Bidding her farewell

We had been regulars at the hospital lately, as my dear grandma fought for her life. We bade her farewell as she passed this Sunday prior, and though there is an indescribable sorrow amongst her children and grandchildren, I thank the Lord who was gracious to give her 88 years on this earth. As I look at the most recent picture I have with her above circa 2008, I am reminded of how she sacrificially cared for my grandpa, her eight children, and twenty grandchildren throughout her life. We could all confirm that she was the glue that melded everyone together, especially as she modeled faithfulness and love in her 70 year marriage with my grandpa. She heard the gospel three times in her last days, and though I wrestle with not absolutely knowing if her heart had truly been captured by the gospel, I am comforted by the truth that it is not up to us, but up to God who changes hearts. The husband and I read this verse this weekend past, which granted us great comfort for "it depends not on human will or exertion, but on God, who has mercy." I miss and love her tremendously, but I know God is sovereign and wise in working out all things for good, and I am thankful for the husband and my dear church family who've come alongside us with their love and prayers.

Sorely losing

Monopoly Deal has been the starring pastime around here. The Mister will cajole anyone who is over, or everyone at a group gathering, to play. I must say I like it better than the original Monopoly - it's faster and more strategic. What I don't like is that when it's just me and the husband playing, I lose more than I win. I've only beat him once, and I hate it. I pretty much detest him immediately afterward because my innumerable losses puncture my doggone pride. I'm rude, cold, and I refuse to play again, except I always end up playing again in hopes of vindication. Funny how this pattern of bitterness, defensiveness, and retaliation is the exact pattern that replays in a larger scale in the midst of our conflicts, which reminded me of this encouraging article. The truth proclaimed in it resonated with me because though my (and his) sin is always the fundamental problem, humble repentance is always the fundamental solution. I am thankful for God's grace through the gospel that teaches me what humble repentance looks like, and for the husband who always models it first in our conflicts. Therefore, losses in Monopoly Deal are just little instruments in my training in humble repentance. So, really, these losses are for my good (though I really want to win!).

Fictitious fried chicken with creamed corn

Blustery wintry weather has been yielding a pattern of hearty, comforting meals at our dinner table. The husband has had a hankering for Southern comfort food this season, as evidenced by meals of the past few months: barbecued ribs, seared pork chops, and creamy mac n' cheese. We love comfort food, especially when I can ensure that its made up of way fewer calories and fat content than if we were to eat it at a restaurant. The Mister's been asking for fried chicken lately, and because exceedingly greasy, fried edibles are not welcome in our home, I ended up making fictitious fried chicken one evening with no oil and baked via the oven. It was marvelously yummy, and made our consciences happy. Our sides were simple sauteed veggies and creamed corn. Creamed corn became a family favorite over the holiday season, and I had leftover ingredients for another batch, so it was an insanely tasty complement to the fictitious fried chicken.

Fictitious Fried Chicken with Creamed Corn (oven fried chicken recipe adapted from here)

Ingredients:
3 lbs chicken
1/2 cup nonfat milk
4 tbsp garlic, minced
1 lemon
2 tsp dried basil
2 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp sugar
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
1/4 cup cornmeal
6 tbsp organic breadcrumbs
2 tbsp grated Parmesan cheese
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper
1 cup whipping cream
1 lb frozen kernel corn
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 tbsp whole wheat flour
1 1/2 tbsp sugar
3 tbsp fresh Parmesan cheese

Directions:
1. In a large tupperware container, combine milk, garlic, juice of 1 lemon, 1 tsp basil, 1 tsp oregano, sugar, and cayenne pepper. Whisk until mixed and sugar is dissolved. Pierce each piece of chicken with a fork several times and cover in marinade. Turn chicken pieces in marinade to coat well. Cover and refrigerate overnight.
2. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. In a shallow dish, combine cornmeal, breadcrumbs, 1 tsp basil, 1 tsp oregano, 2 tbsp Parmesan, 1 tsp lemon zest, and season with sea salt and freshly ground pepper to taste. Mix well.
3. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil and top with a wire rack. Spray rack with nonstick cooking spray.
4. Remove each piece of chicken from the marinade, letting the excess drip off. Press into breadcrumb mixture until well coated on both sides. Place on wire rack.
5. Bake until chicken is crisp, about 50-55 minutes.
6. While chicken is baking, make creamed corn, first by combining whipping cream, corn, 1/4 tsp salt, sugar, and 1/2 tsp freshly ground pepper in a pot and bring to boil. Simmer 5 minutes.
7. Whisk extra virgin olive oil and flour in a small saucepan over medium-low heat until you have a roux. Add to corn, and mix well until corn mixture is thickened and creamy. Remove from heat.
8. Transfer corn mixture to a casserole dish, sprinkle with 3 tbsp fresh Parmesan, and brown under broiler for 5-8 minutes. Enjoy with fictitious fried chicken and sauteed veggies!

On top of the mountain

As Southern California natives, we're deprived of seasons, specifically winter, so I had been nursing a mighty hankering to gallivant in the snow at this time of year. We drove over to the mountains on New Year's day with dear family and took a tram more than 8,000 feet up to the snow-capped peaks to herald in the new year. We marveled at God's handiwork as we took in the frigid air and snowy expanses, where the majestic snow splendor ignited within us a giddy furor. The main course of action was sledding, and though I hadn't gone sledding in over ten years, it was as thrilling as my ten-year-old self remembers. By the day's end, we decided that a snow day ought to be an annual tradition.

Different definitions of an adventure

On day two of their sleepover at our little home, the husband told the kiddos with thorough enthusiasm, "We're going on an adventure!" "Ooh! Are we going to Chuck E. Cheese??" Key asked. "I hope we get to go to Disneyland," Rock said, "I really love going to Disneyland." "Ya!" Story chimed in. Alas, our destination was an ordinary, no-frills suburban park. Are parks not worthy of adventures anymore? We like to believe the kids still had a grand ol' time. One can't go wrong with multiple playgrounds and mammoth-sized ducks.

When little ones make cupcakes

We're pretty partial to borrowing winsome kiddos, and the last time we had our dear friends' kids sleep over at our little home, they implored us for the chance to make cupcakes, all by themselves. They flashed us their adorable smiles, and how could we resist? They did a marvelous job, as older brother Rock led the culinary charge and helped his younger sisters decorate cupcakes worthy of a bakery display. The husband observed the entire process and said to him, "Rock, I'm going to teach you how to make a fire after this. We can't have you just making cupcakes." Five minutes later, the husband admits, "Rock, I have a confession. I don't know how to make a fire." My husband is such a nerd. I love him, and we love the sweet kiddos with whom we get to spend time.

A super swell subway station

Have you ever stepped off a train in a subway station on the Lower East Side and were confronted with a rollicking vintage swing party, complete with a live band tooting old-timey Christmas tunes, and swing-dancing couples in 1950s garb? We hadn't, so the husband and I tried fit in with our attire, whilst the Leongs seamlessly joined in on the jump jivin'. And because it was all such a swell surprise, we had to document the whole affair.

The best kind of garages

Every time I am on a trip, I shall attempt to pinpoint at least one flea market to patronize. Chelsea boasts a wealth of vintage stores, and is also home to one of my favorite New York antique markets, to which the husband kindly accompanied me when we were on the East Coast. I appreciate that many flea markets on the East Coast are held in garages, unlike on the West Coast, whose markets are oft held outdoors. We uttered sighs of relief to hop from the train to the garage, as the skies poured and the winds howled that afternoon. The Mister and I both hunted for treasures, and scored a couple of vintage lovelies for our little home. It's a shame we can't consider adopting bulkier items while we're out-of-town, since they won't fit in our carry-ons. The husband, however, would deem that a blessing.

Fleeting

Happy Friday, you merry lot. I do hope the first week of the first month of this new year has treated you splendidly. Our week fizzled off in a rather rocky manner, for my dear grandma is in critical condition and our family has been haunting the hospital halls. If you pray, won't you please help pray for my sweet grandma's health, and infinitely more importantly, that she would understand and believe in the gospel? God has been impressing upon me how life is truly but a vapor, and that only what is done for Christ will last. Please also pray for us to trust God's will, that the Mister and I would be an encouragement to my family during this time, and for God's glory to be made known in these circumstances. I may not always grasp the bigger picture, but I am certain that God is good all the time. Thank you kindly in advance for your prayers. Have a lovely weekend, dear friends.