Yum...

Okay, please don't let my last post about being a 'non-taster' scare you off. This meal really turned out delicious and was super easy to whip up! I was looking for a way to use up the goods from our garden and refrain from heating up our house with our oven since the heat index has been like 200 here lately. I know, not really possible, but it sure felt like it!


Anyway, I just threw this together and it was a big hit with my family. The pesto tasted amazing against the fresh veggies and I loved how the goat cheese really added creaminess without dousing everything in Alfredo or heavy cream. I kept my seasonings down to kosher salt, since a lot of flavor was coming from the pesto and goat cheese.


So, without further ado:


Garden Veggie Penne with Pesto Sauce

Ingredients:

Two chicken breasts (I seasoned lightly with kosher salt and sauteed in a bit of olive oil...then diced small)


2 zucchini diced


1/2 red onion diced


1/2 red bell pepper diced


2-3 roma tomatoes, seeded and diced


1 package of penne pasta


1/4 cup pesto (or more, if you like)


3-4 tablespoons goat cheese (I used plain, not herbed)





While sauteing the chicken, boil the penne according to package directions. In a second saute pan, heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil and saute the veggies until slightly tender...not soggy (about 5-10 minutes over medium heat). Drain pasta. Dice chicken and toss with the pasta along with sauteed veggies. Add Pesto and goat cheese and toss until the mixture is combined and creamy.





We served this with garlic bread and melon. Enjoy





Garlic Bread:

Ciabatta Bread
Butter
one garlic clove

I spread both sides of bread lightly with butter, then grilled on both sides until toasted. When done, rub one side generously with the garlic clove.

Non-Taster...

After we married, my sweet husband was absolutely horrified when one morning I walked sleepily over to the fridge and proceeded to eat a piece of chocolate cake for breakfast. Another morning it was pizza. Even chili. Sometimes brownies. From that point on he dubbed me a "Non-Taster", for surely a person with taste buds would not choose non-breakfast items and call it breakfast.

When I'm hungry, I want to eat. I frankly don't care what it is, I just want my hunger pains to go away and pronto. So, it's no surprise that at least one of my wee ones would have inherited my lack of taste buds. And, I'm sad to say, it's the little miss.

The girl will eat anything...mostly from items you or I would deem "non-edible". Toilet paper is a particular favorite. Crayons are up there on her list too. A cheerio or goldfish from a couch cushion is also fair game. Don't get me started on toilet water or the lone sippy cup that somehow rolled under the couch...gross.

One day I was preparing lunch and heard Ethan cry from the dining room, "Ummmm...mommy. There's something wrong with Eva." I ran in from the kitchen to see the little miss sitting on the floor, wide-eyed and her mouth white and foamy. I F-R-E-A-K-E-D. I swiftly lifted her from the floor and began to beat the center of her back with the heel of my hand. But, I quickly noticed she wasn't choking. I swept her mouth and there was nothing there. I asked Ethan what she ate and he had not a clue. So, I called poison control. Thoughts were reeling through my head, "How could I have left her in there with Ethan...Please, Lord, let her be okay...How could I have missed something she could have gotten into."

Then my thoughts were interrupted by the reassuring voice on the other line, "Poison Control, what is the nature of your call?" I quickly spewed how my daughter ate something and that she was foaming at the mouth...she wasn't choking, but I don't know what she ate...I wasn't with her at the time...please help me...I don't know what to do." Before she could reply to my ramblings, I glanced down at my feet and saw a small white object lying near Ethan's coloring book. I picked it up and noticed one end was bitten off. I rubbed it between my fingers and realized I was holding the remnant of a piece of chalk in my hand. I shouted, "CHALK! She ate chalk!" The woman on the other end of the line was quiet for a moment and then burst into laughter. She was laughing so hard I could barely make out the words, "She's going to be just fine. She probably had a blank stare on her face because it tastes like crap." I had my daughter on one hip and I just stood there staring at that little piece of chalk in my hand. She had ate nearly the entire thing. I was dumbfounded. I was snapped back to reality by the woman's words, "Ma'am, everything will be just fine. Just give her a big drink of water." And with that I hung up the phone, but not before hearing the woman say faintly, "You guys won't believe the call I just got."

I shook my head and looked at the little miss..."Seriously, Eva. CHALK?!" She looked at me and smiled, then slowly leaned toward the chalk in my hand to give it one last lick.

All We Need Is Love...And Ramen Noodles...

We returned from our honeymoon, full of love, optimism for the future, and poor with no place to live. Technically that's not completely true. We did have a place to live, but couldn't move in until the beginning of fall semester. Brent had another year of school left, so our plan was for him to attend school full-time while I worked full-time to support us.

So, we planned to return to our summer jobs, swallow our pride and live with Brent's parents until August. Not really ideal as newly weds, but, we would bite the bullet. Fortunately, a missionary couple from our church took pity on us and offered us an opportunity to live in their house for the summer while they were away in Morocco. Win, win situation for all! We graciously accepted their offer and made the arrangements to move into their gorgeous four bedroom home.

By day I continued my job at the bank, and by night I became the happy homemaker. Brent worked hard at his internship and choked down my atrocious meals with a smile. If the meal I set before him was unrecognizable (which was most often the case) he would sweetly inquire as to what we were having then chase mouthfuls of the cuisine with his beverage. I was a terrible cook, but he still praised my efforts.

The summer flew by and before we knew it, we were loading up trucks full of our newly acquired wedding gifts, mismatched furniture and random items we couldn't bear to part with. We said good-bye to our families and left Kansas City to start the beginning of our new life in Manhattan, Kansas. We had no idea what God had in store for us in that little basement apartment in the home of the "T" family...

Honeymoon, Or, 'Honey, What the Heck?'...

Someone wrote me and told me to continue the story. Okay, I confess it was my mom. And technically, she already knows the ending, but I'll indulge her...because she's my mom, and because sometimes she takes me out to lunch on her dime even if it was my idea.



So, let's continue shall we?



With the wedding over, we were so excited to begin our honeymoon. We were being magically whisked away to...wait for it...Arkansas. Come on, don't laugh! We were two poor college students and Arkansas was the furthest our bucks would take us! We booked a couple of bed and breakfasts, and planned a week of relaxation amongst the related citizens of Arkansas. Sorry. Couldn't resist. Missouri and Arkansas have a love/hate relationship. Sorry good people of Arkansas...please don't stop reading. I give you permission to take a cheap shot at me in my comments section.



We were particularly excited about the first bed and breakfast. In the pictures it was this quaint little place with gorgeous bedrooms, a continental breakfast served to our room, and a pool nestled among the trees. It was the perfect place for relaxation and romance.



We were a bit shocked to discover our little inn was not exactly depicted correctly on the brochure. At first we thought we had the wrong address. After checking the map, checking the address and doing a bit of comparing and circling the place a couple of times...we realized, we did indeed have the correct location.



The building was a bit...outdated. It looked like it's latest paint job occurred in the 80's. We drove around back and just happened upon the pool. It was above ground (and definitely NOT Olympic size), and I'm sure there was water in there somewhere beneath all the leaves. We decided to at least go inside and talk to the manager. We'll call him 'Frank'. We walked in and prepared to tell Frank we wanted to cancel, but he was the sweetest man. He said he had been looking forward to our arrival (I'm pretty sure we were the ONLY ones staying there) and that he had our room all ready for us. What could we say? We decided to at least go take a look.



All I can say is at least the decor was consistent with the 80's time period of the rest of the place. I'm pretty sure I hadn't seen those shades of peach, mauve and teal with accents of brass in quite some time.



The place was immaculately clean on the inside, so we thought we would at least stay one night, for Frank's sake. Frank excitedly showed us all the features of the room and before he left we asked him about the continental breakfast served to our room. "Oh!" he said, "Are you guys gonna love this!" He took us over to a little box about the size of a large mailbox attached to the wall of our room. He pulled on the handle to open the box. Inside it was lined with orange shag carpet with another small door that led to the outside of our room. Frank said, "Tomorrow morning I'll place your breakfast in the box, and when you're ready, you can just open the door on your side of the room and, VOILA!" Needless to say, he was quite proud of his invention. Brent and I stood there wide-eyed, with fake grins plastered on our faces, nodding in unison like a couple of bobble heads.



Frank finished up the tour, then let out a sigh and said, "Well then, I guess I'll just leave you two kids to it." And with that he left, closing the door to our room leaving us standing there staring after him.



We looked at each other and burst into laughter, deciding we HAD to stay there for at least one night purely for the insanity of it all! We changed clothes, went out to eat, walked around town a bit and then headed back for the night. There were a few sights we wanted to see in the morning, so having the continental breakfast would be so nice and such a time saver.



The next morning we awoke early and 'rock, paper, scissored' who would be the lucky one to check our box. I lost. I walked over, opened the door and inside, nestled in the shag carpet, were two Otis Spunkmeyer muffins, a couple of Lipton tea bags, a thermos of hot water and a couple of Styrofoam cups.

I don't know if it was the prepackaged muffins or the tea bags, or the look of it all among the shag, but we quickly decided breakfast 'out' was in order. We also decided it was time to move on. Good bye Frank...it was fun while it lasted.

We spent the rest of our week hopping to a couple of different inns, taking long drives along the Ozark hills (which, I'll admit are gorgeous), and seeing the various sights. We spent a few fun days in Branson, then headed back home to embark on our new life as a married couple...with no permanent home to call our own...

The Finale...

Day 7 Part Two...

June 16, 2001

Every little girl dreams of the perfect wedding. The dress. The shoes. The church and colors. Honestly, not really my forte. I have the design sense of a wet sponge. God just didn't bless me with a sense of style. So, I enlisted my girlie-girl mom for help. I told her what I liked and she went to work. She was a woman on a mission. She could have had her own reality t.v. show, the way she worked those vendors. The woman could work a hot glue gun like nobody's business. Frankly, she has impeccable taste that I simply did not inherit.

2001 was the height of Ebay, and my mom was the ebay queen. Every week I'd receive phone messages from my mom, "Hi sweetie! You'll never guess what I bid on and won for your wedding! Remember how you wanted tulle? Well, I just won like 5 bolts of it!" or "I just won a huge box of white Christmas lights! They will be perfect for the reception!" She was definitely in her element, and I was happy to oblige. We affectionately referred to our wedding as the 'Ebay wedding'.

We went dress shopping, cake tasting, poured over colors and samples. We Picked music, selected flowers and invitations and did everything on a budget. It was an exciting time. But, it didn't compare to the excitement Brent and I had anticipating becoming husband and wife.

The big day arrived and I was beyond excited to begin getting ready for the day. The day was gorgeous. I got ready at home with my family, taking all precautions to guard my dress from any accidents I was prone to. Then it was off to the church. Things moved along so quickly that before I knew it, it was time to walk down the aisle. Right before it was time, my dad pulled me aside and prayed for me, for us, and our future as husband and wife. The he kissed my forehead, lowered my veil and said, "Let's get this show on the road kiddo." and gave me a wink.

I waited with my dad and watched as one by one my bridesmaids walked down the aisle. My heart was pounding. Then, the doors swung wide and I heard the music begin to play softly. My dad took the first step and all I kept thinking was, "Don't trip, don't trip, don't trip." But, then I caught a glimpse of Brent waiting for me at the end of the aisle, and my thoughts changed. It was him. I think at that point a huge smile came over me and I just couldn't wait to get down that aisle. My dad placed my hand in Brent's. We looked at one another and whispered, "I love you." We exchanged vows and then rings, whispering "forever" before placing our rings on. We chose communion as our first act of marriage, and then our dads came forward to pray a blessing over us and our marriage. The pastor pronounced us husband and wife and then Brent turned to me and kissed me...

W. Y. M. M?...

Day 7...

Fall semester ushered in my senior year and Brent's 4th year in the architecture program (a five year program). This would be a critical year for both of us as we wrapped up our education and prepared for graduation. I was bogged down with deadlines and senior seminar, Brent was logging crazy hours in studio working on design projects.

Over the course of the last year-and-a-half, the landscape of our relationship had drastically changed. We went from friends, to dating, to talking about marriage. We came home from school more often to see each other and were really tired of being apart. The question of marriage no longer being an issue, we now tackled the decision of WHEN to get married. Do we wait until both of us graduate? Do we get married after I graduate and then move to Manhattan, KS until Brent finished? Do we wait altogether until graduation AND jobs?

We decided waiting just wasn't an option. We would get married the summer after I graduated. The sooner we were together, the better. We weren't engaged yet. We wanted to do it the right way, which meant saving money, asking parents for permission and the planning of a romantic surprise...all of which fell on Brent's shoulders.

I have to admit. I don't really envy guys when it comes to the proposal process. Rings are pricey, dad's are brutal, and then you have to plan the moment to remember. I would say those are all stress-worthy events. Add on top of that crazy architecture hours and you have the ingredients for an ulcer.

Brent was a man on a mission. He played "Mr. Sneaky" and went to Kansas City one weekend to talk to my dad. They had a heart to heart, and Brent layed out everything for my dad regarding his intentions. By the end of the conversation, my dad had given Brent his blessing. One element down, two to go.

Next, Brent did a little shopping. He enlisted my mom's help and together they picked out the perfect ring on a modest budget. One piece left.

Planning "The Moment". I have to give my guy a lot of credit. He is king of planning romantic moments. He's resourceful, sentimental, and does his homework. This time his plan was to create a moment neither of us would ever forget, using pieces and memories from our courtship.

He spent weekends in his grandpa's workshop building a box from wood that would hold mementos from our courtship and 'the ring'. He enlisted my parents help in getting me to come home for the weekend under the premise of 'yearly family portrait time' so he could surprise me.

Saturday arrived, and I spent the morning with my family, posing and experiencing the pain and torture otherwise known as family picture time. Everyone in coordinating outfits, posing in fall foliage, sitting on logs, and smiling until our cheeks hurt. Never been a fan. STILL not a fan. But that's what counseling is for, so I won't bore you with those details.

After family torture...I mean...family picture time, Brent and I had agreed to meet up later that evening. He picked me up and suggested we head to our favorite park near the Plaza area.

It was a perfect fall evening, so we decided to take a walk. Brent grabbed a blanket from his car and we walked until we scouted out the perfect tree. We spread out the blanket and it was then that I noticed Brent had a wooden box the size of a large encyclopedia in his hand beneath the blanket. I looked at him and said, "Where'd you get that?!" He smiled and said "It's for you." I laughed and placed the box in my lap.

I lifted the lid of the box and noticed that on the underside, he had engraved our initials by hand. The box was filled with all kinds of items that reminded us of our courtship. Favorite books, church bulletins from events we had attended together, packs of gum, toilet paper (um...can you guess what THAT was supposed to remind me of?) pages from his journal while he was praying about our relationship and more.

Inside the box was a story. A story Brent wrote about a man searching for the woman God had created just for him. And with that story and this reading, he proposed:

'His love for her soon sends him to his knees. "God, I am completely in love with one of your children. She is the love of my life and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. Test my heart oh God; show me your will. She is the most beautiful of your creation and I want to serve her in any way you allow. And if it is your will, unite us in marriage." '

Brent continued reading, and by the end of the story, there was no question in my mind what he was going to ask. He got down on one knee, with tears in his eyes and asked, "Nik, will you be my wife?" I looked down and in a small cut out in the bottom of the box there was the ring.

This was the moment I had prayed for and searched God for. Blindly praying years before for a future husband I didn't know, and trusting God that there was someone he had created just for me. And through my tears I said, "Yes."

To be continued...

You're The One...

Day 6 Part 3...

I just might make my deadline. Tomorrow is the big day and we're getting close friends. Let's get to it...

First semester flew by, second semester was well under way and we were getting the swing of this long-distance-relationship thing. We e-mailed devotions to one another, sent letters and had our evening phone call routine. We couldn't wait to reconnect in the summer.

Summer arrived and it was as though we were never apart. We frequented our old haunts, spent time with each other's families and were eager to simply spend time together.

We really enjoyed hanging out with our married friends Chris and Dawn, so we were so excited when they suggested a double-date to a Royal's game. During the seventh inning stretch, Brent suggested we grab a hot dog. I welcomed the chance to stretch my legs, and admittedly I'm not much on baseball. I go for the socialization and the hot dogs. I know, very un-American of me.

On our way to the concession stand, Brent grabbed my hand and slowed me down a bit. I was a woman on a mission and wanted to grab that hot dog before the line got too long. I could tell something was on his mind. "Don't you want to get a hot dog?" He said, "Um, I'm not sure." I paused, "Oh. Do you want a polish sausage or pizza instead? I'm okay with nachos too. Did you see that giant cotton candy that lady had?!"

"Actually, I need to tell you something." He had a serious look on his face and it didn't look like he was deciding between hot dogs or pizza. He pulled me out of the concession line and we began walking. I gave one last longing glance toward the line of people piling on their condiments. So long stadium food...I'll miss you.

Brent grabbed both of my hands and said firmly, "You're the one." I know I must have had a dumbfounded look on my face (I tend to get that way) because he repeated, "You're the one. I've been praying for a long time, and I know that you're the one I want to marry. I'm sitting there next to Chris and Dawn seeing how happy they are spending their lives together and I know, that I want that with you." Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized that he was verbalizing what I had been feeling and praying about for the last year. I was in love with him. I wanted to spend my life with him as well. I finally spoke and said, "I feel the same way. I see myself spending my life with you." We hugged and then he said, "Just to clarify, I'm not proposing. I'm just making my intentions clear. I would never propose without speaking with your parents. I just wanted to make sure that we were both ready to move forward.

I was so excited about this new chapter in our relationship. The hot dog could wait...

To be continued...