The October Edition
The October Edition
A little rambling and a few things I loved this month
The Monthly Edition is a fluid and ever-changing collection of the things that are currently taking up space in my brain. My likes, dislikes, recommendations, and more, both food-related and completely, totally not. Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy.
If my October could be summed up in one word, it would be: waiting. In two words? Crankily waiting. I wish I could say it was patience, or patiently waiting, or something equally virtuous and serene, but it’s just not.
Usually I’m one to say, don’t wait! Do the thing, and do it now. Break out the good plates, wear the dress, go to that restaurant, make the recipe, open your favorite bottle of wine, take the bucket-list vacation, pursue that business idea you’ve been toying with for ages, launch that newsletter. The perfect time is never and the perfect time is now.
But, there are times when the rules don’t apply. And October has definitely put my impatience to the test.
It feels as if I’ve spent most of the month anxiously, eagerly in suspense. Preparing for, hoping for, expecting — literally expecting. As I write this, it’s Saturday, October 26th. My fifth wedding anniversary, and a very good day for this baby in my belly to be born. Because at 39 weeks and three days pregnant, I’m very ready to not be pregnant anymore.
Being pregnant is a gift, of course, but being nine months pregnant is sometimes not. And after a few weeks of consistent “this is definitely it” moments, incredibly realistic dreams about going into labor, sleepless nights and all-day discomfort, doctors visits that end with some version of “sounds like it’s going to happen soon,” and a seemingly never-ending barrage of calls and texts asking some version of are you still pregnant?, every day that I wake up still pregnant feels a little worse than the one before.
(Please, for the love of God, do not ask a pregnant woman if she is still pregnant.)
But waiting is all I can do right now. Wait, and try to get a few more newsletter recipes done so I can send them to you after the baby is here. Wait, and spend as much time as I can soaking up my life as a family of three — because that is something I’m definitely going to miss in a few hours or days or weeks. Wait, and organize the baby’s room a bit more. Wait, and make tentative plans with friends that might need to be cancelled last minute. Wait, and eat elaborate, over-the-top, exactly-what-I’m-craving meals because it might be my last before I go into labor and damnit, I’ll need fuel then.
And I feel like I can’t wait anymore! Which is a funny saying when you think about it, because most of the time “I can’t wait” refers to something you literally have to wait for, no matter how much you want it to happen now. Things like:
Smelling my newborn’s head.
Finally deciding on her name.
Sleeping on my back, with only my baby to wake me up and not acid reflux, my bladder, or my aching hips.
Going to Queen Street on a brisk fall afternoon and ordering a dozen oysters, a plate of hot, crispy french fries, and a bottle of cold, crispy wine. Eating and drinking said things with my baby in my arms, my 3-year-old, Sasha, and my husband, Denis, around the table with me.
Walking up the stairs without needing to rest afterwards.
Drinking a very dirty gin martini, extra olives, with a very good burger, preferably sitting at the bar somewhere with Denis and no kids.
Eating sushi.
Changing my clothes without getting out of breath.
Changing my clothes, as in wearing anything besides the two dresses, leggings, and maternity bike shorts I’ve been wearing on repeat for as long as I can remember.
Having a little at-home aperitivo hour with mortadella, prosciutto, and wine.
Going on walks and to hot yoga.
Reinstating Denis and my weekly tradition of tacos and margs, wherein he goes to Angel’s Tijuana Tacos to pick up an obscene amount of food while I make margaritas, and we reconvene on the floor in front of the coffee table to drink, eat, and watch a movie.
I can’t wait but… I must. And while I begrudgingly do, here are some things that have helped get me through.
Chocolate, meet orange: I’ve been obsessed with the combination of chocolate and orange. It started with the most delicious gelato I’ve ever had at Pazzogelato in Silver Lake and continued with Spring & Mulberry’s new blood orange-flavored chocolate bars (which the brand generously gifted me). Since then, I can’t get enough. I’m dreaming up chocolate-orange treats I’ll make soon, like a chocolate and orange liqueur-spiked affogato, or chocolate orange cinnamon rolls, or chocolate orange tiramisu.
seems to be on the same wavelength as me and I can’t wait to make her chocolate orange mousse served adorably in oranges, and her chocolate orange s’mores pie. (P.S.: her newsletter is one of my favorites.)Reading but not reading: After a few months of consistently crushing book after book on my Kindle and on Audible, I’ve really slowed down in October. Maybe it’s all those shows I’ve been watching? Anyways, I’m reading Avalon Tower on my Kindle, a fantasy book that was a
rec. I’m not not into it but I’m not super into it either, and to be honest I’m not sure why I didn’t immediately move on to the Crescent City series after I finished Throne of Glass. I also started listening to the audiobook version of Be Ready When the Luck Happens. I love hearing Ina Garten narrate her own memoir and am enjoying it, I just haven’t gotten that hooked feeling yet where I feel the pull to listen to an audiobook during every spare moment I can find.Friday night tradition: Ozzy’s Apizza is a New Haven-style pizza joint in Glendale that is honestly so good. We’ve been picking up a couple ‘zas every Friday evening and I think it’s truly my favorite pizza in LA right now, and my favorite weekly tradition. We go around 5:30, which is mine and Sasha’s dinner time (hers because she’s 3, mine because acid reflux if I eat too close to bedtime), and then bring the pizza home and eat it on the couch while watching a movie. Ozzy’s also has a really cute patio area and a full bar, but no ranch dressing which is rude. This might be New Haven-style pizza but… this is California.
Pasta all day, baby: It's no secret that I love pasta, but I don’t think I’ve ever loved it or craved it more than I have over the past couple weeks. I’ve made pasta alla vodka for lunch. I’ve made pasta with broccoli rabe and sausage for dinner. I’ve mixed pasta with rotisserie chicken, olive oil, and dried herbs — a quick meal I used to make when I was in high school that hasn’t sounded good in over a decade but somehow, all of a sudden, really hits the spot. I’ve dragged my husband to any and every restaurant serving up steamy, al dente bowls of pasta goodness. I’ve eaten cold pasta leftovers straight out of the fridge while making breakfast. I think I’m carboloading for the marathon that is birth? Or I’m just unwilling to say no to my cravings. Either way.
Cake for breakfast: Speaking of giving in to my cravings, I recently made a pumpkin bundt cake, which was so good and moist and fresh that we ended up eating it for breakfast most days until it was gone (didn’t take long). And that had me craving cake for breakfast, which led me to bake an apple cake, and now I think I might need to bake something weekly to keep in a cute little covered cake stand on the counter and eat with a hot cup of coffee on the daily?
Marlboro Man: Ya know those feel-good TV shows that are like a mental weighted blanket? The first season of Ted Lasso is that for me. I put it on a couple weeks ago when I was sure I was in labor to help ease my mind a bit, and have been rewatching an episode or two a day ever since. Before that, I watched The Perfect Couple and Nobody Wants This and loved both, though I’m not sure I’ll be putting either on when contractions start.
Room spray: I ordered this room spray on Amazon to use in the hospital and I might have to order another because we might just finish the bottle before I go into labor. We’ve been spraying it in our bedroom nightly and all around the house when it needs an extra boost, and it makes everything smell like a spa. Only downside is the scent doesn’t last that long, but it’s so pleasant to spray right before getting into bed.
Embracing my Swedish side: We moved in to my childhood home earlier this year, and what was once the breakfast nook is now my “studio.” Since we basically combined kitchens with my dad (him and I are both unwilling to part with most of our cooking accoutrements), there’s basically zero storage space in there. I originally was on the hunt for a vintage/secondhand credenza or buffet-type thing to store my glasses, plates, cookbooks, and other things I like to keep handy while filming recipes and cooking in general, but then I saw this cabinet situation at IKEA (a combo of this and this) and kind of fell in love with it. So much storage space, so much room to artfully arrange. And I love that we have a cute little coffee (and, ahem, cake) station. Need to get some curtains and art and possibly a new dining table for this space, too.