Category Archives: Random Thoughts

Weekend Moments, June 8

It’s been a very long time (years!) since I’ve done a weekend moments video. It’s just bits of the weekend, captured with my iPhone – going back through these old videos always makes me so happy. So I’m hoping to re-start this tradition!

Highlights of this weekend:

  • We visited Licha’s, which usually we love, but this time there were a zillion flies, and the food just wasn’t as good as usual, so meh.
  • My parents came to visit! We met them for breakfast at Mi Tierra in San Antonio (Pork with red chile! Mariachis! Candy!), then shopped around the mercado for a bit before heading back to Austin.
  • I made this really weird snack of crackers with butter, strawberry jam, and salsa. It’s really good. I think it comes from this memory of being at my friend’s house when I was a kid, and we had saltines with butter and peach salsa for a snack. Weird but good.
  • We celebrated our friend David’s graduation with an awesome crawfish boil at their place. Kate of course made amazing muffulettas, as if a giant table of crawfish wasn’t enough. ;)
  • We had dinner with my parents at an oldie-but-goodie for us: Schlotzsky’s. Did you grow up eating Schlotzsky’s? Man, I love that bread. And this one had a crazy futuristic soda machine that is probably in every fast food place now, and I just don’t know it. You can choose like ANY soda ever. I ended up getting vanilla Barq’s root beer, which was so good.
  • We had breakfast on Sunday morning with my parents at Counter Cafe. I had cheesy grits with collards and bacon, topped with poached eggs. After a few good shakes of salt, it was pretty good. Justin and my dad chose the right thing – straight up biscuits and gravy.
  • Sunday was super lazy. I cooked up some chard and eggplant and rice and bits of things for dinner, then we watched Game of Thrones. Things be gettin’ crazy up in Westeros, yo.

I hope you all had a great weekend!

Weekend Moments, June 8, 2015 from Crystal Esquivel on Vimeo.

Corners of my home

corner2

Just another lovely corner. There are the red candles that remind us of church and the Hotel Havana in San Antonio. There’s the window that looks out over the pool, and the stack of first-year editions of Everyday Food that I forget to cook from. There’s the Lone Star bike art that Mia and Josh gave us or Christmas, and the stack of old books that I’ve collected from thrift stores just because they look cool. There’s a stack of Kinfolk and Trouvé and Lapham’s Quarterly and Toast and Gather Journal, just a small part of my giant collection of beautiful publications. The stack is topped with a paperweight, which is an old newspaper letterpress weight that Justin found somewhere. There’s a set of leather letter punches that I got for Justin’s birthday in Portland, and the little porcelain and brass jar that Nick brought back for me from Qatar. There’s the handmade recipe box that Logan’s mom gave to me after I swooned over her recipe box that was filled with tattered and torn recipes from years and years ago. On top of that is a hand-carved textile wood block that we got in Santa Fe. And underneath it all are books – book after book of recipes and food writing and all the things that make my brain happy.

Oh my God, what if you wake up some day, and you’re 65, or 75, and you never got your memoir or novel written; or you didn’t go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years because your thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness and staring off into space like when you were a kid? It’s going to break your heart. Don’t let this happen. Repent just means to change direction–and NOT to be said by someone who is waggling their forefinger at you. Repentance is a blessing. Pick a new direction, one you wouldn’t mind ending up at, and aim for that. Shoot the moon.

– Anne Lamott

There is no passion to be found playing small – in settling for a life that is less than you are capable of living.

– Nelson Mandela