I have lived in Memphis since I was four years old, but there are some parts of the city I did not spend much time in. Often residents completely overlook areas designated for tourists. I did not have a high opinion of downtown Memphis when I was growing up. The architecture from the 1800's with crumbling red brick walls and chipping paint was not my cup of tea. It was too modern! I longed for the swirls of iron, hanging Spanish moss off branches, and stone flourishes in New Orleans. Downtown also had an air of adult entertainment, something which I was sheltered from as a child. Now as an adult, I have fond memories of the few times I did end up downtown. I went to many unique, world class exhibits in the Pyramid that filled me with excitement and wonder at treasures from the past. My favorite being a tie between ancient Egypt and the Romanovs. I also went to my first concert there (Britney Spears). I went on a field trip in elementary school to take a ride on the Mississippi in a River Boat. Later as a teenager, I would sneak with a friend into a building to watch the sunset melt into our river from the top of 20 story building roof. I would go by the banks of the river to watch the grey, green, and blue currents flow at an alarming speed.
I have been truly blessed to have been able to work downtown since 2012. I get to explore it even more at my own pace and with my own interests.

Downtown (and Memphis as a whole) is revitalizing. We're three breaths in. An article for the top 20 under 30 came out in the Memphis flyer last week, featuring a friend of mine from elementary school. It is bizarre when your generation finally gets into the spotlight. We're grown up. One thing that stood out to me in the article was that when this group of bright, young adults got together, they chatted about Memphis entering a "Renaissance." I could go on and on about deconstructing that idea, but I  agree. It may take a little while more for our city to feel it, but greatness is ahead of us. This may seem a little too lofty and idealistic, but you have to  start somewhere. One place this is felt is all the ingenuity and fervor with our growing restaurant, hospitality, arts, and food scene. It's exciting, and I am happy to explore it.

Last night I finally made my way to Tamp & Tap, a unique combination of local beers and food with fresh coffee. This place had been on my radar to try for quite a while, but I never quite made it over. I had heard great, amazing things about the food so I tried the "Stanley" described as brioche, smoked turkey, fontina, candied bacon, arugala, roasted artichoke aioli.

The inside of the sandwich was heavenly. Sweeter than I imagined when I read the description, but that did not matter. My favorite flavor in this sandwich had to be the pickled red onions. Are you saying bleh? "Pickled" is one of my least favorite words. It calls to mind sour and cold. This was sweet, sharp, and tangy. A long time ago, my sister took me to a now long gone Russian restaurant and bar, Cafe Samovar. We drank and I distinctly remember an appetizer involving pickled red cabbage and bread. The flavor was extremely reminiscent bringing back a wonderful memory between two sisters that often did not get along. My only criticism was the bread crumbled to nothing as I ate it. Maybe it was little overly toasted? Maybe my hunger was so ferocious it destroyed the bread? It didn't stop me from eating every last bite.

My husband and I enjoyed Wiseacre's Ananda and High Cotton's Sawmill Stout. Out of the two, I uncharacteristically enjoyed the stout. It really did just taste like chocolate. Both are excellent brews.

Today, my adventure continued to another downtown bordering on midtown spot, Arepa and Salsa. I had unsuccessfully tried to convince a friend to go with me before, but today I went with a coworker who also enjoys the occasional treat. Shout out to Jenny at wonderfully-complex.com. Go read her blog! Go, go! She graciously agreed to come with me and even split an appetizer and our entrees. Now onto the meal. For starters, I tried a freshly blended melon drink. Freshly blended fruit juices are one of my all time favorite drinks to get at Hispanic restaurants. I always get the watermelon Sandia over at Los Tortugas in Cordova. This was similar in flavor, texture, and sweetness.

In my experience, melon drinks just pair well with Latin food. The subtlety and mellowness of it matches well with corn cakes, black beans, cheeses... that sort of fare. I ordered the UFOs: "mini fried cheese arepas with Latin style sour cream dipping".

They were so light and airy! Crisp on the outside, creamy on the inside. You could definitely taste the cornmeal. Like creamy fried cornbread. Delicious. Next up, I ordered the Pernil tostones: "fried plantain stuffed with roasted pork, lettuce, tomato, avocado, cabbage salad and house sauce." Jenny ordered the Veggie Queen Arepas: "black bean, salty cheese, eggplant, lettuce, tomato, avocado, and house sauce." Jenny was kind enough to go halvesies.

If you say the word "plantain", I say, "yes". A sandwich made out of plantains? Triple yes. With avocado and pork?? Listen, that's just too many yeses. It was awesome. The veggie arepa was also great. The eggplant was cut nice and thin and paired well with all the flavors. The outside was nice and crisp. Jenny remarked that she's not even a big veggie person, but it just sounded too good to pass up. She also gave big thumbs up to the sauce. We rolled ourselves out of there and back to the office, thoroughly satisfied. 
These two new(ish) places officially Steffi-discovered.

I love to cook, but recipes intimidate me. If you worked with me at a certain cupcake shop, you suffered many of my culinary failures. I had to redo multiple recipes several times. Cooking is indeed a science. My failures are truly an embarrassment for me as I am known for my cooking, but they come frequently if you give me written instructions to follow.

This may seem like a cop out, but I wonder if it has to do with my learning style. I grew up preferring not to measure, but to learn from trial and error. This is the easiest way for my mind to make those crucial connections. My parents when I was growing up also suffered through many horrible cooking experiments where I tried my hand at different regional cuisine and spice combinations. I cringe thinking back to the horrible dishes that they ate with a smile on their face, offered suggestions, and encouraged me to continue on. This is especially painful because my background is one defined by food. I am from New Orleans - one of the food capitals of the world.

My cousin teased me when I sent her my recipe for crawfish bisque. It involved "handfuls", "pinches", and a lot  of things"to taste". That's my style. In my defense, I have to immerse myself in the taste, feel, and sight of food. Cooking requires a lot of physical involvement of the senses. My tummy rumbles thinking about smelling food on the stove top and adding spices in small increments to my dishes to achieve the perfect blend of flavors. If I were fastidious, I would document my food more diligently with photos and my processes. Alas, this is also my failure. I am hoping that I can turn some of that around.

French cooking is remarkably well known for its richness and blend of flavors. Creole and Cajun cooking is a derivative; thankfully, one that I can handle. Real French cooking scares me with its precision, high stakes, and temperamental qualities. When I think of real French cuisine, I think of two things. One is a quote from one of my all time favorite movies, Tampopo, when a homeless gourmet laments, "French cooking is a constant battle with burns!" in regards to a boeuf bourguignon that got a little charred. The other is Babette's Feast. We read the book and watched the film in a course I took, Studies in World Literature: Food for Thought. Babette makes an insanely rich (in every sense of the word) meal for her guests. The description of the dishes make your mouth water, and I desperately want to recreate them. These two fictions share a connection to me. For friends, I once prepared an "eat-along" dinner to Tampopo. I made dishes featured in the film and served them to my friends as they watched the film for the first time. I didn't document this or write my recipes... and surely, I could do it again with more precision. I will, one day. Which lends to the next. I would love to recreate and serve the dishes to the film Babette's Feast to friends. Despite my hesitation to attempt the difficult recipes, I will do it. Through my failures, I will become stronger and better. I will try not to be afraid. And maybe this time, I will actually take notes as I go along.

Sometimes you have to share yourself to really connect with others. This is hard for me. I put up a wall; I protect myself, and I'm a "mama bear". Today, I want to share something close to me.

That's my little boy, Alexander.
We had an ice storm come through yesterday.  He loves ice and being outside. He is an explorer. He doesn't hesitate to march his tiny steps to the clear, dripping mini icicles hanging from the deep green leaves of the sweet olive outside our house and reach his hand out to them. I wanted to throw him a woodland themed party since he is such a little outdoorsman. Submitted for your approval is his first birthday party:

The invitations I used an Etsy designer, and they came out perfect. I refrained from putting our actual ones on there for privacy reasons, but they came out just like the featured picture above. I loved the color scheme so I used it throughout the party.

The Cake is a chocolate cake where I replaced the eggs with bananas. The ice storm made get creative since I couldn't run out and get eggs. It turned out very moist and the banana paired well with the fudge flavor. The frosting is a homemade whipped cream. The fox is made of fondant- I tried to get it to match the one on the invitation.

The goodie bags I made with brown paper lunch bags and magazine cut outs. I eyeballed the sizes of the different parts. You could say it gives them quirky, individualistic charm... or that I ran out of time. The contents of the goodie bags I got from ordering online (Amazon) and our local zoo gift shop. The owl at the top is lip gloss. There is also a little flashlight.

The menu followed suit with a woodsy camping feel.
Ants on a Log: Celery, natural smooth peanut butter, and raisins
Acorns: Hershey kisses glued with melted chocolate to mini vanilla wafers and a chocolate chip on top
Hickory smoked "campfire" hotdog bar, complete with toppings.
Hash brown "nests" with cheese, bacon, and orange bell pepper "eggs"
Mango Orange juice blend with fresh orange slices

He had a great time and played his heart out with all of his new toys. I was afraid at first that maybe he would be too overwhelmed or not get much out of it, but he was a social butterfly and LOVES his presents. If he's happy, I'm happy.

Someone once told me that your favorite season is the one you were born in. I suspect that doesn't apply to everyone, but it holds true for me. Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas are the perfect holiday trifecta, and my birthday comes just 6 days before the start of these celebrations.
I get why people don't like it. Commercialism and colder weather collide faster than you can say, "Bah, humbug." (Are they really playing Christmas music already?!) I myself am a realist and a cynic, but something inside me loves holidays. I love the changing hues. I love the mysterious smell of burning wood wafting from an invisible chimney miles away. I love seeing pumpkins appear on perfectly stacked hay.  I love sharing an amazing feast with family. I love picking out the perfect present for the humbugs in my life.

I plan on doing two desserts for Thanksgiving this year. They are both new: a pumpkin chocolate chip bread pudding and pecan meringue cookies. The cookies came about from a somewhat failed attempt at a Tea Room recipe.

Use the "pie crust" portion of this recipe and scoop spoonfuls onto a greased plan. Place a whole pecan on top. Bake.

They came out light, crisp, and melt-in-your-mouth. The whole pecan lent a velvety texture and a nice crunch. A perfect afterthought to any Thanksgiving meal.

Great cuisine is often associated with a region, culture, or people. Of course, food transforms over time with different influences weaving their way and becoming staples. Tomatoes have had a major impact on Italian food, despite originating in America. Likewise, pizza as we know it is also very Americanized. I am sure most of you have fond memories of your mom or dad's spaghetti recipe.  In our house, it was light ground turkey in a tangy red oregano tomato sauce over angel hair.

I was pleased to have a meal over at Aldo's Pizza Pies with some coworkers yesterday. I hadn't been there before, but I had heard good things. It was my luck that it happens to be downtown dining week. They had an excellent lunch deal for 10 dollars: salad, a slice, a drink, and dessert.

The salad was a huge portion. It was fresh and palateable, but not mind blowing. My coworkers got entree salads that looked great. Not surprisingly, the real star here was the pizza. The slice of the day featured sun dried tomatoes, artichokes, bacon, and spinach. All the ingredients were fresh and tasty. It was the perfect balance of savory, salty, and sweet. I will definitely be back for the pizza. They were out of the cannoli so I got ice cream. While yummy, it was disappointing. I love cannoli. Still, a lot of bang for your buck.

Has a friend ever made you listen to a song on an album you haven't heard before? Maybe they rave about the rhythm section or a particular verse. Somehow though, it doesn't wow you. It doesn't make you get up and tap your toes the same way it does for your friend. But since you are an awesome friend, you are determined to give this song another listen so that maybe you can appreciate the nuances you missed. Finally it grows on you. Those nuances get you rocking out.

Memphis grew on me like a song. There are so many great holes in the wall- things that are easily missed.

I went to a thrift shop with my best friend, and she handed me, "The Tea Room: Tennessee Style." Its brown checkered cover reminded me of old cook books that are common in Louisiana.  Intrigued, I flipped through its aged pages. In the Foreward, Putt Cummings and Judy Davis explain that their customers were clamoring for the restaurant's recipes since its inception despite its recent opening. It's dated November, 1975.

Admittedly, this gem has been sitting on my book shelf for a few months. I have been meaning to try recipes out of it since we found it. Tonight was finally the night.

Of course,  I had to update the recipe a little bit. Instead of cream of mushroom soup, I sautéed diced portobello mushrooms with minced onion and garlic in butter. I added a mix of 85/15 ground angus and ground lamb in the pan. I added some heavy whipping cream and three egg yolks (A dessert out of the cook book called for three egg whites and I hate wasting yolks). I topped it with mashed potatoes in a casserole dish. At the grocery store, my husband Jesse picked out an Irish cheese. The nutty, mild flavor paired well with the slightly gamey nuances in the lamb and the portobello mushrooms. Overall, it received rave reviews. It isn't hard to imagine the patrons in the restaurant enjoying this meal nearly 40 years ago.

My dining room table has survived a small fire. At the head of this oblong, medium brown wooden table there is a square that has been cut out and replaced. For a long time, I held on to the pale yellow, charred nursery rhyme book used to put it out. It's gone now.

A lot has happened at this table. Some good things, some bad. Growing up, we were required to eat together as a family for dinner every night- most nights at that table.

I have instilled in me an affection for eating with family and friends. I love feeding people, sharing food, and trying new things. I love looking to history for inspiration. Cooking and, of course, eating are two of my favorite hobbies.

I moved to Memphis when I was four from Harahan, LA, a small suburb of New Orleans. My Creole grandmother was very serious about her cooking. She wasn't afraid to whack your knuckles with an old wooden spoon if you interfered in the kitchen. She was an inspiration, and my family still uses and covets her recipes.

We occasionally did eat out even though we enjoyed cooking. One of our favorite spots was the Camelia Grill. My dad's favorite dish to order was a fluffy, yellow omlette topped with hardy chili and cheese with a "mocha freeze": a coffee and chocolate milkshake. I like to replicate this dish to remind me of my other home.