Drink Texas, Eat Texas

When the heat becomes just about unbearable, as it has in Texas over the last couple of months or so, there are really only two ways to beat back the inferno—beer and ice cream—and there is really nothing better in the whole wide world than a cold St. Arnold’s or Shiner in a frosty mug followed by an even colder scoop, or three, of Blue Bell’s Homemade Vanilla.

In-Law Invasion!

The Thompson household welcomed a mother-in-law, a grandmother-in-law, and two aunts-in-law this afternoon. I am beset by women as the female-to-male ratio mushroomed from 3 to 1 to 7 to 1 in a matter of minutes. Yikes! This is quite a change --some might even say payback (karma can be a bi@#%)-- for someone who grew up in a home with a 6 to 2 male-to-female ratio and works at an all-boys high school. To say the evening was eventful would be quite an understatement.

We enjoyed a wunderbar dinner featuring yummy fettuccine with homemade Alfredo sauce…sorry, I… had to wipe some residual dribble off my chin. Jennifer really outdid herself, as usual. Nothing restores a weary traveler's spirits or makes her feel quite so content as a belly full of rich fettuccine, sumptuous white wine, and decadent carrot cake. 

BLT: Manna from Heaven

Today’s blog post title piggybacks off of yesterday’s discussion of biblical literacy. BLTs rank at the top of my list of expectations for Heaven, even to the point of serious comparisons with the manna the Israelites received in the desert. What’s that you say? You think I’m being melodramatic and sacrilegious. How dare you! This is no hyperbole, friend! I am going to be mightily disappointed, and frankly a bit miffed (talk about an eternal bait-and-switch) if I get to Heaven –and, mind you, that’s a pretty big IF to begin with—and there are no BLTs.

Vouvray

Have you ever noticed how certain tastes seem capable of conjuring up blissful memories out of the mysterious ether? Barton and Guestier’s Vouvray wine always does the trick for me. Each delightful sip of this simple vintage transports me to France, and that inevitably leads me to romantic nostalgia. Jennifer and I got engaged in Paris on a lovely old bridge near that ever-charming quintessential Parisian landmark, Notre Dame. The sweetness of this treasured wine with its hints of peach and pear are only rivaled by the sweetness of recalling that magical moment when Jennifer agreed to marry me.

Lekvar

The Christmas and Easter seasons always usher in the annual lekvar binge. Lekvar is a fruit jam used in yummy Slovak pastries. Though it can refer to a wide variety of fruits, in my family lekvar is synonymous with a prune-plum filling. This is perhaps the only significant Slovak cultural tradition that has been bequeathed to me, so I take it very seriously.