Las Vegas, Revisited (Sort Of).

A couple of posts ago, I mentioned that I might come back to the Las Vegas portion of my last trip, due to the fact that the post was going to take a little more time than I had then.  Soooo....as promised.  However, be forewarned, it's less of a travel post and more of a "looking inward" post.  (I have to be in the mood to write posts like this, which is why they don't happen that often, which is probably fortunate.)

Fun Fact Number One: I may not always quite look it, but at heart, I'm nothing but a simple country girl whose idea of heaven on earth is a little house off in a field somewhere, full of babies and friends and laughter, fresh homemade bread cooling on the counter and cookies in the cookie jar, a big garden with all kinds of things growing in it, and plenty of books and songs and good conversation.  Really, anything outside of that world brings some measure, no matter how small, of discomfort.  Oh, I know what a person might see when they look at me, the fearlessly independent, high-powered career woman slash world traveler slash straight-A engineering student who has no problem swaggering straight into a man's world and taking no prisoners.  Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoy the life I have, and I am extremely grateful for the opportunities that have come my way.  But the truth remains, no matter how well I hide it.

Fun Fact Number Two: If there is one driving force that supersedes nearly all else in my life, it is a burning desire to come through, for my family, my friends, my little people, my bosses, my professors and coworkers, those who know me well, those who know me not so well, and most importantly, for my God - to find whatever it is that is needed from me, to deliver, and, if at all humanly possible, to never disappoint.

Normally, when you mix all of that jumble together, it works out pretty well in terms of a very happy, fulfilling life.  Every once in awhile, though, the results get...interesting.

Take, for instance, flying out to Las Vegas to attend a business convention with my boss and a colleague.  Understand that this is a new job, in a new industry, one with a whole lot at stake in every transaction, fraught with opportunities to fall flat on one's face at any given moment, full of the most arrogant power players I've ever had the good (or mis-, depending on how you look at it) fortune to observe, and one that I know next to nothing about.  Imagine a deep sense of gratitude towards a boss for a certain willingness to risk investing in an inexperienced, unknown novice-girl and a powerful desire to prove worthy of that faith, and combine that with a fierce determination to go toe-to-toe with all of that cockiness and to succeed.  Now, mix the wide-open-space-loving country girl I told you about with hordes of pleasure-seekers, noise, and chaos and add that need to get it right - to dress appropriately, to look and speak the part without doing anything too embarrassing - in short, to conduct myself as a credit to my traveling companions, and you'll start to get an idea of the pretty intense pressure that I was beginning to labor under by the time that plane landed.

Let's just say that by days' end, I felt less a human being and more like a very prickly little caterpillar who wanted nothing more than to curl up in a hard, tight little ball and disappear for a very long time.

But then, in the nick of time, I remembered a few things.  I remembered that I was blessed beyond measure, not only to have an opportunity to see and experience so many incredibly amazing things, far above and beyond my wildest dreams, but to have that Friend who sticks closer than a brother, standing right beside me every step of the way.  I remembered that I have value, that I am loved and worthwhile, just as I am.  And I remembered that all of those awfully arrogant jerks that I saw everywhere were nothing more than people, just like me, who came into the world the same way I did, who have hopes and dreams and disappointments and insecurities, just like me, and who will stand before that great Creator one day, just like me.  The whole thing lost a lot of its loathsomeness, right then.  And, just like that, I was ready to get on board for the ride.

You know, perspective is a powerful thing.  It can mean all the difference between being a miserable, cranky, uptight (and consequently rather unpleasant) person and being the sort of person who gets joy from life no matter how it presents itself and, as a result, actually has something to offer this broken world.  I needed a nice, solid kick in the pants.  I thank the Lord for sending it my way, right on time, the way He always does, and I don't want to forget the lessons I learned.  I think they come in handy, every day of our lives.

Oh, and once I got that all straight, enjoy the ride is exactly what I did!  In between taxis, meetings, homework, and working the convention floor, I was able to indulge in my lavish corner suite on the 28th floor of the Trump International Hotel, complete with nearly 360-degree views of the city (my employer is a peach, straight up), catch the Jabbawockeez show at the Luxor (shows in Vegas are kind of like the Eiffel Tower, I think - one of those things you have to do once), walk (make that jog) The Strip and see the sights, and relish a powerfully good steak at Delmonico Steakhouse in the Venetian.  I met some really great people, gained a lot of valuable industry insight, and came away with a deeper appreciation for what I get to do and who I get to do it with.

I know, who cares about a hotel room.  But it was SO GORGEOUS.  It glowed!

And at the end of all of that, after two well-spent days, I got in a car and drove, and after ten long hours, there was my family.

And the rest is history.

Summertime and the Eating is Good

I don't know, something happens when summer hits.  It's like all of whatever chemical it is that motivates a person to go do stuff, it wakes up, after a long winter of hibernation.  (Embarrassing but true...)  Suddenly, I want to build a new house, clean up my yard, plant a garden, do some canning and pickling, learn the guitar, read at least one life-enriching book a week, throw sleepovers for my babies, travel to at least 25 cool destinations, have friends over for huge dinners, subscribe to a magazine full of good writing, learn to make real, hearth-baked artisanal bread.... And so on.  (Needless to say, this phase doesn't last terribly long, which is good; one would probably utterly flame out if one acted on all of that...)

Which, on a side note, one of my friends mentioned one of her summer plans - she's thinking about unplugging.  No more trolling Facebook and Instagram and Pinterest and YouTube.  Instead, outings and projects and quality time.  In my current mood, I adore the idea.  Scary but positively liberating...

Anyway, one of my symptoms is the seasonal onset of my craving for the quintessential foods of summer.  If I were to list the perfect dinner right now, it would look like this:

Grilled burgers - no foofoo fancy-pants versions please, just good old ground chuck, jazzed up with a little salt and pepper, cooked to a juicy pink and served on a toasted bun with ketchup, mustard, mayo, lettuce, tomato, pickles and a thick slice of raw, white onion.  And maybe, if a person is feeling daring, a slice of sharp Cheddar cheese.  That's it.



Corn on the cob, ideally straight out of the garden, boiled just enough to take the edge off, maybe three minutes max.

Watermelon, rind attached, eaten so the juice runs down the chin.  (There is a time and place for watermelon, feta and mint salad, but not now, not in this post.)

Potato salad, my mom's recipe.  It's plain and simple, it doesn't even call for celery (I'll add it if I'm feeling slightly heretical) but it's deeply soul-satisfying.

Maybe, if I'm fortunate, some homemade pickles, preferably the refrigerator kind that stay crisp and tart and a little sweet.

And last, but not least, the only dessert that truly defines summer with it's creamy, ice-cold sweetness:

Homemade Ice Cream - maybe chocolate or peach or strawberry, or if I could ever find that Holy Grail of ice cream flavors, pure and perfect vanilla.

It's that time of year where I tend to be a bit of a bother when friends and family include me in their gatherings - I often have this epiphany... "Need me to bring anything?  HEY!  I could bring HOMEMADE ICE CREAM!"  The inviter generally succumbs to the sound of hope and expectancy in my voice, and graciously submits to a dessert line-up that now has to include bowls and spoons and freezer space and a bit of a mad rush to get it before it melts...  But I keep practicing, and one day, the ice cream that comes from my machine will be well worth lining up for...  

In the meantime, to celebrate summer, here are two recipes, one for my mama's potato salad (I don't care if you don't like it; it's what I love more than any other) and one for my family's chocolate ice cream, which is the closest I have found thus far to summertime heaven in a bowl.  (And yes, if we happen to get together this summer, I would be more than happy to make it for you.)

Mom's Potato Salad
(Makes one huge bowl)
12 eggs
12 medium potatoes (DON'T use Russets - plain whites, Yukon Golds, or even reds work better)
1 medium onion
Okay fine, you can add some celery if you want
3/4 of a 30 ounce jar of mayo (my one change - Mom uses Miracle Whip; I don't believe in Miracle Whip.)
1 1/2 Tablespoons - mustard
1 1/2 teaspoons - salt
1/4-1/2 teaspoon - pepper
1 Tablespoon vinegar (I like white or cider for this)
2-3 Tablespoons - sugar

Hard boil the eggs - I've found the best method is to cover your eggs with cold water, partially cover and bring to a boil.  As soon as the water boils, fully cover the pot, reduce heat and cook for one minute.  Remove from heat, and let sit, covered for 20 minutes.  If you immediately plunge them into ice water after this, they'll rarely have that nasty green ring hard-boiled eggs often get.  Anyway, while eggs are cooking, boil potatoes, skins on, until just barely tender - you don't want them falling apart.  Cool until they're somewhat easy to handle and remove skins with your fingers.  Coarsely chop potatoes, eggs, onion and celery and place in a large bowl.  In a separate bowl, combine mayo, mustard, salt, pepper, vinegar and sugar.  Toss with potato mixture.  Refrigerate overnight if at all possible.  (Seriously, this makes a HUGE difference.  Trust me.)

Chocolate Ice Cream
(Makes about six quarts - enough to feed one medium-sized hungry family, I suppose)
6 - eggs
3 cups - sugar
5 cups - whipping cream 
2 Tablespoons - vanilla (please, do yourself a favor and use the real stuff)
a hearty dash of salt
3 Tablespoons - cocoa
1 - 5.9oz box - instant chocolate pudding
about 2 cups - milk

I know.  With that list of ingredients, are we surprised that it's good?

Anyway, combine 1 cup of water, 1 cup of sugar, and cocoa in a small saucepan.  Bring to a boil and boil for one minute.  Set aside.  Meanwhile, beat eggs with a wire whisk until foamy.  Add remaining 2 cups of sugar and beat well.  Add whipping cream, vanilla and salt and mix.  Stir in hot cocoa mixture, combine, and then beat in pudding.  Pour into ice cream maker and add enough milk to reach the fill line.  (That 2 cups of milk is a good guideline - some ice cream makers are smaller; you might want to keep back some of your chocolate mixture so you can add some milk.  If your ice cream maker doesn't have a fill line, 2/3-3/4 full is a good guideline.)  Get all set up with ice and salt, and get cranking.


Note on ice cream makers, as I say, I totally dig homemade ice cream, so I splurged on a White Mountain ice cream maker, which is pretty awesome, aside from the fact that it rusts.  A lot.  But the motor is pretty impossible to wear out.  However, I've found that those cheaper versions they sell at Wal-Mart work almost as well.  I will say that I'm a big fan of the old-school, ice-and-rock-salt machines.  I just don't trust those newfangled, fancy-schmancy gizmos that you stick in your freezer, pour in your custard, and 20 minutes later, SHAZAM, out comes ice cream, labor free.  I don't know.  I feel like you need to WORK a little for the ice cream to come out right.  But that's just me...

Another note, I used to be all into bringing my whole ice cream maker set-up to gatherings, thinking it was such great fun to go through the whole process with friends hanging around.  Not so anymore.  Not only is it a big bother (way too much stuff to haul, including dripping bags of ice), it's obnoxiously loud, and, most importantly, the ice cream greatly benefits from several hours in the freezer to harden, preferably a whole day or overnight.