Arabian Nights & Cutie Pies

I have a weakness for food movies and Indian music, so I kind of had to go see "The Hundred-Foot Journey." My sweet husband induldged and took me...it was't quite as foodie as I was hoping but since there was Indian pop music and there were no trashy scenes, it turned out well. In addition, I realized I needed Marguerite's wardrobe:

and head-scarf collection:

All in all, it was a productive movie-going experience.

Afterwards, my genius hubby said, "Well, now I guess we should go eat Indian food!"

Except, we don't know where Indian food is and we left the food-looker-up device (my phone) at home. So, we decided Mediterranean was also ideal and went to hit up our spot, Pasha's. My amazing mother-in-law discovered this place and she's turned us into fans. Even better, it's right next door to this market called Ali Baba's. I needed to go to Ali Baba's because this:

Behold, my roadmap to San Antonio. I was actually going to buy a map, but then I found this and thought, hey, I have GPS, I don't know how to get anywhere, I just need to know where to go! I needed a food guide and Alex needed a poisonous snake guide, we found both at our giant H-E-B. Clearly, our priorities are well-organized. And this thing has proven itself incredibly reliable. Ali Baba's was listed as a place to hit up. Except, once I saw Ali Baba's I was no way going alone. 

The foodie movie was the instigator for the together-trip to Ali Baba's. And it was no disappointment. Coconut oil and Himalayan pink salt were SO cheap, plus we found THIS:

I know you are as green as It is with jealousy that we found this incredible Thing, although you may be wondering, like I was when my husband excitedly exclaimed that we MUST get It, what exactly IT is.

Well, I will tell you.

Actually, the Ali Baba's cashier will tell both of us: it is an Indian Bitter Melon. And, once I googled it upon arriving home, it turned out that "Indian Bitter Melon" did in fact bring up other objects resembling this bumpy verdant object. Apparently you soak it and saute it, and you absolutely must de-seed it, although whether or not you skin it seems to be up for debate. We shall see what happens when I face the thing in armed culinary combat.

Besides Indian Bitter Melon, we also foooouuuuund...TURKISH DELIGHT.

Narnia fans, rejoice. Don't worry, there was no White Witch circling the Turkish Delight section, so having selected a box of assorted sweets in safety we made plans to eat them and read some "Arabian Nights" upon returning home from dinner, because my husband just comes up with ideas like that at the slightest provocation. So, we bought the Turkish Delight and the Himalyan pink salt and the Indian Bitter Melon and we did NOT buy the yogurt soda (whatever that is) because...it was refrigerated and we did not have a cooler and we were going to dinner before home. Otherwise, my husband would have bought a whole liter.

Pasha's was a great choice because they were actually serving the yogurt drink I had just talked him out of buying. (He feels we need to go back to Ali Baba's for a liter, in case you're considering a yogurt soda spree for yourself.) Also, we had this funny little waitress who was very sweet, and who thought we were "just so cute" she brought us a free dessert. 

No, really, we got free dessert for being cute. Look:

She said it was called mango cheesecake, but I told Alex it was really a Cutie Pie. 

He thought it was funny.

We did read some "Arabian Nights," but since we fell asleep at home before we got to the Turkish Delight, he announced that he needed to bring me breakfast in bed this morning. (I know, I know...such a stud.) Having lived in Italy for so long he's a big believer in eating meals in courses, so my first course came in looking like this:

Tea. In a teacup. With Turkish Delight.

Such a Cutie Pie.

7 Quick Takes - Life in Marriedland

Join the fun at Jennifer's....

                                                           1. 

I observe that my last post was July 16th, and as today is merely the 14th this technically means it hasn't been a whole entire month. I feel so much better about myself. Taking a month off to get married seems completely justifiable, I think. And now here we are, married and re-located and plugging away at our little married life and having, just, buckets of fun together. As my husband (!!!!) likes to repeat every so often: "Marriage is so great...Why isn't everybody doing this?"

He's a charmer, that one.

                                                           2. 

My husband's (!!!!!) first day at his new job was exactly six days after our wedding, so when his new co-workers started finding this out, the favorite question became, "So, how long is/did/will the honeymoon last?"

The answer: INDEFINITELY. As we have yet to announce the end of it to ourselves, it appears to still be going on. Also, my wedding countdown app apparently became a marriage count-up app and it now informs us that we have been married 19 days, 19 hours, and 22 minutes as of this particular minute...so there's really just no telling how long we can drag out the honeymoon thing. I'll keep you posted on this.

                                                           3. 

Having grown up in Corpus Christi and loving that city with the whole section of my heart which appropriately belonged to city-love, it took me (hang on, I need to count...okay) roughly 14 years to make peace with living in Houston and convince myself that I did not utterly hate and, in fact, actually did not really mind living in Houston. 

Not so with San Antonio. I've always liked visiting here, was excited to move here, and the longer I am here, the more I love it. Flat out love it. I never could bring myself to say I loved Houston, though there were certainly very many loveable peeps there. San Antonio and I have really hit it off. It's so chill with itself. Houston always feels like it's trying to "BE SOMETHING." San Antonio just is. So, that's def more my style, plus it has more trees, less humidity, cool little farmer's market-y places, aaaaaand

                                                           4. 

H. E. Freakin' B. All over the freakin' place. I have joked that in Corpus Christi, you could drive any direction and find a Whataburger in under 10 minutes. In Houston, you could drive any direction and find a Starbucks in under 10. Well, in San Antonio...H-E-B. 

This is not a complaint.

I am an H-E-B fangirl. Really. In fact, I needed to hit up Wal-Mart the other day for some thread and I passed TWO H-E-Bs TO GET THERE. I think this was a rookie mistake...the biggest H-E-B in Texas is also the closest to our little honeymooner nest and I think since I found zipties there the other day in a big ol' manly tool aisle, there probably is some little girly crafty aisle where I might have bought my thread. I could also buy a flatscreen TV, a BBQ pit, a bean bag chair and get an eyebrow wax inside that same H-E-B, if I had a mind to do it. Next time I need to fix a button for my husband (!!!!) I will look for my thread there. H-E-B and I are besties, yo.

                                                           5. 

I-10 and I, not so much. It hates me. No, really. When I used to visit my friend here I would get lost ev-uh-ry single time. Fortunately for myself, I find I can navigate 1604 fairly well and all life's essentials (church, H-E-B, two bookstores, and a Hobby Lobby) are easy peasy to get to from it and so I just don't get on 10. My husband (!!!!!!) drives 10 for us. Although I did get on it the other day ALONE and I did not get lost or wreck the car or die so it was a good trip.

                                                           6. 

I am having such a good time being a housewife I can't help thinking probably everyone is just dying to see my cute little homey things, because I personally may or may not be swooning over them from time to time. So, I will satisfy the curiosity I'm convinced you must have and show you...(drumrolll please)...The Garden. BEHOLD:

There is also a hanging flowerpot with cutesie little yelllow flowers AND a teenie little rosebush which I have not yet killed. In addition to these botanical wonders, I have major plans in development to turn this magnificent thing:

(which my husband [!!!!!] acquired for me) into a sort of hanging/wall garden thing which will surely rival those of ancient Babylon. Will post pictures when this is accomplished. I'm sure you can't wait.

                                                           7. 

So, I made a pie. Two, actually, but the first one was important because, well, it was the first. The Inaugural Hanson Pie, as we called it. It was banana cream pie because Bountiful Baskets sent us five bananas last week and that is a lot of bananas. We got seven bananas this week, so...we'll see what becomes of those. Anyway, here is the Inaugural Hanson Pie. Please ignore the dishes surrounding and notice instead the H carved by my husband (!!!!) in the near-center of the pie:

It tasted good too, by the way. Though, the crust was determined not to leave its comfort zone in the pie plate and clung to that familiar place of residence with nearly ever fiber of its stubborn being. We eventually convinced it we had intended it for bigger and better things and ATE ALL OF IT. Worry not, we had help. There's a funny story about that - maybe sometime I will tell you how I accidentally invited a total stranger over. Then we can all laugh about that particular "Lucille Ball Moment" of mine, as my husband (!!!!) calls such and similar moments, which are rather more than infrequent, truth be told.