AfricanKelli

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Remember when I said I can’t read a sewing pattern to save my life? I wasn’t kidding.
I present my latest sewing blunder, in full effect. This was intended as a baby gift — a cute little summer romper dress. I love the colors, the cut and the apparent simplicity of the design.

Ah, from the front, you are so cute. So sweet. So very hippie 1970s child running through field of daisies.

From the back you are pure evil. Look how your edges don’t match. And what is that giant tear in the fabric?

Oh right. That giant tear. That would be a seam trimming gone terribly awry.
Thankfully, I’ve found someone patient enough to give me some sewing lessons. I brought this to a friend’s house last night and after she calmed down from her fit of laughter, she pulled out an entire trunk of childrens clothing she’s designed, piece, patterned, etc. I was sent home with the homework of cutting out two new dresses and returning with a notebook to take plenty of suggestions down in ink.
I know practice makes perfect. So, I’m trying to hide my impatience and promise myself I’ll try this again. And if she can’t help me, I’m pretty sure the children’s section at Target is the next stop.

~K

This weekend had its highs and lows of domestic engineering. In some ways, I felt like Martha herself — twirling about in an apron, cooking, knitting, cleaning, sewing, singing along to the radio. I crave weekends like this — when they are simply all about me. I eat what I want, when I want. I laze around the house watching foreign films, with subtitles in full effect. I listen to ridiculous amounts of NPR. And I can do all of this naked if I want to an no one is the wiser. Ha!

Last week I received a surprise gift from Jessica — a new cupcake cookbook. (Love it!) I spent much of Saturday morning watching “The Motorcycle Diaries” while reading it and picking out my Sunday baking selection. Carrot orange raisin cupcakes it was. Perfect! Then I picked up other new cookbook — vegetarian wonder — The Moosewood Cookbook. I selected sweet potato pancakes to serve for brunch the following day. They would be a lot of effort, but they sounded wonderful. Paired with a nice fruit salad and the wonder cucpakes, my neighbor’s would be pleased with the invitation to an afternoon meal.

At first, all was well in the world. I made the cupcakes, minus the frosting, and they are delicious. I substituted apple sauce for half the oil and was pleased with the choice. They are dense, and the golden raisins give them a touch of sweetness that is just right. I will make these again. While baking, I enjoyed, “The Girl from Paris.” It is a sweet story.

Alas, it was three hours into my Sunday morning cooking when my guests arrived and I realized something had gone very, very wrong. While I followed the sweet potato recipe somewhat, I apparently do not have the knack for pan frying. I first tried margarine — big mistake. My small kitchen filled with angry, stinky smoke. When I switched to canola oil, I thought I was doing well. Yes, they were a bit burned on the edges, but they were golden and seemed crispy, per the recipe’s instructions.

Wrong again. They were burnt on the outside and raw in the middle. Gah! The looked gross. The smelled gross. They tasted notsogood. With two guests standing in my kitchen ready to be fed, I wondered, “What would Martha do?” I loaded up a plate of fruit and cupcakes for my neighbors and asked them to take it home and return in five minutes — giving me a second to pull myself together. I was so disappointed that all this effort was in vain. The sweet potato concoction when straight in the trash. I threw the rest of the food in the fridge and grabbed my pocketbook. Mexican food at a local burrito joint it was. I brought the rest of the food into the office today for my coworkers.

It wasn’t a complete loss, but nonetheless, it was a lot of work only to end up eating chips and salsa. Next time, smaller pancakes and plan on recipes well tested when inviting over guests.

~K

Never heard of the Tropical Diet? There is a reason. The Mediterranean diet, yes. Lots of olive oil, good for you fats, etc. The Japanese diet, again, yes. Lots of fish, rice and a little wasabi never hurt anyone. When I heard The Havana Cafe was a good dinner spot, I was excited to try it out. There are three of these Cuban-inspired restaurants in Phoenix. I happily met a friend last night for dinner and we each started with a bowl of soup. I had black bean and he had Chilean cabbage. Both were very good. They are the only dishes I would recommend.
Our tapas were fried black bean fritters, with a mint green avocado dip, and a bowl of super greasy peppers and sausage. I’m not a Pork fan, so I avoided the sausage, but tried everything else. It was all gross. I don’t eat a lot of fried foods, and when I do, I expect them to be overwhelmingly delicious — like a tostada or deep fried ice cream. These tapas were not worth the calories.
Dinner was arroz con pollo. Again, it was okay, but not great. The best part of the dish was the heart of palm garnish. Yum!
In short, if you want great tropical food (i.e., black beans, rice, fried platains, lots of heavy meats) go to Nicaragua. The food is much better and much less inexpensive.
If you are in Phoenix, avoid the Cubano and head over to Rosita’s. You won’t be disappointed and you’ll have saved yourself at least $30.

~
Several of you have asked where I swim and if I do so outdoors. I swim at two different pools regularly — both definitely outdoors. The only indoor pool I’ve ever taken a liking to is the natatorium at NAU. Otherwise, they are sticky and typically stink of chlorine. I’d prefer the sunshine, thankyouverymuch.
One pool I swim at is near my home in the suburbs, the other is downtown, not to far from my office. I coach an adult masters swim program twice a week at the downtown location. It sits in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in Phoenix, literally at the base of Camelback Mountain.

Mountain. Pool. This is a much more impressive photo first thing in the morning when the sun is coming over the butte.

One of my favorite places to be.

Happy Friday y’all,
K

I had the craziest dream last night — one for the memory books. (Or the blog, natch.) I went to a benefit concert for Africa as Angelina and Brad’s guest.
That Angelina and Brad.
I remember arriving at the gates and having Brad recognize me and escort me backstage — much to my friend’s shock — only to throw my arms around Angelina. She was so happy to see me! And I kept telling them, “I’m just so happy you guys are happy. I mean after the scandal and all, you look great.” We talked Africa and strategies for ending global poverty and it was such fun to hang out with them.

[Note to self: Less US Weekly. More National Geographic.]

As if this dream wasn’t strange enough, when I woke up, I also remembered going to a salon and requesting a “Shaggy bob. Just take off the bottom part. It’s too hot.”

Then I ran my fingers through my hair and remember that wasn’t the dream. Pretty sure I never uttered “Dorothy Hamil,” but it’s okay. It certainly is cooler, although I do feel like I’m living a “Not Dudley Moore! I said Demi Moore!” moment.

~K

Goodness gracious. I seemed to have started quite the conversation about our eating habits and obesity in America. I thank everyone for their comments. Obviously, our culture caters to “bigger is better.” It is difficult to fight.

Anyway — thank you! I have enjoyed reading what you’ve had to say; it makes me feel better we are all thinking about this and trying to figure out how to make changes in our own lives for the better.

~K