Up close and personal.

When I started the blog back in 2010, I started to remember not only how much I loved writing, but also how much I loved photography. As the blog progressed, I also noticed that my photography skills were improving, naturally. However, last year, I attended BlogHer Food in Seattle, and realized I had a ways to go as far as photography was concerned. The first thing being if I was going to take this food blogging thing seriously, I should invest in a DSLR camera. So I did a bunch of research, and went with the Nikon D3100, which I adore and would recommend to anyone.

When I got the camera, I didn’t bother to read the manual – I’m just not a “manual” person – I’m a hands-on learner – and I just started snapping photos. The first photo I took was this one, of my cat. Not too shabby for a first try.

my first muse.

As I continued snapping away, I noticed that this camera did produce significantly better photos that my old point-and-shoot, however there was so much more it could do that I had yet to understand. I enrolled in a two-hour seminar at a local photography studio, which was helpful and rather enjoyable, however it was not enough time to really learn what this baby was capable of. So, I decided to sign up for real photography class.

It’s only one class in, and I already know it was the best decision I could have made. Our first assignment was an extreme close-up. I decided, again, to use my cat as my model. I took this shot the other day.

you shall not pass.

So, the point I’m trying to make here is that a great camera does make a difference, but a little education really goes a long way. Rome wasn’t built in a day – and certainly not by someone who was just pushing buttons with no real clue what they were doing.

 

 

All is Quiet…

Happy 2013, folks! It’s New Year’s Day – time for reflections, reorganization, and resolutions. I always believed that the tone of New Year’s Day laid the groundwork for the tone of the coming year. It could very well be a self-fulfilling prophecy, but either way, it does seem to hold some truth. So if this day, today, is in fact any indication of the coming year, I’ve got some things to look forward to! 2012 was a good year – a learning year; full of positive changes and some real quality time getting to know myself (allow myself, to introduce…myself).

It’s funny, but the first half of last year seems like a lifetime ago. The year really seemed to take shape for the good around mid-summer (which I aptly have nicknamed “Summer New Year’s), right after my return from the Paris Patisserie Tour. The trip changed me. It showed me that I can wander around a foreign city and be perfectly fine; it showed me that I don’t need my cell phone/laptop/facebook nearly as much as I thought; it showed me that I would be good whether with or without someone; it showed me that I really do have some actual writing and photography skills and that maybe the dream of being a writer was not so far-fetched after all; and most of all, it showed me that the world is a beautiful place and we are all in this together.

I went to Paris looking for pastries, and found myself.

After I returned, I wound up facing three of my biggest fears before the year’s end: two by choice, and one by force of nature (enter Hurricane Sandy). I’d say that 2012 was a benchmark year.

Last New Year’s Day, I danced around the house and sang raucously along with “You Get What You Give” and vowed to make that my intention for the year. Today, I didn’t dance quite so raucously, but I did get a little groove going, and thought about the pure and simple things in life, and how they are really what makes it all worthwhile.

dreams come bouncing in your head…

So here’s to a peaceful and harmonious 2013, full of love and greatness, pure and simple every time.

“What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

Heaven is a Place on Earth called Framlingham.

Framlingham, aka “A friendly place to linger,” is a small town in Suffolk, England, which I stumbled across serendipitously. I was doing some last-minute research for my upcoming trip to England and France – up to this point, I had neglected to do any research on anything in England and been focusing only on Paris and the pastry shop tour I was planning out (and of which I’ll be posting about in full detail in the very near future so stayed tuned!). I realized the day before I was originally supposed to leave (but did not – you can read all about that series of unfortunate events here)  that I hadn’t come up with anything to do in England. I was visiting my brother for that portion of the trip (I’m actually sitting in his living room in Bury St. Edmunds typing this!) so I really was just looking forward to spending time with him, no matter what we wound up doing. However, he was not able to take off work for the entire duration of my trip, so I was going to have some time to myself, which is not a problem for me – particularly in an unfamiliar place, as I love exploring the unknown. I decided I’d venture out on my own. Enter Framlingham.

A friendly place to linger.

I wanted to see castles. I wanted to photograph them with my new camera. So I started googling “castles in suffolk” and seeing what was near my brother’s crib, that I could easily take a train to. Framlingham was not only the closest, but also appeared to be the coolest. It was on.

the castle of my dreams.

I wound up not having to go alone – because I lost a day on my trip, things got shuffled around, and my brother decided the castle sounded pretty cool too, and he’d join me on my journey. So we went exploring together, which made it all the more worthwhile. The town itself was quaint, warm, and welcoming – my kinda place. As we strolled up the path to castle, we also passed an old church, which was incredibly beautiful and monumental in itself – The Church of St. Michael, it had been dubbed.

A friendly place to worship.

The Church was surrounded by old gravestones – so old, that we couldn’t make out what was written on any of them – except one. And although they were old, they were not the least bit creepy. Go figure.

A friendly place to rest in peace.

We continued on up to the castle, and as we crossed the field toward the castle entrance, reaching the top of the hill on which the castle was perched, I could not believe my eyes – I had never in my life seen anything more beautiful. Framlingham was more than just a friendly place to linger – it was stunning.

dreamland.

Now I don’t know if it was the weather, or that I was with my brother, but I as I looked out over the landscape surrounding the castle, I felt as if I were dreaming up this place, one frame after another. We wandered around the entire castle, soaking it all in, chatting, laughing, listening to many owls hooting, and taking as many pictures as I possibly could – I didn’t want to ever forget any of these moments.

one moment in time.

Of course, we had to leave eventually. But we left content – knowing we’d just experienced something truly monumental – both literally and figuratively.

Everyone has a place that changes them – one they feel connected to. Mine just so happens to be Framlingham. I’ll be back.

 

Yesterday’s got nothin’ for me.

Last night was ridiculous – like 90′s sitcom ridiculous.  But things are never as bad as they seem. Which is why I’ve decided to insert gratuitous pictures of lovely flora (all photographed by yours truly) throughout this post as a reminder that there is still a lot of good in the world.

Yesterday, there was so many things I was never told…

I have travelled a lot in my life – I’d say more than the average person. I’ve experienced delays, and even cancelled flights before. But last night takes the cake (see, I’ve managed to incorporate baking into this post too). I was supposed to catch a flight with a connection and wind up in London this morning, at 10am. I was leaving from a smaller airport, with my connection at a signficantly larger one. I arrived with plenty of time, only to discover that 20 minutes before I got there, my first flight was cancelled. I drove over an hour to get to this airport, mind you.

…Now that I’m startin’ to learn I feel I’m growing old.

Without getting into too much detail, I eventually was able to cry and demand my way into a re-booking that solved the problem, and was even better than my original itinerary. Things were looking up, it appeared.

‘Cause yesterday’s got nothin’ for me…

As I’m waiting at the gate for my new flight, a fellow passenger walks up and informs us that this flight is delayed at least an hour, so if you have a connection, you’re pretty much screwed. I did, and I was. Back to the phone to for another re-booking. This time, the only flight was at another airport, about an hour and 20 minutes away. It would be cutting it close, but it was worth a try. So out to the car I ran, and put the pedal to metal (which, anyone who knows me, knows how adept I am at driving under time constraints).

…Old pictures that I’ll always see.

I knew it was going to be close, and I was actually pretty sure that even the fastest driving in the world wouldn’t make it, but the woman on the phone (who was the most helpful person so far) told me to just try, and if I don’t they can re-book me there. Well, for the first time ever, I missed the turn for the parking lot at the airport – an airport I’ve been to and parked in 100 times. Any chance of making this flight at this point were now long gone.

Time just fades the pages in my book of memories.

I arrive finally, park, get into the terminal, and it’s completely empty – like Stephen King movie empty. A not very nice man appears, and tells me no one can help me, and then proceeds to ignore me. I stand there, and just lose it, no knowing what to do now. A very nice man then appears out of nowhere, and finds me help, via three extremely sweet ladies. Thank you very nice man and sweet ladies, karma is on your side.

Prayers in my pocket, and no hand in destiny…

Finally, I’m rebooked on a flight, but not until 24 hours later, but at this point, I just want to get home, relax, and put this all behind me. Not so fast, though. When I turn to leave, I realize I’m on the wrong side of the airport, and can’t catch the shuttle back to my car. Thankfully, a man actually went out of his way, and walked me to the other side. I have to say, there really are some good people in this world. I hope I can return all these favors.

I’ll keep on movin’ along with no time to plant my feet.

Luckily, this airport was actually the closer one to my house, so it was only about a 15 minute drive. However, I was bawling my eyes out the entire way, and it must have affected my driving, because, lo and behold, I see the flashing lights behind me, and I hear “pull into that parking lot” booming from the patrol car. I feel bad – I don’t want to seem like the girl who cries to get out of tickets – but I couldn’t help it. I was already sobbing before this happened. He was very nice. Again, my faith in humanity was being restored even more.

‘Cause yesterday’s got nothin’ for me.

So, even though my vacation has been delayed by a day, there are some valuable things I’ve learned from all this:

1. the cheapest flight is not always the best

2. there are some really good people out there, willing to help even a stranger

3. I am so lucky to have such wonderful friends and family in my life, who are always there to offer me support, listen to me vent, and cheer me up.

Thank you friends, family and strangers – you have all made at least one person’s life a hell of a lot better. Here’s to tomorrow.

 

Up from below.

Sometimes we fall in love with a person. And sometimes, we fall in love with a place.

I am in love again, with what is probably the farthest city in the continental U.S. from my current crib – that would be the lovely, lavish, and lush city of Seattle, WA.

“But Jeanine, you’re a sun worshipper! How could you live in a place where it always rains?” I hear the voices saying. This is true, but it’s not as if there is no sun EVER. And the crazy thing is that I’ve been to Seattle twice now, for a total of two weeks – and in all of that time, it rained for approximately 1 hour. The first time, I assumed I just got really lucky. But after the second trip of blue skies, sun, and humidity-free air, I’m starting to wonder if this whole “rainy city” thing is a myth to keep people from relocating. Besides, what kind of city would pride itself on its giant outdoor market, if it rained so much that no on could enjoy it? Come on, Seattle, I’m on to you.

O what a beautiful day.

Anyway, as I mentioned in my last post, what brought me back to Seattle was the BlogHer Food Conference, which was an amazing experience for me. I left feeling so inspired - I have so many new ideas now for the blog, for photography, for baking…all the things I love the most! (I guess I’ll just need to write a song about it, too). And I already started working on not one, but TWO new books. I’m so pumped, right now, I feel like going out and running up the Art Museum steps, blasting the Rocky theme song (which, by the way, a fish market fellow – upon being informed that I was from Philadelphia - asked me if I liked the Rocky theme song and listened to it a lot).

i will break you.

So, now it’s time to get down to work. I’ve got new recipes to craft, new tales to post, and new days to embrace!

the wheels are in motion.

Thank you Seattle, for the joy and inspiration you’ve given me. Fearless living, here I come.

you can only go up from here.

 

 

Run hard when it’s hard to run.

I was running last night, and did 6 miles. That’s an average run for me these days – 6-8 miles. It wasn’t always that way, don’t get me wrong, but it is what it is, and don’t think for one second that you couldn’t get to that point, too. But that’s not what I’m here to discuss right now. I’m hear to discuss the magic of 3 – 3 miles that is.

I’ve thought about it before – even before I started running long distances. When i was in the early stages of running, I found that getting to 3 miles was extremely difficult. However, one day, I crossed the 3 mile threshold and something changed – training became easier. Ramping up my mileage was suddenly no longer a daunting task, and running was no longer painful – it became fun, exhilirating and even made me happy.

But not for the first 3 miles. For some reason, on every run, the first 3 miles are ALWAYS the hardest. It goes a little something like this:

Mile 1: Awww yeah! I’m gonna rock this run!! Feels like i’m walking on air!

Mile 1.5: Gee, my shins and ankles kinda hurt. And I feel tired. Should I stop?

Mile 2: WTF is wrong with me? Why am I doing this again? My legs feel like lead, and I can’t think of anything other than the pain of every step.

Mile 2.5: GOOD GOD, I’m torturing myself. What for? I hate running!! I’m gonna stop…I can’t take it anymore!!!

Then, just when i’m about to give in, suddenly there’s….

Mile 3: Hello world! I love this life and can go for miles! What’s pain again? Let the real run begin! And the rest is smooth sailing.

Last night, this hit me extra hard. I haven’t done much running since the Broad Street Run a week and a half ago, so this was my big return to running. Those first 3 miles were almost unbearable. I thought about giving up more than a few times. But I knew that if I kept going, I’d get through it, and come out stronger on the other side.

And so I did. But I realized something else as well. I’ve learned so much from running – it’s been a mirror for what’s going on in the rest of my life, and has taught me how to deal with and get through some dark and difficult days. Last night, I learned that there are situations in my life that I’m almost through – that I keep getting close to out-running – yet I just can’t seem to cross the threshold, and I wind up surrendering to the pain. Each time, I do get a little closer though. Even so, I wind up beating myself up over it – because I gave in – again.  But then I remember back to before I reached that 3 mile mark for the first time – I did not know I’d be ok on the other side, and the fear of the unknown was what made it so difficult to keep going. Now that I know, I can handle the pain, and run through it. Not knowing what’s on the other side is my biggest fear. It took time to build up the strengh to run through those first 3 miles. I gave up many times. But eventually, after trying over and over and over and over, I finally did it. And there’s no turning back now.

What I’m learning is that It’s ok if you don’t cross the 3 mile mark right away. It’s ok if you give in to the pain. Just as long as you get back out there, and try to out-run it again. Eventually, whether you believe it or not, you’ll cross over. And it will be great.

 

Sweet Sounds.

Clearly one can gather from this blog that I love baking, and I love writing. If you’ve read a few posts, you may have also gathered that I love running. There is one more love of mine, which you probably don’t know, as I’ve recently come to realize I have not once mentioned it on the blog: singing.

Before I was a baker, writer, or runner, I was a singer. I’ve been a singer pretty much since I learned how to talk. I may have even sung my first word (it was “Dad.”).  I started wondering why I hadn’t mentioned singing at all on the blog, and without getting too much into it, it was because shortly after I started the blog, I suddenly lost my “voice.” Not literally – I could still physically sing. I just could not mentally. It was not stage fright – anyone who knows me knows that the concept of “stage fright” is completely foreign to me. It was literally like I woke up one morning, and never wanted to sing another note, period. Suddenly, the thing I’d loved the longest was torture for me. I was practically repulsed by the idea of getting up in front of people and performing. So I just stopped.

I did virtually no singing/performing for about 9 months, excluding a couple of fill-in gigs and a back-up singing gig here and there. But nothing that was mine - I had removed myself from singing just as the desire had removed itself mysteriously from my heart. I even managed to convince myself (and one of my close friends) that I never really wanted to sing anyway. That performing wasn’t “for me.”

Then, I woke up.

Performing, singing…these are a part of me – they are ingrained in my soul – part of my make-up, my DNA. I’ve been singing since I was THREE YEARS OLD. It’s who I am – it’s my essence. I mean, I have a treble clef tattooed on my shoulder, for pete’s sake. Before anything else, there was singing. And anyone who’s ever sung their heart out on stage knows what a wonderful, amazing, fabulous, and therapeutic release it is. Singing makes me feel alive. Music is the key to the soul. My key must have temporarily slipped under the rug - but thank God it has been found.

So, in keeping with the baking theme, I’m now singing with an acoustic duo, called Sugarbox, and as the name implies, it’s pretty sweet.  Click the image below to check us out, if you’re so inclined.

the sound of sugar.

So if you’ve lost your “voice,” fear not – it will return, when you’re ready. In the meantime,  running a marathon might help.

 

Half Time.

After months of training, I did it – this past Sunday, I ran my first half marathon. Being that it was my very first time running 13.1 miles (the most I’d run up to that point was 10), I was nervous. My goal was to finish, running the whole time. I wasn’t too concerned with time. I just wanted to be able to say “I ran a half marathon” and have it be true. And so it is.

and i have the medal to prove it.

There are three things this experience has taught me:

1. It’s all about pacing yourself. I have a tendency to be a tad competitive, however in order to run a distance such as this, I realized I’m gonna have to let that go. People are always going to pass you. You are always going to pass people. Your goal and their goal are not the same goal. Focus on your goal, and don’t allow yourself to feel inferior because someone appears to be faster than you. You have no idea where they came from or where they’re going. Let them do their thing while you give your full attention to yours.

2. You can’t be great overnight. If I really think about it, I guess you could say I’ve actually been training since 2008, which was when I started running on a regular basis. Last year, I really picked up the pace though (literally) and when Jan 1st 2012 came around, I believed in my running (and training) ability enough that I decided a half marathon would be a New Year’s Resolution. I worked my butt off, folks. When I crossed that finish line, I cried. I’m not ashamed. Getting to that point took hours of hard work, intense training, and proper preparation. It takes all three of these in perfect harmony to run a marathon: and that principle can be applied to anything you really wish to achieve for yourself. You can do whatever you put your mind to, you just have to be willing to put in the work.

3. I will survive. As I was running along the Atlantic Ocean (yes, this marathon was at the beach!), “I Will Survive” came on my ipod. I did not have a pre-programmed “race playlist” – I like to let my ipod surprise me. Well, as the song played, and I ran and ran, I realized that no matter what happens, I really will survive. If I’m strong enough to run non-stop for 13.1 miles, I’m strong enough to stand on my own and do what’s best for me in other areas of my life; even if at first I’m afraid, and I’m petrified. I’ll hold my head up high.

I guess what I’m getting at here is that running a half marathon has changed my life. It taught me lessons I really needed to learn, such as patience, pacing, and doing what’s best for ME. I have had a recurring dream my whole life that tornadoes were chasing me; I refuse to ever dream that dream again.

I’ve finally decided my future lies beyond the Yellow Brick Road.

 

You Get What You Give.

A year ago today, I experienced what may have been the worst thing that ever happened to me. Although I don’t wish pain (mental or physical) on anyone, I do hope that everyone gets to experience such an awakening as I did, and if a horrible event is what brings it about, then so be it.

I learned to be responsible for my actions and to live my life with integrity. I learned that patience truly is a virtue and must be practiced daily. I learned that your body, mind, and spirit are stronger than you could ever imagine, and are capable of healing even the deepest wounds. I learned that being alone does not mean being lonely (and in fact, it has the opposite effect). I learned what it means to have a real friend and to be one in return, and that one real relationship is better than 1000 superficial ones. I learned to laugh more deeply, to cry more openly, and to really get good and angry. I learned that looking people in the eye and telling them the truth is always the right thing to do and brings harmony and peace to your life and theirs (even though it may be the hardest thing you can imagine doing). I learned that love actually…IS all around.

And most importantly, I learned the simplest lesson of all, which is so often taken for granted: You Get What You Give.

if you want to get flowers, you have to give them, too.

Really bad things happen to good people. But it’s through those breakdowns that we can learn what it means to be great people. Be excellent to each other. Time won’t wait for you – so wake up and live while you still can. You’ll wonder where you’ve been all your life.

 

all good things.

I’m very excited about a few baking-related happenings on the horizon, and I wanted to give you, my loyal readers, a sneak preview of the good stuff (along with some gratuitous tempting dessert photos).

Gratuitous dessert #1: Baked Alaska.

Anyway, first and foremost, I’ll be graduating pastry school this December!! December 16th, to be exact. I can’t believe the day is almost here. A wise man told me when I started that it would be over before I knew, it, and so it is. I’m happy and sad at the same time. I’ll miss school. Although it was stressful, and I had to make some sacrifices, it’s been so much fun. I’ve met some great people, learned sooooo much about baking and desserts, and have some very entertaining stories to share. I would encourage anyone who’s thinking about it to just do it. It’s never too late to pursue your dreams.

Gratuitous dessert #2: Crêpe Suzette complete with Flambé.

Secondly, a new book is in the works!!! It’s still in the very preliminary stages, but is being worked on as I type. Hey if there are any desserts you’d like to see in the new book, tell me! I’m all about suggestions.

Gratuitous dessert #3: pumpkin cheesecake.

Finally, there are some exciting developments and upcoming events for Small Indulgences overall, including three Holiday Fairs, among other things. I can’t speak much on it yet, but let’s suffice it to say that it’s all that and then some. (I’m intentionally be mysterious to pique your curiousity and make you come back.)

Thank you all for your continued readership, support, feedback and dessert-eating. Without you, I wouldn’t be here. And here is always the best place to be. ,

In closing, some words to live by:

“Fear less, hope more; Eat less, chew more; Whine less, breathe more; Talk less, say more; Love more, and all good things will be yours.” – Swedish Proverb