Six Interesting Things...

Lisa tagged me to do this blog. However, as I am new(ish) or perhaps just not popular enough in the blogging world, I don't exactly have six people to tag...so I'll just fulfill my obligation to write down six interesting things about myself and leave it at that.

1. I'm an aspiring domestic goddess, but so far failing at it miserably. I read Domino magazine religiously. I regularly peruse the home offerings online at various website and compose fantasy wish lists. I daydream about elaborate dinner party menus, guest rooms and baths full of luxurious amenities, and entertaining in my fabulous, quirky, chic but comfortable home. I compose mental lists of in depth cleaning tasks to accomplish and convince myself that it will be truly enjoyable to accomplish them after work with a nice soundtrack and a glass of wine. Every now and then I make a little bit of headway...but too often I find myself doing what I'm doing tonight. I plant myself on my couch with my laptop or a magazine and try to ignore the many things I could and should be doing. I really hate to think of myself as a dirty person, but I'm realizing that in my own space I'm entirely too lazy. Hmm...New Year's resolution perhaps...

2. Next fall I'll be starting work on my third degree. Yikes! I have a Bachelor's Degree in English and a Juris Doctorate, both from Ole Miss. I've always sort of had Higher Education Administration on the brain, and even before getting my current job as a financial aid advisor I'd contemplated pursuing advanced degrees in the field. It seems a little like divine guidance then that employees of Ole Miss can take up to two classes a semester (one during business hours) free of charge. It also seems divine that with job experience in the field, a law degree can be substituted for a masters. Thus I will likely be starting my pursuit of a Ph.D. in Higher Education Administration next fall. My home may not look as impressive as I'd like, but my office wall sure will!

3. My boyfriend is six years younger than I am. Yeah. I'm not particularly over-enthused about sharing this one, but I know it is indeed an interesting fact about me. I'd always thought of myself as someone who required an older guy for things to work. Instead I'm discovering that I am significantly less emotionally mature than my 23 year old fella. He definitely arrived on the scene as something great when I least expected it...but also something entirely different than what I anticipated expecting. Hah.

4. I'm a collection of stereotypes. During the course of my life I've been a goody goody, a nerd, a jockette, a prep, a sorority girl, a hipster, and a professional. Do I necessarily feel that I've REALLY been these people? Not exactly. But I do know that I've participated willingly in things that have led others to think that I've been one or more of them. Church camps, honors colleges, basketball teams, the Greek system, indie music shows, and now webinars and seminars and staff meetings. You have to wonder if we all wind up as rag tag collections of all the things we've been and are...

5. I have a scarf addiction. If the weather and the situation in ANY way permit it, I'll find a way to incorporate a scarf into my outfit. It's gotten to the point where I literally just feel more natural while wearing one.

6. The above fact might make more sense when one considers how ridiculously cold natured I am. I spend the majority of the winter with cold feet and a cold nose. Meh.

Dear Santa...Part Two.

4. Little Birch Jewelry Stand. I currently have jewelry tangled in every available nook and cranny, so finding and carefully untangling that one particular necklace can sometimes turn into an extended exercise in patience. This stand would look artistic and graceful on a dresser or bathroom vanity even without jewelry, but I think it would be delightfully quirky, bohemian, and, gasp, FUNCTIONAL dripping with all of my necklaces and bracelets.

5. Bodum Chambord French Press. I gave my Mom one for Christmas last year, and while it doesn't come out for use on a weekly basis, it always feels a little luxurious when it does. French press coffee just tastes richer. Maybe it's just the fact that using one reminds me of dinners at Yocona...oh, and at last weekend's freezing Ole Miss/ULM game, we discovered that toting a French Press, an electric burner, and a tea kettle to the Grove makes a steaming hot cup of coffee and Bailey's a perfect and surprisingly easy game day drink.

6. Domino Magazine. I'm addicted. Pure and simple. More great home ideas and products than you can shake a stick at. Giving a magazine subscription seems like something of a dud gift at first, but getting something in the mail each month for a year that provides you with a few minutes of relaxed entertainment before bed is a truly great thing. And while you're on the Domino website, check out the super cool online Deco File tool.

More to come...

Dear Santa...Part One.

I've been thinking about Christmas gifts...about past gifts given that were raging successes, about the perfect thing for Mom, Dad, boyfriend, family, friends and beyond, and maaaaybe a little about a few things I'm drooling over for myself. I thought I'd share a mix of them...

1. WoodWick Candles. When you're stranded in a bland little musty apartment in the winter sans fireplace, these babies are perfect. The scents are nice, but the flat wooden wick that creates that familiar crackling, popping fireplace noise is genius. Dim the lights, grab a good book and a blanket, and let one of these create some perfect substitute cold-night-in ambience.

2. The University of Mississippi: A Pictorial History. I flipped through a few pages while on a coffee run at the campus bookstore the other day and was pretty pleased with what I saw. This new book is a hodge podge of photographs and other memorabilia from throughout the years, and would make the perfect coffee table volume for idle flipping/declaration of school spirit.

3. Victoria's Secret Flannel Pajamas. At six feet tall, I have a pretty darned hard time finding comfy pajama pants that will cover my ankles AND make me look cute. I have to admit that this pair from Victoria's Secret is my go-to, and this season the array of prints is thankfully a little more grown-up and chic. Plus, around the holidays you can usually get a matching pair of slippers tossed in for free.

To be continued...

Vive le procrastination...

Some things I should be doing on this Sunday evening:

1. Cleaning my kitchen.
2. Pouring half of the massive amount of leftover tamale soup into freezer bags to save for later.
3. Figuring out what in the heck is wrong with my car THIS time and praying it fixes itself.
4. Laundry laundry laundry.
5. Taking a shower.
6. Brushing Charlie.
7. Organizing bills and statements.
8. Dusting.

Instead I'm on my couch, drinking the last of the vino from the weekend and watching reruns of America's Next Top model. It just seems like a good way to wrap a weekend of freezing cold football.

a farewell to the one truly great thing about my new apartment...

So we've established that mid September is most definitely NOT the ideal time of year to be searching for a place to rent in Oxford, Mississippi. Given my limited budget and tight time frame, I felt lucky to find a place period, even if it was in an apartment complex I've always regarded as being thoroughly unremarkable. There was one little thing that cheered me up about the place...the fact that along the wall beside my front door were three wild and lovely abelia bushes, always alive with butterflies. To be fair, I didn't know exactly WHAT they were until I clarified it with my good friend Lisa over at Shower Fresh Garden. When Lisa saw these bushes however, she made her jealousy perfectly clear...and if Lisa is jealous of your plants, then you have some seriously great plants. She informed me that it was nice to see my abelias looking the way they're supposed to, as in the aforementioned wild and lovely. I'm fairly certain that she advised that the worst thing to do was to cut them back...so imagine my horror when I arrived home for lunch today to find my bushes hacked into sad, low squares, with more stick showing than leaf or flower.

OK, so I know that technically they aren't MY bushes, and that in all likelihood, I'll be moving on to a (hopefully) more fitting Oxford location in July. Still, I feel like my otherwise boring little place has lost the one thing that gave it instant character. And I'm definitely making a mental note to plant some abelia bushes at my next place...

your attention please...

I have a new job! Monday will be my first day as a financial aid advisor at Ole Miss. I'm beyond thrilled to be moving back to Oxford...funny how a town I'd only visited a couple of times before I turned 18 has so completely made itself my hometown. It's certainly not as if I haven't made frequent visits in the past two years, but there are still so many things I look forward to having nearby...burgers from Handy Andy, quiet time on the balcony at Square Books, Thacker Mountain Radio, lazy browsing at the Mustard Seed...

Now if I can just find a roof to cover mine and Charlie's heads...could there BE a worse time to be house/apartment hunting in a college town? I'm having a hell of a time. It doesn't help that I'm a lightish sleeper and don't do well with next door keggers on work nights. Yeah. My 18-year-old self would be staring at me with baffled disapproval right now.

10 things I can't live without...

I'm copying Lindsey's Lingerings a little here, and also creating a more cohesive list of something I've already started. Can't help it. Reading Lindsey's was so interesting...I really think asking someone a question like this gives you an amazingly thorough glimpse into the person they are. So here goes...

1. Smith's Rosebud Salve. I've already posted about my obsession with this stuff, so I won't go into it. See below if you're interested.

2. Fancy underthings. Even when there was no one around to see them, I literally couldn't stop myself from purchasing nice lingerie. Nothing ridiculously trashy or anything, just things a little nicer than your average cotton pair. The standard argument is that wearing nicer underthings makes you feel nicer in general, and I have to agree whole-heartedly. Even if I'm just in jeans and a tee shirt, I feel a little more fashionable, a little more adult, a little more TOGETHER if I know there's something matching and nice underneath. And now that there's a fella around, I think he probably appreciates my splurging on lingerie more than if I were splurging on face masks or something.

3. Concealer. (Preach it, Lindsey!) I definitely inherited my Dad's dark circles. Mine have been the bane of my existence for years now. Even when my skin is clear, I still have never been able to walk out of the door bare faced lest I scare small children. It's a pain. I constantly bounce from brand to brand, trying every formula and expense bracket imaginable. Looks like, based on recent things I've heard from friends, that next I'll be trying Vincent Longo and Bobbi Brown.

4. Coffee. If I don't have a cup in my hands within half an hour of waking up, my day goes nowhere good. But aside from the whole morning headache avoidance necessity cup, there really is just something so mentally and emotionally soothing about the perfect cup of coffee. I recently read that having a good cup of coffee can serve as a mood booster. I definitely find this to be the case. Before I left the job that was making me miserable (more on that later) one of the things that got me through the day was a latte delivery from my honey or the chance to slip away for half an hour to meet him at Rivertown (our favorite local coffee shop) for a cup. When I was studying for the bar exam a couple of years ago, I found that I was miraculously more focused, productive, and cheerful about the whole thing when I had a cup in one hand. And for years and years, one of my oldest friends and I have scheduled late morning "meetings" when we're both in town to catch up over a cup of coffee at one of our houses. I suppose I associate the drink with good friendships, support, etc.

5. Charlie the Indoor Pony. Speaking of emotional support...yes, I would definitely be lost without my crazy Airedale terrier/son. Charlie has supported me through law school, job searches, bad jobs, heartache, you name it. He always knows when I'm not doing so hot and comes straight over to rest his furry head in my lap. With Lindsey here yet again...having a pet is a mental health MUST. Not to mention, studies now prove that children who grow up in homes with furry pets are significantly less prone to developing allergies.

6. Fitted blazers and jackets. I miss them all summer long, and when fall and winter roll around, my go-to outfit always involves a blazer or jacket. They're just the perfect solution...they cover what needs to be covered while still creating a slim silhouette, they take casual jeans and a top to a slightly dressier level, and they make for a perfect layer to shed when necessary in overheated indoor climates. I have a black skinny wale corduroy blazer that I would seriously cry over if I misplaced it. Seriously.

7. My Mac products. Yes, I'm THAT girl. Addicted. I have an older iBook G4 that certainly isn't the newest snazziest model (far from it) but it still is a dependable part of my everyday life. I have an iPod mini in green that needs a new battery but that I still refuse to sell or dispose of, in spite of the fact that last Christmas I got an iPod classic, which now serves as the perfect portable road trip playlist, dance party soundtrack, and work out accessory (if I ever get back to working out, that is). And now I have a first generation iPhone that I got on the cheap from my (also Mac addict) father when he just haaaad to get the iPhone 3G. I'd convinced myself that I did NOT need one. Now I find that I use it constantly, and rarely just to chat. My most addictive features as of late? Tetris to play when I'm waiting somewhere without alternate entertainment, Shazaam (which, dangerously, can listen to a song you're hearing on the radio, tv, etc. and search it and give you the artist, song....AND link you to the iTunes page to purchase it...), Weatherbug to let me know precisely what the Grove will be like...

8. Nars Laguna Bronzer. I'm pale. Scary pale, and since I refuse to tan my face in the hopes that I'll look ten years younger than everyone who did in a few decades, I have to have something to match my face to the slight tan I develop on my arms and (sometimes) on my legs. This bronzer is perfectly portable, makes my skin glow, and gives me the perfect shot of natural color without looking like I've been baking in a tanning bed. I use it everyday, all year.

9. Sunglasses and/or scarves. If I don't have at least one of these on my body, I don't feel normal. Who knows why.

10. My faith. I'm not a regular church-goer, and I'm certainly not the strictest Christian you've ever met. But I deeply believe that God works in my life and pushes me gently in the direction I'm supposed to go. Without that belief, frankly nothing would make sense.

Big House Pink

Better late than never...I believe I promised I'd touch base when I got around to trying out the Big House Pink, and finally I have. A few weeks ago, but still.

Let me reiterate that I am NOT a wine expert, and this being the case, I have to admit that, even knowing a bit about rose, I just assumed that the Big House Pink would be sweet. And there IS just a little bit of sweetness on the backside of it, but "sugary" would in no way be an accurate description. It was just highly crisp and fresh and tart. Of the three I'd have to say it's not my favorite, but in hot steamy summer months, it will occasionally hit the spot.

Now, when I get a chance, remind me to fill you in on Michelob Ultra's Raspberry Pomegranate Beer. No, I'm not kidding.

Quick and Tasty Artichoke Dip

For the 4th of July lake party I'll be attending tomorrow I'm making an artichoke dip that is my absolute standby when I need something easy to throw together that will still be delicious and appreciated. I usually serve it with Wheat Thins. Here's the recipe:

Ingredients
1 regular can artichoke hearts, drained and chopped
1 small can water chestnuts, drained and chopped
1 cup mayo
1 packet dry Ranch dressing mix

Just mix it all up, put in the fridge for a couple of hours to marinate and chill, then serve!

Hope everyone has a fabulous 4th. I'll be starting off with our prized family chicken stew recipe at my Grampa's house, then heading over in the pontoon boat to a family friend's house with a stunning view of Wilson Lake, and a super nice collection of both shady and sunny decks, patios and piers to choose from for lounging and swilling Corona and boat drinks. Looking forward to the day IMMENSELY. Yay for the 4th!

This is what I'm wearing today.

I'm fairly certain that Jo Malone Vetyver cologne is intended for men, but so what. The first time I got a sniff I was in New Orleans wasting away a wonderful Saturday afternoon with friends by wandering around Saks Fifth Avenue and dream shopping. I love how the Jo Malone fragrances are displayed in stores (and previously online as an interactive menu, though I was irked that as of late this is no longer so) as a semicircle spectrum grouped by category, with the florals blending into the citrus, etc. There's something about it that makes for a great learning experience in terms of discovering what it is about certain scents that appeals to you. I was looking for something of a Statement Scent, a night out type of thing that would in no way be mistaken for my shampoo, baby powder, etc. I thought I wanted a heady floral, and wound up with Vetyver instead. The website touts it as "a modern interpretation of a spicy, aromatic classic. Vetiver, the legendary scent of India, is blended with sweet orange, nutmeg and tarragon to create this powerful, mysterious fragrance."

And it IS powerful. Be prepared. It's definitely not one of those scents that will smell lovely but blend in with those of other females around you. The website Now Smell This (a must for perfume lovers) seems to have only one complaint regarding most of the Jo Malone scents, which would be staying power. It IS a cologne, anyway. However, the first time I wore it around my fella he commented on how great I smelled AFTER dinner and an evening out at the bar, and actually gave a pretty accurate description that DIDN'T involve cigarette smoke. So as far as I'm concerned, that alone makes it a winner.

As for wearing it to work...I'll let you know.

I Can't Go Without...

Smith's Rosebud Salve. This stuff is one of my favorite things. To the point that it's one of those few things I find myself doing a mental check on as I leave the house for a trip. "OK, I packed my contact case...glasses...underwear...Smith's Rosebud Salve..."

I mainly use it as lip balm, but the company isn't lying when they boast about how multi-functional it is. I've found that it's great for softening cuticles, and the scent is so soft and pretty that I've been known to dab a little bit at my neck and behind my ears in a pinch when I need a little perfume. I doubt it has lasting power in that capacity, but why not. And one tin lasts FOREVER...supposedly it's also great for diaper rash. Guess I'll have to have my sister test it out...

10 Essential Websites, according to Time Magazine

Check out the following linked story...I for one can attest that Facebook, Wikipedia, and ESPN are sites I have definitely never gone more than a week without visiting...if that...

Necessity Rules-10 Essential Sites

Guilty Pleasure Television Shows...

In honor of the beginning of the third season of So You Think You Can Dance, the following is a listing of my personal guilty pleasure TV shows. Are there any that might constitute legitimate, OK-to-admit-that-I-love programs? Let me know.

1. Gossip Girl. I once told a friend that I only watch this show for the clothes and the accessories. And that is...mostly true. Maybe.

2. The Hills. Same as above. Except that, in all honesty, the clothes and accessories usually aren't that great. And, as with most people (I hope) Spencer and Heidi make me break out in hives. I try not to think about the fact that I'm 28 and am entertained by rich spoiled idiot brats whose dialogue is about as fresh and witty as your average telemarketer phone call. OK, the more I write, the more I wonder why exactly I watch this show period...and yes, I am perfectly aware that it isn't REALLY a reality show.

3. What Not To Wear. This one I think at least BORDERS on being legit. Some people have told me they find Stacy and Clinton to be mean, but (perhaps indicating that I am mean as well) I think they're hilarious. Come on, they just say what we're all thinking anyway. I've also been told that they try to turn everyone into the same preppy hip mommy, but in the past couple of seasons I've noticed that the end results have become much more varied depending on personality, lifestyle, etc.

4. So You Think You Can Dance. Come on, people. This show is GREAT. Better than stupid Dancing With The Stars, which features a cheesy band covering J Lo songs and lower grade celebrities who can't really dance and have no business doing so.

So have I lost your respect now?

White Wine Season.

I'm not a wine expert. In fact, I know virtually nothing about them other than the names of the varieties, their colors, and their respective standard flavors. I can tell you what I like and what I don't like, but all of it is based entirely on whether I truly enjoy sitting around and drinking it. There's no rhyme or reason, no explanation behind it...just that most basic gut reaction that indicates to me whether or not my tastebuds approve. Here's what I do know. During the winter months I tend to almost exclusively drink red wine, pinot noir for the most part, and during the warmer months I'm always excited to shift into drinking primarily sauvignon blanc. It's just so light and refreshing...usually with a great citrus kick. However, since I often find myself in stores with limited options (and sometimes find myself with limited funds), over the years I've found various blends and table wines that always do the trick. Much less embarrassing to show up at a dinner party with these than with a jug of Carlo Rossi, and infinitely more enjoyable to drink.



The Big House Red has been a longtime favorite of mine, since I first developed a taste for reds, in fact...this could be because it was the house red upstairs at City Grocery in Oxford, my second home. And, because I'm girly, I have to throw in the fact that it has a great label...hip but not stuffy or pretentious. Not that it would be pretentious, since it's a great $10 a bottle. It's also fruity (not in a sweet way, of course, but a tart cherry way), just spicy enough, and still smooth and drinkeable.

I introduced this wine to my fella shortly after we began dating when we found ourselves one night wandering up and down the aisles of a local package store, with little to no knowledge of what the other would and would not drink, looking for an appropriate bottle to suggest. When I spotted a lone bottle of Big House Red tucked away at the end of the aisle I gladly lunged for it. As aforementioned, it fit the bill perfectly, allowing me to avoid all the standard obstacles one faces when trying to impress a boy who is about to purchase a bottle of wine that you've suggested. It wasn't exorbitantly expensive, but while it DOES have a screw top, it didn't resemble a bottle of Boone's Farm either. It didn't look dull and stuffy. And since it was a blend (Carignane, Sangiovese and Charbono, in case you care), I didn't run the risk of getting a tepid response like "Oh...so you drink Pinot, huh?" He bought it. He loved it. He's now a regular purchaser.

But then spring came, which in Alabama lasts two weeks at best before hot, sticky summer sets in. I was over red wine. The next time we were at what by now has become "our" package store, I wasn't so thrilled when he immediately and casually swooped up yet another bottle. But then I spotted, thrill of all thrills, one single bottle of Big House WHITE just beside it. I bought. I drank. I was immediately pretty ok with the fact that my significant other preferred to stick to his own bottle instead of horning in on mine. I'm now a regular purchaser. All my (limited) research will turn up is that it is a blend of "at least nine varieties." But the web site's description of "a riot of citrus, flowers and peach" is right on target.

A couple of weeks ago I was flipping through a Real Simple article and spotted a page of wine suggestions which included the Big House Pink, a rose. Having (for the most part) gotten over my crippling fear of drinking anything which might look to the uninformed observer like a glass of white zinfandel, I immediately asked my nice package store owner if he'd order a bottle or two for a taste test. I'll keep you posted...

A few thoughts on dry shampoo...

I was never the kind of girl who didn't wash my hair. In high school, in fact, I washed it every single night, then rose early enough in the morning to painstakingly spray and curl every strand with a scalding hot curling iron. Naturally, this daily ritual fell apart when I got to college. At some point during this hazy period of late nights followed by classes attended with greasy hair smelling faintly of the odd combo of Febreeze and bar smoke, I was introduced to the baby powder trick. Just sprinkle a tiny amount on your scalp around your part, tousle your hair, shake out the excess, pull hair into ponytail and go. The amount bit was tricky with my dark hair...too much and I looked like I'd made a lame attempt at looking like Cruella DeVille. However, it worked well enough to chase away any concerns that I'd receive looks of disgust from everyone I passed.

Flash forward to the present day, wherein I have a full time job with a little extra money to burn and what could safely be called a nasty Sephora.com habit (free shipping for orders over $50! Three free sample with every order!). As I was perusing the hair products I noticed a tab labeled "dry shampoo." Now, I work from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. or later every week day. My drive to work takes 10-15 minutes. I am not a morning person, for the most part. I think I COULD be, but that's a different story. Bottom line, I abhor waking up early enough to wash, dry, and style my hair. So when I saw the smattering of dry shampoo products I seized upon them.



For my first try I went with the Oscar Blandi Pronto Dry Shampoo Spray. Initially I was concerned that the scent would be too overpowering...and it IS pretty lemon-citrusy smelling, but overall nothing strong enough to clash with a perfume or make you smell like a house cleaning product. And it WORKED. A nice misting at the roots, a good tousle, and voila, hair that looked as though I'd JUST put down the blow dryer and curling iron. I was obsessed. I also drained the can within two weeks. Pretty sure it should last longer than that at $21 for 3.2 ounces. Right?



So with that thought in mind, I decided to try the Ojon Rub-Out Dry Cleanser. $24, but 4.5 ounces. At first I didn't like it as well. Then I followed the instructions clearly indicated in the name. No one said I was the brightest crayon in the box. So as opposed to Blandi's tousle and shake and go procedure, Ojon requires you to spray the product onto your roots, rub it in with your fingers, and then brush out any excess. Initially this seemed to work. Plus, the smell was a little more up my alley: soft, powdery and unobtrusive. However, after using it a few times I realized that I had to be pretty careful when it came to getting the excess out...I think the rubbing procedure has a way of flaking off the product somehow, so that if you aren't cautiously observant you might walk out the door with what appears to be a mild case of dandruff. Not good. Plus, again, I went through the product entirely too quickly for my taste.




So what, am I a dirty hippie, you ask? Well, I admittedly found the products a little TOO effective, using both at least three times a week...maybe more. I decided to spend a few weeks without before ordering yet again...and then I happened upon a new product, Frederic Fekkai's Summer Hair Wash & Wear. The packaging was orange and rich looking and hip and fabulous. I knew that being a Fekkai product the scent would undoubtedly be divine. I also assumed that it would WORK. So I ordered it. Granted, I was a little confused as to how a spray, as opposed to a dry powder mist, would, as the product description states, "refresh limp or overworked locks without water." This seemed to be in direct contradiction to the name, Wash & Wear, which seems to assume the use of water. Was it a shampoo alternative or not? The directions instructed me to spray sparingly onto my roots and then brush and restyle. So I sprayed. I brushed. And I was horrified when my hair looked greasier than it had before. A couple of days later I tried again, only to get the same result. So now I'm left with a nearly full bottle and no intention of using it on the mornings where I just haven't bothered to wash my hair. Thankfully, I was dead on regarding the scent...it's lush and summery with a hint of coconut and just generally delicious. I think I'll spritz some on for days when I'm out on the boat with wet hair pulled up...especially since the product boasts UV protection.

In the meantime...a couple of mornings ago, as I stood dejectedly in front of the mirror staring at my slightly greasy hair with the realization that I had nowhere near enough time to wash it, my eyes drifted down to the large container of baby powder I've had literally for YEARS on my countertop. I picked it up, deposited a bit at the roots, leaned over and tousled, brushed, and pulled my hair back. It looked...decent. Not great. But decent. Looks like I'll be holding off on any further orders for the foreseeable future...

Prime: A Review

This isn't exactly a story, but you WILL in the future find many restaurant stories here. So on that note, I just thought I'd share a few thoughts on my recent first dining experience at Prime, Oxford, Mississippi's newest hot spot.

I should first note that I might be just a BIT biased. Both head chef Crash Hethcox and Assistant Manager Terry Moon are former coworkers of mine, and Assistant Manager and Events Coordinator Michelle Rounsaville is one of my sorority sisters...so obviously I very much walked in wanting to love the place.

Thankfully, I wasn't let down. The atmosphere is warm and inviting, and enveloping without feeling claustrophobic. Nothing too hip or too cliched, but definitely posh and celebratory. I especially enjoyed the music...an upbeat mix of jazz standards from Ella, Louis, etc. Something about those songs always makes me feel chic. Good acoustics are always a selling point for me, and Prime has them. My party of five was seated at a round center table surrounded by other diners, but in spite of the music and the packed house, I never had to strain to hear the members of my party seated across from me, which is one situation that always puts a damper on any festive dining experience. The wine list looked great, and there was a pretty extensive specialty martini list, which is always fun. Possibly the only truly negative thing I have to say about the entire experience is that the straight up, very slightly dirty martini i ordered arrived VERY dirty and almost too salty to drink. Coming from a restaurant background, however, I know that this could easily be chalked up to the restaurant being a mere two weeks old and the night clearly being an insanely busy one. It's quite possible also that the waitress just missed my emphasis on the "slightly" part of dirty, but in every other respect, the service was informed, attentive, friendly, and not too pushy.

Now for the food. We ordered a side of the truffle fritte to start, which is comprised of house fries sprinkled with parmesan, asiago, parsley, and truffle oil. They arrived in a metal pedestal cone with wax paper...a very cute presentation I thought. Beware of these...they'll sneak up on you! The first bite was just so-so, but then they began to taste dramatically better and I eventually found myself picking stray bits from the bottom of the cone.

For dinner I ordered the pork chop with a side of the truffled mac and cheese. Important note about the sides: unless you're absolutely starving, don't order one for yourself alone, as the portions are quite large. My party wound up passing the sides around family style, which worked well. However, I'm afraid I was a little stingy with my mac and cheese. This side is sort of like a couture version of shells and cheese...just replace that orange powdery velveeta with mascarpone, parmesan, asiago and orecchiette truffle cream. Simply divine. The pork chop wasn't my favorite, but that's simply because I tend to like a little more going on with my food. I'd order it again, as it was a great portion and cooked perfectly, but I'd probably try pairing it with one of the excellent sauce offerings, like the bleu cheese with shallot butter. At any rate, it's nice to have the option of a non-fussy but well-cooked piece of meat. I managed to sneak a taste of the parmesean black grouper as well, and it's also possible that I'm not raving about the pork chop simply because I liked the grouper so much that I wished I'd ordered it instead.

In spite of being very well fed already, we just had to test a few of the desserts...specifically, the key lime cheesecake, "s'mores," and triple-chocolate fudge pie. All three were very good, though the fudge pie (or at least the bite that I had) had more of a cakey texture. The "s'mores" is actually a martini glass full of peanut butter chocolate mousse covered with a layer of toasted homemade marshmallow with a homemade graham cracker. It was by far my favorite...perfect texture, perfect rich flavor, not too sugary, with that wonderful toasted marshmallow flavor and texture to boot.

All in all, dinner at Prime made for a perfectly yummy, cozy way to spend an otherwise cold and icy night. I can't wait to try lunch! And Crash and Terry inform me that in the future they'll be serving Sunday brunch as well, complete with omelette and waffle stations. Those boys definitely know the way to get a girl all hot and bothered...when that Sunday comes, I'll be first in line.

Family Names

My younger sister is having a baby. The final chosen name (so far, anyway) is Isabella. Not the favorite of the family, but infinitely more approved than the initial choice of Zoe. It seemed that after a few months of weekly baby-name-changing, a certain peaceful stability had finally settled in. However, after a recent Sunday visit, it would appear that this is not the case for my Nana.

Nana's stories, as those of most older Southern ladies, are typically so convoluted and overly detailed in irrelevant places that you have to wonder if she's actually spent hours crafting a brilliantly complex brain teaser of the Whodunit variety, as opposed to just genuinely considering it necessary that her listener comprehend what her distant family relation had just purchased when she ran into her at the mall. The mere act of acquainting us with the fact that this woman was in some way the progeny of my long deceased Great Aunt Dean took five minutes alone.

It was this distant family relation (fourth cousin? Fifth?) who delivered the havoc-inducing news to my Nana that her son and daughter-in-law intended to name their unborn little girl, of all things, ISABELLA. This news was delivered to my parents and myself in a tone that implied we were expected to gasp in horror, and to question her as to what we were going to DO about the fact that these family members that we see precisely...NEVER...have the audacity to select the same currently popular baby name that my sister chose. Instead we looked at her in confusion. After a long pause, wherein our silence was clearly interpreted as shocked distress, she continued with "but don't worry...the full name is Isabella Claire, and they say they'll call her Clarabelle."

Another long pause. Finally my mother hesitantly asked, "...Clarabelle?"

"Oh, you know how they do that in Dean's part of the family," Nana explained breathlessly. "They've got a Lelabelle, another Clarabelle, and you know Dean's REAL name was Zenabelle, and..."

If there were more specific examples after that I didn't register them. And based on the open mouthed expressions of amused awe and delight on the faces of my parents, they were too busy digesting the same fact that I was...that I have a rather close family member, whom I'd always known as Aunt Dean, whose real name to me, if you went by what her birth certificate stated anyway, was actually Aunt Zenabelle.

"Zenabelle?" asked my mom. My dad's face had settled into a contended goofy grin. "Yes, Zenabelle, you know." responded my Nana, as if this piece of information was common family knowledge and that therefore she was mildly irritated with us for holding up the more important points of the story over it.

"...how did they get DEAN?" As the in-law in the room, my mother was apparently the only one bold enough to ask these questions.

"Well honey she changed her name as soon as she turned sixteen, of course....anyway, I asked where Ronnie Dell was and she said he was at home with the other grand-baby, that one their son had with that other girl, the one they're having all that...what's that word, paternity nonsense with...and she told me that SHE doesn't see any need for any paternity test, that the other day that little girl picked up that little dog of theirs and threw it over the upstairs landing, and she and Ronnie Dell said they knew right then that that child was a Graves and that was all there was to it."

It took another five minutes or so to coax the information concerning the fate of "that little dog of theirs" out of my Nana. It landed on the couch, apparently, and is just fine, should you care.