Sports is an integral part of my life. I love playing sports and watching sports.
Oh, the places you’ll go, the places you’ll see, the places you’ll eat ….put Nashville on your bucket list of cities to visit! To add to my previous visit to Nashville!
SOME MIGHTY FINE BRISKET AT MARTINS in 12 South
Yes, Dorothy, there is ramen in Nashville. Otaku in The Gulch, close to Biscuit Love, another favorite!
Another view from the bridge.
I can’t wait to go back…
Our trip to Vanderbilt for Family Weekend 2016 was more about hanging out with the kid and his classmates. We made it to campus only once (family weekend is really for the freshman parents, lol) and that was for Vanderbilt’s program Strong Inside: Storytelling, Music and Performance. Last year we did not attend the student show which included the Meladores (Vandy’s acapella group). So this year we assumed they would be performing at the show..wrong. I need to read the fine print more carefully next time. This year’s show featured Vandy alum and author Andrew Maraniss and his book, Strong Inside . The story of Perry Wallace, the first African American basketball player in the SEC and Vanderbilt student. His courage, resiliency and character are tested as he faced racism both individual and institutional. Like Jackie Robinson, Perry was a reluctant pioneer of the civil rights movement. Far too often non-fiction books turn into a boring litany of facts and dates, Maraniss’s writing style and Wallace’s life story runs counter to this notion. Strong Inside is a very compelling read. (Addendum: Coming Fall 2017 Documentary on Perry Wallace)
Though the Meladores did not perform, I really enjoyed the show. Student performances of dance, poetry were bookended by Mr. Maraniss reading an excerpt from Strong Inside and Vandy alum country rocker, Marshall Chapman. Ms. Chapman read from her book, Goodbye, Little Rock and Roller and sang. I am a convert to her soulful music and her life story. Growing up in the South, she tells of the first time she saw Elvis. Seven years old and sitting in the town theatre smitten by the King. Touring with icons such as Jimmy Buffet, playing in honkey tonks, Marshall’s story is brought to life in her music and words. A wonderful storyteller and an amazing musician.
Being a Californian, I never thought my kids would end up in the South for school but life is full of surprises and it has given them and me the opportunity to experience a part of America that I would never have dreamed of.
Blaze of Glory Marshall Chapman
This year’s Head of the Charles Regatta was bittersweet. We rowed not just for us but for our coxswain Mary, our crew mate Linda and last but not least Little Snook, taken from us way too soon. We rowed for friends, family members and crew mates who have battled cancer, are cancer survivors and in memory of those we have lost to the disease.
Flash flood warnings, thunder and lightning the evening before the race found us huddled in our b&b wondering if we were going to be able to row. We could hear the rain pouring down throughout the night. But amazingly by morning the rain and wind had stopped and the skies were clear.
It was a good day to row.
In the past we have traveled to Boston just for the Head of the Charles. We fly in, row, watch the collegiate and high school teams row and fly out. Last year we decided we should take a road trip after the regatta. But where to?
After much debate:
Me: How about Vermont, hear there’s good pie.
Mary: Pie? Sounds good!
Jane: Drive for pie?
Me & Mary: Yeah, duh.
That Sunday morning we found ourselves headed to Underhill, Vermont. Four hours later we were standing inside a tiny metal toolshed that had been repurposed into the cute little pie bungalow (too small to be called a shop) Poorhouse Pies. We picked our pies and dropped our money into the little box on the counter. Shivering from the cold, our noses running, we sat on the tiny bench next to the shed enjoying the best damn Key Lime Pie ever. Then and there the annual post regatta road trip was born.
This year’s trip found us on the ferry to Martha’s Vineyard in search of lighthouses, lobster rolls and of course pie. Yee-ha!
STOP. If you ever decide to take the the ferry to Martha’s Vineyard I suggest you take it from Woods Hole. Why? Well, the ferry runs year around from there, important if you are going in the off season. Ferry service includes transport of cars from there (but you will pay a premium), remember to book in advance. But the main reason is to stop at Pie In the Sky Bakery and Cafe . Your trip on the ferry will be ever so much more pleasant with a steaming hot cup of coffee and a scrumptious popover, buttery croissant or muffin from this rustic, cute hole in the wall. It’s literally a stone’s throw away from the Steamship Authority. The vibe is friendly and the joint is filled with locals and ferry passengers.
Martha’s Vineyard here we come.
After returning from Houston we were home just long enough to reassure Sammy we hadn’t abandoned him, water the plants, do some laundry, repack our suitcase and head out to Nashville to see Jordan. Family Weekend has become an excuse to spend time with Jordan’s classmates’ families. Jordan has made some great friends at school and it’s always a good time when we get together. We all roll into town and follow Henry, dad to Jordan’s classmate and bestie, Danielle. He is our guide to Nashville’s food and fun scene. This trip found us trying some of the stalwarts in Nashville including Arnold’s Country Kitchen, the Pancake Pantry and Prince’s Hot Chicken.
I have a couple of quirks I should tell you about, well I call them quirks..you be the judge. During crunch time games, like yesterday’s Giants versus the Mets wild card game, you will not find me comfortably planted on my couch with the TV on (that’s Wes). You will not find me at a sports bar or at an “I just jumped on the bandwagon” viewing party, sipping wine, and eating finger food. Nope. I will be sitting in my car, possibly parked on the side of the road or more than likely in my driveway, listening to the radio broadcast of the game. I will be nervously hanging on every pitch or play called by Flem, Miller, Krup, and Kuipe. Too nervous to watch, too interested to not know what is happening, that is my compromise. Back in the day, I pulled over to listen to Dave Dravecky’s comeback game. I ran out and sat in my car in the driveway to listen to Will the Thrill lead the Giants over the Cubbies in the NLCS. Yep just me and the radio, that’s all I need.
I also have a routine for flying, especially long flights. Travel mug for coffee, yes the blue one only. For regattas, my pink water bottle (it’s so beat up it doesn’t even stand anymore) is always in my suitcase. A downloaded audiobook on my phone and a magazine to look at because I can’t possibly do NOTHING for the 2 minutes we can’t use electronics on board.
So there you have it. On our flight to Nashville, my magazine of choice was Sift, and as luck would have it, it featured an article on bakeries in Nashville. Hum-baby!
First stop when we arrived:
Just a few minutes from Vanderbilt in an industrial-looking area…we stopped for coffee, scrumptious cookies, a yummy blueberry muffin, chocolate croissants and a Kouign Amann (meh, I think I come from the mecca for great Kouign Amann at Manresa Bakery or B. Patisserie in SF). Dozen Bakery is definitely worth the stop when in Nashville. Next time I’m trying their breads and sandwiches!
The next morning, with my partner in food crime, Debbie (Jordan’s roommate’s mom) we headed to the iconic Pancake Pantry in Hillsborough Village near campus. Would love to have been there before the lines but a nearly impossible task with college kids that start their morning at about 11 AM. So we stood in line and waited for the best damn sweet potato pancakes I have had.
Now don’t get me wrong if you are looking for cutting-edge, hipster trendy food that will make your tastebuds stand up and do the hula…this ain’t it. This is just down home solid simple cooking that’s been around for decades, nothing wrong with that. Plus, part of the fun is being there.
Next stop…..lunch (happy dance although the bounce in my dance step was a little less springy after a plate of pancakes)
Yep, time for a Meat and three. Arnold’s Country Kitchen, cafeteria style, stand in line, order your meat (fried catfish or roast beef was the special of the day), and three sides. I went healthy for the sides, macaroni and cheese, collard greens and fried green tomatoes, lol. Had to save room for banana pudding for dessert of course.
…and for the trifecta of iconic places to eat in Nashville we went to Prince’s for Hot Chicken.
Fried Chicken, super crispy and crunchy, moist and doused in their secret sauce to the hotness of your desire (I am a wimp as evident by the lack of red on my chicken, I opted for mild). Drop the mic, done. Whoops, don’t leave without getting their banana pudding, the bomb.
Yep, all in a day’s work.
I manage to combine everything I love in one trip. How cool is that? Crew, travel, photography, food..life is good, eat pie.
Let it Snow, let it snow, let it snow by Diana Krall
New England Bucket List
Row at Head of the Charles in Boston: Check
In Boston:
Find obscure pie shed in the middle of nowhere and eat scrumptious pie: Check
Poorhouse Pies Underhill, Vermont, get the Key Lime Pie, you won’t regret it. After watching A Few Good Pie Places on public television, this was our destiny….
Visit baking mecca King Arthur Flour: Check
Is this Heaven? No, it’s Vermont. Is it possible to pack 15 pounds of flour in my suitcase and not exceed airline weight limit? Apparently not.
And now for that cookie recipe I promised. Straight from King Arthur Flour, Almond Cloud Cookies. Yes, gluten-free and ridiculously easy, child’s play…just saying. I recommend a food processor to make the batter, an idea from Just Get Off Your Butt and Bake, making it incredibly easy to make.
I used almond paste from the King Arthur Flour catalog. It calls for bitter almond oil, but, you can substitute vanilla extract and still taste the almond.
The dough is fairly stiff. I made my cookies a little smaller using a tablespoon ice cream scoop. Instead of sifting powdered sugar over the batter before baking, just roll the balls of dough in the sugar.
Do not skip the 3 finger indentations. The cookies look better. Baking time was approximately 15 minutes. The edges will be crisp and light brown and the centers soft and chewy. If you love almond and have a sweet tooth, this is the cookie for you.
Hi again! It’s me, Jamie, the favorite child. Because my last blog post was such a hit, I assume, and because work is winding down, I’ve decided to write another guest blog. I know, you’re welcome. In case you forgot, which I highly doubt because my last post rocked, I am the second child of the family, currently living by myself in Houston for the summer, and about to start my second year at Rice University.
So, as you guys have seen from the last couple of blog posts, my mom loves to bike. Incidentally, she also does not take shit from anyone, which speaking as her daughter, has good and bad points. The good is the strong female role model I get to learn from–seriously guys, my mom is the coolest. Not only is she crazy smart, athletic, and awesome at cooking but she is also just an all around superstar who coached me in baseball and soccer, went to all my school and athletic events, and is always there whenever I need advice. The bad is that, unfortunately, she never took shit from me either/she gets scary when she’s angry. Okay, to get back to my story, my mom loves to bike. I do too, but not as much as her. She bikes a lot, and so did I when I was younger. Nowadays, I run. And no, I don’t love running. I actually dislike it. Sure, there are some days when a nice easy jog in the shade feels great and, yes, on those days I totally get why people love to run, but most days I don’t get it. It is painful. No, it doesn’t “clear my mind” and it isn’t “calming and relaxing.” I mean, you are literally firing off every muscle in your body at once, how does that relax someone? Aside from the fact that I look like death while running, I am also highly competitive, so I think that everything is a race. This makes every run for me a combination of a steady even pace with a bunch of spurts of speed sprinkled in. Sorry five year old girl on a pink tricycle, you’re going down. I will beat you to that crunchy leaf up there. Probably not the best running habit, but I can’t help it.
FINALLY, a resolution to the bicycle saga. I picked up my bike this evening. My words of wisdom is to advocate for yourself, don’t give in and frankly, it’s true, the squeaky wheel gets the grease. At the low point of this odyssey I was told I would be getting a silver frame bike ( I hate silver) as a replacement and it would cost me 250 dollars to put the parts of my old bike on the new frame. I DON’T THINK SO. I called Cervelo the maker of my bike and questioned why I should be the on
e to shoulder the cost when it was a defective frame. The response was “we do not cover labor cost for warranty frames.” Hmmm, that doesn’t seem quite right…recalls for cars do not require you to pay for the labor if a defective part is replaced. Cervelo searched for another frame since I hate silver. They found a replacement but it was an upgrade version of the same model as my bike. Hey, I could have this one for a mere 500 dollars….WHAAAT? I have to pay 500 dollars for this frame & 250 dollars to put it back together??? All I wanted was my bike tuned…AUUUUGH! Another couple of phone calls to Adrian, representative for Cervelo, compromise reached, no charge on the upgrade frame but I would shoulder the labor costs at the bike store. Ok, at least I was getting a better frame. The call came in my bike was finished, yay! Hold on, I have to pay for the cables and housing, why? Its going to cost me 320 dollars? What happened to the quoted 250 dollars, no mention of + parts? I almost gave in, but on my commute home from work (all hour an half, but thats for a later blog post) I decided I wasn’t going to give in. Back on the phone, let me speak to the manager please..grrrrrrrr…..Why hello BEN, we need to talk.
I’m sure all involved were happy to see me go as I walked the bike out the door. My persistence paid off, no pun intended, 250 dollars for the build and like my old bike, this one is black and badass looking. See you on the road friends.
Exactly what I want to do right now, Shout by Tears for Fears…
Pretty bike, don’t you think? Got this bad boy about 4 years ago and unfortunately have not ridden it that much. Spent more time in a boat rather than on my bike. My rowing compadres have been riding alot so time to dust it off and join them. I take my bike into the shop where I bought it for a tune up and what do you know, the brake stay is cracked and the frame is defective. Shop warranties the frame, 21/2 weeks later Cervelo sends a replacement frame, coolio! What? It will cost me 250 dollars for you to take the parts off my bike and put it on the new frame? But you are getting a new frame he exclaims. What? The frame is silver? WTF?! I hate silver! They pretty much send you whatever they have he exclaims adding but you got a new frame…..AUUGH!!!! So for my bike that I spent a pretty penny on and took it in for a tune-up, I will walk out with an ugly ass silver bike that I would never have bought and 250 dollars poorer? Tell me, am I wrong to be upset? Keep it boxed boys, I’m calling the company.
Bleary eyed and thinking of nothing else but the warm bed I left behind, I hear the cox call out,” hands on, up to shoulder, walk it forward,” the boat feels like a ton of bricks, to the dock, roll into the water. One foot in, two, down, push off, we start to row, bodies swing in unison, the oars drop in and rise out of the water as one, the boat glides through the water effortlessly, I hear the water run beneath it and watch the puddles created by the oars slicing through the water, it all comes together. We get to the end of the reservoir, coxswain calls out “wain up, oars down”. We stop, the fog is cresting over the Santa Cruz Mountains, a bald eagle flies over head, the sun begins its ascent and the water sparkles from the first rays to greet it…, fatigue forgotten, that’s why I row.
Jordan also rowed, we commiserated and grumbled about erging and getting up for those early morning workouts. Jordan rowed for his crew. When he comes home from college, he hangs with his crew friends. These are the guys he will be reminiscing with when he is my age, talking about back in the day. The friendships he forged, the bond created from competing, winning, losing and supporting each other, that’s why he rowed.
