New squared

Those of you living in and around Albany may be aware that there's a new bar or two in town. What makes me especially happy is that said new bars have two things that are very important to me - good beer and outdoor drinking space. The latter has been seriously lacking in our fair city. Tonight I had occasion to try out one of the new joints - Stout, down in the warehouse district, yup, I'm jumping on the bandwagon of calling it a district - with a new friend. While I'll say it might not have been the best day to share a beer with someone who is also a Big 10 alum but not a Buckeye, the company was gracious in the face of my pain, the tap selection was good (Magner's cider on a hot day ... heaven) and the breeze through the giant patio doors was lovely. I'd heard some grumblings about seven dollar beers, but they are 20 oz drafts and I didn't at all feel that we'd spent too much for a couple of rounds with good conversation in a nice setting. We're not talking coors light here folks. I did not try the food, choosing instead to obtain my sustenance in liquid form, so I can't weigh in there.

All in all, I'm a fan of new.

I need strong booze part II

I just looked at the title for my post from the morning, and it made me laugh out loud. The same rings true, but in a different way now! I've always been prone to a touch of headstrong independence, and those of you who are regular readers may have noticed a heightened note of this in recent posts. Indeed, Green Peccadilloes has evolved a bit. I wrote a while back that I'd lost a bit of inspiration, that I didn'tfeel like I was telling much of a story beyond what's for dinner. I've been writing a lot lately because I do feel like I have more of a story to tell - the mission is the same, to find a balance in life with a focus on good food and good drinks. But now I'm not just balancing a busy work schedule and trying to cook a nice meal, I'm balancing all that plus being a homeowner on my own. I'm certainly dealing with managing the rigors of homeownership in my own way, from buying a reel mower (which I love) so I don't have to deal with mower repairs to trimming hedges in the middle of the work day because that's when I had a second. I hope that this new narrative woven in with the rest of GP keeps folks interested and that my dear readers don't mind a little deviation now and again.

Today was no different. While standing up high on a ladder in the back yard, with Wonderpup barking nervously from behind the glass door and limb trimmers held high over my head I thought maybe I should change the title of the blog to "Not becoming a statistic..." I thought about all those silly accidents that land idiots like me in the ER on sunny holiday weekends and it seemed fitting. Then I proceeded to start cutting down a cedar with a bow saw. So when I got the call to head out to the sticks for some drinks, food and pool time, I bolted from my yard duties like a superhero running to the rescue. Seemed the safer thing to do.

Back from the hilltowns, I felt inspired again and, as I was unbearably hot, I endeavored to put in the air conditioner. Of course I grabbed the big one and began the long ascent from the basement to my second floor bedroom. I'll spare you the details, but let it suffice to say I managed to not drop it out the window, but I'm a tad more bloodied and battered than when I started.

But I did it. So there.

To treat myself, I decided to forego the bitters idea (for now) and whip myself up a quick, warm rhubarb compote to dump over ice cream. I didn't care that I'd put a bunch of work in to end up with about two tablespoons worth, I just really wanted this yummy treat.

I started to simmer the rhubarb in water and sugar, with a touch of nutmeg and cinnamon. Then I wandered upstairs to start this post. My bedroom was already getting nice and cool, so I settled in to enjoy the reprise. That is, until I got far enough along in the post to remember where it was going in the first place ... I'll just let a picture speak volumes tonight:

I need strong booze

The word "Everclear" is enough to send chills down my spine. Not only is it because of the band that should have just stopped at the one-hit, but more terrifyingly, it brings back images of 'jungle juice', 'punch' and every other disgusting, stupor-inducing mixture frat boys can come up with. Shudder.

I'm not sure if I've discussed my love for Imbibe magazine here yet. Probably, because I do love it. Anyway... I was sitting up at the lake, hiding from the rain and reading Imbibe when I discovered a recipe for rhubarb bitters. How cool! And - problem solved!

Making homemade bitters, however, requires grain alcohol, like Everclear. Searching back through the haze of Freshman year, I recall the aforementioned frat boys taking trips to other states to buy Everclear because you couldn't get it here. I have to be honest, I've never, ever sought the stuff out, so I'm not certain if this little adventure is going to require some cross border action or not. I can say that I might be a little embarrassed asking for grain alcohol at 30-something.

A quick trip home.

It's quite warm out and the heat snuck up on me, so I don't have my A/C or fans all set up yet. I decided to run home mid-day to make sure Wonderpup wasn't sweltering and that he got a good water break. Leaving work at 1pm on the Friday before a holiday weekend with full intentions of returning is a HUGE test of will power. I'm going back, I swear.

While I was letting my pup chug some water, eat some ice cubes and prowl around the back yard, I decided to multi-task and take care of some yard work. The garden got a quick drink. I picked up some sticks from my giant tree that seems to be shedding them like nuts. And then I did this. In work clothes. In flip flops on a wicker chair.

What can I say, the branches laying on my house were driving me nuts. So down they came. I am determined to one day have a backyard that produces both food and relaxing enjoyment for me. Someday. Ok, back to work....

Rhubarb ideas?

The previous owner of my house planted one rhubarb plant. Last year, I spent a bunch of time trying to come up with something new and different to do with it, then got busy and missed it altogether. What a waste! So, one plant isn't a ton. One of my very favorite things in the whole wide world is strawberry-rhubarb pie, but I know myself, I won't find time to make one. (anyone want to make one for me?? Please??) I toyed with compote for ice cream, but unless I supplement w/ farmer's market rhubarb (which means remembering to buy some before mine goes bad), I don't really have enough. I'm intrigued by a savory idea - anyone ever do something totally unique with the stuff?

No good deed goes unpunished

One thing that unquestionably makes my day is a little dog park time with my pup. He's been an unflappable companion and makes me smile every single day. He even loves to hang out in the kitchen with me, but I suspect that's for selfish reasons.

We haven't been able to hit up the park in quite a while due to all the rain and the inevitable mud pits that come along with it. Today was a challenge and there was nowhere I wanted to be more than in the sunshine at the park with Wonderpup. I had planned to work late, but instead I snuck home to whisk my guy off to an impromptu play date as a mental health break for me and a "thanks for being a buddy" treat for him.

Apparently, the mud puddles are not dried up ... I wish I could say this was the worst of it, but then he discovered full head/mud immersion.

Rain and chocolate does a soul good

I can honestly say I've had better days. Or weeks. Or Springs. Sometimes, though, when personal and professional pressures just keep on compounding and you think you've about hit your breaking point, it's amazing how the smallest thing can get you to take a deep breath. For me, that thing often involves food.


Take my experience this afternoon. I'm working on one of those projects that can just hang over you. The Type-A in me wants to work on it forever, and there's enough info out there to do so, and the rest of me just wants to throw my hands up and say enough is enough. (I'm hoping what I actually submit strikes the appropriate balance...) Plus, like the great big cloud currently hanging over the Capitol, I have my own big cloud hanging over me this week. By about 3pm today, the weight of both of these things was nearly too much and I decided to get up from my desk and take a quick walk outside. The aforementioned cloud (the real one, not the figurative one) was looming large and seemed to follow me down Pearl St. Although I was sans umbrella and picked up my step a bit, I kind of appreciated its presence. Behind it I could see slightly brighter sky and that gave me a little hope with respect to my figurative cloud. Plus, I love the smell of impending rain.


I scurried down the hill to a candy shop that I rarely frequent, but a snack was in order. I walked in thinking I wanted crunchy - nuts perhaps - and grabbed a bag of wasabi peas that were on sale. But then, as I stood at the checkout, my true desire - the one I didn't even know I had - called to me. Sorry I didn't think to snap a photo before devouring most of it, but $0.83 bought me a truly satisfying moment of pure joy. Pretzel, immersed in dark chocolate and generously caked with toasted coconut and toffee. Is my project done? No. Have my other stresses vanished? Not really. But thanks to this little salty, sweet, chocolate, unexpected moment of joy I can say the burden of both is at least temporarily lifted.