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Davey’s Famous Pretzels

pretzels

Sometimes my friends from the South use the phrase “y’all” as a complete sentence. It means, “Oh my goodness, you guys, can you believe it?” For example, we may go to the mall and see an awesome deal. Someone will simply say, “Y’all” to get our attention and hold up the price tag.

When I first tasted these pretzels, I wanted to look around to anyone who will listen and just say, “Y’all.” THESE ARE AMAZING. And no words can really describe them. If Davey didn’t like his job so much, I think I could convince him to quit and open up his own pretzel stand in the mall. He could give Auntie Anne a run for her money, that’s for sure.

Davey typically looks for extremely easy recipes (less than 5 ingredients), so I was surprised when he told me yesterday he was going to make pretzels. (side note: This may or may not have been after he took me to the mall because I told him I was craving mall pretzels — after which we left the mall empty handed because the pretzels looked ‘too hard and dry’ to satisfy my craving…err…). Not to say I don’t have confidence in my husband’s skills, but it seemed like a far-fetched idea for Davey—whose first home cooked meal two years ago consisted of a hot dog on a piece of white bread with shredded cheese on top—to make something that required active dry yeast. Doesn’t yeast make things difficult?

Well, apparently not. This recipe turned out surprisingly easy and surprisingly scrumptious.

I’m willing to share Davey’s recipe with you, but ladies, you’re on your own for finding a man who will make homemade pretzels for you when your 23 weeks pregnant and having strange cravings.

If you don’t want to just say, “Y’all!” after your first bite, then you must be missing some taste buds.

Ingredients

1 cup milk
1 package active dry yeast
3 tablespoons packed light brown sugar
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
10 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 teaspoon fine salt
1/3 cup baking soda

Sweet Flavoring:
1 cup sugar
3/4 cup brown sugar
dash of cinnamon

Directions
Warm the milk in a saucepan until it’s hot enough to stick your finger in the milk for 5 seconds, (think just above hot tub temperature). Pour into a medium bowl and stir in one packet of yeast. Let sit about 2 minutes. Stir in the brown sugar and 1 cup flour. Soften 2 tablespoons of butter and stir into the mix. Add the remaining 1 1/4 cups flour and salt. At this point, the dough should be sticky. Knead the dough on a lightly floured surface for about 5 minutes. Dough should be softer, but still slightly sticky. Shape into a ball and place in a lightly greased bowl. Cover with plastic wrap and let sit for one hour. Dough will double in size.

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.

Punch the dough to deflate it, then place on a lightly floured surface. Use a pizza cutter to slice dough into 12-15 pieces. Roll each piece into the thickness of your finger. Each piece of dough should be about 6-12 inches long.

Dissolve the baking soda in 3 cups warm water in a shallow baking dish. Dip each pretzel stick in the soda solution, and lay on greased baking sheet (or pizza brick) leaving room between each pretzel stick.

Bake 5-7 minutes or until lightly golden brown.

Melt butter. Brush over each stick. Dip pretzel sticks into sugar and brown sugar mixture.

Enjoy!

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Stop and smell the coffee

coffee

Coffee.

It’s the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning.

And it’s the last thing I think about when I go to bed at night as I prepare the pot for the next day’s dose.

Like anything else in life that is amazingly good, one can consume too much, not enough, or just the right amount. (I guess Goldilocks had it right the whole time)

This is how I use the amount of coffee I drink as an indicator of the priorities in my life:

1. Too much coffee: Can there be such a thing as too much coffee??!! Yes, there can. When I think of someone who drank too much coffee, I think of my creepy middle school band teacher who always had a cup o’ joe in his hand and the smell of burnt coffee on his dry breath. I would practice my clarinet so much so I wouldn’t mess up in class for fear Mr. Woodworth would walk up to me in class, lean in real close, and tell me with his smelly breath that I messed up. I’m not kidding. He had quite the pot belly, too. When bored, I would imagine that if I stuck a needle in his belly, coffee would sprout out.

I do not want to become that person.

More than 2 cups is too much for me, and that’s when I stop myself and think of Mr. Woodworth. I think Mr. Woodworth drank too much coffee because he was bored with his job. But for me, too much coffee usually means I am overworking myself, and I need to get more sleep. The time in my life when I drank too much coffee was during grad school. I drank coffee for the energy to study. I would drink it morning, noon, and night. I didn’t even stop and enjoy it really; I just drank it as a drug to stay awake and alert. So if I am tempted to reach for that third cup, I remind myself to slow down.

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Studying over coffee

2. Not enough coffee: Aside from the times when I used coffee as a drug to stay awake and alert, I love the experience of sipping coffee. My earliest memory of coffee is watching my mom sip it in the morning when I would get ready for school. She would wake us up, help us get our breakfast and lunches ready, then sit in her robe and sip coffee. She would hold her mug with two hands, keeping it close to her mouth. I asked her once why she held her coffee to her mouth when she wasn’t drinking it, and she said, “Because I love the smell of it.” I would board the bus, turn around and wave to mom, and she would smile over her coffee mug. At an early age, I couldn’t wait to be an adult and enjoy coffee. I recognized that sipping coffee was an experience to be savored and appreciated. Now, as an adult, I often find myself running out the door in the morning without my morning coffee because there are thingsineedtodo and peopleineedtosee. That’s when I think of my mom on our early school mornings and remind myself to slow down.

3. Just the right amount of coffee: If I am drinking just the right amount of coffee, I am able to sit, sip, and simmer. The experience of 1-2 cups of coffee provides time for a good conversation with a friend, the formation of a new idea, or the necessary closure to an ongoing thought. When I am drinking 1-2 cups a day, I am spending the right amount of time in purposely purposeless thought.

After all, it’s the subtle nuances of everyday life that should be appreciated over a cup of coffee. So when I am so busy that I need coffee as a drug to stay awake, or so busy that I don’t have time to enjoy the experience of coffee, I remind myself to stop and smell the coffee to fully appreciate life.

coffee
Coffee on Folly Beach

5 things to consider when looking for Mr. Right

Photo by Honey and Salt {http://honeyandsalt.us}
Photo by Honey and Salt {http://honeyandsalt.us}

I feel like I really lucked out with my Mr. Right. I mean, I really lucked out.

The other day, my husband cooked dinner. Usually whoever cooks gets to sit out of doing the dishes. But on this particular night, he even did the dishes. I wanted to sing on the rooftops, scream it to every girl I know, “THERE IS A MAN IN THE WORLD WHO COOKS AND DOES DISHES!” When I realized that I was getting overly excited about this situation, I suddenly became extremely sad for girls all over. I mean, we get excited when we find a man who will do dishes. That’s sad, right? What are our expectations for men?

Then I thought about all the other reasons I feel like I lucked out with my Mr. Right: He cleans (himself and the house), he has a good work ethic, he is financially disciplined, he considers and respects what I want, and I genuinely love him.

This shouldn’t be lucking out. This should be the norm.

No wonder why we have TV shows where ABC finds one guy with these qualities and has 25 women pursue him.

I wanted to write this post for two reasons. The first reason is that I want girls all over to know there are men who can take care of life issues, and those are the men they should choose to be with. Second, I want men all over to realize that girls are now going to look for guys who can take care of life issues, so it’s time you all start figuring it out.

Here are five things to consider when choosing your Mr. Right:

1. Cleanliness. When was his last haircut? Scratch that….what I mean is, does he look scraggly? If he can’t take care of his hygiene, how is he going to take care of his life? What does his home look like? Does he own cleaning products? If he doesn’t know what a Swiffer is by now, you can bet he won’t be the one to think of cleaning the floor once you’re married. I’m not suggesting he needs to get a mani/pedis, but its important that some standards exist.

2. Work Ethic. There is a lot to be said for a man who can find a job, keep a job, and excel at his job. It shows he can be dedicated to something. He can work for something. He doesn’t give up when things get tough. Even if he has had a hard time keeping a job (this economy is crazy), does he follow a dream of his? Does he pursue something?

3. Financial Discipline. He doesn’t have to be the richest man in the world; that’s not what’s important. But if he is older than 22 and hasn’t considered a savings account, you might want to see where his financial priorities lie. Before getting married, ask him if he has credit card debt. Ask him how much he has in savings. I can’t begin to tell you how much this will affect your marriage, even if you are doing separate accounts. If he blows his account at the casino, on a big screen TV, or on a new car, the only thing you have for your family is what you are contributing. You want to be able to fully trust that he will be honest with his finances, and you want to feel safe with him having some control over yours. He doesn’t have to be the breadwinner, but he should be able to spend and save wisely.

4. Consideration and respect. It’s okay if you don’t agree on everything, but does he respect your thoughts and opinions? Does he ask you what you want? You know the saying, “Women are from Venus, men are from Mars.” Men will never understand the purpose of a throw pillow. But does he make an effort to see your point of view?

5. Love. My husband is my favorite person in the world. I wouldn’t have married anyone else. If I were single until age 75, then met my husband, my life would be complete. I would rather be single my whole life to meet Davey at the end than to have been with another man the whole time. There is no rush…just don’t settle. Mr. Right is worth waiting for.

So, in my last plea for good-standing men, let’s heighten our expectations of what we deserve, and in response, the men will have to rise to the occasion.

Photo by Honey and Salt {honeyandsalt.us}
Photo by Honey and Salt {honeyandsalt.us}

Save heels for the weekend

Here’s a riddle for you.

Who owns 200+ pairs of high heels and suffers from low back pain?

This girl:

carrie_bradshaw_tutu
“Who, me?”

I LOVE high heels. I NEED high heels. (side note: my husband tells me I use the phrase “I need it” too much. Don’t know what he’s talking about). I feel like high heels were MADE for girls like me. God blessed me with short, stubby legs and a torso long enough to make me think I have extra vertebrae. I NEED the length that high heels offer my short legs.

But let’s talk about what high heels do to our bodies from a mechanics stand point, and how that can result in pain in strange places (not just our toes).

First, we need to think of our bodies in terms of lever arms, joints, forces, and vectors. Remember physics? Remember Newton? His third law stated, “For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.”

Let’s keep this in mind.

There’s a million and one ways high heels change the orientation of our posture and movement, but I am going to focus on 3 for today.

1. Due to the upward force of the actual heel (aka the stiletto), the posterior part of our pelvis is raised. This is awesome for the booty. This exact effect is what I believe inspired Sir Mix-a-lot’s song, “Baby Got Back.” If Newton’s third law is correct (which it is), then there must be an opposite reaction from our upper body so we don’t get thrown forward. We have to lean back to keep our shoulders over our hips. This causes an extension force on our low back, and subsequently pain if this position is maintained for long periods of time. You can see this happening to Kim Kardashian when she tries to figure out how to pump gas.

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2. Keeping in mind that the posterior part of our pelvis moves UP due to the force of the heel, the front part of the pelvis must move DOWN. The muscles on the front part of the pelvis that connect the pelvis to the femur (thigh bone) are subsequently placed in a shortened position. No big deal if this is for one night, but over time, shortening of these muscles feeds into pulling the pelvis forward even when we are just in our slippers at home! Pulling the pelvis forward causes that extension force in the low back we talked about in #1. Ouch.

kim_kardashian_mintgreen_jack-ant tilt

3. The third and most obvious consequence of high heels is that they shorten our calf muscles. Again, this is pretty awesome when we feel inclined to wear heels after that killer calf workout so we can show off the definition we worked so hard for. Thank you, heels, for making my stubby legs look fake-muscular. But once we take those heels off, the shortened calf muscles pull our knees backward, likely causing hyperextension. Do you know a female over the age of 50 who has had a knee replacement? You can tell her to thank her knees for all that hyperextension in her youth. At least now her new metal knees give her an excuse to avoid the metal detectors in the airport. Oh, but unfortunately that results in an awkward pat-down. It’s a lose-lose.

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Photo from lotusimprints.com

So there you have it. High heels cause our backs to extend, our hip flexors to shorten, and our calves to pull our knees beyond where they should be.

But, if you’re like me, you can’t give up heels completely. We NEED them, right? So wear heels in moderation and live by my mantra: Save heels for the weekends.

Cheers to being female.