DelSo Wine Oh!

Here's how we do summer Sundays in the DelSo.

Warriors - come out to play!

Warrior Dash, 2012, is a fait accompli.  Check out the deets here.

My never-ending love affair with Mario Batali...

Or - Check payable: Mario Batali

Guess who went to a metal show?

One of these things is not like the others...

And did I mention it disturbed the hell out of me?  Read it here.

Allman Brothers/Santana at SPAC

I wrote about last night's show and posted pics over there - you know, on WordPress.

Breathe, breathe in the air

Check it out over here at my WordPress spot.

Roadtrip Rendezvous - Kingston

Classic self-timer shot

Over the years, the girls and I have met in many Hudson Valley towns.  Woodstock, Saugerties, Rhinebeck, New Paltz and Kingston come immediately to mind as locations which have witnessed our antics as we attempt to squeeze in all we wish to share - thoughts, experiences, illicit indulgences, a meal...whatever.  It would be fair to say that we, as a collective group of very old friends, have been around, yet, there's always something new to see or do, as our adventure this weekend readily proved.  Have you been riverside in Kingston?  Wow!

As I said, we've been to Kingston before and enjoyed it, but our explorations were in the area surrounding the original State Capital, sort of uptown I'd say.  This time though, we (ok, me, but I'm the one who is usually responsible for sussing things out) had a hankering for Mexican and Mole, Mole at 23 Broadway had some positive comments on Yelp so we decided to give it a shot.  The part of Kingston where my Google maps brought me was completely new to us, but it has obviously been developed for centuries.  The hill which lead us down to what seemed to be an inlet for the Hudson, was a broad street with brick buildings on both sides, some commercial, many residential. In addition to the restaurant where we ate, there were a number of other options for dining, including a place I had heard of for years, but had never seen - Mariner's Harbor.  Based upon the Yelp reviews, I don't imagine I'll be eating there anytime soon, but I now know where it is.  

Our destination, proved to be a winner!  We gathered at the bar, as we were 4 girls arriving in 3 cars, and got started with margaritas - all made with fresh juices and a steal at $5.  I went with the passion fruit and it was tasty with the salt rim doing a perfect job of balancing the sweetness.  Almost scary easy to drink - you've been warned.  The staff was great - welcoming, cheery and competent, and our server helped us order an appropriate number of dishes for 4 tequila swilling hungry ladies. We went with a salad and quesadilla to start, and then three entrees; pork, chicken and shrimp. 

such a bright space

beautiful bar

citrus avocado salad

pork-y deliciousness and fried plaintains

chicken mole burrito

Let me tell you, this place was perfect.  The food was fresh and nicely presented, the atmosphere was comfortable and fun and  we had a blast.  Our meal, including 5 or 6 margaritas came to an incredibly reasonable $102 and we were more than satisfied with everything.  The location is great for a post-meal walk and we loved checking out the buildings, both occupied and vacant.  At merely an hour's drive from Albany, we'll happily plan a return visit for later this summer, maybe arriving earlier to check out some of the shops which had already closed.  Very cool, very close.  Go!

Treetops to Rooftops - 5K

image: Bob Kopac

Last Saturday, on what may have been the most beautiful morning of June, a couple of friends and I ran the 4th edition of the Treetops to Rooftops 5K in the lower Hudson Valley.  Or, to be more precise, over the Hudson River via the Walkway over the Hudson.  In 2011, this race was my first 5K since I had fallen in love with running, and revisiting the course a year later, gave me an experience beyond that inaugural race - and a time 2 minutes faster.

If you're looking for a stunningly beautiful, essentially flat run, this course is for you.  It begins on the west side of the Hudson in Highland.  Runners line up according to anticipated mile speed and traverse up a small incline and then onto the walkway.  If you haven't taken the time to visit this state park - what are you waiting for?  On a clear day, the views are unparalleled and on this particular morning, I swear visibility was crazy clear.  The east side of the river (Poughkeepsie) is lovely and wooded and the turn around to head west comes remarkably fast.  There was a single water station on the Poughkeepsie side, which seemed appropriate for the time of the race (8:00 a.m.).  

I don't know if you can tell from the photo, but I was absolutely joyful to be running this race.  At one point, maybe a mile or so in, I had to refrain from releasing a big 'ol "Yippee!!!" as I looked south along the river at the sheer beauty as far as the eye could see.  Magnificent!  There were 420 finishers this year and I was 11th out of 51 in my age group, 162nd overall.  Not bad, but there's always opportunity for improvement. 

This race is held mid-June each year, so keep your eyes open for the registration and plan to be there next year.  You won't regret it. 

Mountain Jam 2012

For the second consecutive year, I headed down to Hunter Mountain to meet the guys and drink beer listen to some music.  Although I didn't commit to getting a ticket until midweek, I had been eyeing the schedule for months.  I ultimately decided that Sunday's lineup was the most appealing to me despite my interest in seeing Ben Folds, who played on Saturday. Believe me, at this point in my life I've accepted that it simply isn't possible to have everything and I wanted to check out Steve Winwood again after having seen him at The Egg a few years ago.

The impressive thunderstorms that rocked the DelSo failed to materialize in Hunter, but it did seem as if the threat of bad weather had discouraged some potential concert goers.  Parking wasn't too difficult and other than an inordinately long line for vegetarian fare, the wait for refreshments and bathrooms wasn't unreasonable.  The hillside was a bit treacherous, particularly to those who had overindulged (side note: If you were born pre-1990, and still haven't learned to moderate your consumption, it's time.  Post-menopausal and falling down drunk are not a good look.), but a layer of straw helped provide traction and there was always the option of taking a $5 shower if one got particularly dirty.  And speaking of dirty, could someone please explain the appeal of flip flops, or even bare feet, at one of these events? The thought of mud (or worse) between my toes simply skeeves me.

Here's the bill we enjoyed.  I didn't get down there until about 4:00, which got me in right at the sweet spot of the Tedeschi Trucks Band.  I must say, while I've always enjoyed Derek Trucks' guitar skills, I wasn't always impressed with the amount of soul he put into his playing.  This show was an exception to his typical technician sort of playing and I loved watching he and the missus playing together.  Franti was his usual wave of joyful sunshine, including a rainbow inducing close to his set, and Steve Winwood played with zeal and decades of experience, but I definitely found him more captivating in the small venue of The Egg.

All in all - a great day with some terrific musicians and a couple of even better than great friends. 

 

Rock & Run recap

SPAC ~ May 20, 2012

Can I blame my less than stellar time (28:27) on Max London?  No, probably not, but I can thank Capriccio Saratoga for the excellent Pasta Puttanesca carb load we enjoyed Saturday night.  I can also say,  that it was a hot morning and a hillier than expected course.  And a lot of fun!  I wish I had taken more photos but I learned during this event that it is really difficult to participate in and photograph the same event.  There were so many shots I didn't get, including of the bands scattered along the course, that I left feeling a tad disappointed.  Really though, how down can a girl feel after running on a beautiful day with a couple of great friends?

This was the third year for this event and I'm already looking forward to running it again in 2013.  And besting my time, of course.

Rock n Run

Delmar Dash Day

I haven't really written too much about running lately...because I've been too damn busy running!  I ran a couple of races in March, including the Running of the Green (4 mi., 37:10) and the Ice Breaker Challenge 5k (26:25), while April's focus was the Delmar Dash (5 mi, 43:50).  You should know that I never imagined being able to bang out a 5k like it's nothing - when did that happen?  As far as running 5 MILES - well, I certainly didn't ever think I would be able to do that in my lifetime.  So, you know what that means, right?  Time to start pushing to 10k distances! 

I've been running with a couple of girlfriends and we're exploring the Normanskill, as well as the Pine Bush.  I love running down by the 'kill and would love to organize a couple of moonlit runs during the warmer months.  I think we could do a sweet 5 or 6 mile loop through the Normanskill area to the back nine at Capital Hills and then across New Scotland to Whitehall and back to the DelSo.  If you're interested let me know.  We'll probably have to be semi-stealth about it - shhhh.  As far as running in the Pine Bush - wow!  It is challenging and beautiful and kind of scary (ticks!), but it is also the perfect spot to meet my Niskayuna running friend, Chrissy.  And did I mention that it is stunningly beautiful?

May promises to be fun with the Rock and Run 5K, especially fun, in fact, if you're hitting Saratoga Saturday afternoon for a quick spin through the park's trails followed by a nice dinner and perhaps a cocktail.  Or two.  The run doesn't start until 10:30 Sunday morning so there are definite opportunities for fun!  Why don't you sign up, too?  Let's make it a real party.

The luck of the Irish

What a day I had on St. Patrick's Day! I mean how can a colleen complain about a day that included a flat 4 mile run, a creamy pint of Guinness and a vivid voice from the past reminding me who I am?

My day started with The Running of the Green (Island). I remember signing up for the race shortly after I participated in a 3.5 mile New Year's Day run and thinking that 4 miles seemed an awfully long way to run without stopping. Yesterday, though, between the camaraderie of a contingent of green-clad runners, the mild temperature, and the sun breaking through the clouds, it really wasn't too far to go. And that was before Karen and I had decided to celebrate our efforts with a pint.

On a day which typically means excess, particularly in Albany, Karen and I knew we were only having one. Seriously, it wasn't even noon - who the hell did we think we were? Our car pool rendezvous point had been the Corning Preserve parking lot so we headed over to the nearby Olde English thinking (correctly) that we would beat the overindulgent crowd. This was the maiden visit for both of us and we couldn't have been happier. Well, maybe if Matt had been there, but, that aside, it was the ideal spot and I very much look forward to returning on an occasion when I can sample a few more of the offerings.

And - that voice from the past? As is often the case, it came from the most unexpected place. I was tossing some crap out of my basement as I work towards being fully responsible for the condition of my home. There was a box of books that had been residing in the dankness of the cellar for a decade and a half and it was time to "discard"* them. As I removed one, a green envelope slipped out from between the swollen pages. Oddly enough it was a St. Patrick's Day card I received in 1992, my senior year of college. I had spent the first three weeks of that particular year in Ireland getting to know my father's family and was feeling very connected to my heritage. I returned to Albany with a new sense of self and an inner peace that I have done my best to nourish in the 20 years which have passed. The man who gave me the card had included some thoughtful words about my roots and my new found identity. While his words continued to touch me despite all the years which have gone by, what made the largest impact was my forced recollection of who I was then and who I want to be now.

The relationship I shared with that long ago man was romantic and passionate and filled with intensity. And doomed. There was no future in it and an observer to it once characterized it as creating more heat than light. She was right. But, as is consistent with all the human interactions we have, I learned from it and wouldn't be the person I am today without that experience. On a day of firsts, a reminder from the past seemed oddly appropriate and I'll be considering the message far longer than that delicious pint lasted.

*librarian talk for get rid of

Let's see about the go see

It has been a very odd week. And I'm not complaining. Did you know that in the not too distant past I thought every day of my life was going to be the same as yesterday? I had a sad, sad feeling that the next 30 years of my life were going to be coasting towards the ultimate end. Yep, that was it. The life I know today couldn't be more different than what I had tried to convince myself was an acceptable reality. The life I know today is, in fact, Better Than Ever. Which brings me to my recent adventure - an interview for an upcoming article at O magazine...

My former roommate, forever friend, longtime encourager of my writing, Rachel Aydt, sent me an intriguing (don't you love this word?!?) casting call from a former colleague of hers. O magazine was looking to cast a story about women who have experienced a shift, emotional, physical, mental, or spiritual, and who now feel they are indeed Better Than Ever. I don't know if I would have naturally seen myself in this light, but when you get an email from an old friend encouraging you to submit the requested photos and accompanying paragraph, you do it. So I did.

Which brings me to one of the most interesting points of this entire experience - how people, both those of longtime familiarity and of new acquaintance, perceive you. We've talked before about the fact that I am vain and self-satisfied. I won't deny it. I've worked really f'n hard for everything I have and I've kicked myself in the ass as frequently as I've patted myself on the back. Believe me. I know where I've come from and what I've achieved and am comfortable feeding my ego internally. What boggles me is when someone tells me that I inspire them or that I am Better Than Ever. That blows me away.

image from wikipedia

So, I went to NYC on a go see, just like in America's Next Top Model. Except, I'm not 6 feet tall with perfect teeth or even a fetching space between my top two teeth. And I can't imagine walking in heels higher than 3.5". And I honestly don't know how to reconcile the fact that I'm obviously a size small to people who don't know me, while in my own mind I am perennially a size medium. I had to draw an "x" through the line on the intake form where they wanted to know what modeling agency I was with, because I'm not a model. I'm just a woman with a story. And whether O magazine sees it or not, I know that I am Better Than Ever. 

To be continued....

We All Fall Down

image from: hachettebookgroup.com

I have a dark fascination with addiction. I don't understand it, but I know that it is real and accept that it is a part of our society. It's everywhere. Of course, for every drug addict there is an ever widening circle of the people impacted by the drug addict and their actions. I think it would be very difficult to find a person who has not been touched in some way by addiction. Despite my years in the restaurant business, I have had minimal exposure to hard drugs or the people who use them. Most of my knowledge comes from reading memoirs and the experiences I learn about when there is a drug related death in a friend's life. Unfortunately on this particular day in January, I've spent time reeling from both of those occurrences in a single day.

A couple of years ago I read two nonfiction works written individually by a father and son, David and Nic Sheff. The father's book, Beautiful Boy, shares the heartbreaking story of losing a beloved child to a life of drugs, prostitution and criminal activity. And that Beautiful Boy, of course, is Nic. His tale, Tweak, told matter-of-factly, with false bravado and a persistent tone of disbelief, taught me about a world where drugs repeatedly ruined, and sometimes ended, lives. Nic has a new book out, We All Fall Down, which I just read in record (for me these days) time. The repeated trips to rehab, the 12 Steps that never were taken, and the disappointment that constantly waged war with the hope for a happy ending, made this book a real page turner. Knowing that Nic had relapsed after the original success he experienced with Tweak was disheartening, but this was one of those books that can cause a reader to hold their breath. Powerful.

Which brings me to the other part of my day. Perfectly lovely parents are not guaranteed that their children will escape the allure of hard drugs. I've been to some wakes and funerals over the years and too often they have been for people younger than myself. To witness a parent bury a child is to witness one of the deepest sorrows imaginable, and as a parent, I think it is impossible to attend these funeral services without projecting how one survives such a tragedy. I don't want to ever know.

Addiction is an illness frequently accompanied by undiagnosed mental illness. Depression is common, as is a history of abuse, and self esteem issues. Closing the book on Nic Sheff's struggles only to learn about a friend's loss of their beloved child to addiction and depression, is nothing short of shockingly sobering. On Friday morning when I share books with students as part of their class' requested "booktalks," the Sheffs' books will be included. While I've never subscribed to Nancy Reagan's Just Say No policy, I will do my best to make sure that children Know the reality and perils of drug experimentation and addiction. And then, Friday night I will attend the wake of a friend's child and do my part to offer consolation from the ultimate loss. We all fall down. I suppose that being surrounded by family and friends willing to support us, through our struggles and sorrows, is what allows us to keep picking ourselves up.

Turkey Pot Pie, sort of

While my appreciation for Thanksgiving is boundless, I was at the end of the line with bountiful leftovers. Inventorying my fridge, I came up with a few chunks of sweet potatoes, some mashed potatoes, a small amount of sautéed mushrooms from Saturday's strip steak meal and some gravy. I thought I had some turkey, but other than a lonely drumstick, that had all been consumed by my "good eater" friend, Peter. Since I was mentally committed to preparing some comfort food, and I am master of the creative use of leftovers, I decided to make use of a couple of chicken breasts instead. The end result of my ridiculously easy efforts may have been the best pot pie ever!

Here's my technique: Unroll a crust and place it into a deep pie dish - or be all overachieving and make your own dough for a two-crust pie. Combine an assortment of vegetables, meat and liquid (more about this in a minute) and place in pie crust. The amount of liquid varies and unfortunately, I didn't make any attempt at measuring. I generally try to balance the liquid (gravy or broth) with the mashed potatoes to create a balance between moist, yet able to retain its form when cut into. In addition to using my gravy for inside the pot pie, I made use of it as a kind of "poaching" liquid, cooking a couple of chicken breasts in it due to my lack of turkey. I can't say how long I let them simmer in the gravy...maybe 20 minutes or so? Once they cooled off a little, I cut them up into bite-sized pieces and added them to the vegetables already in the crust, along with some par cooked some baby carrots. I checked my ratio of solid to liquid, thinking that the gravy should reach about the halfway point in the pie dish to ensure a steamy deliciousness when cut into. Check.

At this point, I showed my oldest son what I was making and he immediately dubbed it "Thanksgiving Pie." Fine. If that's what you want to call it, go right ahead. I topped the gorgeousness with the second crust and rolled the edges together and did my best to make it look presentable. I've mentioned before that crust is not my thing, right? I cut a couple of slits in the top to allow some steam to release during baking, and placed my pie in the oven at 375 degrees. I again remembered to place a baking sheet on the rack below my pie to catch any errant drips - yeah, me! After about 30 minutes, I increased the temperature to 400 and gave the pie another 15 or 20 minutes to finish getting all brown and pretty. I then called my neighbors and asked if they were hungry...

While I took a quick shower, I let the pot pie cool a bit and settle. Freshly washed, I grabbed my pie, some arugula and a lemon, and headed next door for an impromptu Sunday DelSo dinner with Ken and Lori. Their wine, my pot pie and salad, and another satisfying weekend drew to a close. Life, my friends, is good. Get some!

Admit 2

or perhaps I should say two admissions.  This weekend, for the first time ever, I agreed to be described with two adjectives I generally wouldn't use to describe myself.  At least not publicly.  The first was at a party last night.  The house was cozy with food and beverages and many familiar faces.  It was a nice party and I'm glad I forced myself out of the house, despite my secret desire to cozy up in a cloud of cashmere and watch a Netflix which I'm suddenly paying $30 a month for..huh?

image from: www.unm.edu

Anyway, it was nice to spend some time with two of my fellow Vinoteca bloggers and I was frequently introduced by my co-writer (correct term?) and hostess, Claire, as a blogger.  I was asked a question I had never fielded before - "Why do I blog?"  With only a nanoseconds hesitation I responded: "because I'm a writer."  I don't even think I blinked.  And, I didn't even backpedal or attempt to qualify what I meant.  Damn.

Today I ran a modified version of the route for the Last Run, something I'll try to do one more time pre-event. Even though I never aspired to have a running partner, I thoroughly enjoy running with Chrissy.  It's awesome.  I've relented a little on my no-talking-while-running-stance and today we were talking about another woman runner, and I described her as a "serious runner."  Chrissy looked at me and said "Like you.  You're a serious runner."  Gulp.  That one was harder to swallow than the writer tag.  Maybe because running is newer, (I've been blogging here for almost 2 years!!) I'm not yet accustomed to belonging in this runner lifestyle.  You know me, I've embraced being illegitimate - it's what I know.  Smile.

In the car on the drive home, Chrissy and I talked about living in the moment as the ultimate expression of peace and balance.  Recognizing different parts of one's self is  an acknowledgement of who we are right now and, knowing who one is, is always worth the price of admission.

Fits and starts and finishes

I was a little worried about December. The holiday stuff was firmly in hand - presents had been purchased, cards ordered, the boys had even selected the Christmas Eve menu (ham and a roasted chicken) and theme (festive party in the afternoon), but the first day was rough.  Here's what happened after I went ahead and flipped the page on the calendar...

• a 14 year old (not the one I birthed) asked me if it was my "time of the month."
  
•  there were discussions about personal bleaching and drugs in high school from which I could not look away despite the mental discomfort (ouch!) they caused.  I had limited knowledge about one of those topics - care to guess which one?

• Quinn's brand new $360 eyeglasses fell off of his face on the playground and were promptly picked up and thrown by a classmate, apparently into a black hole, never to be seen again. Sigh.

But, then...

• Liam's appointment with his doctor proved that he has indeed grown by leaps and bounds. My skinny boy has gained 26 lbs in less than 10 months! Looks like he found my lost weight, huh? And it looks way better on him than it ever looked on me.
• I picked up an extra shift at the Gastropub and saw an old friend I have been out of touch with for many years. And ate a terrific pizza - props to Dan McBain for his skills.

• Saturday I went to the Crossings to run a 5k and had a couple of delightful surprises. The first was the presence of an unexpected fan at the start line whose pre-race hug provided warmth and inspiration for 3.12 miles. So far. I truly expect these feelings to last much longer. As I finished the race with my usual final kick, I overtook the woman I had been following for much of the last mile or so. When I checked out the printed results a short while later (personal best, 27:12, barely third in my age group!), I realized that my pacer was a childhood friend. Having two special friends, one from elementary school and one fairly new, present made the day, and the race, incredibly memorable for me.

Each day, each month, holds new promise and I find that the finish of one thing is just the beginning of something else.  And despite fits, the starts and finishes often have a way of  making me smile.

Thankful for November

While the 11th month of the year contains merely a single day for us to officially express our thanks, I feel compelled to acknowledge my appreciation for the past 30 days. What an amazing month November was! The warmer than usual weather provided the perfect backdrop to 30 days of fun and productivity - one of my favorite couplings.

I don't know how I neglected to devote an entire post to the best (it beat out the Sausage Fest by a link nose) party of the year - my brother, Tommy's,  Big Bourbon Birthday Bash celebrated 11/10-11/13 in Syracuse. Yes, it really took nearly 3 days to celebrate a non-milestone birthday!  His actual birthday is 11/11 so you can think of it as 1 day of festivities per 11 in the date.  Or simply think of it as a slightly selfish, valiant attempt at reliving our youth - with the benefit of disposable income. 

There's the gang - ALL these years later...

The theme of indulgence was definitely present with the trail runs I took this past month - Saratoga State Park, Albany Muni, Colonie's Crossings - no hilly path was exempt from my plodding feet.  You know I love running, but this trail running thing is kind of like running with the random cartwheel thrown in to keep things interesting.  Challenging and endorphin -inducing. 

And, then there was Thanksgiving...my dinner with the boys was scheduled for the Saturday after the actual holiday and I think we had an excellent dinner.  The food was delish (don't you find this to be an easy meal to prepare?) and we shared our table with an appreciative friend - as the season demands.  And those turkey-stuffing-cranberry-arugula-mayo sandwiches always make me wonder why I don't roast a turkey more often. 

As the month drew to a close, I found it impossible to recall a better November.  Ever.  Friends, physical activity, food...all means to share love and honor life.  This must be the reason Thanksgiving precedes the holidays that have come to represent  a consumption of things, rather than a celebration of spirit. 

Bethlehem Turkey Trot

We've already established that Thanksgiving can mean a lot of things to different people For some, the holiday tradition may include a physical activity to  stimulate the appetite or to help eliminate some stress. There are a number of morning races in the region, but I opted for the Delmar version because it is fairly new and thus, not too crowded.

I got to bed pretty late Wednesday, after working more hours in a single day than I had cumulatively slept in the previous three nights. Surprisingly for me, I wasn't particularly nervous pre-race, no jitters at all other than the frequent peeing kind. Come on - that happens to you, too, right? I was in good spirits as the holiday dawned and was very comfortable as I started the run.

There wasn't official timing available but I borrowed a friend's watch and did some self-timing. The start was rough because of general bottle necking and the presence of many dogs and strollers. I'd estimate that the first 1/3 to 1/2 mile was mostly spent positioning myself at a comfortable pace. My first mile was a decent enough 9:17, my second was slightly quicker and then I forgot to time my third. I felt pretty in the zone, though. After running the golf course a couple of times a week recently, the flatness of this course was a real lack of challenge treat. My finish time was 27:30 which shaved 40 seconds off my last race time and previous personal best*.

The race was really fun and I completely enjoyed seeing former and current students, silly costumes, and turkey fryers at the ready in a number of front yards. There was typical  enthusiastic Delmar support from spectators and I loved seeing the families and groups of friend running together. (Sorry, Donna!  Next year we'll stick together or at least have a plan to meet, post-race.)  Next up is the Jingle Jog at the Crossings in Colonie on Saturday, December 3rd. I'm looking for two more bib numbers before the end of the year which will make 2011, by far, my most productive year of running.

*sounds way less uptight than "personal record," don't you think?

Black Forest Bastards

Decisions, decisions...

No, I'm not talking about my brother and myself - I'm referring to the cakes I made recently.  Last weekend I spent some time with a group of very old friends celebrating my brother's birthday on the fantastic date of 11/11/11. The birthday boy has a large, comfortable home and a liquor cabinet which speaks of his fondness for bourbon and dark rums. He also has a hot tub, which came in handy both after the hilly runs I took with our friend James, and in the evening after one of our delicious group effort meals.

My one (semi)homemade contribution to the weekend's menu was my brother's birthday cake. When we were children, our mother would accept requests for special dinners and cakes on our birthdays and my brother always seemed to choose Black Forest Cherry Cake aka Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte. Although I must have seen her bake this cake a dozen times over the years, I had no interest in duplicating her steps precisely, a statement which can be used to summarize our entire relationship, incidentally. But, I digress...

Over at Vinoteca, I pretty much gave the directions to replicate this Meder family recipe.  The most important things are the Kirschwasser and the cherries.  And being with people you love.