A day of unplanned meandering.

I woke up this morning with no specific agenda.  I had a list of things to do, but no specific order or priorities or timeframe to complete them in.  Honestly, I can’t remember the last time this has happened to me.  How did I get to this point of continuous overscheduling, overplanning, and overbooking?  I am SO over it.  Prior to moving to Charlotte, I envisioned every day being like today:  a day full of unplanned meandering about the city.  Days filled with simple things like walking around and trying restaurants.  Meeting people.  Talking food.

I realize wanting EVERY day to be this way is unrealistic.  But how about EVERY weekend day?  Is that too much to hope for?

I laid in bed for a while thinking about all the possibilities of the day, before heading out on my Sunday run.  The Charlotte area had some crazy flash flooding on Friday, and the park behind my condo was literally under five feet of water!  Thankfully the water has resided, but the whole area is basically a giant cow chip now.  So, I decided to hit the city streets and explore some neighborhoods I don’t usually get to by foot.

After my run, shower, breakfast, and lazy time, I headed out to take some exterior photos of restaurants I’m planning to write reviews of this week.  I played restaurant stalker for a while, got a few disapproving looks from various restaurant patrons (ahhh the life of a food writer *sigh*), then headed to Central Coffee Co. to try out their goods and take advantage of their free wifi.

Can I just say, I love coffee shops.

There are always interesting people around at coffee shops.  People chatting and people who don’t want to chat at all <me>.  People seeking inspiration <me> and people who just exude creativity.

I also love coffee shops for the fresh brewed coffee (obv.) and endless supply of tasty treats to sample (double obv.).

When I arrived at Central Coffee Co, I found a random seeming building that sure didn’t look like much from the outside.  It sits at the corner of Central Avenue and Louise and has a tiny awkward parking lot.  I wasn’t getting a good vibe as I walked up to the door, and I was almost hesitant to go inside.

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Right when I opened the doors, that comforting smell a freshly ground coffee beans washed over me and I realized that the inside of this unassuming coffee shop told a completely different story.  The shop was very long and narrow inside, with one wall of exposed brick running the entire length.

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The walls were lined with a handful of small tables, mismatched chairs, and a swanky sitting area complete with white leather chairs near the fireplace.

I eyeballed their large selection of bakery treats, not sure which to go with.  When I asked the barista how the zucchini bread was, he got a big smile on his face and said it was “awesome.”  When the employees get excited about the food, that’s when you KNOW it’s good.

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I went with my standard small black French Roast coffee (I’m hardcore like that) and a slice of that vegan zucchini bread, then grabbed one of the tables along the brick wall.  Not only did they have free wi-fi, but they also had ample plugs for laptop charging = very happy blogger.

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I sat back in my chair took a long sip of my coffee, and soaked in every ounce of this place that I could.  Every sight, smell, and sound.  The music was playing at the perfect decibel, and the barista stood at the counter, head bobbing to the rhythm, waiting for patrons in need of service.  Strangers were sitting by the fireplace trading their top restaurant picks and their desires to try newly opened spots.  The lights were dim and unabrasive, one of which was perfectly placed over my table.  Occasionally, I would hear the coffee grinder buzz in the distance and that familiar smell would waft back over towards my table.  I sat typing away on my computer and snapping random photos for a while before sitting back and savoring the zucchini bread.  Every bite of the bread exuded intense cinnamon flavor.  It was moist and slightly sticky, which made the crumbs hug my fork begging to be eaten.  And I obliged.

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As I relished my coffee, I realized this whole place was speaking to me.  From the chalkboard menus on the walls, to the exposed beam ceilings and warehouse style air ducts.  And of course, there was the giant biscotti perched in a glass jar on the counter. There was just something about this place.

Something right.  

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I think I found my new spot. Smile

Central Coffee Co. on Urbanspoon

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I gave up cereal.

OH THE HORRRRORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My grumbling belly wants to know why the heck I’ve decided to torture myself in such a way, given my well-known love and infatuation for cereal. Why would I willingly rip such a dependable source of joy from my life?  And what the heck did cereal do to deserve this unjust exile?

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Lately, I’ve turned into a major snack monster.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m all about snacking and eating small meals throughout the day.  I’m also all about incorporating lots of delicious yet nutritious treats into my day.  And apparently I’m also all about grabbing fistfuls of cereal and shoving them into my mouth every time I step foot into my kitchen.  A handful of puffins after breakfast to cleanse the palet… a handful for my pre-dinner snack… you know, just to hold me over…  and while we are at it, why not throw in a late night bowl o’ cereal to settle my tummy before bed?

Cereal and I, we have a LONG history.

This was, at one point, my favorite Friday night ritual after all:

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My infatuation runs so deep that it’s not abnormal for my pantry to have five+ open boxes of cereal on any given day.

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A while back I caught on to my cereal addiction.  I think it was sometime around the day I decided, after scouring every aisle of the grocery store in search of a fabulous dinner feast, that of ALL THE THINGS the grocery store offered me, I’d most like to have THIS for dinner:  /

(You may have noticed I’ve now pictured wine twice in this post.  Yes, I like to drink wine with my cereal.  No, I’m sure as hell not giving up wine.)

It was around that time that I started using a small coffee mug to dole out my cereal portions rather than a bowl, which enabled me to still get my cereal fix without going overboard.  But it’s a slippery slope, my friends.  Eventually one mug of cereal turned into two…  then two turned into three…  and as a CPA I am confident that 3 mug-fulls of cereal is equivalent to a crapload.  And god knows how many bowls four fistfuls of cereal is equal to.  I mean, I do have freakishly large hands after all.

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So in an effort to nip this snack monster issue in the butt, I’ve decided to give up cereal for the rest of busy season (AKA through September 15th for you non-tax folk).  And on that day when busy season once again comes to a screeching hault, I will be wiser, stronger, and fully prepared to have a sweet sweet reunion with the my beloved cereal.

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Recipe: Jambalaya {bad things happen when I don’t eat}

Somehow in the past few months I seemed to have forgotten my passion for cooking.  Let’s take a moment to ponder how the heck this is even possible.  Somewhere between leaving a job of over four years, attempting to sell a house, subsequently becoming a landlord, selling off and donating an insane amount of my possessions, a crazy condo hunt, leaving my family and home state of 26 years, a HORRIBLE moving experience, starting a new job, and immersing myself in the culinary delights of a new city I forgot how much fun and just how darn rewarding a home cooked meal can be.

Blasphemy!

Through these past few whirlwind months I’ve been a little *ahem* emotional.  Ok, not just emotional.  Let’s also throw in irrational, brash, and downright scary at times.  This Saturday I actually cried over burnt pizza.  I CRIED, PEOPLE.  And then I sat on the living room floor with my knees clenched up to my chest and just stared off into nothingness as my body seethed in furry searching for some sort of carbohydrate to peak my bottomed out blood sugar.

I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again:  bad things happen when I don’t eat.

While I was in the midst of nuclear shutdown, the BF came over, sat down beside me, and put his arm around his little sugar feigning zombie.  And we sat.  And then he did what any good man would do:  he didn’t talk, didn’t ask questions, he just got up from the floor sauntered over to the kitchen and made me a snack.

I know, right?

Why can’t I see things so simply?  Is it really just a man thing?  Are women really just crazy complex, overanalyzing, (often) emotional basket cases?  Whatever the case may be (lord knows I don’t have the answers) the BF does a pretty darn good job of reeling me back from Mary’s Land of Anxious Gloom by trying to insert some of the simple things into my life.  Sunday morning he convinced me to simply sit on the porch and drink mimosas, and Sunday night we simply made jambalaya for dinner.

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This was simply stick to your ribs delicious, guys.  I’m serious.  It gave the jambalaya we had in New Orleans a run for the money!

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Jambalaya

Recipe adapted from Cooking Light’s Jambalaya.

  • 2 links hot chicken or turkey sausage (cooked and sliced)
  • 1 cup white onion (chopped)
  • 1/2 cup celery (chopped)
  • 1/2 cup green pepper (chopped)
  • 3 cloves garlic (minced)
  • 1.5 cups uncooked long grain brown rice
  • 3 cups fat-free low-sodium chicken broth
  • 1 tbsp paprika (smoked, if you have it)
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground thyme
  • 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepepr
  • 16oz cooked chicken breast (cubed)
  • 14.5oz can diced tomatoes with green peppers and onions (undrained)
  • 4oz shrimp (uncooked)
  • 1/2 cup green onions (thinly sliced)

Note:  I recommend Uncle Ben’s Fast & Natural Whole Grain Brown Rice and Harris Teeter hot chicken sausage or Jennie-O Turkey Sausage.

Step 1:  Coat a large pot with cooking spray then heat over medium-high heat. Add sausage, onion, green pepper, celery, and garlic. Cover, reduce heat to low, and cook 12 minutes or until vegetables are tender, stirring occasionally.

Step 2:  Stir in uncooked rice and cook for two minutes, stirring constantly. Add broth and all the spices and bring to a boil. Cover, reduce heat, and simmer 15 minutes.

Step 3:  Add chicken and tomatoes, half of the green onions, and shrimp. Stir, then cover and cook 8 minutes or until shrimp are done.

Step 4:  Remove from heat, sprinkle with remaining green onions, and eat your face off.

Stats on 1 serving: 344 calories, 45g carbs, 6g fat, 33g protein, 4g fiber

 

Looking for a Jambalaya-for-one recipe?  Check out this post.

Looking for a crazy, borderline incoherent, slightly volatile woman?  Catch me on a day when I miss my midmorning snack.

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Eff you monday.

My favorite part of the weekend is the early morning.  That coveted part of the morning when most sane people are still sleeping even though the sun is starting to joyously creeping its way across the sky.  Early enough that the roads are clear and the city is calm and you tiptoe even if no one else is around just because.  I actually look forward to waking up early on the weekends–I dare say it actually brings me JOY.  It’s my own little slice of time to do whatever the heck I want.  To be agenda-free and commitment free.  Time to think or not think.  Time to just be, which happens to be my favorite time of all.

This morning, let me clarify—this MONDAY morning—I awoke not filled with bliss and excitement for the day but rather cranky, angry even, and ready to flip Monday a big fat bird.

Why can’t weekday mornings be peaceful and indulgent too?  Who the heck put weekday mornings into a class of untouchables?  And more importantly, WHY?!

So today I said “eff you Monday.”

And I plopped myself down on the living room floor with a special weekend inspired breakfast.

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A little black coffee and a leggo my eggo topped with vanilla greek yogurt and blueberries:

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And I sat and enjoyed my selfish unproductivity and this deliciously sweet breakfast while the precious weekday minutes melted away…

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And then I did something just downright crazy.  On this Monday morning I sat still for a whole 25 minutes and watched an episode of Sex and the City Smile

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And just like that, Monday morning became ever so slightly less unbearable.

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