, and some bourbon. Served on pretzel buns with a bit of my homemade chipotle barbecue sauce, with mashed sweet potatoes and a brussels sprouts and apple slaw.
Freezer rice, minced ginger, garlic, a jar of chopped kimchi, frozen peas, soy, rice wine, sesame oil, a bit of sugar, and shrimp. Topped with a fried egg. That night I was convinced I had norovirus because I felt like I was going to barf on the streetcar - after punishing a bowl and a half of this stuff, realized that I was just hungry.
Freezer eggplant orzo with mozzarella which the kids hated, but which I loved because it was Thursday hell night.
Soup + bread is one of my meal templates. My kids loved orange/red pureed soups so this was a roasted tomato soup pulled from the freezer with leftover pulled pork, sliced apple, and aged cheddar grilled cheese sandwiches. HUGE.
Loblaws sells T&T's coconut bread in a loaf and they'll slice it on site for you. I turned it into French toast and won the hearts of my goon squad for all eternity.
Biscuits from the Ovenly cookbook. Recipe copied below. These have honey in the mix and are brushed with a warm butter-honey mixture (supposed to be hot honey, but I didn't have it, but just imagine!) and then baked a bit more. These were insanely, insanely delicious.
Great Nany Doty's pasta with rosé sauce, and a salad of roasted buttercup squash on a bed of spinach with a lemon tahini dressing and toasted pine nuts.
Smitten's cheddar broccoli soup (which is so much better than my usual recipe), with feta-basil-scallion muffins from the Ovenly cookbook. These muffins were another huge hit. Definitely work making a double batch and then freezing the rest...if I had an inch of extra space in my freezer. Which I don't...because I'm a psycho prepper. I'll post the recipe for the muffins tomorrow.
Annual fall risotto - kale, roasted squash, and bacon with sumac roasted heirloom carrots.
We recently did a Yummy Market run, which means part of the reason I'm out of freezer space is because it's stuffed with pierogies. I always serve them with caramelized onions (pierogies are parboiled and then roasted in the oven with the onions), and the fullest fattest sour cream I can find (Pinehedge Organize 18% for the win!). My local butcher who is a 3rd generation, anti-hipster type, makes very weird, very soft, very onion-y German sausages which are strangely delicious even thought they have no right to be, and the combo of the 'rogies and the sausage made for a killer meal.
Friendsgiving turkey - a full 20lbs. I did the turkey flip thing this time around because I find the air circulation is never good enough to get that full expanse of juicy thigh meat skin properly browned. It worked really well overall, but the flipping process was a mite precarious/fraught.
Smitten's baked ziti, which is basically like my skillet lasagne/regular lasagne/every pasta bake but I made it with Barilla's super skinny penne rigate noodles which made for a high proportion of crusty edges. I am not the kind of parent who is above telling my kids that they "won't like" the layer of bronzed, chewy cheese on top and denuding their portions of it accordingly.
Listen, Smitten Kitchen's Deb Perelman is a freakin' culinary, home cooking saint, and she is justifiably beloved in the food blogging world. She just KNOWS WHAT REGULAR PEOPLE WANT TO EAT AND HOW THEY WANT IT TO TASTE. Which is why her recipes are featured so heavily. She's good for some inspiration and for dialing in exactly what you want. I made her pecan pie for Friendsgiving and people: IT IS SINE NON QUA. Go out and make this right away. Her recipe comes down to two parts: toasting the nuts (why didn't I do this before?! AM I NEW?!?) and replacing the cloying, gummy corn syrup with golden syrup. If you've ever tasted golden syrup (and this was my first time) it has a roasted, toasted, barley-ish depth to it that highlights the nuts, whereas the corn syrup just kinds of drowns the nuts in sweetness. The texture of this pie was divine - mostly nuts mixed evenly with this round, caramely filling. So often when you get pecan pie, it's a thin layer of pecans sitting atop an inch of goo. This was so good.
Still trying to get back into the regular swing of blogging. BUT IT'S ALMOST XMAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
1 t. chopped fresh thyme (I didn't have any, so I omitted)
5 T. hot honey (I just used regular honey)
2 c. cold buttermilk
- Standard biscuit procedure. Mix dry ingredients together in a big bowl. Cut 15 T. of the butter into dry ingredients until the butter is in small, pea-sized pieces. Mix 3 T. of the honey into 1 3/4 c. of the buttermilk (reserve the 1/4 c. in case you need it if the dough is dry) and stir into the dry ingredients until the dry is incorporated.
- Turn the dough onto a flour surface and pat it gently into a 1/2" thick rectangle (approximately 12" x 6"). Fold dough into thirds (like a letter) and then pat it down again so it's 3/4" thick throughout. T
- The recipe says to cut the dough into 8 rectangles, but that's insane. I made 12 and they were hefty...you could probably get away with 14.
- Put the biscuits on a greased baking tray and bake in a preheated 400F oven for 18 minutes. Remove from oven.
- Mix together remaining 2 T. of honey with 1 t. chopped fresh thyme (if using) with the remaining 3 T. of butter (melted). Brush over the tops of the biscuits and reduce oven temperature to 350F. Bake the biscuits for an additional 10 minutes more until they are a burnished, deep golden brown.
Or lack thereof. And then, and then we got a round of stomach bug through the house. Huzzah! So far me and the Big Yam have been spared. Lindsay Lou-Lou got it first, and was a sad, barfy sack yesterday. It was tragic. He barfed for about 4 hours and then was so tired that he was extra slumpy and cuddly. There is something uniquely tragic about when your kid is sick and can only stare dull-eyed into the middle distance. That being said, I took him to our doctor's urgent care clinic (another point for the family health team model! Urgent care hours until 8pm Monday through Thursday!) and he was obviously flirting with the doctor and smiling and being the sweetest, so the doctor thought that it was just a reaction to something he ate. This is before the Quincess was felled and the Dotytron, last night. In case you're keeping track, this is night three of heavily interrupted sleep. In case you're keeping track, this is the third individual visit to the doctor's this week, by a member of Casa Dotytron-Lagerfeld. The Big Yam: finger infection! Me: possible thrush but just a hurty boob! Lindsay Lou-Lou: possible food reaction but more likely stomach bug!
[Edit: Got a call from our doctor's office yesterday afternoon, as it turns out, the strep throat swab they did came back positive. A-mazing]
Clear eyes, strong hearts, people.
In between loads of laundry, let's talk about better things. Things like: how amazing the Big Yam is right now. Usually as the bed time routine draws to a close, I lie next to him and we put our noses together and have a talk. I was telling him that I loved him, and he said he loved me, too. I asked him why he loved me, and this is what he said: "Because you're exactly as I are." !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So, did I mention that I'm most likely getting a late-stage tattoo? Haha. It is to honour the Yeti, as tattoos were really important to him, and it's also a way for me to recognize those I've lost these past few years. In terms of what I'm going to get, that remains to be seen, although I can totally see how it can be a slippery slope. These are the general areas I'm thinking of:
Something linear and geometric
Or, something to honour my beloved cat, Smudge
A delicate floral, maybe?
Or maybe something in a stylized script. Johnny Cash's Flesh and Blood has been on my mind lately (as you can see in the video above). Trying to put it into the lullaby rotation. The Dotytron just came home sick from work yesterday and I showed him the video and he welled up. Proud Baba.
Getting felled by sickness all around lightened up our weekend considerably. I had the pleasure of going tobogganing with the Big Yam and then taking him to his dance class. Guys, he tries so hard. It's the sweetest. Watching your kids navigate the world is heart-breaking. The Big Yam is so sweet and has so few defences to protect him. He's a pretty guileless kid. We were at the play space with our neighbour and her daughter. We were joined by our neighbour's friend and her daughter. As soon as the other girl showed up the girls stuck together and started to shut the Big Yam out. He was set on playing chase so he tried to run around with them, and the next thing I knew, one of the girls was saying, "Big Yam, nooooo!" and I went to intervene and he was standing there, all bashful, arms akimbo, not really understanding what he had done wrong. I asked what had happened and he said, "I was - I was just trying to catch her" and it was the saddest little moment. He's not generally malicious or a precocious kid - he's very innocent and I hate the fact that this innocence is going to be stripped from him, little by little, as the years go by. Because you're exactly as I are.
Last night we ordered pizza, hung out, and watched Frozen together (review to come). Tonight we had a pancetta, squash, and kale risotto, my version of the Olive Garden salad for dinner and will be snacking on cheesecake brownies while we watch the Wolf of Wall Street and I knit. Sounds like a pretty perfect evening for a family of sickies.
Yesterday was our 4 year wedding anniversary. Today is my birthday. We always, always, always forget our wedding anniversary. The only people who remember are my sister and Momma D. We loved the day we got hitched, but the date was and is arbitrary. We've been together for 12 years now, so the date we tied ourselves to the hitching post seems like just another fun day in our fun and crazy life together.
It actually wasn't so fun yesterday. It started with a 5 hour sleep stretch from the Wonder Twins, which was BLISS. Followed by the hell that is the Big Yam finally figuring out how to use a doorknob and abusing that privilege by getting up outta bed whenever he gets it into his Big Giant Head to do so (yesterday it was 5am!) and wanting it to be instant hang times. Not great. I'm thinking of getting one of those child safety door knob covers for the inside door knob in his room so that he can be trapped in there until we see fit to let him out. Life was so much easier when he was imprisoned in his room.
The Wonder Twins also had their scheduled 8-week check-up yesterday. It was their first time meeting our family doctor. I was there for TWO HOURS. The most concerning thing is that Q has one small ear and one regular sized ear:
The small ear is like half the size. Our midwife discovered it and it wasn't picked up by the paediatricians at the NICU, so she wanted us to alert our family doctor. At first, her concern after doing some reading is that "low-set" ears are linked to Down's Syndrome and other chromosomal abnormalities. However, according to her, there isn't much literature about just ONE low-set ear. I've been reading up on some of the chromosomal abnormalities associated with low-set ears and Q doesn't really show any of the other characteristics. Apparently, because pinna (outer ear) development occurs at a critical juncture, chromosomal abnormalities associated with low-set ears tend to have other characteristics - heart issues, cleft palates, extra digits, clenched hands, etc. The only way to find out would be genetic testing, I'm assuming. Also, I think it would be strange for chromosomal abnormalities in only one of an identical twin set, but who knows? I read this recent National Geographic article about twins and this article from Scientific American. Both articles suggest something that makes sense to me - that there can be genetic differences between identical twins - due to copying errors or environmental mutations, etc.
Our family doctor thinks that it's more likely that Q's ear is related to his flattening head. The head flattening could be caused by two reasons: #1 (best case scenario) is muscle tightening that means he favours lying on one side of his head - this can be addressed with physiotherapy and stretches. #2 is worse. It could be that the skull plates of his head are fusing together, creating flattening and bulging (the side of his head with the wonky ear is a little bulgy) as his brain grows and has no place to grow, which could also be displacing his ear. The type of flattening our doctor noticed and the way the ears are displaced indicates that it might be one of the rarest forms of craniosynostosis, lambdoid synostosis. The treatment is usually skull-busting surgery between 4-6 months of age, followed by a corrective helmet, worn TWENTY THREE hours of the day for an additional 6 months.
Le sigh. It was a lot to take in. I went to the doctor by myself because the Dotytron stayed home to look after the Big Yam, who we kept home yesterday. We're being referred back to the neo-natal follow up clinic to be seen by one of the paediatricians there and that's the first step. In the interim, our doctor is trying to arrange physiotherapy for Q. I hope he doesn't end up looking like the Great Gazoo for the first year of his life, but it's better than a chromosomal abnormality. We are slightly discouraged and worried and stressed about this whole situation. The thing with twins is - your worries and concerns keep ping-ponging between them. In the NICU, it was all about how Professor Gantok was all barfy and had the brain cysts (which still might be there for all we know - follow up ultrasound is later this month) and how he was having mad apnea spells. Now it's all about Q's issues.
Professor Gantok seems to be doing fine. He basically just gains weight and looks scared. Those are his two primary skills right now. We call him "Gloria Gaynor" because of his ability to pack on the lbs. Gloria Gaynor, FYI, is the woman who sang "I Will Survive." For some reason we find it incredibly funny.
When they mark them on the growth curve, for all the variables (head circumference, weight, length) they basically are off the charts (in the bad way - as in, they don't appear) if you treat them like 2 month olds. If you track them as if they were born at term (which would have been last Friday - my actual due date), then they're in the 15-50th percentile for those markers. Poor little underachieving bubbies. Some Wonder Twins they are.
We went into my birthday feeling a bit low. At the end of the day though, no matter what happens, I reminded myself and the Dotytron that we are lucky to be the parents of our three little wonders. Whatever is in store for us, we are a family and we will weather it together - with poor taste, humor, often times misplaced anger, and occasionally, if we're lucky, a smidgen of grace.
Look at this little elf' and his weird noggin.
The Big Yam is a handful and I started the day not being very nice to him. This morning he rolled up again at some ungodly hour (maybe 6:30) and was all ready to roll. I was pretty snappy at him. The lack of consistent, uninterrupted sleep manifests itself in my inability to rally in the morning. Usually, I'm an out-and-out morning person, but I'm definitely having problems getting rolling. The Dotytron's low period is in the mid afternoon. They woke me up before the Big Yam went to daycare and sang "happy birthday" to me and then gave me a homemade card. Apparently the Dotytron asked him if he had anything nice he wanted to say about his mama when they were making the card, and the Big Yam was like, "no!" Haha - I don't blame him - what would he have nice to say about his short and curt grumpy mum?
This guy:
That was taken in Geneseo when my sis gave him a pair of Thomas pyjamas. He came running out, so proud and happy and I said to him, "Look at your in your cute Thomas jammies!" and he looked down at himself and said really softly, "I know." LOL! How cute is that?
He's been working through some stuff lately. To do with electricity. He went with the Dotytron to the Science Centre and got scared by the electricity display. For the past week or so, he's been talking it out. "Electricity makes a cracking sound. A crackling cracking sound." In Geneseo, we were at a play area with a big plastic dome and some coarse, thick-grained sand/fine stones. He would throw the sand/stones at the plastic dome and would say: "Electricity!" (imagine the sound it makes). It was pretty cute and smart. I love it when he synthesizes stuff. It's so interesting to watch.
The rest of my birthday was pretty good. We went to Rose and Sons for lunch/brunch. It's a teeny tiny place - the two car seats wouldn't even fit in the 4 person booth - we had to stack them somewhat precariously. The food was first rate. I would definitely go back. It's kind of Jewish influenced soul-food - so they do patty melts and fried chicken and yummy-sounding sweet brunch items. I want to try their dinner menu. They also recently opened an outdoor barbecue joint called Big Crow that I'd like to check out.
My sandwich - the PLB special - a cheddar melt with pickles, sausage, bacon, fried egg. Served with cherry jam. This was freaking delicious. The Dotytron got the 3 egg special with schmaltz fried hashbrowns, and their house-smoked thick cut bacon.
I came home, took a nap, and woke up to a Canada Post delivery person dropping off a box at our door. The Dotytron and I don't usually do birthday/anniversary/Xmas presents. It's just not our thing. We prefer to just do dinner together and hang or something low key and low concept. The package was a surprise present - a new juicer! Huzzah! I'm pumped - it's going to make our CSA so much more cost-effective. We're meeting our friends at the Brickworks tomorrow and I'm definitely going to pick up some beets and other produce for juicing. Can't wait.
Then the Roomie came over with her adorable daughter. We hung out and ordered Mexican food. The Dotytron made me a birthday ice cream pie but as of press time, it hadn't set up enough. We had 4 kids under 4 afoot, there was a giant mess of toys, and the Wonder Twins were feeding constantly. It was a bit of a crazy stressful tornado but I guess this is my life now. I can't complain. I am well loved.
I keep meaning to post, I truly do, but I find that the days are voraciously consumed by the voracious consumption habits of the wonder twins. Before I know it, it's night time and I have nothing to show for it but sleeping babies with full tummies, a nap, and a home-cooked dinner if I'm really knocking it out of the ballpark.
We are spending a lot of time on the new deck:
Please pardon the house it is attached to
She's a beauty. Cedar and pressure-treated (the cedar is all the parts you can see) with big, beautiful wide steps and a cedar screen to hide our neighbours' siding. When we sit on the deck or lie on the deck, the giant tree in our neighbour's yard makes it feel like you're at the cottage, and the wide expanse of the cedar dropping off at the edge makes it feel like a giant dock (the deck is about 280 square feet). We love it out there. What was born out of a sleepless night of fevered, pregnancy-induced nesting home-improvement inspiration turns out to be one of the best things we've ever done - and that's even given the fact that we spent a good chunk of change on a deck during the rainiest summer in recent memory.
The screen will be a home to some vertical gardening, and maybe a cedar bench next summer that I will build in the spring. Or maybe the bench will go on the other side. I'm definitely going to get our electrician to provide power out there next summer and then I'm going to string some globe string lights out there, to mimic every patio in Williamsburg. From the concrete pad, we've got a lovely stage and eventually, we'll hang a sheet and get a projector and do late night movie nights for the neighbourhood kidlets. Already, it kills me when the Big Yam climbs on the chairs along the side and conspires with our neighbour kids. It's so cute. Talking to your friends through a fence is part of that romanticised Norman Rockwell upbringing that I so want to deliver to my progeny.
Anyway, by the time the day is done, there hasn't been time for the following three things I'm trying to fit into my schedule: exercise/stretching, working on my quilt, and blogging. I'm getting some time in for reading, we watch some TV (currently, The Sopranos) or a movie, we've been taking the Big Yam for a daily dip in the pool/splash in the pad/run in the wading pool, and we've been hosting a slew of visitors. I shouldn't feel guilty but I do have some low-level anxiety when I see the pile of fabric begging to be cut into pieces and feel my atrophying muscles.
Today is the first day we've had the Big Yam home with us. The Dotytron took him to the Science Centre. I'm cautiously optimistic. I figure one morning outing that provides us with a solid 2 hour afternoon nap brings us to the time we would have picked him up from daycare anyway.
This weekend was lovely. On Friday night our neighbours took the Big Yam for Friday Night movie night - so cute - behold:
Saturday morning Momma D came over and watched the wonder twins so we could take the Big Yam on an epic bike ride around the Leslie Spit (aka Tommy Thompson Park). It feels so good to be back on the ye olde steed again! I've missed my bike, so! Then we had Dr. Rei and Hanbo over for a dinner of oysters, lobster, corn, potato salad, salad, and Hanbo's famous chocolate cake on the deck. It was so nice. The Big Yam was pretty well behaved, but he's been doing this thing that breaks our hearts. We've had so many people over lately that at a certain point, he gets bored of the dinner conversation and goes back into the house. He'll be okay for a time but then he'll come to the screen door and say, "Baba? I want something" and when we ask him what he wants, he shrugs his shoulders. If we keep pressing him, he'll walk back towards the living room doing his sad shoulder shrugs. It KILLS US. He doesn't want to say what he wants (us to spend time with him) because he's afraid we're going to say no! TELL ME THAT DOESN'T SLAY YOU! He's getting confused between asking for TV (where we almost always say no) and asking for us to just spend time with him. The sad shoulder shrugs are so sweet/heartbreaking.
One of my favorite moments from the past few weeks was early when we had brought the twerps home. The Big Yam loves a good toot joke. Any time someone toots, he grins this wide grin, looks at you, and asks, "Who TOOTED?!" and then we all laugh. A few days after we brought the babies home, the Big Yam was put in time out for being a maniac of some form or another. He was sitting on the stairs in time out, I was on the couch, and from the kitchen, we heard a big toot (the tooter shall remain anonymous to protect the innocent). The Big Yam looked over at me, and I caught his eye, but he didn't dare say anything because he was in time out, so we just shared a significant, knowing look and it still makes me laugh to this day.
Anyway, on Saturday we ate with Dr. Rei and Hanbo and laughed and talked about Edward Snowdon and looked up Danzig videos and checked out Anthony Kiedis' moobs and their "moobility" (Dotytron's lingo) in the Under the Bridge video to see if he was working out. You know, the usual stuff.
https://vine.co/v/hZQMQqnh5Fv Hanbo was like, "which one is the baby that always looks scared?" and the Dotytron was like, "I don't know what you're talking about," which is weird, because it's CLEARLY Professor Turtle. To wit, check out this Vine that the Dotytron made, which captures Professor Turtle as he is, 90% of the time: https://vine.co/v/hZQMQqnh5Fv
We've taken to calling L, Gantok, because he looks EXACTLY like this character, Gantok the Turtle from this picture book we love, called Pomelo Begins to Grow. See for yourself:
Here is a photo of Q's Jean Chretien lip in full effect:
Sunday we met the roomie at our closest farmer's market and I ate a delicious jerk chicken sandwich and some gluten and dairy free sweet potato doughnuts. We saw our neighbours there and so we went home and posse'd up and took the kids to the splash pad. Then our friends S & P came over for dinner and we visited with them and had takeout from this gas station barbecue place, Leslieville Pumps, that makes the most amazing fried pickles, poutine, and pretty tasty smoked chicken, pulled pork, and pulled brisket sandwiches. I also cheated and had some of the dessert that S & P brought. I've been testing the dairy-free limits lately, with small amounts of dairy in baked goods. I haven't eaten a chunk of cheese or chugged a glass of milk, but I figure 1 cup of sour cream in a cake or some butter in the crust of one serving of a tart is okay. We've been watching the babies afterwards and they don't seem to be spitting up more. We started testing them on a few bottles of my dairy-contaminated freezer milk yesterday and so far, it's been okay. I don't think the spitting up that we've seen can be attributed to the dairy and not to putting them down after a big feed. Still nervous about resuming eating dairy, but so far, so good.
The weather was so beautiful on the weekend and I was so elated from being back on my bike and going to the farmer's market and doing all these wonderful things in my 'hood that I totally got all PLUR and spent the whole weekend talking about how much I love my city and my 'hood. To the Dotytron. Who is already WELL AWARE of how much I love my city and my 'hood and I think was getting all weirded out. Look, I get stir-crazy being cooped up inside the house, okay?
On Monday, our friends R & R came over and brought their sweet little babby, M, who has the longest eyelashes in the world. They brought us lunch. This is how they roll:
Yup, a delicious, seared salmon composed Nicoise salad. All beautifully plated on to their own platters. Those guys are crazy! Not pictured: the delicious, lard-crust strawberry rhubarb tarlettes they made.
This is all to say that we have the best friends and so far, a pretty darned good summer, even if I'm not getting a chance to run or work on my quilt.
Last Thursday morning was a day like any other. I woke up, struggled to get the Big Yam ready to go to daycare, went to pee before leaving the house, and then noticed something...odd...in my drawers. I paged my midwife and she said that I should go and get checked out. She asked if I was supposed to go to Sunnybrook or my TEGH.
FUNNY YOU SHOULD ASK, MIDWIFE. Why, just the DAY BEFORE, I had met with my regular OB (not the Sunnybrook one) and had inquired of her, "So, on the off-chance I go into labour in the new few weeks, do I go to Sunnybrook or TEGH?" She very blithely responded, "Oh, you're at 32 weeks, so we [TEGH] would keep you. But I don't think you'll be going early. You know, everyone says twins come early, but all my twins go to term." FORESHADOWING ALERT!
Earlier last week, I had also asked my friend at work, G, "What do Braxton Hicks feel like?" because I had been feeling a tightening in my belly that wasn't uncomfortable, but was definitely a something. On Wednesday, I stopped at the fish store to scope out their soft shelled crabs and walked TWO AND A HALF KILOMETRES home, moving verrrrrrry slowly, because my gut was belly was so tight. FORESHADOWING ALERT!
So I went to TEGH and was admitted to maternal triage. They hooked me up to a bunch of different monitors, and lo and behold, I was having contractions every 5 minutes. The OB on duty came and took a look at me, and said, well, this is early, we'll see if we can keep you steady at this rate for 24 hours, but you won't be going back to work. Me: "Today?" Her: "Uhhh, no, until these babies are born." Me: "But I sit all day at work," Her: "Well, you'll be on bed rest." Me: "But I can still go for walks and stuff right?" Dotytron (who had come to be with me on his way to work) and her, in unison: "YOU'RE NOT LISTENING. BED REST MEANS DOING NOTHING, BECAUSE WE WANT THESE BABIES IN AS LONG AS POSSIBLE." Me: "I don't think I'm processing this well."
Then she checked me and clucked in regret, "Oh, you're not going anywhere, you're 2-3cm dilated. We'll hope that we can keep these babies in you for the next 24 hours, but you're here." So I called my midwife who said that I was basically in TEGH jail. The roomie also said that they would set a series of goals for me - like, if I make it through the next 24 hours, then they'd hope for 48, then maybe a week, then maybe two weeks. Either way, I wouldn't be allowed to go home, in case I delivered there.
I got the whole epidural lecture again - and this OB's hands were BIG. The Dotytron after the fact was like, Dr. M is pure rural animal birthing styles. She just looks like her natural environment is birthing cows on a farm. I said I would think about it. I got moved to a labour and delivery room, and my midwife told me to page her when I reached 5-6 cm dilation. My contractions were coming every 4 minutes, but on the pain scale of 1-10, I was like, they were maybe a 1 or 2? Maybe? So I hung out with the Dotytron and wrapped things up at work, emailed my manager, etc., etc.,
It came time to make the epidural decision. I didn't want to have one. I was in active labour at that point - 5-6 cm dilated and again, not really feeling the contractions at all. I called my midwife and was like, "Hey S! What's up?" And she was like, "Don't ask what's up with me! What's up with you?" Me: "Well, I am 5-6 cm dilated and you wanted me to call you?" Her: "You're in active labour and you're asking me how I'm doing? You are crazy."
The anesthetist came and talked to me and gave me the whole "informed consent" talk about the procedure, outlining how it's done and the risks. This was probably the 2nd most freaked out point of this whole birth story. I was FREAKED. Um, nicking a nerve and then me having a splitting headache for 6 weeks? Potential (I mean, 1 in 4 million, but still!) paralysis? Not my bag, sons. I think the issue is that by the time most women want the epidural, they're like the woman down the hall, who was apparently SCREAMING for one. They don't care about the risks.. The fact that I was listening calmly wasn't doing me any favours. I was pretty scared. The anesthetist was also like, it would be more preferable if you could feel the contractions more, so that we would be able to know for sure the epidural was working, but what can you do? My pain tolerance/threshold is what it is. I ended up getting one because the high change of an emergency section for Twin B meant that it would have been getting knocked out, general anesthesia styles if it came to that, which is less ideal than if they can just bump up the meds and I'm conscious.
The midwife shows up (in a birthing support capacity) and the Roomie showed up (in an awesome friend/birthing support capacity) and then I kind of laboured until around midnight. The OB came and checked me and said that I was around 8-9cm dilated, but she didn't want to stretch me to 10cm dilation because if I didn't hit 10 naturally, there was a chance that I would close up again for Twin B and then we'd have to wait, which is less ideal. In the course of checking me, she broke my water and got doused, and then it was GO TIME. They wheeled me into the OR.
I pushed maybe 3 times, but twerp A made his way out on his own, basically. He started crying right away and then the pediatrician and her team took him away to do the Apgar-y stuff. Then it was B's turn. Unfortunately, in the course of getting A, the OB had broken B's water sac. The way the midwife explained it is that it's harder to grab a hold of the babies if the water breaks, because you don't have the air/water balloon to help you move them around and figure out what you're grabbing. It's also jarring for the baby...the Roomie likened it to getting your head pushed under water repeatedly. So you can take a breath, but then you're struggling and it's stressful. The next five minutes were intense. Dr. M was ELBOW DEEP in my nethers and was like, "I can't get the feet, that's a hand, no, I can't reach the feet, call the anesthetist, we've got to section." The whole room got really quiet and intense and I was scared and I know the Dotytron was scared. The anesthetist was basically walking in with the syringes all prepped when Dr. M said, "I've got the feet!" and pulled B out by his legs. He was obviously kind of shocked and scored really low on his initial Apgar. They kind of showed him to me and then whisked him away.
And that, was that. The midwife, the Roomie, and I stayed in the OR and checked out my placenta (which was pretty cool, if you're into that kind of thing - you could see the dividing membrane between the two amniotic sacs!) and the Dotytron went to the NICU to be with the twerps and check them out.
We named them the next day, after going to the NICU and taking a good, long look at them. That's Lennox on the left and Quincy on the right.
Look at Q vamping for the camera! So cute! L got banged up on the way out.
We are totally, completely, utterly in love. Guys, I have THREE sons, now.
It's been muy silencio around here lately. Apologies for that. I can't say that I've been doing anything spectacularly interesting with my time. Just reading, some minor crafting, and mobilizing forces and schedules and energy reserves to face the coming onslaught that is: THE HOLIDAYS. Plus, after the whirlwind that was Friendsgiving and Pie Party, I think I've needed to just zone out and decompress as much as possible.
One of my favorite things currently is coming home and making sure I get into the house quietly, so that I can watch the Dotytron and the Big Yam in the kitchen getting dinner ready. It's just funny and cute watching them interact. For example, from my vantage point at the front door yesterday, I saw the Big Yam standing on the stool by the sink and then he said, "Woooooowwwwww," followed almost immediately by the Dotytron going, "DON'T EAT THAT! IT'S YUCKY!" because apparently he had plucked a piece of last night's leftover turkey from the SINK DRAIN and stuck it in his mouth. The Big Yam's drawn-out, "wooooooowwwww" is so awesome. Mostly because it sounds vaguely sarcastic and it's always random things that prompt it.
My other favorite part is when the Big Yam realizes I'm home and shouts, "Mama!" and then comes running out to tell me about whatever is on his mind (usually as of late, Dora-related) and gives me a big hug. It's a cute little ritual that warms the cockles of my heart. Last night he came running to the door and said, "Mama!" "Moon. Stars." which was pretty freakin' adorable - the Dotytron and the Big Yam had been talking about the night sky on their way into the house.
I think the heart-warmth comes from feeling so grateful that I have a partner in life, love, and parenting who shoulders an equal amount of responsibility for the big stuff. As a younger, more biting feminist, I used to have a very black and white view of equality. Equality meant that EVERYTHING was 50-50. Finances? 50-50 (regardless of differentials in earnings). Household chores? 50-50. I'm still pretty bad about stuff but being with the Dotytron has resulted in incremental steps towards less rigid parameters. The problem with being rigidly 50-50 about everything is that I'm a micro-manager. So even if I expect my partner to do 50% of something, it still has to be done to my specifications. That is like, totally obnoxious. I can admit it. Having the Big Yam has definitely helped to relieve the micro-managing. I had no say on what happened during Dotytron Daycare in the summer. Sure, if I wanted the boys to get some shiz done, they had to work that into their day, but I wasn't responsible for packing the snacks or the bag or figuring out activities. I like the freedom it gives me to be able to do book club or a movie night without having to "worry" about what the Big Yam and the Dotytron are getting up to. Hell, more often than not, the Dotytron is a much better parent than I could ever hope to be.
We play to our strengths. Home renovations and dealing with contractors? That's all me, kids. Packing up the car? Over here (I wouldn't have it any other way). Imaginative, unstructured play? Mostly the Dotytron. Bedtime routine? All Dotytron all the time (I come in for stories, but duck out when it's the moment of truth time). Bath? Mostly the Dotytron. It's a good system.
Tonight for dinner we had leftover borscht and proscuitto, pear, and brie panini
Tuesday night's dinner - so freakin' good. Open-faced turkey sandwich on white bread with gravy and leftover Friendsgiving beets and brussels sprouts. I loves me an open-faced turkey sandwich so hard. It's a holdover from when my family used to do road trips and we'd stop at Howard Johnson's and I'd get a hot turkey sandwich and a brownie sundae. So boss. Nailed the gravy, too - it had a nice overtone from the white wine I used to deglaze the pan.
Mad soups and sandwiches around here lately. Last week's curried acorn squash soup with the Dotytron's signature tuna melts.
...my heart feels like it's going to explode sometimes from all my love for my adorable friends. We received our wedding invites yesterday for H & A's wedding in Cleveland and we are BEYOND pumped. Those two are the sweetest, most adorablest, most a**-kickingly-awesome-at-making-halloween-costumes pair of doppelgangers, ever. They're just the best of the best. My feelings on matrimony aside, nothing warms the cold, black cockles of my heart more than seeing two best people throw their lot together in life and become even MORE best. My only gripe with them is that they insist on living in the United States, when it's so obvious that they're socialist pinkos at heart and should really be living in Canada. Specifically, Ontario. More geographically specifically, Toronto. Preferably, within walking distance, but I'm willing to negotiate a bit on that.
Then my friends R & R did this recently. I found the article hilarious because their endearing adorableness shines through. I can't believe we only started hanging out like, last year. Best new friends of 2011, hands down. Also, I can't believe that the first time we hung out socially, was at AYCE Japanese in Markham and they claimed to be lightweights. Those two are class acts. Like, every time you go to their house they have tonnes of beer and mutton patties on hand and homemade cookies. When you come to **our** house, you've scarcely crossed our lil' ugmo threshold before I'm barking at you with all the finesse of a Brigitte Nielson, Eastern-Bloc Gestapo type to take off your shoes before coming in the house and then offering you a drink of either: milk, water, or apple cider that's turned to vinegar. I will then exhort you to push aside the piles of folded socks and underwear on the couch and "make yourself at home." I am the definition of déclassé, even though I was born with a gilt spoon in my mouth.
Then I found out that my friend P got accepted into TUM (that's Toronto Underground Market to you) and I'm so excited for him to do well! Having tasted his entry (butter chicken) before, I think it's well deserving of being on TUM's illustrious roster and I'm mad jelly that 500 other lucky Torontonians get to taste his wares. Add to that this week, S (P's partner) is participating in The Artist Project and I'm beyond thrilled for the two of them individually and as a couple.
There is so much talent, smarts, moxie, and funny in our extended crew that I'm humbled by it all. It makes me feel like a right slouch but I'm so glad that I get to bask in their reflected glory.
This week is madness. After a two week hiatus, class starts on Tuesday night. Wednesday is the Dotytron's night to do boring music stuff with other music nerds of the highest order. Thursday is the art opening, but we might duck out. Friday, I'm having my friend E over. Saturday is the art show, then dinner with some Supper-Club-y crew. Sunday is a baby shower in the 'Loo for the cutest, sweetest preggo I know, N. I'm getting tired and overwhelmed just writing that out.
Tales of a Mama Dread - this is my new favorite Saturday afternoon, it's-too-cold-outside-to-play activity with the Big Yam: a rubbermaid tub, a le creuset pot, some water, some kitchen utensils and some blue food colouring. Look at him in his undershirt! He looks like a Chinese worker in Hong Kong - all he's missing is a farmer's blow into the street and a toothpick and a Marlboro.
The Big Yam chowing down on a leftover Chino Loco burrito.
Tonight's dinner was a spinach and feta brown rice casserole with panko topping. So easy. I've posted the recipe below.
Bit of a snoozy chapstick post. I'm feeling kind of tired tonight - I biked to work today and I'm hoping to re-start a yoga regimen of sorts. Har.
1 T. butter 1 onion, thinly sliced 1.5 lbs of spinach, thinly sliced minced garlic or roasted garlic 4 cups cooked brown rice 2 eggs 1 c. of yoghurt 400 g. of feta cheese 2 c. panko canola oil
- sauté the onion, in the butter, with a tablespoon of oil until golden. Add the garlic and the spinach in batches until it's all wilted. Season lightly with salt and pepper. - mix the spinach, the brown rice, 2 eggs, the yoghurt together in a large bowl. Crumble in the feta cheese. Season again gently with salt and pepper. - pour into a 9x13" pan or other similar combination of casseroles and top with panko. Drizzle panko with canola oil and bake the casserole in a 400F oven for about 30 minutes covered with a piece of foil, and then, as soon as the panko is golden brown, covered with foil until heated through.
my name is karl lagerfeld. i'm a lucky button, buckshot shorty, and an industrious pig. i write about food, popular culture, film, books, politics, theory, and the ephemera of my life. a can of chinotto once ruined my night. the rest, as they say, is history.
Tressie Mc 
