I LOVE FALL. I love soups. I love pumpkins. I love spice-lattes. I love soups. I love cool crisp weather. I love bonfires. I love hayrides. I love (UT) football. And did I mention that I love soups??
When I lived in Knoxville, I was a big fan of the restaurant Calhoun's. In particular, I love their white chicken chili. So one of the first recipes I found to cook after getting married was a copy-cat-recipe of Calhoun's white chicken chili. I've made it many many times over the last 6 years, and it's always a favorite with friends.
I thought some of you might enjoy trying it as well!
Buen Provecho!
Ingredients:
1 cup onions finely diced
1 teaspoon oregano
1 tablespoon olive oil
4 cups water
4 cups chicken broth
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon cumin
1/2 tablespoon fresh cilantro
1 4 oz can canned diced green chiles
1 lb boneless skinless chicken breasts
6 cups great northern beans, from canned (which is equivilent to 3cans of beans, but I like a lot of beans so I use FOUR 15 oz cans of great northern beans)
1/2 cup cornstarch
1/2 cup cold water
Directions
Trim all fat and cartilage from the chicken breasts.Place on a baking pan.Bake at 325 degrees for 20-30 minutes or until chicken is cooked throughout.Allow to cool, then hand pull into small pieces (or shred in food processor). Set aside.Saute diced onions, oregano and olive oil together in a soup pot. Cookfor about 5 minutes. (or until onions are tender)Combine water, chicken broth, garlic, cumin, cilantro and green chilies.Add to the sauted onions.Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer.Add chicken and great northern beans, stir often, simmer for 15 minutes.Blend corn starch with the cold water and add to chili to thicken.Continue to simmer until chili thickens, then remove from heat.Garnish with fresh chopped cilantro, Monterey Jack cheese, and sour cream.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
A Father's Love
I was never one of those kids who could sleep until noon. As a matter of fact, I remember vividly one Friday night when I was about 9 years old reaching over my friend Sandra who was spending the night with me to make sure my alarm clock was set for somewhere between 7 and 8 a.m. She thought I was crazy. I've continued my habit of early rising my entire life.
One of the best parts about early mornings is the quietness of the house. Growing up (and during visits from college), the only person who would beat me to greet the sun was my Dad. Often times as I would come creeping up the stairs, he'd be sitting on the couch reading his Bible or a book and drinking coffee, and if it was good and cold outside, there would be a fire in the fireplace. What a special, cozy memory. I loved these moments because I got such good quality time with my Dad. We would sit for an hour or two talking about life, God, dreams, love, books, and whatever else was going on with me in that phase of my life. I enjoyed these moments of learning from Dad's wisdom, sharing my frustrations, discussing my future so much that even on mornings when I felt like sleeping in, it was usually worth the dragging myself out of bed for the quality time.
Recently my accountability group of girlfriends and I were talking about prayer. I'll be the first to admit that I do not pray enough... I do quick prayers here and there, often praying in my car on the way to work, but it's too infrequent that I get some really good quality time with God. Generally it is because I'm just "so busy". But as we were talking about this, I was reminded of my mornings with my Dad. My desire to be with him, to learn from him, to share with him were worth the lack of sleep. I want to get to a point in my relationship with God that my desire to be in His presence is equally as important to me...even if it requires a sacrifice of my sleep, time, energy. I want to experience Him as the Father that He is.
One of the best parts about early mornings is the quietness of the house. Growing up (and during visits from college), the only person who would beat me to greet the sun was my Dad. Often times as I would come creeping up the stairs, he'd be sitting on the couch reading his Bible or a book and drinking coffee, and if it was good and cold outside, there would be a fire in the fireplace. What a special, cozy memory. I loved these moments because I got such good quality time with my Dad. We would sit for an hour or two talking about life, God, dreams, love, books, and whatever else was going on with me in that phase of my life. I enjoyed these moments of learning from Dad's wisdom, sharing my frustrations, discussing my future so much that even on mornings when I felt like sleeping in, it was usually worth the dragging myself out of bed for the quality time.
Recently my accountability group of girlfriends and I were talking about prayer. I'll be the first to admit that I do not pray enough... I do quick prayers here and there, often praying in my car on the way to work, but it's too infrequent that I get some really good quality time with God. Generally it is because I'm just "so busy". But as we were talking about this, I was reminded of my mornings with my Dad. My desire to be with him, to learn from him, to share with him were worth the lack of sleep. I want to get to a point in my relationship with God that my desire to be in His presence is equally as important to me...even if it requires a sacrifice of my sleep, time, energy. I want to experience Him as the Father that He is.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Cinnamon-Pumpkin Coffee Cake with Brown Sugar Glaze
So in keeping with this love, I thought it fitting that my first food blog be my most recent, very amazing new cinnamon recipe. Okay, so I take it back... it really was a pumpkin coffee cake recipe that I found on Pinterest. But again, in keeping with my tastebud preferences, I decided to add ground cinnamon and cinnamon chips - and it was a hit! So now, it's a pumpkin recipe, revised to be a cinnamon recipe.
Happy Fall, everyone!
⅓ cups Water
1 can Pureed Pumpkin (15 Oz)
1 bag of Hershey's cinnamon chips
2 whole Eggs
1 Tablespoon Vanilla Extract
1 teaspoon of ground Cinnamon
2 teaspoons Pumpkin Pie Spice
1 box Yellow Cake Mix (18 Ounce Box)
1 teaspoon Baking Soda
1 cup Brown Sugar, Divided
½ cups Flour
4 Tablespoons Butter, Melted
¼ cups Granulated Sugar
1 teaspoon Vanilla Extract
¼ cups Heavy Whipping Cream
Preparation Instructions
Preheat the oven to 350F.
In a large bowl mix together the water, pumpkin, eggs, 1 Tablespoon of vanilla, Cinnamon chips, 1 teaspoon of cinnamon, and pumpkin pie spice until well combined. Add the cake mix and baking soda and mix until just combined.
Grease a 9×13 pan with butter and pour batter into pan.
In a small bowl mix together 1/2 cup of brown sugar, 1/2 cup flour and melted butter. Use your fingers to sprinkle over the top of the cake. Bake at 350 for 25-30 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted comes out clean.
For the glaze, combine the other 1/2 cup brown sugar, granulated sugar, 1 teaspoon vanilla, and heavy cream in a saucepan and bring to a simmer. Remove from heat and stir until all sugar is dissolved.
When cake is finished baking, poke holes in the top with a toothpick. Pour glaze over the cake, making sure to cover all surfaces. Serve cake warm or at room temperature.
Yosemite
― Rachel Carson
Van and I are sort of addicted to traveling. We have chosen not to have a house payment or a car payment... so that all of our splurges can go towards adventures. We know this freedom may not last forever, so we are living it up while we can.
Our most recent adventure was to Yosemite National Park. Van had the opportunity to visit Yosemite a few years ago on a guys trip with his Dad and Alex, but I had not had the opportunity to visit the "jewel" of the National Parks. So, the week of our 6th anniversary, we headed to San Francisco and then onto Yosemite.
Probably the highlight of the trip, though for me, was Van's excitement. He was so excited for me to finally see his favorite National Park, he even opted out of fly fishing because it would cramp the time that I had in the park. His thrill for me was so sweet.
We had a blast. I would highly recommend a visit.
The second event
My facebook status, January 20, 2012:
“'If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, 'here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well'.' - Martin Luther King, Jr. I have always LOVED this quote, but today I met a hotel receptionist who really truly lived this quote in her job... and it made all the difference to me. I will be ever grateful for a very passionate Costa Rican named Dora who advocates for her guests as well as Michelangelo painted or Beethoven composed. :)"
I mentioned in a previous post that there were two moments in which I had "learned in the moment" and realized that I was learning in the moment as it was happening. This is the story of that second experience.
How "the moment" began:
I had traveled to Costa Rica for a Medical Spanish class, part of my CMEs for the year. Van and I were staying at the Hilton resort in Guanacaste, Costa Rica. On our last day, we had to be checked out of the room by a certain time, but I wanted to attend my last class, so we took our bags to the reception area for safe keeping while we passed the time at the beach and in class. We had 3 bags, one each with our clothing and toiletries, and then I had a small red carry on bag that had all things valuable in it, including my brand new Macbook pro lap top and all of my jewelry -- the most important of which was my black pearl ring Van had given to me for our first anniversary. We sandwiched that bag in between the other two bags, just for extra protection and left it in a designated room for bags that was situated behind the lobby counter at the Hilton.
When my class had ended (around 6 pm.), we headed up to the lobby to retrieve our bags and catch a cab to the hotel located near the airport that we would be staying in that night. When we walked into the room to get our bags, there were only 2 bags in the room - our two black bags; my carry on bag that had been sandwiched between these two was not there. Needless to say, I was furious and rather distraught. We waited at the hotel for a few hours while the management team tried to locate it, but after they could not, they informed us that we needed to go. I refused. They assured us that they would continue looking, but since several of the employees seemed ambivalent about the loss of my bag, I really didn't believe them, and so I kept refusing to leave. I tried insisting on seeing the video footage from a security camera they had in the lobby, but they wouldn't agree to it. (The next day they told me that the cameras didn't actually work (not sure if I believed this either...)). As they night wore on, I began to have no other option but to leave. It was such a helpless feeling as we drove in the taxi 45 minutes in the opposite direction of my bag. That night I barely slept. I tossed and turned, and prayed. I emailed the manager multiple times through the night explaining why I did not think they had taken me very seriously: 1. Refusing to let me look at video footage. 2. Acting as if I was overreacting. 3. Not even asking for a description of my bag. (How would they know WHAT bag to be looking for). 4. Not asking for a description of the contents in my bag. 5. Their ambivalent attitude about the whole situation.
The manager had promised that he would call me before 9 a.m. the morning after, to update me on what was being done to find the bag. When the phone call did not come, I became even more upset, feeling more resolute than ever that someone within the hotel staff had taken my bag. I decided to catch a cab back to the hotel. I went down to the reception desk at the hotel we were staying in, and began to talk to a woman by the name of Dora. I explained to her what had happened, how upset I was, and that I needed her to call a cab for me. Dora's response was not one that I had expected - she seemed to take the situation upon herself, as if it had been her bag. She was immediately upset, sympathized with me, empathized with me, and told me she would call the Hilton Resort. The relief of having someone to share my burden with made me cry. As I sat there listening to her argue in Spanish, I felt so relieved to no longer have to defend myself in this foreign country, in my second language by myself. I had an advocate. When the hotel staff at Guanacaste told her they had looked for it, and it just was gone, her response was, "I will not accept that response." She repeated it over and over, passionately insisting that they take responsibility for the bag in which they had agreed to take responsibility for when they let me leave it in their "secure" bag storage room, insisting that they find my bag. I cannot describe my gratitude. Even at that moment, feeling like more than likely my bag was lost, I felt grateful to Dora for caring.
Over the hour or two that Dora advocated me, I waited. I felt she could do more for me than me returning to the hotel... and shortly after she had made her phone call my bag was "found". The explanation was that a hotel guest had accidentally taken it to his room the night before, and not realized it until this morning. Maybe this is true, I am not sure, but I do feel that without Dora's advocacy, I would not have gotten my bag back.
The Lesson:
I was sitting on this bench in the hotel lobby near the airport, listening to Dora talk on the phone. I was thinking about how as my story had unfolded she had immediately become enraged. Whereas with the other staff at the other hotel, I had felt the need to EXPLAIN WHY I was upset, she had felt immediately an intense understanding of how upsetting this kind of situation would be. She had made my problem her problem. I thought about how most people, including myself, don't often REALLY put themselves in the position of others. How that when someone shares with me something that has upset them, how I may secretly feel that they are overreacting or that it's obviously not as bad as some upset I have experienced. I may not say that, but by my actions, I have been guilty of "not caring" enough for others'. And I don't think I'm the only one that has been guilty of this attitude. I asked myself, "Who am I to ever decide on how big or small someone's degree of hurt, distress, or pain is?"
Then, I thought about her job. Some people may not see her job as a hotel receptionist as a "meaningful" job. Some people, even Dora herself could view it as a job where she doesn't really have the OPPORTUNITY to "change the world"... and thus no reason to even try. But as I was sitting there, I realized that any job can give us the opportunity to change lives, we just have to look for it. You don't have to go to Nigeria on a medical mission to make a difference. You can make a difference just in the way you treat others. You can make a difference in the most boring, mundane things - it's all how you approach it.
Ecclesiastes 9:10 says, "Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with (all of) your might".
In Costa Rica, in the midst of a distressing moment, I met a woman named Dora, who did her job with all of her might. She advocated for her clients as well as Michelangelo painted, as well as Beethoven composed music, and as well as Shakespeare wrote poetry. Her actions changed my understanding of kindness. And in that understanding, she made me a better person. She, in her job as a hotel receptionist, changed my life. I hope that I can do the same for others. I will at least die trying.
“'If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, 'here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well'.' - Martin Luther King, Jr. I have always LOVED this quote, but today I met a hotel receptionist who really truly lived this quote in her job... and it made all the difference to me. I will be ever grateful for a very passionate Costa Rican named Dora who advocates for her guests as well as Michelangelo painted or Beethoven composed. :)"
I mentioned in a previous post that there were two moments in which I had "learned in the moment" and realized that I was learning in the moment as it was happening. This is the story of that second experience.
How "the moment" began:
I had traveled to Costa Rica for a Medical Spanish class, part of my CMEs for the year. Van and I were staying at the Hilton resort in Guanacaste, Costa Rica. On our last day, we had to be checked out of the room by a certain time, but I wanted to attend my last class, so we took our bags to the reception area for safe keeping while we passed the time at the beach and in class. We had 3 bags, one each with our clothing and toiletries, and then I had a small red carry on bag that had all things valuable in it, including my brand new Macbook pro lap top and all of my jewelry -- the most important of which was my black pearl ring Van had given to me for our first anniversary. We sandwiched that bag in between the other two bags, just for extra protection and left it in a designated room for bags that was situated behind the lobby counter at the Hilton.
When my class had ended (around 6 pm.), we headed up to the lobby to retrieve our bags and catch a cab to the hotel located near the airport that we would be staying in that night. When we walked into the room to get our bags, there were only 2 bags in the room - our two black bags; my carry on bag that had been sandwiched between these two was not there. Needless to say, I was furious and rather distraught. We waited at the hotel for a few hours while the management team tried to locate it, but after they could not, they informed us that we needed to go. I refused. They assured us that they would continue looking, but since several of the employees seemed ambivalent about the loss of my bag, I really didn't believe them, and so I kept refusing to leave. I tried insisting on seeing the video footage from a security camera they had in the lobby, but they wouldn't agree to it. (The next day they told me that the cameras didn't actually work (not sure if I believed this either...)). As they night wore on, I began to have no other option but to leave. It was such a helpless feeling as we drove in the taxi 45 minutes in the opposite direction of my bag. That night I barely slept. I tossed and turned, and prayed. I emailed the manager multiple times through the night explaining why I did not think they had taken me very seriously: 1. Refusing to let me look at video footage. 2. Acting as if I was overreacting. 3. Not even asking for a description of my bag. (How would they know WHAT bag to be looking for). 4. Not asking for a description of the contents in my bag. 5. Their ambivalent attitude about the whole situation.
The manager had promised that he would call me before 9 a.m. the morning after, to update me on what was being done to find the bag. When the phone call did not come, I became even more upset, feeling more resolute than ever that someone within the hotel staff had taken my bag. I decided to catch a cab back to the hotel. I went down to the reception desk at the hotel we were staying in, and began to talk to a woman by the name of Dora. I explained to her what had happened, how upset I was, and that I needed her to call a cab for me. Dora's response was not one that I had expected - she seemed to take the situation upon herself, as if it had been her bag. She was immediately upset, sympathized with me, empathized with me, and told me she would call the Hilton Resort. The relief of having someone to share my burden with made me cry. As I sat there listening to her argue in Spanish, I felt so relieved to no longer have to defend myself in this foreign country, in my second language by myself. I had an advocate. When the hotel staff at Guanacaste told her they had looked for it, and it just was gone, her response was, "I will not accept that response." She repeated it over and over, passionately insisting that they take responsibility for the bag in which they had agreed to take responsibility for when they let me leave it in their "secure" bag storage room, insisting that they find my bag. I cannot describe my gratitude. Even at that moment, feeling like more than likely my bag was lost, I felt grateful to Dora for caring.
Over the hour or two that Dora advocated me, I waited. I felt she could do more for me than me returning to the hotel... and shortly after she had made her phone call my bag was "found". The explanation was that a hotel guest had accidentally taken it to his room the night before, and not realized it until this morning. Maybe this is true, I am not sure, but I do feel that without Dora's advocacy, I would not have gotten my bag back.
The Lesson:
I was sitting on this bench in the hotel lobby near the airport, listening to Dora talk on the phone. I was thinking about how as my story had unfolded she had immediately become enraged. Whereas with the other staff at the other hotel, I had felt the need to EXPLAIN WHY I was upset, she had felt immediately an intense understanding of how upsetting this kind of situation would be. She had made my problem her problem. I thought about how most people, including myself, don't often REALLY put themselves in the position of others. How that when someone shares with me something that has upset them, how I may secretly feel that they are overreacting or that it's obviously not as bad as some upset I have experienced. I may not say that, but by my actions, I have been guilty of "not caring" enough for others'. And I don't think I'm the only one that has been guilty of this attitude. I asked myself, "Who am I to ever decide on how big or small someone's degree of hurt, distress, or pain is?"
Then, I thought about her job. Some people may not see her job as a hotel receptionist as a "meaningful" job. Some people, even Dora herself could view it as a job where she doesn't really have the OPPORTUNITY to "change the world"... and thus no reason to even try. But as I was sitting there, I realized that any job can give us the opportunity to change lives, we just have to look for it. You don't have to go to Nigeria on a medical mission to make a difference. You can make a difference just in the way you treat others. You can make a difference in the most boring, mundane things - it's all how you approach it.
Ecclesiastes 9:10 says, "Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with (all of) your might".
In Costa Rica, in the midst of a distressing moment, I met a woman named Dora, who did her job with all of her might. She advocated for her clients as well as Michelangelo painted, as well as Beethoven composed music, and as well as Shakespeare wrote poetry. Her actions changed my understanding of kindness. And in that understanding, she made me a better person. She, in her job as a hotel receptionist, changed my life. I hope that I can do the same for others. I will at least die trying.
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