On Day 143, I went to a birthday bowling party---for a 23 year old. It was really quite a divine idea, because what's better than free-flowing beer, friendly competition on a not-so-serious game, cosmic lighting and club music without the pretense of dancing? Nada.
Anyhoo, some little birdie had told a select few of these people that I was doing one New Thing every day for a year and wanted to know what my New Thing for that day was.
Frankly, with all of the significant New Things I've happened upon recently (taking a red eye flight, partying at a Hard Rock, etc.), I haven't been super proactive about planning for New Things or crossing them off my list.
I almost shamefully told them I hadn't had anything planned.
No need to lie.
But then, the most magical thing happened; they gave me suggestions!
"Use the heaviest ball you can find!"
"Granny bowl a game and see if it improves your score!"
"Make up a signature bowl!"
So I did all three!!! I used a 15 pound bowling ball, Granny bowled a couple frames and got a spare, and make up the Leah bowl, a spinning, twisting, leg in the air behind me thing that landed my ball squarely in the gutter. I wish I had video for the last one, but I was being "cool" and it was a completely unreplicable after the first shot anyway. You had to be there.
I should tell people about this project more often!
After my ever-so-pathetic blog post on baking cookies for the holidays, it should come as no surprise that Mark and my family gave me bake ware...and lots of it :) Who needs to have a wedding to get great kitchen items? Just being young and complaining a little gets the job done.
Anyhoo, today presented an opportunity to use my new gifts. It was Mark's birthday and I decided that there was no better time to break in my mixer, measuring items and bake pans. His favorite cake is a carrot cake, so I used another gift--the Better Homes and Gardens cookbook to make him the "Best-Ever Carrot Cake." With a name like that, it's got to be good.
I say this shamefully, but I'm not sure that I've ever baked a cake before--and if I have, certainly not one from scratch. I'm a big cookie and brownie girl, but I can't remember a cake off the top of my head. I've made some with my parents and grandparents all along, but not just for the heck of it.
So yes, today I baked a cake, a birthday cake and a carrot cake--three New Things rolled into one, and a master use of Christmas presents.
The day started out simply enough with a birthday brunch at Rosebud for Mark's sister, Stephanie.
Rosebud, located in the Highlands, is notorious on the Atlanta food scene for outstanding Southern brunches and fried chicken, among it's otherwise All-American fare. Paired with a warm-in-the-sunshine, cool-in-the-shade November day, it was an experience to be blogged about.
After wading through a brunch menu packed with dishes that made me think "I can't miss this one!", that included the likes of crab cakes benedict, brioche french toast and sausage omelets, I settled on the ultimate celebration of Rosebud's forte--Gordo's Breakfast. Gordo's is a generous fried chicken breast on top of a biscuit, topped with a fried egg and covered in white gravy. I ordered it with a side of grits because buttery bad-for-you grits are the most wonderful treats in the world and I will never be swayed to believe otherwise.
My girlish figure gone in a single meal--but blissfully.
The chicken was most certainly worthy of a write-up. I can't describe how much better the breading was compared to other fried chicken breadings but to say that it was a little thicker breading than most, crispy and crunchy, salty to perfection and not at all oily. It stuck to the oh-so-tender chicken without breaking up. And the breading to chicken ratio was the stuff of gods.
The grits knocked me backwards with homemade, chunky, buttery beauty and left me changed.
Other than being underwhelmed by the biscuits, it was a perfect birthday celebration, and now I can say that I have brunched and eaten and fried chicken at Rosebud, and it lived up to the hype.
Our next birthday celebration was for Joe, one of Mark's old fraternity brothers. It was a celebration tripled up with a housewarming party for Joe and his new fiancee, Jamie, as well as the Auburn-UGA football game.
The football game was awful, but the party guests were fun, so after the game that needs no description, we moved to Twisted Taco for food and margaritas.
I wasn't in much of a drinking mood, feeling bad about all of my food transgressions earlier in the day, so when everyone was sufficiently looser, I was feeling a little more uptight. All that changed, however, when I got an invite out to the dance floor.
Yes, that's right. I just said that I was invited to the dance floor in a Twisted Taco. Please tell me that I'm not the only person who didn't know that Twisted Taco turns into a suburban "night club" after 9:00 PM.
This was the scene...seriously...
Whether it was the pinnacle of lame or the raddest form of awesome, I'll never decide, but our whole group was out dancing and having a blast. The DJ was playing great music and people trickled on to the dance floor and stayed there. I started a train, fist-pumped, A-town stomped, cha-cha slid, cupid shuffled and generally danced my butt off with our big birthday party of friends at Twisted Taco.
After a while, I took a breather at our table. Mark was slightly disappointed that I wasn't dancing with him and playfully threatened to get another lady out on the dance floor. I let him do it because the only women in this place were cougars and it was bound to be a good show.
I watched in demented delight as Mark went cougar hunting around the TT and brought out ladies onto the floor. He told me later what his pickup line was, "Hey, do you have a husband? Would he hate to see you dancing with me?"
I die.
So that ended up being a new thing too, I watched Mark hit on cougars in front of me, but all in good fun.
It doesn't matter where you get your appetite, as long as you eat at home.
