Where have I been?

Hi everyone! So, it's been months since I've popped onto this blog. Months, eek. Very bad blogging etiquette. But, I've been busy cooking up lots of topics each day for my new health and fitness blog, Vitamin G, over on Glamour.com. Haven't seen it yet? Come stop by!

So where does this leave this blog? Kind of in limbo right now, I guess. I promise to post when inspiration strikes, but for now, I'm busy juggling a lot, especially with the new baby due any minute now! We're having another boy and eager to meet him soon!

So, wishing you all a Merry Christmas and happy 2009! Hope to see you over on Vitamin G, and back here on this blog at some point.

xoxo,

Sarah

Happy First Day of September!

I love fall. So I decided to ring it in a little earlier this year, on this first day of September, by picking blackberries (yep, we pillaged the neighbors' overgrown vine) and baking pumpkin muffins (I used a really good recipe from one of Dorie Greenspan's books).

And, a quick pumpkin progress report: I have six growing in my garden. Six! The San Marzano tomatoes have been eaten by the dog, along with the plums and the lone fig on my tree. Sniffle, sniffle. But the pumpkins, look like survivors!

And, it's live!

Come by and check it out:

http://www.glamour.com/health-fitness/blogs/vitamin-g/

Learning to let go

I wanted to tell you about a story I wrote recently for SELF (in the current issue) about learning to let go of things we harbor--for me, the what-ifs about a failed friendship that tanked many years ago. The article was therapeutic to write, and I hope it helps you break free from whatever unhealthy thing you're hanging on to ...

Oh, you can read the article here.

Sarah

P.S. Oh, and just because they are sooo beautiful, I'm including a photo of the dahlias from my garden--snapped in my kitchen the other day. Pure happiness.

Lumpia Cooking Lessons

Last weekend I got a cooking lesson from my brother's girlfriend, Katherine, in the fine art of Lumpia making--you know those to-die-for Filipino fried rolls (kind of like a spring roll, but soooo much better). Well, I've been dying to learn how to make them for, I don't know, FOREVER, and she was kind enough to show me. Kat is half Spanish, half Filipino and began making Lumpia at the ripe old age of 8. I've included a pic, above, so you can see our little feast--and a feast it was. (Side dishes include: watermelon with lime and mint (so so good), veggies and soba noodles, and a salad).

Oh, and tomorrow is the big day: The day my health and fitness blog, Vitamin G, launches on Glamour.com! Be sure to check it out and tell me what you think! 

xo,

Sarah

P.S. And, yep, that was my name in Women's Wear Daily recently (how fun is that?) in an article about Glamour.com's new launch. 

I love Seattle--but it's time to get tough on crime

Hi all,

I'm writing today with some serious stuff on my mind. Last weekend, a 24-year-old woman, on her way to a job interview, was brutally raped in broad daylight in one of Seattle's most beloved landmarks: Pike Place Market. My response?

Where were the police?

Where were the people--you, me, anyone--who could have helped her while she was beaten to a state of unconsciousness and raped repeatedly?

What the #%^&#! is going on in this city?

I'm angry. Really angry. What has happened to this city--this place I have loved since I was a child? Now, I know crime is a reality in today's world--especially in the city, especially in the year 2008, but I'm not willing to sit idly back and accept that this is our new reality--that I should worry about being raped when I want to, I don't know, head down to Pike Place to pick up flowers for a dinner party or rhubarb for a pie.

For me, this news was sort of the straw that broke the camel's back, for lack of a better analogy. Crime seems to be sweeping into Seattle with an eerily steady force. First there were the male gang rapes happening in Belltown (yes, male gang rapes), then the upswing in youth violence that has inner-city kids chasing each other around with guns--even my own brother was brutally and randomly beaten up last year by a gang of guys after leaving a restaurant downtown (in case you're wondering, the place was Jillian's--and, nope, not a fan of the joint).

So where does this leave me--besides being very angry? It makes me think it's time to get tough on crime. I never thought I'd say this, but I think it's time Seattle got itself some Giuliani-style "round 'em up and get 'em prosecuted" leadership. Even our friends from New York say they see more blatant crime in downtown Seattle (drug deals, you name it) than they ever witnessed on the streets of New York.

OK, have we been snoozing while crime snuck in and took up residence in this great city? Time to wake up people. You. Me. I think we can all do something about it.

I just mailed in my ballot for the primary election, and now this all has me thinking about the general election ahead. For the first time in a long while, I'm willing to cross party lines to vote for a candidate who promises to get tough on crime--in Seattle, and elsewhere in the state.

I never thought I'd say this, but the things I care about--the environment, help for the poor, and all those other worthy social issues--are all good, but at the moment, keeping our streets safe matters more to me. Seriously. Pollution control vs. rape control. Yeah, I'd vote for the latter right now--if given a choice.

What are your thoughts on this? And, for those Seattle-ites reading, which candidates in the upcoming election seem to be toughest on crime?

Coming Home From War

Cutest photo in the world: My 2-year-old niece with her dad, my brother in law. He came home from serving in Iraq yesterday and reunited with his daughter, wife (my sis) and his new son (who was born while he was in the Middle East!). 

Glamour and crannbery pie--how's that for a combo?

Hi everyone!

OK, so it's been an unforgivably long time since my last post. Believe me, I've been thinking about this ol' blog a lot, and all my pals who I need to connect with.

Speaking of blogs, I want to tell you about some exciting news: I recently accepted a gig as a blogger for Glamour.com! While I'm currently doing some ramp-up work for my new blog, called Vitamin G (get it, "G" for Glamour? Cute, huh?), it won't launch until the end of the month. (I'll post the URL here, when it does.) The blog will focus on health and fitness topics. I've been writing about health for years, and I'm kind of obsessed with staying on top of all the latest news, research and trends in the wellness arena, so it's a great fit for me and I'm so excited for the opportunity. Stay tuned for details on the blog's launch!

Lot's of other things to catch you up on, and share, but right now I want to sign off with this (which will explain the cranberry photo, above): Anyone ever made a cranberry-sour-cream pie? I know, it sounds odd, right? Well, I saw it in a The Pike Place Market Cookbook recently, and I can't get it out of my head. I guess I'm craving fall foods already. (You should see the pumpkins coming up in my garden--sugar pie and Cindarella varieties. So fun!) Anywho, back to the pie: Does it sound good? Gross? So-so? Would you try it? Would Ina Garten--godess of all domesticity--make it? (Like fellow writer Melissa Walker, I, too, am ga-ga over Ina. BTW, she just released her third young adult novel, Violet in Private--check it out.)

I'm thinking of giving this pie a test run as soon as I can get my hands on some fresh cranberries at the market. And maybe, if I'm lucky, I can talk my chef friend Brian McCracken into sneaking me a bag or two from his family's farm--they own a cranberry bog (how cool is that?).

Hugs to all--will catch up more later.

A lesson in graciousness

Today I ran into my neighbor's car.

Let me paint the picture for you: screaming baby in the back, groceries in the rear, and two interviews to get to ASAP. As I tried to park in front of my house, like I always do, I cut the corner too close and ... screech.

My heart rate climbed to an obscene level, and I got out to survey the damage (did I mention my neighbor drives a BMW? Yeah, not really a car you want to mess with). I wasn't sure if I had just scratched the bumper, or if I had been responsible for the other damage on the fender.

Dear Lord.

With my heart in my hands, and my baby in my arms, I went to his house to repent--and I expected anything but what I received. "Don't worry about it," he said. After taking a look at the car, he insisted that the fender damage was already there, and that the scratch on the bumper was no big deal.

I wanted to cry--not because I was happy that I wouldn't have to fork over hundreds for repair bills (I would have done so in a heartbeat), but because of how kind he was to me. Before he even saw the damage, he'd brushed it off and forgiven me. I chatted with he and his wife for a while on the sidewalk, and I kept thinking, there is a lesson here, Sarah--a lesson in forgiveness, and graciousness.

How many times have I made someone feel bad for something silly? How many times have I refused to forgive and held a grudge?

You never expect that hitting a BMW will be a wake-up call, but today, it was mine. Any life lessons in your fender benders?

Green decor--I want this bedroom!

Today, I want to share a treasure with you. While working on an article for Weather.com, I came across a fabulous blog run by a mom in Athens, Georgia: Jennae Peterson. The blog, GreenYourDecor.com, is filled with gorgeous design ideas, practical tips, and best of all, budget-friendly ideas to style your home green!

Like Jennae, every few months I get the urge to redo my bedroom. (Yeah, my husband usually puts the kybosh on that.) My new passion is organic bedding, and I'm currently salivating over this cheerful organic bedding, featured on GreenYourDecor recently. Wouldn't you want to wake up in this room?

Why organic bedding? Jennae had this explanation:

"It is grown without synthetic pesticides or fertilizers and therefore provides the softest, smoothest comfort this side of your baby’s bottom. This particular organic bedding has the added benefit of featuring a print that is nature inspired, so you’ll remember why you wanted organic in the first place."

I don't know about you, but that's all the convincing I needed!

On surviving the photo shoot

Hi everyone!

Isn't this gorgeous? This luscious-looking piece of heaven was made by my friend Kristine -- the dessert-maker extraordinaire. She brought it over the other night for a dinner we had here. And believe me, we enjoyed every last bite. 

Sorry for the hiatus. I've been busy these days with new projects and other exciting stuff. I will write more soon, but I wanted to let you know that I survived the Hallmark magazine photo shoot. Remember the dinner party feature that was being shot at my home? It was not only a ton of fun, but we didn't want it to end! From the stylists and hair and makeup folks, to the photographers and fabulous producers, we had a blast and just loved the experience. (You should have seen my husband getting his makeup done -- classic!). 

I'll let you know when the story will run (I'm working on it now), when I hear from my editor. For now, I have several other Hallmark features in the works, one of them has me cooking up some delicious things in my kitchen. I'll share more soon. 

What's on your plate? 

Mother's Day gifts that give back

I wrote this story, in the May issue of Cooking Light, about Mother's Day gifts that give back. Isn't it a great concept to buy a gorgeous bouquet, gift basket, etc., for mom, and see 10 percent or more go to a great charity? Anyway, I think so. And, Jason, if you're reading, I love the roses from organicbouquet.com, and the gift basket from Bumble B Design is lovely too. Hint hint.

A discombobulated day

Do you ever wake up (cliche alert) on the wrong side of the bed? That's what happened to me today. All day, I've walked around forgetting things, tripping over toys, and committing lots of email bloopers (you know, emails that you accidently send to the wrong person or send too soon -- before you've spell checked or really thought about what you wrote). Sigh. I also spilled tomato soup on myself and yelled at my dog for no reason. Poor Paisley. (And don't worry, I gave her a hug an hour later. And, she was kind of guilty. Yesterday she trampled my tulips.)

But anyway, today I also left the house for the grocery store, and forgot my shopping list. Even though it was raining and windy, even though I had to hike up these huge stairs and walk back to my house (with a toddler on my hip), I did. Because I'm blind without a shopping list. Without one I buy pastries and muffins and chocolate and wine. Impractical things that sound great at the moment, but don't put dinner on the table. 

So, imagine my surprise when I get to the market and can't find my list. Again. I'm thinking to myself, didn't I just turn my car around a few minutes ago to get this thing? Didn't I stuff it in my purse? Am I going mad? 

An hour later, after my groceries were paid for and bagged, I reached into my pocket, and there it was: a reminder of all the things I'd forgotten to buy, and maybe of all the things that were going wrong with this day. 

Seriously, losing my mind today. 

Do you have days like this? Days where everything just feels a bit "off"?

P.S. The allergist says my son is now allergic to all tree nuts (especially pecans), in addition to peanuts. So if you come by to visit, there will be no pecan pie here (even if it is one of my faves). 

My new project

On a lighter note (to balance out the subject of my last post), I want to tell you about a new personal project I'm working on -- one I'm very excited about, maybe because it has nothing to do with parenting, or magazine writing, or book writing. It's a much-needed diversion all in the name of personal enrichment. 

First, let me give you some background:

When you were young, did you ever have a pen pal? In second grade, I wrote back and forth with a girl in New York City. I wish I could remember her name, but all I can recall is that she lived in a cluttered apartment in Brooklyn (I know, because she sent a photo) with two cats. At the time, I couldn't believe that a girl could live in a big apartment building in the city. No yard? No garden? No place to ride a bike? I learned a lot that year. 

So, I wondered recently: Why couldn't I try the whole pen pal thing again as an adult? Could I find a woman in another country, perhaps, who would be willing to write each other letters for a year via a blog that we'd share? What could we learn from each other -- two strangers -- about friendship and life and happiness through the experience?

And, halfway across the globe, Valentina Russo, a woman in Marseille, France, as decided to give it a try and become grownup, modern-day pen pals. Like me, Valentina is 30, and works in the communications/media field. But unlike me, she speaks five languages (her English is fluent, and adorable at the same time!) and not a mother yet, and wondering if it's in her future. She also seems to have a certain zest for life that I admire -- and this is apparent only from our first few letters. I think we have a lot to learn from each other, and we've made a commitment to write frequently for a year. 

Want to read along and see our friendship unfold? Our blog is called Franglish. Stop by and send us some love! 

Life, forever changed by peanuts

It came on so suddenly, I hardly knew what was happening.  

Yesterday, while I was shopping at Trader Joe's with my 15-month-old son, Carson, he started whining for a box of crackers he saw on the snack aisle. I opened the box in the checkout aisle, and gave him one: a tiny little organic peanut butter cracker. 

Actually, a tiny little organic peanut butter cracker that could have ended his life. 

He put the cracker into his mouth and instantly spit it out. Then he played with it until it disintegrated in his hands. By the time I buckled him into his car seat, he was rubbing his eyes. I thought he was tired. We drove a few miles down the road to pick up Jason, my husband, at work (he works at a hospital), and when I turned around to look at Carson I almost screamed. 

My little baby was blotchy and red. There were purple hives all over his face and down his neck. His eyes were swollen. His hands were red and blotchy. 

I knew in an instant: He was having an allergic reaction to peanuts. 

 

We rushed him to the clinic, across the street, where they had an Epi Shot waiting. Because he didn't swallow the cracker, it wasn't necessary as his reaction was much lighter than it could have been. They gave him an antihistamine, instead, and a referral to an allergist. 

Later, when we got home, and I had a chance to wind down and process what had just happened (Note: This whole experience didn't even phase Carson. He was all puffy and swollen and red with this huge grin on his face walking into the clinic. He smiled at all the kids (who looked back at him a little horrified) and tried to say "fish" when he noticed the aquarium in the waiting room), I realize what a life changing thing had just happened. 

While about 20 percent of kids can "grow out of" peanut allergies, the majority have them for life. So, Carson is going to have to learn, from an early age that he has to be extra diligent about what he eats; that a kiss from someone who has just eaten a peanut butter cookie could be the kiss of death (yes, I will be interviewing his potential girlfriends for their ability to take this seriously); that he can't have any peanuts on the airplane, or sit next to someone who has (breathing in the vapors from the bag could be very harmful); and that carrying epinephrin with him at all times is a new way of life. 

And with this new reality, Jason and I find ourselves blaming ourselves. Did we introduce peanut butter too soon? Most experts say after 12 months, it's OK, but to be safe, wait till 3. What was I thinking? Was this just hereditary? My mom's late father had food allergies. Maybe a connection? According to some troubling statistics, food allergies in children have more than doubled in the past 10 years? WHY? What the heck is going on here? 

I've thrown out all peanut products in our house, including cooking oil, and any other foods that were "processed in plants that contain peanuts." I've made an appointment with an allergist. And tonight, when we went out to a restaurant, I spoke to five staff members, from the waiter to the manager, about whether there was any peanut ingredients in the building. Luckily, it was a pizza place, and the answer was no. 

But mostly, we're just reeling from this shock to the system. I've decided that when I explain this all to Carson one day -- when he can understand what I'm talking about -- that I'll tell him about Superman. But instead of peanuts, he had Cryptonite. Not a bad analogy, eh?

So, if you are a peanut-allergy sufferer -- or have a child who is -- please drop me a note. I'm new to this, and a little scared. 

The illusive cup of coffee

I've heard rumors about the new coffee machine, Clover, making its way to some local cafes here in Seattle -- rumors that die-hard coffee fans, like me, are literally falling to their knees in pure joy upon taking a sip. An urban coffee legend? I had to see what all the fuss was about, so today, I visited my fave local cafe to taste for myself. 

For the last month or so, this place has been brewing Clover-made coffee. And, for those of you who aren't sure what I'm talking about -- Clover is a startup (or was a startup -- see below, and you'll know what I mean) that plunked more than a million dollars into a new coffee-brewing technology that has high hopes to revolutionize drip coffee. The machine they created sells to coffee shops for about $8,000. 

OK, so I was hopeful, but skeptical. I ordered a tall cup of drip -- a Guatemalan blend -- and took a sip. 

[Insert sound of triumphant, joyful classical music, as the clouds open up and a ray of light shines down on my coffee cup.] 

This coffee is pure, unadulterated heaven. I nursed the cup down to the very last drop, then schemed, all the way home, about how I could convince Jason that we need one of these machines. That we can't live without it. That we should stop putting money into Carson's college fund, and instead create a Sarah's Clover Coffee Machine Fund. 

But, there was no point even going there, because the company was just sold (last week) to ... guess who ... Starbucks. 

Interview with "Violet" author Melissa Walker

Today I'm talking to NYC writer Melissa Walker. I've never met Melissa, in person anyway, but somehow I get the feeling that if we lived in the same city, I'd invite her to all of my parties (not that I'm throwing many these days with a baby in the house). She's fun and down to earth -- and also a writer with a voice I admire. 

Melissa just published her second book, "Violet by Design," a follow up to her successful first young adult novel, "Violet on the Runway." Here's what she had to say about fashion, writing, life in general:

SJ: Except for my obsession with The Babysitters Club series in the 80s, I am a bit of a newcomer to young adult (YA) fiction. How did you find yourself writing in this genre and what about the category do you get excited about?

MW: I honestly think it was the ELLEgirl audience who inspired me—they were such smart, funny girls and I got to the point where I wanted to write more for them.

I love writing for teenagers because I think they’re such an honest, open audience. They’ll tell you if they LOVE a story and they’ll call you out if something just sucks.

SJ: What is your advice to writers who want to break into YA fiction writing? Be up on trends? Channel your inner 17 year old?

MW: No need to be up on trends as long as you can tap into the real emotions that you felt when you were 17. Teen years hold some of the most poignant moments in life—my life anyway—and if you get those moments down, if you can tell them in a way that resonates, it doesn’t matter if you’re trendy or old-fashioned. The most important thing is that the FEELING of what you write is true.

SJ: A lot of people can only dream of making it to where you are at right now — working as a full-time writer, NYC no less. I’m there too, except in Seattle, where it rains. A lot. But, back to writing: As much as I love this gig, sometimes it can feel isolating. What kinds of things do you do to keep your work fresh and to beat feelings of isolation?

MW: I go to the gym, I make plans most nights of the week to see friends, I talk to my coffee shop lady, I shoot the breeze with the UPS guy when he comes. Basically, I take any chance for interaction I can get. Because you’re right—isolation can become a problem. It also seems to have caused a phone phobia—seriously, I hate answering my phone during the day!

SJ: Fashion is a big part of your VIOLET books. Curious: do you know a lot about fashion (the history of Chanel, the latest and greatest new designer to hit Milan)? Or maybe the question is, do you care about fashion — as in, do you save up your pennies to buy a designer dress or just head to Target? (And, just so you know, you’re talking to someone who wears Uggs and yoga pants most days. What can I say? I have a toddler.)

MW: As an editor at ELLEgirl, I interviewed a lot of fashion types and up-and-coming models. So I know a little bit, and I’ve gotten to go to a few fashion week shows. I also got to attend Fashion Week in Sao Paulo, Brazil once, which was a crazy enlightening experience. I keep up with fashion blogs, I enjoy knowing just the basics, but no, I can’t name season, designer and line in one glance.

SJ: I read something recently, I think it was from Anna Quindlen, about the importance of not confusing your life with your work. This resonated with me, since most of the time my work feels like my life: It’s what I think about a lot — way too much. It’s what I get excited about. It’s what I worry about. And on and on. I’m fortunate to love what I do, but big note to self: Work should not, and does not, define me. On that not, writing aside, what else is brewing in your life?

MW: Ooh, this is a blurry line for me, too. I’m recently engaged, though, so I’ve at least stopped working long enough to date someone for a while, right? I also have fantastic friends and a pretty healthy social calendar—I love a good beer garden. And I do yoga and run in the park. That’s pretty much it. Mostly, I write and work. (Because I really love it!)

It was bound to happen

Mothers cherish the milestones in their babies' lives. First they babble, then they crawl. They toddle, then they're saying "mama." Well, last week, my son hit another milestone. This one, well, I'm not so thrilled about. Why, you ask? He's learned how to turn the TV on and off. 

It was cute at first. "Oh look, he turned the TV on, can you believe that!"

But that didn't last long. Especially when I was watching something really important on the evening news, and he walked over and turned it off, giving me a look as if to say "hah, look who's in charge now!"

Or when it was time for bed, and he trotted over to the screen with his little pointer finger and hit the "on" button -- again.

You get the idea. 

At least he's not surfing the Web yet. I have that to be grateful for.

Some of this, some of that

I have been a very bad blogger. This week, I find myself with several deadlines, a boy who has decided he's not into napping, and a to-do list the length of a football field. Wait a minute, that sounds like last week, and the week before that, and the week before that. Yeah, earth to Sarah: life is busy. 

I'd like to give you some updates by way of my favorite literary tool, the list:

*I'm writing several really great articles for CNN.com right now. Check the "lifestyle" tab this month and next for my byline. Seriously, you're going to get a kick out of several of these stories. One of them, hands down, makes the Top 10 Favorite Stories I've Written list. 

*Recently, I bought the book "Your Spirited Child" on Amazon. Because, you know, I'm raising one. Funny thing happened: When it came in the mail today (I should mention, it's a used book), one of the corners had clearly been chewed off by the previous owners, or rather, the previous owner's spirited child. It looked like some kid took a bite out of the bottom corner -- chomped it right off. I had to laugh at this. Clearly, someone else's spirited child is more spirited than my spirited child. Still, I'm keeping the book away from Carson.

*My agent is sending out my novel to publishers this week. It's an exciting, and scary, time for a writer -- knowing that your work is being read by editors at the big houses, that your agent might call at any moment with NEWS, that you may be gearing up for a big rejection, all the while worrying that you should have fixed that dialogue on page 33, or the description on page 128, or the ending or the beginning or the middle. You get the idea. I'm hoping for the best, but preparing for the worst. No matter the outcome, my husband I are cracking open a bottle of champagne to celebrate the milestone.

*Just wondering: Does everyone in America suddenly have Celiac disease? Do I have Celiac disease?  

*In the period of three days, I have fallen in love and fallen out of love with a home. Not mine, but a house down the block that just went up for sale. On Monday I was certain we should buy it, tear it down, and build our dream home. I envisioned dogs and kids and friends frolicking in the backyard, the smell of BBQ in the air. By today, it was just "meh." Funny how house-shopping can be such an emotional rollercoaster. I have shed more tears over houses in the last 6 years. 

*I'm doing some new features this spring for Hallmark magazine, one of my new favorite publications. Every time I pick up this mag, I learn something, tear up about something, or just smile. One of the stories I've been assigned is particularly exciting. I can't give too many details, like why, how, who, or when, but let's just say check the mag next year for a particularly fun dinner story, which will be shot in my home and surrounding neighborhood.

*I also feel compelled to tell you that I'm eating vanilla bean cheesecake right now. 

 

Jazz apples and Cara Cara oranges

How can I put this delicately? Life with a toddler can get, well, kind of bland sometimes. 

You know the drill: Same old routine, same old grocery store shopping list (bread, whole milk, baby food, cereal, repeat). So, for me, nothing cures the blahs better than a day out with a friend, a challenging writing assignment, a new adventure with my little guy (he's into looking at flowers this week, so off to the park we go), or a few great new discoveries at the market.

Today, during a quick trip to the green market for dinner and a few staples, two things caught my eye in the produce aisle. I recalled one of my editors telling me about Cara Cara oranges -- a sweet juicy orange variety that a lot of people are buzzing about right now. So, I bagged some up. 

And then, among the bins of everyday apples, I came across organic "Jazz apples." These small, almost baby-sized, are supposed to be extra tart and crunchy with a tangy, lemony sweetness. I could almost hear Stan Getz playing somewhere as I picked out a few; I couldn't help but let my mind wander the direction of an apple tart, or maybe a simple crisp (which I've been craving ever since I saw Ina Garten make one on the Food Network recently). 

So, there you have it: The cure for my day of toddler blahs: apples and oranges. Oh, and an apricot croissant. That helped, too.