Celebratory Crab Treats Recipe

I've talked to a few people about the cookbook my sister and I are working on together. We decided to do this not only to share some of our favorite recipes, but also because of the role food has played in our lives and healing. After losing our mom, our mutual love of baking helped bring us together and turn us from sisters into friends. 

This recipe is one we both instantly knew we had to include- the appearance of Crab Triangles at any event growing up signaled celebration! Despite living in Maryland and having crab readily available, it was expensive and, frankly, our family was e a bit on the broke side often. So every party got sausage bread (and you may just have to wait for the book for that recipe), but New Years, milestone birthdays, graduations, etc. called for something extra special. 

Crab was on sale at the grocery store this morning, so it seemed a perfect time to make a batch so I could snap some photos. Little did I know that this was going to remind me of exactly why we're writing this book- food can connect you to the past. One taste of these made me feel like a kid again. I remembered waiting so anxiously for the cheese to get bubbly, and slowly savoring each bite (because each kid was only permitted 1-2 triangles). I ate (at least) 6 this morning, and was almost expecting Mom to pop up and yell at me for it. 

If you know me, you know I cannot abide processed cheese items when real cheese is so good and so, well, real, so I've swapped out jarred cheese for cheddar. I also added some seasoning and significantly backed off the mayo and butter amounts so they would be less greasy. 

I hope they make you feel like celebrating. 

Ingredients

8 ounces of lump blue crab

1/2 stick butter, softened 

1/4 cup mayonnaise

8 ounces shredded sharp cheddar

1 tbsp Old Bay seasoning 

6 English muffins, halved

Directions

1.        Set your oven to broil- this comes together really quickly!

2.       Mix crab, butter, mayo and cheddar together.

3.        Spread the crab mix generously on each of the English muffins.

4.        Broil for 3-4 minutes until the mixture bubbles and starts to brown.

5.       Cut each half muffin into 4 equal triangles and serve.

Hey Joe, the Bucket's Here

My sister and I are working on a fun project together- collecting some family recipes and lore. I thought it might be fun to share some of these as we go. This one in particular is legend. 

As a child, I was extremely curious. In fact, I still am, but a desirable trait in an adult can certainly be a drawback in a child. I am relatively sure my curiosity made parenting me much more difficult.

To further complicate my parents’ lives, I was also a total night owl (and that is a trait I definitely have not carried into my 30’s).

Shortly before my fifth birthday, I was playing a game on the living room floor late at night. Mom was asleep on the couch behind me. The game I picked involved using tweezers to remove various objects from a make-believe patient. If you did not do this with precision, the patient’s nose would light up. However, being not-quite five, I misinterpreted the objective and assumed the nose-lighting was the goal.

Since the game with my modified rules was far too easy and I was unsupervised, I devised a way to up the ante. Why make this pretend man’s nose light up when it would obviously be more fun to make my nose light up. My plan to accomplish this was to remove the only piece I actually could get out, which was the bucket, and insert it into my nose.

Much like the rest of the game, I found getting the bucket into my nose did not prevent much of a challenge. Unfortunately, getting it out did.

It was nearly ten at night when I woke my sleeping mother with the announcement that I stuck a bucket up my nose and couldn’t get it out. She, understandably, told me I was dreaming and attempted to send me back to bed.

In response, I stretched out my nostril and made her look.

Mom was suddenly very, very awake. She attempted to remove the bucket with her fingers, the tweezers, and a few other household items before admitting defeat and calling the doctor.

Did you know that you could die from bucket inhalation? It’s apparently, according to my pediatrician, a thing that could happen if a bucket inserted up one’s nose were to be inhaled into one’s lungs. The doctor ordered us to the emergency room and promised to call ahead so they were ready for us.

As soon as we arrived, my mother approached the counter and shared my name. The triage nurse immediately leaned back and yelled “hey Joe, the buckets here!” to her colleague, and the giggled throughout our entire intake.

In retrospect, I am now convinced that the ER doc that examined me was very new, and had never met a child before. 

He pulled out a long pair of plyers with a serrated blade. “These are my alligators,” he said. “I am going to put these up your notes and pull the bucket out.”

Adult me would said “the hell you are.” Child me simply pinched my nose shut and refused to cooperate.

It took hours and the bribe of a new toy that Mom had put away for Christmas to get me to unclamp my nose and allow the procedure. I will always remember the feeling of cotton swabs (damp with numbing solution) rolling around in my nose and then how quickly and easily the bucket came out.

The offending bucket made its way into my baby book and the game to which it belonged was outlawed in our home until all children reached the age of 18.

Chocolate, Raspberry, and Almond Cake Recipe

We simply call this “Shauna’s cake” around my house, because it includes so many of my favorite combinations: chocolate and raspberry, chocolate and almond, almond liquor and my mouth…

I spent a long time thinking I didn’t like chocolate cake, but as it turned out, I am just very, very particular about it. I don’t like overly sweet chocolate cake, and it has to be rich and light at the same time. This one is perfect for me. Some may need to up the sugar, depending on your preference. And yes, there are a lot of steps… but the end result is worth it.

Ingredients 

Cake:

1 cup butter (2 sticks)

½ cup coffee or hot water

¾ cup dark  or semisweet chocolate chips

2 cups cake flour

1 ½ cups granulated sugar

1 ½ tsp baking powder

½ tsp baking soda

½ tsp salt

½ cup cocoa powder

2 tbsp black cocoa powder (optional)

2 eggs

2 tsp vanilla

¾ cup full fat buttermilk 

Soak/Frosting:

½ cup almond liquor

6 ounces mascarpone, room temperature

2 cups heavy whipping cream

½ cup cocoa powder

1 ½  cups powdered sugar

2 tsp vanilla

¼ cup water

3 tbsp granulated sugar

Filling:

9 ounces raspberries

2 tbsp almond liquor

½ tsp almond extract

¼ cup granulated sugar

½ cup water

Directions 

Cake and Soak

1.        Preheat oven to 350 degrees and line 3 8” cake pans with parchment paper (or butter and flour the pans).

2.       Add ½ cup almond liquor to a small saucepan and bring to a boil for 1-2 minutes until it starts to reduce and darken in color. Remove and cool.

3.        Add butter, coffee, and chocolate chips to a microwave safe bowl. Heat in 30 second intervals, stirring in between, until the butter and chocolate are melted. Set aside to cool slightly.

4.       In a mixing bowl or bowl of your stand mixer, add flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cocoa powder(s). Whisk together.

5.       Add in eggs, vanilla, cooled chocolate mixture, and buttermilk. Beat on low speed for 1-2 minutes, until all ingredients are just incorporated. Overmixing will result in a chewier cake.

6.       Divide equally among three pans and bake for 20-25 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted comes out clean.

7.        Cool the cakes completely.

8.       Add 1 tbsp of reduced almond liquor to ¼ cup of hot water. Stir in 3 tbsp granulated sugar until the sugar is completely dissolved. Let cool slightly.

9.       Trim the tops of the cake and brush liberally with the water mixture.

Raspberry Filling

1.        Add all ingredients to a small saucepan and place over medium heat.

2.       Bring to a slow simmer and cook for 15-20 minutes, or until most of the water has evaporated and the mixture resembles a thick sauce.

3.        Optional: push sauce through a fine mesh strainer to remove seeds.

4.       Cool mixture completely.

Frosting

1.        In the bowl of a stand mixer, add the mascarpone and beat on low speed until smooth. Add the heavy whipping cream.

2.       Every 1-2 minutes, increase the speed slightly. This will help create a more stable whipped cream.

3.        Once the mixture starts to thicken, add the rest of the reduced almond liquor, sugar, vanilla, and cocoa powder.

4.       Continue to slowly increased the speed, periodically scarping the sides of the bowl, until the mixture becomes a very thick whipped cream.

Assembly.

1.        Place 1 trimmed and soaked cake on your plate or pedestal. Spread with a very thin layer of frosting. With a piping bag, pipe a thin “wall” of frosting around the outer edge of the cake. Fill the inside of the cake with half the raspberry sauce.

2.       Repeat with layer two.

3.        Top with the final layer of cake, and spread a thick layer of frosting to cover.

4.       Optionally, top with fresh raspberries. Serve slightly chilled.

Make-ahead apple sausage monkey bread

I love monkey bread. I’d say “as much as the next guy” but it’s probably more. I mean, biscuits coated in sugar and drowned in butter- what is not to love?

 That said, breakfast needs more than white flour and sugar to me. In years past, I’d made a traditional version of this and then be scouring the house for some nuts or bacon or something. This usually ended up in me eating leftover peanut butter cups from Christmas, you know, because I needed more sugar at 9 am.

 I have been working on this recipe that adds a little protein and fiber into monkey bread. Healthy? No. Delicious? Absolutely.

This is also a great make-ahead meal that we usually have on holiday mornings. Since you can prep a day or two before, it is an ideal New Year’s Day breakfast since you can just pop it in the oven while you nurse your champagne head ache.

                                        

Ingredients

1 lb breakfast sausage

2 cans refrigerated biscuit dough

2 medium green apples, peeled and sliced into ½ inch squares

1/3 cup granulated sugar

¼ cup maple sugar

2 tsp cinnamon

½ tsp nutmeg

½ tsp clove

1 stick butter

¼ cup bourbon

¼ cup maple syrup

½ cup brown sugar

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 (unless making head).
2. In a skillet, brown sausage on medium heat. About halfway through cooking, add the apples. Cook until sausage is no longer pink (do not overcook!) and drain.
3. In a large bowl, combine granulated sugar, maple sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and clove.
4. Cut the refrigerated biscuits into 4 pieces each and toss with the sugar and spice mixture.
5. Spray a Bundt pan with non-stick cooking spray. Arrange a layer of biscuit pieces on the top. Add a layer of half the apple and sausage mixture, followed by more biscuits, the other half of the apples and sausage, and finished with biscuits.
6. Melt the butter and mix in the bourbon, maple syrup, and brown sugar. Pour over the prepared pan.
7. If you’re making ahead, cover the pan and refrigerate.
8. Once ready to cook, bake for 50-60 minutes, or until biscuits are cooked through.
9. Remove from oven and let cool for approximately 10 minutes. Invert onto a plate and enjoy!

Because that was Gary

Around 3 a.m. yesterday, as we huddled in a family counseling room full of dirtied tissues and red eyes, the conversation made it around to Facebook. To me, it wasn’t real yet- the fact that my 40-year-old brother was gone, his body in the next room- it still isn’t.

A few years ago, my siblings and I discovered that one of our uncles had died via Facebook, so my sister very quickly issued a request to the stunned group mourning my brother. We decided to give it a day, to make the calls we needed to make before anyone posted anything about his death to Facebook.

Dealing with death has always felt to me like a very strange contradiction. Everything around those moments, those days, after you lose someone is always simultaneously a blur and a strangely, detailed, moment-by-moment slog. I will now always remember the midnight phone call from my sister telling me he was gone, followed by dressing quickly (and forgetting to brush my teeth), an hour drive to pick her up, and another hour to the hospital. It didn’t seem to like we were going to see my brother’s body. For two hours, we just assumed we were going to figure out what the heck was going on, and how my brother, who would inevitably be apologetically hanging out in the ER, had managed to so badly mangle a Friday night that his wife somehow thought he was dead.

But he wasn’t apologetic. This forty-year-old man, who had less than a week prior been golfing with friends and planning a trip for his one-year anniversary, was gone. And I resented that we even had to discuss when the news would flow onto people’s Facebook feeds, along with the dog photos and requests for recommendations and other inane activity that seems to trite in comparison.

Six hours later, my sister-in-law’s sister (so I guess also my sister-in-law?) was calling to tell me, among many other details, that our conversation was for naught. The local police blotter had posted information about the ambulance call that took my brother to the hospital, and some of the younger employees at the restaurant where he worked had identified him and his wife by name in the comments. I muttered much profanity, and we rushed through our last calls so we could post the information along with a request that people stop flooding his grieving wife with phone calls.

I spent most of the day railing against things- crappy maternity clothes options for a funeral, some work stuff that was requiring a lot of detangling before I could take some time off this week, and mostly how ludicrous it was that people couldn’t respect privacy or the dead and keep information off of Facebook. Last night, though, as I tried to sleep, I scrolled through the comments on my wall, my sister’s wall, and my brothers. I stopped railing. I smiled, I cried, and I gawked that the number of people posting their own tributes to Gary.

I also realized something- I didn’t really know my brother as well as I thought I did.

In our cramped “family counseling” room at the hospital, my sister-in-law had apologized as she told her family that she knew my sister would take it harder than I did. I told her not to apologize, it was simply true. Gary was my big brother, and I loved him, but he was my sister’s good friend. I never had the kind of relationship with him she did. All of the Facebook posts drove the truth of that home, and filled me with regret that I had never tried harder.

I come from a family of five. My dad and brother are a lot alike, and share some personality traits that I struggle to understand. I guess I should say were… they were a lot alike. Shit. That is going to be hard to adjust to. Either way, they both keep their emotions near the surface and were quick to anger and quick to forgive and forget. Gary was non-confrontational always. I used to wonder if he just didn’t notice behavior around him that would make me crazy, but when you got him talking, he absolutely did. He just wouldn’t ever address it.

I’m more like my mom was- my feelings are there but I keep them deep and don’t like people seeing them. I might get annoyed, but making me truly angry is quite a feat. However, once I am there, I am not quick to calm, forgive, and forget. I don’t like that about myself. However, I do like that I will tell you to your face if I am upset, generally calmly, so we can talk it out and move on.

I wonder if Gary thought of me like a robot, too logical, too cold, and too in-your-face. A week ago, I wouldn’t have cared. Now I do.

My sister is the only one that bridges the gap between all of us successfully. She is more pragmatic, like me, but her feelings are on the surface. She can’t handle confrontation at all, but moves on from anger too quickly usually for it to be necessary anyway.

And so Kara knew our brother. She knew the side his friends saw, the side I was aware of but didn’t experience often. She knew the generosity there, how liked he was, and how broad his social net was. I guess that’s another way we were just different- most of my friends I’ve known for 20 years, because I making new friends doesn’t come easily to me. For Gary, it was as natural as breathing.

As I scrolled through last night, Gary’s loss started to become real to me in a way beyond just realizing he was gone, that he would never again pass out on the couch immediately Thanksgiving dinner or show up with a bizarre potluck contribution that you couldn’t help but smile at and then eat. I lost my brother, and I lost the opportunity to know him better.

If I am being honest, I was mad at him, my slow burning kind of mad. He was a very involved uncle to my sister’s three kids. He planned ahead and took off for their birthday parties, took them trick-or-treating every year, and knew what they were interested in. He missed both of my son’s birthday parties, hadn’t seen him in eight months, and most recently skipped a cook out my sister threw us to celebrate the impending arrival of our daughter. All the love and generosity he showed his vast social network didn’t apply to my kids, and as a protective mom, I was pissed.

I know there are a lot of factors. He lived 20 minutes from Kara, and 90 from me. Kara’s kids are older and easier to form those relationships with. And, Gary and I just weren’t as close, so I couldn’t, and didn’t, have the same expectation of effort with my son. I knew part of it was on me, but I was still pissed.

And yet, all of that vanished when I looked at his body on the gurney. Gary could do that- you could want to throttle him, and then he’d made some joke or shrug something off in a way that would have you laughing and forgetting about how annoyed you were.

I saw this so clearly last October when he got married. Gary was so excited about this wedding, as w

e all were. He worked tirelessly to plan it, despite the glaring obstacle of Gary being very, very bad at planning things. And so, after the rehearsal dinner, Gary asked if some of us could spend “20 minutes or so” setting up for the reception. He directed us to the massive venue with a vague explanation of how to get in, didn’t account for the need to get 11 of us through security before we could set up, hadn’t organized the tent cards, didn’t have a plan for what we were doing, and on and on. His “20 minutes or so” ended up being nearly 3 hours. As a mom of a toddler, every extra minute was one less I got to spend alone in a hotel room, which was a rare treat I had been looking forward to.

But, try as I might, I couldn’t really get mad, because every time I started to, I would look over and Gary would be busting his ass to make everything perfect. I would notice the ten other people that got roped into that set up clusterfuck were all just going with the flow, laughing with him, because they understood that this was just Gary. He worked so hard on that wedding, on making it a day that would make Connie happy and be memorable for his guests. And it was.

After the wedding, we were all rehashing stories from it, and I was floored again by how he just knew people. We could mention anyone, even using the smallest detail, like the color of their tie or their hair cut, and Gary could instantly tell you who it was from among their nearly 200 guests. He had a story for all of them. Because that was Gary.

That was the Gary I will never get a chance to be closer to. He was my brother, and I loved him, and I am heartbroken, but the best side of him was one I didn’t know or understand well enough. That was the Gary that filled Facebook last night, driving home to me that losing someone isn’t just losing what they were in your life- it is losing what they could have been.

The great RSVP debacle

I love to plan parties. Honestly, if I planned every party I thought of, I would be broke and my house would be in a perpetual Gatsby-esque state of recovery. For me, though, half of the fun is planning. I find delight in looking for ideas, coming up with crafts, outlining a menu and day dreaming about how the event will culminate.

I have been working on my son's first birthday party since he was about 3 months old. We're throwing it in a private party room... at a bar/restaurant... and there will be kid-friendly activities as well as adult-friendly food and a case of champagne. We don't want people to bring him gifts-- goodness knows we spoil him enough-- we want people to come toast with us and delight in our awesome little man and how amazing it is that we kept him alive and healthy.

But now I have reached a conundrum. It is the conundrum of my usual variety... I can't decide if I am being ridiculous or not. I am finishing up the invitations (so I can sit and get all antsy to mail them for the next two months). There is the "definite" stack, and then a handful of invites that I am on the fence about sending.

Are these people I am not sure we are close enough with to justify inviting them? Nope.

Are these people that live far away and will not be able to make it so I am worried about looking like a gift grubber? Nope... remember, no gifts.

Are we at capacity in the room and I am worried about a crowd? Nope. We have plenty of space.

These are the people that never f*ing RSVP.

Sound harsh? Allow me to explain.

A week before my bridal shower, I was swamped with full time work, part time teaching, and wedding planning. I got a very polite email from one of my bridesmaids asking for phone numbers for a handful of women that were on the invite list for the shower. Seems that the restaurant needed the final head count and these women hadn't replied. I didn't think anything of it and send the numbers, though I did grimace that they needed 8 phone numbers for a guest list of 24. But hey, I have forgotten to RSVP to things myself. Shit happens. Everyone gets a pass now and then.

But then there was the much longer list of people who didn't send back their response for the actual wedding. OK, shit happens, but this one had a self-addressed stamped envelope. And most people are aware of how catering and seating charts work, right? So, again, one week before the wedding I was calling people to see who was coming, and noticed some recurring names.

Then there was my baby shower, and the same meek request from a planner for some phone numbers. That one was at my house, so I was surprised we needed to follow up. Yes, they had to plan food, but how big a difference could one or two non-responders make if they showed up? Except it was more like 10 non-responders, and the difference between planning food for 15 and food for 25 actually is kind of substantial. And again, some of the same names...

There have been other events in between. Every year, my sister and I have a ladies' brunch in August. Two years ago, six of us stared at each other around a table for 10 after four people said they would come but then didn't. Last year fourteen of us crammed around a table for 10 because several people never responded but then came. This year we moved it to my house to lower our stress level about it.

Every time we plan something, I talk to myself in advance and make a self-promise to not get annoyed. I know some people just don't respond. A few isn't that big a difference. Except its rude. And that pisses me off.

Again, shit happens. I do not judge people who miss a response deadline here and there, or accidentally deleted that evite. I have missed RSVPing for things. But this is not the norm for me, it is the exception. However, if the same name was in every "follow up because he/she didn't RSVP" list for every major event in my life for the last five years, then it isn't a "shit happens" thing. It's the norm. And it is not a personality quirk- "oh you know me, I can never remember to do that on time." It's inconsiderate.

And so here I sit, with a small stack of envelopes addressed to people that I love, even though this particular behavior really bothers me. I am torn. I want to celebrate with these people and don't want any hurt feelings if one person gets invited but someone else doesn't.

BUT.

The fall is busy for me at work, plus I am teaching part time. I will be slammed in October. We have to order food for this party, and thus can't have a margin of error as big as this stack. Do I just swallow my annoyance and know that I will have to work in some time to follow up with these people because I know they won't reply? Or is it fair to exclude someone based on past inconsideration?

Am I being ridiculous?

Also, question 4- is not getting invited to a first birthday party really some kind of consequence, or will these people feel they dodged a bullet? But remember this party really is a pretense for day drinking...

6 Reasons I am Jealous of Formula Moms

Before becoming a mom, I never realized that the personal decision on how to feed your child could devolve into a public fight reminiscent of some kind of Hunger Games arena.  You hear horror stories of poor, sleep-deprived moms who can’t escape the formula aisle at Target without some bitchy onlooker muttering “breast is best” as though Mom hadn't heard that before. Seriously, the tributes from District Breast can be such dicks.

And what does that even accomplish? Is one obnoxious stranger muttering a painful cliché going to make a woman who has chosen formula (for one of any number of very legitimate, compelling reasons that are all none of your damn business) suddenly going to realize the error of her ways, throw that Similac back on the shelf, and shove a boob in baby’s face at checkout?

Personally, unless you are filling your child’s bottle with Diet Coke, I pretty much don’t care how Junior gets a full belly. My son was breastfed, and there were things about it that I loved, and things I did not love. I was very fortunate that breastfeeding was (mostly) pretty easy for us. Nonetheless, I couldn’t help but feeling moments of jealousy towards the formula moms I know, because…

1.       They got more sleep. Hey, you, breast feeding enthusiasts, yeah, I noticed that you forgot to put this in the f*ing manual. Not only does formula put your partner on the hook for night feedings, but babies apparently take longer to digest formula. While I was still up every 3 hours when my kid was eight weeks old, my friends that fed their kids formula were blissfully sleeping 6 or 8 hour stretches (though I am sure there are exceptions). Thus, as a reward for breastfeeding, I got another month or two of looking like Pigpen and feeling like I was losing my damn mind from lack of sleep.

2.       They traveled easier. I thought breastfeeding would be the simpler choice- my son would always have food as long as I was with him, right? Well… yes… but particularly in the beginning, I pretty much couldn’t feed without a boppy and a chair with arms. This made going anywhere an ordeal. Meanwhile, formula moms just dumped formula in a bottle and voila. There were no strangers ogling them, and no screaming baby who couldn’t quite latch on while propped up against the counter at a sushi place.

3.       No one stared at their chest. And I am not talking a “I was sitting in a public park with my boobs out and people looked” situation. I mean people would ask if I was breastfeeding, and then stare directly at my chest for the rest of the conversation. 

4.       They didn’t have to sit at work… topless… There aren’t enough door locks in the world to make this feel OK. Pumping at work is just strange. I get bonus points for forgetting to mute my phone on a call with 80 people. Nothing says “embarrassed” like listening to your bosses’ bosses’ boss say “what is that noise? Does anyone else hear that whirring?” and knowing it is you and your milking machine vibrating on speaker phones throughout the country.

5.       They never wondered if their kid only loved them for their boobs. To be fair, babies are blobs of goo and I am sure formula moms also sometimes wonder if and when that blob of goo loves them. However, as a woman, it undermines your self-esteem when your kid gives you the cold stare until face to face with your nipple and then grins. We’re raised to think we’re worth more than just our racks… until we spend 3 months watching the thing we love the most only care about said rack.

6.       Most importantly, the caffeine! If ever I needed 10 cups of coffee to survive, it was when my son was up all night screaming. However, if I drank more than one cup at 7 a.m., he would be up the entire next night dancing. I don’t know how we have pills for everything but keeping caffeine from entering breastmilk. Someone needs to get on that.  

Despite all of this, the decision to stop breastfeeding was one of the hardest of my life. I am also very sure that my formula mom friends have a list similar to this one about why they sometimes wish they could or would have breastfed (like the "eat everything and not gain weight," thing). All in all, those first months are so wonderfully difficult (or difficulty wonderful) no matter how you feed. 

As long as we all have happy, healthy babies, we’re cool… right?

Perhaps the one thing we can all agree on is to not be the asshole at Target muttering “breast is best” in the formula aisle. 

A little less old ladyish?

I read an article the other day about the health benefits of crocheting. Apparently, spending your time with hook and yarn in hand lowers stress and can add years to your life.

I KNEW IT.

I really crochet to keep my hands busy while watching TV with my husband. In the last three years, I've definitely gotten more crochet crazy, cranking out blanket after blanket. I love giving these handmade items as gifts, as I think giving such a keepsake is a good way of saying "you are special enough to me that I spent the time to make this for you!"

The only issue is that I really struggled to find patterns that didn't look like something your great grandma would have thrown over the back of her plastic slip-covered couch. I did some fun stuff with bright patterns, and then I discovered appliques!

These baby blankets are three of my favorites I've every done.

I really think these retain the "keepsake" nature of a gift, but also allow for something very personal and more modern looking. As an example, the bottom blanket was for a friend who used a pond theme in her daughters nursery.

All of these patterns are available on Ravelry saved in my queue. http://www.ravelry.com/people/CrochetShauna 

Shower Hosting: Little Touches for a Big Impact

My group of friends is in the midst of a baby boom, and as a result I've had the opportunity to plan lots of baby showers lately. Luckily, most of my friends and I have eschewed the traditional shower of afternoon tea, cookies, and weirdo games. However, we did all stick with one element of baby showers that I do love: the theme!

I love planning theme parties. I always want to go ALL OUT and make it look like the theme threw up on everything. However, it becomes very, very difficult for me to balance everything I want to do for the theme with what I hope to spend on the party. What's more, though the decorating part is the most fun, I actually think the food part is the most important of any party, so it becomes a tough balance to strike. 

Thus, I've come up with lots of ways to get a theme across without breaking the bank. These little touches can have a huge impact on your event!

Paper. As a writer, I love paper. Particularly for a shower, if you're planning printables, plan on something other than white paper. For my Harry Potter baby shower, everything was printed on thick, cream-colored parchment. For a nautical shower I recently hosted, we used thin, mottled vellum. A pack of paper will cost $10 and add a lot to the feel. 

Signage. Some simple signs can really make an event feel put together. I love tent cards for food (with theme-related names), and station signs. These are examples of what I put together for that nautical shower, using frames I had at the house. These didn't cost anything but time and added a nice ambiance. 

Favors. I am big on favors for showers (I am pretty old fashioned about lavishing guests at events where they bring gifts), but favors do not have to be super expensive. For a friend's shower last summer, we bought a big bucket of Chicago popcorn (to honor Dad-to-be's home town), bagged it, and added a cute sticker that said "Thanks for Popping By!" Each one cost about 50 cents. Likewise, for the nautical shower, I put a few pieces of taffy in a bag and a tag that said "We're Whaley Glad You Came!" which cost about 75 cents each. 

Tableware. This is where parties get expensive. You can buy all kinds of themed plates, cups, etc. but will eat up your budget very fast. I tend to go more towards simple (i.e. solid colored tablecloth, coordinating plates all bought at the dollar store), and add one or two elements to make a theme pop-- for example, these cute silverware bundles I made (thank you Pinterest!) to add a nautical element to a shower table. 

Use the Food. Since I am big on dedicating most of my budget to making sure guests eat well, I often try to pull a dish or two in to support the theme. As an example, a "Bubbles and Brunch" bridal shower I co-hosted featured these french toast bites served in small plastic champagne flutes with maple syrup. The flutes were about $8, but it definitely made our food table pop!

Regardless of your theme, you can bring in a few good elements without breaking the bank!

My Baby Shower Didn't Suck!

I am way late in posting this (since my son is sleeping soundly behind me), but I owe many thanks for three incredible ladies who threw me the world's best baby shower.For the record, I am one of those women that generally hates any kind of event with the word "shower" in the title. I associate them with lame food, forced small talk, and awkward games (unfair, I know... showers are changing). Luckily, my shower-planners know this about me and so they put together an event that was a bit different.

First of all, it was Harry Potter themed! And they let me help come up with some of the decorations and activities. The food was incredible, and the whole event was exactly what I wanted-- celebrating my little man in a non-stodgy way with the people I love most.

Here are some of the photos and a few of the touches I most appreciated!

The Food:

That's what its all about, right? Well, we wanted to steer clear of anything that wasn't delicious just so we could stick to the theme. Thus, my brilliant friends got creative. The food table was all about "Herbology Bites," meaning that each dish featured a key herb. We made tags for them explaning the "mystical" uses of each herb.

For instance, said brilliant friend tossed some fresh berries in Hibiscus sugar and the tag said:
Hibiscus- Critical component of love potions 

And it all came out beautifully. 

Drinks:

I am big on lots of drink options, so I asked to be in charge of drinks. We had lots of things on theme! Again, I went for flavor over anything, so my butterbeer was just salted caramel ice cream and cream soda.  People loved it!

Decorations:

My sister had a BLAST with decorating. Check out some of what she put together.

Activities

Some of my favorite elements! Our guests had a blast with our photo  booth....

 The Favors:

One of the other elements I was in charge of. I spent months crocheting scarves in Harry Potter house colors. As they left, our guests donned a sorting hat, pulled a house name out of a jar, and took a scarf for the road.

 And so, as you can see, this was not a traditional shower, but it was the perfect one for me!