The (shutter)bug

It's almost inevitable. When you enter the world of blogging, you will end up catching a certain bug. At the beginning, you won't notice too much, but it will increasingly creep up on you. Reveal your own shortcomings, and make you try to improve thyself.

The one of beautiful photography.

There are so many talented people out there, whose pictures (whether of kids, weddings, travels, food, design, you name it) elevate their posts and take it to the next level. The quality of the pictures is what really separates the pros from the amateurs, regardless of the writing.

And you know, I suck. I think I have an OK eye, and I'm becoming more and more aware of what it takes to snap a good pic. But I have zero technical knowledge, and a great deal of intimidation towards this universe. M has a good camera and takes nice pictures; in fact, if you see good pictures on this blog, it means I didn't take them. I don't care that much for a lot of things: I'm definitely willing to sacrifice a little quality sometimes for the crazy convenience of my iPhone camera (take out, snap, post). But I'm not fooling myself one minute about it. And there were so many times where being a bad photographer ended up costing me big time. Missed opportunities with the kids, food creations, important moments like family gatherings. Not to mention that even though I've created a lot of really beautiful flower arrangements, most of them simply don't exist because I don't have proper pictures to show for it. This is kind of inexcusable.

But it's never too late to try... And that is why today, I'm starting a photography class that should be really fun. It's a mommy-and-me type thing: moms on mat leave bring their camera and their baby, and the course is relaxed and adapted to having them around. The teacher will help each one make proper use of their camera, and give them various tips and pointers, using the babies as models. In a couple of weeks, there will even be one more official "studio shoot", where I will bring LP too. I can't wait to show you the results!

The real life princess

M and I have always been pretty serious Britophiles. I think Kate Middleton is stunning, smart, and a great role model. No doubt she is absolutely fit for the role. I'm rooting for them, wish them the best and think they have a great chance of making it -they seem real enough. There's something kind of irresistible about a prince falling for a girl "from the people"; yes I know Diana wasn't royalty per say, but she still had a nobility background and rather privileged upbringing.

But when people called her Waitie Katie, in the back of my mind I couldn't help thinking that it's not commitment issues that prevented Prince William from proposing to her for so long, but rather fear and dreading of exactly what is happening nowadays: the turning of this event into 1- a spectacle, 2- a media circus, and 3- a merchandising farce (the re-recycling of Elton John's Candle in the Wind, really?). Especially when we know how it turned out for the woman who first wore that beautiful, slightly understated sapphire ring.

I just think that all this craziness is putting a lot of negative pressure on the event, and will end up playing against them in the marriage. As stupid as it probably sounds, I kind of feel sorry for the girl, and the fact that she is not allowed to have a "normal" wedding (even if on a grand scale). Makes me reflect on all of these brides-to-be who want nothing more than "to be a princess" on their big day. Funny, but to me, it's the word nightmare that comes to mind, instead of fairytale.

Beloved California

On March 18, while driving on the mythical Pacific Coast Highway, we were momentarily halted by some shooting taking place. A Buick ad, M explained to LP. Maybe a couple of weeks/months from now, we'll actually see it on TV, and then we'll be able to tell ourselves we were THERE, he went on.

Even though I expected it, it sort of sting even more than I thought it would when we did.




(I'm not sure The Stereophonics really appeal to their demographics, but it certainly appeals to mine.)

4 AM

I hear the baby rouse in her crib. I get up without really thinking, and three seconds later I'm in the nursery by her side. She's wet. This is bad news... It means that I will have to change her, which means that she will fully wake up and then be harder to put back down, instead of just having some kind of a dream feed. I decide to nurse her just a little first, in the hopes that doing it again after might make her drowsy again.

I was right. Despite not turning on the lights, and not making eye contact with her or talking to her, changing her makes her immediately chipper. She smiles, coos, wants to play. I try to nurse her again, but she won't even have it. Are you kidding mommy? I want to talk to you now!

I try putting her back in the crib, and leaving her there for a few minutes. But she doesn't fall back to sleep. Instead, she "talks". And shouts, and generally tells the world how much of a happy, vocal baby she is. I decide to bring her back to our room, where we kept the bassinet even though she hasn't slept there in a few weeks. I know I'll eventually need to teach her to fall back to sleep on her own, but right now I'm just afraid she'll wake her brother up. He's never been a great sleeper (and has our genes to blame), and for some reason tends to hear her less when she's with us.

I put her in the bassinet with her pacifier and her favorite plush toy (a pink, very soft Minnie Mouse our friends got her at Disneyland), then get back into bed myself. She won't have it. She continues to coo, babble, giggle, happily practice all of her hard-earned sounds, over and over again. I shhhh her, put the pacifier back on, which she immediately spits out. I can tell M is kind of awake now. I'm tired and sorry for him (after all I don't have to go to work in a few hours and can -sort of- sleep in), but at the same time, I'm trying really hard not to laugh. She's hilarious! It's the middle of the night, the house is completely silent, and she's dying to communicate with us, even in pitch darkness.

"Mommy...!" Of course she's woken LP up. I get up, go to his room, tuck him in. He drifts back to sleep. I go back to bed. I wait. Five minutes. F is still babbling, although she's mellowing a little. LP calls for me again. I tell him from my bed that I'm here, that he needs to go back to sleep. He probably does, but F interprets this as a encouragement and her babbling gets more enthusiastic again. Fifteen minutes. F falls back to sleep. LP calls again, a third time. I get up and go tuck him in. He seems reassured. Just like mine, his sleep tends to get lighter and lighter as the night wears off. I sit by his bed for five minutes. He seems fast asleep now.

I get back to bed, and wait. He doesn't call back. It's 5:25. Both kids are asleep again, sigh of relief. As crazy as it sounds, I'm smiling. Because yes some nights are tough and I'm tired out of my mind and have probably aged more than a good decade in the last few years. But I also know that a couple of years from now, we'll all (hopefully!) sleep soundly, the kids will be much more absorbed in their own lives, and won't need us as much in this way. And I know that I will look back at such memories very fondly.

M turns towards me and we spoon. He's warm and instantly I'm at this place where it's so incredibly comfortable. I don't know for how long he's been awake. Out of the blue, he tells me: "Thank you so much for giving me this family. Yes, it's nuts, but it's so great. I wouldn't give back my sleep if it meant they weren't here. I've gotten so used to this night rhythm, to this family life, to their presence. I would be so, so, so unhappy without them."

I thank him back with a few tears. For he's giving me this family, this absurdly happy life full of love, night giggles and big brothers who, around 7, will tiptoe into the room and open their arms to a little baby, both kids grinning from ear to ear.

KidS

Kids. Plural. We have two now. Sometimes the realization has not dawned on me yet.

And you know what? Corny or not, I don't care. It's probably the best thing I've ever done.

Pink, again...

There is a picture of my father-in-law somewhere, taken when he was perhaps 18 months. On it, he is wearing a dress. And he has long, silky, beautiful hair nicely done into cornrows. When we looked at it the other day with my sisters-in-law, we laughed. He was a firstborn; did his mother (not-so) secretly longed for a girl or what?

Not so much so. As I suspected by browsing old photos of my sisters and I, in which we look quite boyish, with short hair and mostly "unisex" clothes, the pink craze for girls is quite recent.

If you're interested, read this fascinating article from The Smithsonian. Make sure to look at the pictures, too. Among other things, you will learn that pink used to be a traditional color for boys (and "feminine" blue for girls), but also that babies and young children used to be considered simply genderless. This reminded me that in German, 'child', Kind, is neutral, and so is 'girl', Madchen. I guess this is also why in the Catholic tradition, babies being baptized wear a long white dress, regardless of their gender.

Now why has it become that we feel the need to genderize our babies right from birth? I'm including myself in this statement; even though I try to do other colors than just pink, I still like F to look like a girl. And I admit that I don't really like it when people assume she's a boy (which is pretty much all the time when she's not wearing all-pink or dresses).

I made a mobile

For the nursery.

I first thought about buying one on Etsy; there are so many gorgeous, gorgeous ones. But then I thought, why can't I do this myself? I used leftover wood pieces from the crib (which you might remember M made himself), transparent nylon wire, cutout flowers, beads, elephant-printed cardboard, and a stencil with two different sizes of elephants (her bedspread is made from this fabric).

I'm not sure it was much cheaper, and it took many hours, but I still think it was worth it. 

What do you think?

Favorite florists

I've spent some time lately thinking about flowers again (after my baby-and-seasonal-related hiatus) for two lovely brides-to-be. And do you know how happy that makes me? VERY. I'll talk about their weddings and flowers in due time, if you don't mind.

But for now, I thought I would take some time to post about the great designers who always inspire me.

I Heart Flowers

Sophie (by the way did you know this is the petname my mother had always given me? She nearly never calls me Marie-Ève) is in Glascow, Scotland. She's the real life best pal of one of my best blog pals, Cara from Peonies and Polaroids (who had twin girls two days before I had F). She's also a crazy talented wedding florist I would so love to work with one of these days. She's additionally cool and funny -we were made to get along. I need to go to Scotland.

(Picture from I Heart Flowers)

Brocade Design

One night, just a few weeks after having my baby, I was watching What not to Wear (as one does because one loves the show and secretly hopes someone nominates her even though she doesn't think shes dresses so bad). The lucky girl getting a clothes (and life) makeover was a very sweet Tennessean named Hilary. I'm not sure why, but I really felt for her. And THEN I learned that she was a florist!!! And THEN I logged on to Twitter where I learned that she was the real life friend of an old blog pal of mine from back when we were planning our weddings, Jessica from Budget Savvy Bride (who was there for Hilary's reveal party, where she received a lovely surprise proposal from her love). So I followed Hilary on Twitter, and she followed me back. I introduced myself, and have been in awe of what she does ever since. Small world!

(Picture from Brocade Design Nashville)

Jose Graterol Design

I'm not sure how I came across this Miami florist, but I'm glad I did. He is amazing. His designs are always very sculptural and (falsely) simple -remember, simple is a good thing, for me anyway. I especially love his use of orchids. He's doing a lot of very large scale events, too, and they always take my breath away.

(Picture from Jose Designs)

Beginner's luck?

Two weeks ago while we were in the car, I blurted out to M: "I would die for a French macaron like (my friend whom we visited in LA) Julie makes right now!" (I once ate five in a single sitting overindulged just the tiniest bit on them). His response: "Well, what prevents you from making them yourself then?"

I didn't know. They seemed so fussy and complicated, best left to the pros. But, bolstered by my recent renewed kitchen inspiration, I decided that I would spend the next week teaching myself how to.

Macarons are intimidating. Every single source I read on them is pretty daunting, from the "you're pretty much destined to fail" to the ever joyful "if you even think about attempting them without all the required equipment, drop everything right now and go hang yourself, you pathetic excuse for a human being".

But I still tried anyway (perks of an organized kitchen: I already had everything. I cannot stress enough how good this feels to just decide to make something, and be able to immediately).

And they were not perfect. They were of different sizes. They were overbaked by probably a minute and a half, or perhaps the oven was 10 degrees too high -this did not affect their texture, only their color. A few were also crackled and did not even make it to the picture. But they were delicious, almost as much as Julie's! A perfect mix of crackly, airy and chewy, with a sweet, nutty and rich filling. Certainly NOT a failure in any case. I'll try to improve them further in the next try (I still have 10 pounds to lose, so I'm going to wait a few weeks if you don't mind, because when me has them, me CANNOT stops eating them).

Pistachio Macarons

Notes and tips:

-Weight your ingredients, instead of measuring them like some recipes suggest. Even if I know you're not supposed to, I sometimes still take shortcuts in baking and do things approximately, but not with this recipe. I did what they said, to the nearest gram.

-Watch some how-to videos on Youtube. I did in French, but for sure there are some available in English as well. It will help demystify the steps involved, and it will give you a better idea of the textures you're looking for.

-Equipment you will need: electronic scale, food processor, metal sieve, stand mixer or handheld beaters, two normal cookie sheets, parchment paper, spatula, lots of bowls.

-Equipment they said I needed but didn't: professional-grade aluminum cookie sheets, convection oven.

-I had a lot of filling leftover. I turned the rest into a nutty coffee cake with flour, eggs and leavening.


Macaron shells:

125 grams almond powder (if you have a choice, take the finest grind)
125 grams powdered sugar
90 grams egg whites (3 of my egg whites were exactly 100 grams, so I took out 10 grams with a spoon)
62.5 grams granulated sugar
Food coloring (optional)


1. Pour the almond powder and the powdered sugar into the food processor and blitz for 15 seconds, which will combine everything into a very fine powder.

2. Pass the mixture through a sieve, so any bigger grain or impurity stays behind.

3. Beat the egg whites with the granulated sugar until soft peaks, or "ribbons" form, and the texture is thick and glossy. Don't overbeat -it should not form very stiff peaks. This constitutes a French meringue (as opposed to an Italian one where the sugar is cooked into a syrup -which requires a candy thermometer).

4. Gently fold in the almond mixture into the meringue, in three different steps. Each time, you should mix everything well, but not overmix.

5. If using food coloring, add it now. Recipes all say to take care not to overdo it: pastel colors generally look more appetizing.

6. Transfer the batter into a piping bag with a wide, plain tip.

7. Preheat the oven at 375 F (170 C).

8. Line two cookie sheets with parchment paper. Clever tip: the chef I watched on video put a little bit of batter on each corner of the sheet, then placed the paper on top so it would stick and wouldn't move.

9. Pipe small mounds onto the paper, in one straight movement (recipes usually suggest a 3 cm diameter). The batter should spread ever-so-slightly, but not so much that it loses its shape. Leave a few cm between each one, but they don't have to be that spread out. They won't expand dramatically.

10. Leave out on the counter for 20-30 minutes, which will help form the crust.

11. Put them in the oven for 10-12 minutes. Check every few minutes without opening the door. You shouldn't rotate the sheets. If they puff up a little, it's a good sign. You should take them out at the slightest sign that they're starting to color (unlike me, but I have the excuse of having went to fetch a baby from her nap at that exact moment).

12. Let them cool before taking them off the paper (otherwise, they will stick). Handle delicately!

13. Fill with the piping bag, and sandwich. If you have some left, well congratulations on your restraint! But seriously, they keep better in the fridge than at room temperature, or alternatively, you can freeze them.


Pistachio Filling

150 grams shelled pistachios (I had 110 grams, to I added 40 grams of leftover almond powder)
120 grams powdered sugar
80 grams butter, softened, into dice-size cubes (I cut my cold butter, then put it in the microwave on low for 10 seconds)
5 ml (1 teaspoon) pure almond extract
A little bit of milk or cream to soften the mix (may not be necessary)

Pulse the pistachios into the food processor. While running, add the sugar through the chute one spoonful at a time, then the butter, then the almond extract. Put the filling into the pastry pouch. Note: the result I had was really yummy, but a bit grainy and not spreadable enough. So I put it back into the food processor, and added some heavy cream until it became, well, creamier. I put maybe a few tablespoons, but start small and go slow.

Pat on the back, we made it through another winter

(My first flowers of the year. When I thought about taking this picture, there was still a fairly good amount of snow on the ground, and the crocuses were just on the edge of it -I thought it would look great, like a bang-on metaphor of our spring. But I waited for the next sunny day, and the next thing you know, the snow was gone).

As of today, there is no more snow on our front yard. (Some remain on the backyard, which receives less sun). It's over. We pulled through. You can hear the sigh of relief all across the land. Winter here is hard. This winter was especially hard.

But we're nowhere near the glorious explosion of spring, you know the one I'm talking about, the one we teasingly experienced in LA, the one that makes everyone literally sing. The season is late. Late compared to an average year, and especially late compared to last year. We've had a few nice days, but other than that, it's still cold, and wet, and bleak. Mind you, I much prefer cold rainy days than snowy ones, but I can't wait until the colors and the warmth arrive.

I thought I would post pictures of what this time of year looks like here, just in case someone out there has never seen snow and has all nice fairy-tale like images of it in their head. (The magical glistening snow and pretty frost on a sunny -and not bitingly cold- day does exist, to be perfectly honest. It happens two or three times a year.)

This is "un banc de neige", a snow bank. Snow has a lot of different consistencies and textures (the Innu even have over 10 different words for it), and it doesn't melt at the same time. Snow that has naturally accumulated on the ground goes first -as you can see here, the yard is already fully bare. Snow banks happen when you move the snow around, as you constantly need to do throughout the winter to keep the entryways, parking spaces and roads free. So you shovel and you plow and tend to put the snow all in the same place, where it piles up into sizeable mounds, higher than your house sometimes. It's much denser than the fluffy, untouched snow, and as you can see, very dirty, thanks to all the gravel and sand used to prevent slipping, as well as all the dirt and pollution it absorbs over the months.

People here do something I've never seen anywhere else: they break the banks so they will melt faster,  spreading the snow around. It requires a lot of strength and hard work, and does not appear to have any other purpose than to show off to your neighbors that your yard is snow-free first and hence, you win. M and I find this pretty funny. Mmm. You can either do this, or, wait a few more days and it's done anyway.

Are you feeling sorry for us yet? It would be an understandable reaction, but really you shouldn't. Because actually, this is what it looks like two and half hours north of here. Right now. In freakin' April.

(See the height of the snow compared to the car?)

In two weeks, knock on wood, it will be warmer and drier here, with greenish grass and all kinds of vegetation sprouting out like crazy. There? Uffpm.

Bloggers in their natural habitat

I found this lovely portrait series via The Spark, a CBC (i.e. Canadian) technology radio show (often featuring Quebecers) which also airs on (American) NPR.

The photographer is New Yorker Gabriela Herman. She captured twenty bloggers, several of whom had never shown their face before. All of them are only lit by the glare of their computer screen. It makes the pictures look so eerily beautiful. I really love the candid shots, highlighting the contrasting solitude of bloggers while they are talking to the whole wide world. Being able to see their physical surroundings is also great.

(Pictures by Gabriela Herman)

(These days, I mostly blog in the daylight while F naps. But I occasionally do that too, facing the big iMac screen alone in the dark and rare silence of the house. It somehow made me feel connected to these people).

Pink

People, I like pink! I swear I do! F wears some pink. I wear some pink. What I don't like, is that it somehow became the only acceptable color for little girls to wear these days. I think there's good pink and bad pink. And also, I think that a lot of hideous clothes tend to be pink. That's all I'm saying! I also like the little challenge of finding irresistibly pretty, feminine baby clothes that are NOT of that color. I don't know, it just gives me this extra kick, like it makes the look just ever-so-slightly smarter? Listen to me, the neurotico who discusses the smartness of looks for a five-month old.

I like to display little outfits in the nursery. It adds color and visual interest, and they look so cute anyway! I change them up depending on what we buy or receive. The other day, I realized, hey, they're both pink. Here's proof that I'm no pink basher!

The one on the left was a gift from my aunt. When she gave it to me, she immediately said "I know you don't like pink, but..." , which made me feel like the biggest a*shole ever (which you clearly are when people feel the need to apologize before giving you a present). I admit that I wouldn't have bought it myself. But I like it! F looks adorable in it, so it made me completely reconsider my initial doubts... I like the tulle crinoline and the grosgrain bow. It will be her Easter outfit!

The bubble dress on the right I got myself at Zara, also for our Easter weekend (which we plan to spend in NY). I basically love everything they do for babies, even though I couldn't afford to dress her all in it -I think Spaniards and Italians make the BEST kids clothes. Yes, it's pink, but I love that it's a deep shade, between fuchsia and coral. I have accessorized it with a navy knit cardigan, which she can then wear again with everything.

A sartorialist's take on curvy

Were you aware of the controversy which stirred up the blog world earlier this week? All brought up by these photos of Milan photographer/blogger Angelika, featured on The Sartorialist.

 

  (Pictures from The Sartorialist)

A gorgeous, stylish gal by any account, and if you compare to the man walking besides her or the height of the umbrella, a tall glass of water.

But a lot of people were offended by him calling her a "bigger, curvier girl" (than most women you see in fashion), and further talking about the "sturdy" (but beautiful) shape of her legs. There were more than 1,000 comments, most of them outraged by the fact that she is "normal," not "curvy or big".

What do you think? I don't really see the fuss. He obviously meant it in a positive way. We can all agree that this girl is not huge, but in the world of fashion, well, anything bigger than a size 4 is plus-size. I'm not offended by that. The fashion world and the real world are two completely different things. He was simply stating a fact. Should it be otherwise? Maybe. But no need to shoot the messenger. If changes are to occur, they will happen slowly, one little breakthrough at a time. The fact that he features girls like that (girls like me, really, since even though I'm not 6' tall nor very large these are pretty much my legs, my "chunky" legs as I like to call them) is a start, a big thing. As he commented in an update to the post, it really sucks that whenever he tries to do something a little different and please readers by presenting other body types than the single one dictated by fashion, it backfires over political correctness.

Personally, I'm just in awe of this girl, and the way she carries herself, playing with her proportions, highlighting them perfectly. Maybe I should embrace my chunky legs more; I've always tried to avoid heavy shoes like that, but these ones are absolutely fabulous and absolutely work. And also, I know exactly where she is in Milan in that first picture (behind the Scala, with the red tram passing by in the background), and I really want to be in Italy and wear scarves right now.