News Trend Dr Pepper Barbecue Sauce|Actual

For at least five years, this recipe for Dr Pepper barbecue sauce has been taking up valuable real estate inside my special tried-and-true-favorites recipe book.

Which is pretty darn nervy because I have never even once actually made it.

But for all these years, I've had a special place in my heart for this sauce. Whenever I'm giving this binder a good clearing out, and pitching the recipes that I don't truly love, I let this one stay, just because of that key ingredient:

Dr Pepper.

My family proudly boasts of a longstanding obsession with this drink of 23 flavors. Back in his wild youth, my husband used to buy an old-fashioned glass bottle of the good Doctor every afternoon as he walked home from high school. Strolling along the sidewalk in all kinds of Ohio weather, he would drink either in icy sips or overheated gulps. And each day, as he polished off his delicious beverage, he would toss the bottle into the neighbor's yard as he walked by.

Always the same neighbor. Always the same yard.

I mean, he wasn't exactly throwing Molotov cocktails, and this was the sixties after all. But I have always been a little bit shocked by his naughtiness and total lack of conscience. Don't let his pocket protectors fool you, people. He was quite the bad boy.

Would you like to check out a few photos of my husband during his rebellious youth? Go here.

Years passed. My mom quickly picked up on my husband's passion for Dr Pepper and whenever we came in to visit, she would stock up on plenty of the good stuff to keep him hydrated through the hot and sticky Midwestern summers.

As they grew, my daughters fell in love with Dr Pepper too. Countless family snacking sessions were punctuated with the snap! And fizzzz of a fresh can being opened and poured between two or three glasses as sisters shared a drink.

And I worked through a decade-long devotion to Diet Dr Pepper which I considered then and now to be truly the nectar of the gods.

Around here, drinking Dr Pepper is a time-honored family tradition, so when I stumbled across this recipe for a DP-based barbecue sauce, I printed it, filed it, and waited for the right day to give it a try.

Though I never expected I'd wait five years, that day finally came. Today.

* * * * *

Ingredients:

1 cup minced onion

seperempat cup vegetable oil

1 1/dua cups Dr Pepper

1 can crushed tomatoes, about 15 ounces

1/2 cup orange juice

seperempat cup cider vinegar

1/dua cup honey

1/dua to 1 teaspoon cayenne

salt to taste

This is the kind of recipe that makes me grateful for my pantry. I keep a fairly wide collection of spices, vinegars, oils, hot sauces, and sweeteners on board so that when a new recipe strikes, odds are good that I already have what I need.

Sure enough, all I needed to buy for this barbecue sauce was a fresh bottle of Dr Pepper, and more orange juice so my fourth-born would not find a practically empty OJ bottle rattling around in the fridge where her favorite beverage is supposed to be.

* * * * *

Directions:

1. Heat the vegetable oil in a pot over medium-high heat. Add the onions and saute for 4-lima minutes, stirring often.

Dua. When the onions are just beginning to brown, add the remaining ingredients and stir well to combine. Simmer for 30 minutes.

3. Pour the sauce into a blender or food processor and puree it until it is smooth. I used an immersion blender which worked, as usual, like a charm.

4. Put the sauce into a saucepan, bring to a simmer and continue to simmer, uncovered, for 1-2 hours.

The sauce will store for several weeks in the fridge

Source: Simply Recipes

Now I happened to whip up a double batch of this sauce today, so about half of it went into the fridge as the recipe suggests.

But the other half marched directly out to the waiting hot coals of my Weber grill and was put to work on a mess of chicken tenderloins.

The finished product was magical.

So magical in fact, that I dove into my dinner with abandon, completely forgetting that I wanted to catch a photo of my full plate.

Here then, is most, but not all, of my plate of Dr Pepper Barbecue Sauce chicken.

Trust me, I will not wait five more years to make it again.

News Trend Home Tour: Patio Life|Actual

^ One of the great luxuries in life, I suppose, is a patio.

Fresh air and sunshine; comfortable places to sit and eat, a patio marries a home's interior to the out-of-doors and I count myself very lucky to have one.

^ A proper patio has a floor of some sort. I've monkeyed around with gravel and bark and brick patios as well as the original concrete pad out back that came with our house, but in one way or another, they all drove me mad.

So when my mother died and left me some money, I knew just what to do. I paved over my front patio with big, beautiful slabs of slate, a more rustic version of the slate stonework laid in the front hall of the house where I grew up. A lot about that house drove my mom nuts, but she always loved that stonework and I'm happy I could replicate it here. She was a patio fanatic herself, and I know she would approve.

^  Seating matters.

We often gather here in the evenings as my husband and daughters trudge home from their busy days out in the world, and let's be honest: everyone wants a comfortable spot. So I pull up enough chairs and spread around the cushions so that we all can have a soft and cozy seat.

And let's be honest about this, too: Gracie rarely lies on the ground. Ever the princess, she usually takes up more than her fair share of the couch and needs to be coaxed to properly share the space with her humans.

^ A table is useful. My husband built this one out of his supply of pallet wood, and I coated it with several layers of outdoor Varathane to stand up to the moisture of the Pacific Northwest.

Some days, my table is open for the drink glasses and small plates that collect around our early evening snack times. Other days, it's heaped with plants. Gracie prefers the snacky days and loves the easy access of the low table. We are always working on her self-control.

This summer, I'm experimenting with weather-proof metal trays as a safe place to set down our phones and tablets. Not only do they protect electronics from plant debris and the inevitable puddles that come from daily waterings, but they also give me a target to toss my phone which makes finding it again all that much easier.

^ I personally am a fool for a swing. Found this IKEA model at my local thrift store a few years back and my patio life is vastly improved. I sit here while Gracie mows down her dinner, and she knows perfectly well that she can't touch a tidbit of kibble until I sit down in the seat and give her the magic word: "Okay."  Then she is free to attack her bowl, and believe me, she does.

A rug is a nice addition to a patio, and lately, quite a trendy one at that. I like the concept, and used rugs with abandon on my old brick patio. What can I say, they helped keep down the weeds that grew between the bricks. Now that I have my marvelous stones, I don't feel a need to cover them up with a rug. But here on the original aggregate porch, a rug to cozy up my favorite corner still suits me just fine.

^ Though I mostly prefer minimal decor - read that cutesy knick-knacks - indoors as well as out, I'm a firm believer that every room needs an edited collection of small things to create interest and tell a few stories. My mom collected birdhouses and this turquoise model was my favorite of hers; so glad it's mine now. The carved wooden bird I have had since the days of '80s country chic, but to me the simple silhouette and streamlined design hold up well to this day. Scented geraniums are the outdoor equivalent of an outdoor diffuser, and the metal tray is another safe zone for my ever-in-the-line-of-danger phone.

And suspended above, because I am a fan of hangy things too, are bronze bells and a white ceramic wind chime. God forbid that the chime would ever actually ring, because it wouldn't take much movement to break that sphere and let's be honest, I just like how it looks.

^ More objets d'art: from left to right, my husband's collection of walking sticks, an old-school wooden post box that used to serve as a drop-off and pick-up place during my days as a hard core Girl Scout leader, and my spider plant family who is staycationing on the front patio this summer.

^ Oh, a view is nice too, isn't it? Between the patio and the walkway, I built in two small planting areas for succulents and ground covers to scramble about, and left open sight lines to my rose garden beyond.

^ Though most gardens are meant to be viewed from the side, the areas close to walkways benefit from a top-down perspective. A low-lying bird bath, a Cuban pot with a ruffled rim, and you know, rocks, add visual interest for passersby.

^ We are lucky to have a deep front lawn. We're situated at the front of the neighborhood, and the developers cleverly set our house way back on its lot to greet the newcomers' eye with lots of space which lends the (misleading) appearance of a goodly estate.

On the down side, our back yard is a postage stamp but the long expanse of grass in front gives us the right balance of privacy and connection to the world going by.

^ And two more essential patio touches: wind chimes and string lights.

Our wind chimes have been merrily tinkling away out here for several summers now, but the string lights have been a mere fantasy until last weekend.

^ Last weekend, we were all standing around and trying to contrive the best way to hang them .

Pro tip: unscrew the light bulbs and set them safely aside until the wire is securely hung. Experience has taught me well that any attempts to hang the string with the bulbs screwed in place will result in broken light bulbs, gnashing teeth, and extra trips to Target.

We realized the wind chimes would need to give up their usual spot, and debates ensued about where to move them.

And that's when my husband said, "Oh, keep them close to the laundry room window (shown in the second photo above); I like to listen to them as I'm folding clothes.

Well. Who knew.

^ With summer in full swing, Gracie and I spend time out here every day,

reading

talking

napping

eating

or just plain lazing around.

When autumn comes, and the rains fall, the leaves swirl, and darkness creeps in earlier each day, we will cart off most of the patio furniture and move the potted plants to frost-free zones.

But Gracie and I will still spend time out here every day, all year round. When we get home from our walks, I'll serve my dog her dinner on the porch step, and then I'll sit down in the swing to watch her eat. If it's cold, I may lay out an old towel so she has a comfortable place to lie down. I may even grab myself a blanket to wrap up tight against the cold.

We will sit, cozy and warm.

We will feel the fresh air upon our faces, and we will watch the world go by, and we will dream of summer days to come.

And we will think what a grand thing it is to have a patio.

News Trend Meet Fiona|Actual

"Gracie, meet Fiona. Fiona, meet Gracie." Wagwagwagwagwagwagwagwagwag.

Casey

Bailey

Ranger

Ghillie

Gracie

and now Fiona

Back in 1986, a few weeks after moving to our merk spanking new house in a still-under-construction neighborhood, my husband and I brought home our first Irish Setter, Casey.

A few months later, new neighbors strolling by our house stopped to delightedly stare at our red-headed pup. "An Irish Setter!" they beamed at us. "We lost ours a few years back. Right now we have a smaller dog but you know what they say. 'Once you fall in love with a Irish Setter, you'll never be happy any other breed.'"

Sure enough, within a few years, the Andrews added a new Irish lass named Bailey to their family.

This afternoon, the Andrews were just returning home from picking up their new setter when they realized they were following our car into the neighborhood. As I pulled into my drive, they pulled in right next to me, and out from the back of their van popped this adorable little face.

And in all the thirty-plus years from that day to this, between the Andrews and the Streichers, there has always been at least one Irish Setter on the block and usually two.

Given that we live just a half-dozen homes apart, this is quite remarkable. Though they were wildly popular in the 1960s, you don't see that many Irish today. Well. Unless you're on our street.

What's more, our dogs' lives have been interwoven in such a way that when one of us has lost our beloved pets, the other family has carried the baton alone until a new dog came on board. It's been a lovely, special bond between our families and quite a treat for our neighbors to feast their eyes on not one but usually two charming Irish Setters prancing along the sidewalks or lying like mahogany-colored jewels upon our green grass lawns.

From inside the house, my two younger daughters heard the commotion - which consisted mostly of me gushing over sweet Fiona  - realized a new dog was in the mix, and came rushing out to greet Fiona for themselves.

Sadly, our perfect streak was broken for a few months back in 2017. After living a long, full life, our Ranger went to his reward in January of that year, and poor seven-year-old Ghillie suddenly fell ill and was gone by March.

These were sad days. But they didn't last long.

By July, a new dog came calling. The Andrews called me one Saturday morning to say they had just got wind of a homeless Irish girl who needed a new home. They would love to take her but the timing wasn't quite right, so would we like her? We quickly said yes. And that is how we got our Gracie.

Like Gracie, five-year-old Fiona was shuffled from one home to another too many times in her short life.  But those days are over, and this sweet girl has found her forever home with the Andrews.

Within a year, the Andrews sent out word on the local Irish Setter grapevine that they were now ready for their new pup.

They waited.

And waited.

And waited.

No Irish Setters to be found.

Until today, when their daughter found a listing for a five-year-old redhead at a shelter in Tacoma. Off dashed the Andrews to pick up their new dog, Fiona.

So tonight, once again on our street, the Streichers and the Andrews each have a beloved Irish Setter curled up and dozing at our feet, and all is right in the world.

We are so happy to meet you, Fiona. Welcome you to the neighborhood!

* * * * *

Here are some stories about how we got Gracie. Spoilers: The Andrews helped.

Surprise!

Red Beauty

Two Weeks In

Hunting Dog

Irish Inspiration

News Trend Gracie, Don't Read This|Actual

"I'll have whatever he's having. But make mine a double."

"Well, hello there, lovely lady. Come here often?"

 "What? He already paid for my treat? What a kind gentleman!"

The other day, I went to the Fremont Sunday Market.

You know, your typical Seattle upscale urban hipster farmer's market with tons of

fresh flower bouquets

macrame swings

organic raw honey

silver toe rings

shabby chic furniture And

tie dyed baby things.

Plus, of course, food stalls featuring tacos, Indian food, coffee drinks, macarons, veggie wraps And old school popsicles.

All of which were great.

But my favorite venue was the food truck from the Seattle Barkery featuring treats for dogs And their human friends too.

As I stood nearby, watching a constant parade of customers visit the truck, two thoughts collided in my mind:

What a wonderfully wacky world we inhabit where dogs can buy treats at a food truck.

And

I hope Gracie never, ever discovers that I came here without her.

News Trend My Homemade Cobb Salad|Actual

I was too rushed for rectangles tonight. I just arranged my toppings in a circle of mini -heaps. My husband always opts to distribute each ingredient evenly across his bed of lettuce, kinda like a pizza. I have no idea what this says about him, but I sincerely question his judgment.

Once upon a time, in my previous life as a swinging '80s public accounting professional, I fell in love with the Cobb salad.

My favorite female colleagues, all swinging accounting professionals in their own right, and I would often slip down to the City Tavern, a bistro-style restaurant on the street level of our rocking office tower at 33 West Monroe in Chicago's Loop, and snap up some Cobb salads to go.

Back upstairs, we would hole up in an open conference room or crowd around the desk in one of our offices, and excitedly crack open our styrofoam clamshells.

And there it would be, in all of its glory. A rectangular bed of crisp iceberg lettuce, upon which were balanced six smaller rectangles of finely chopped ingredients:

Carrots. Chicken. Tomatoes.

Bacon. Cucumbers. Hard-boiled eggs. .

Three vegetables and three proteins. Placed in an alternating pattern, with a generous serving of dressing on the side.

The City Tavern Cobb salad was, in a word, delicious.

And I have nothing but the fondest memories of eating them.

* * * * *

Fast forward a few years, skipping over the decade or two when my growing girls were not so keen on lettuce-based meals for dinner, and the Cobb salad has become a sentimental favorite at my table.

I'm not sure that my family exactly loves them, but they know that I do.

Especially during the summer, I love them for a lazy evening meal. Earlier in the day, I cook up the chicken and bacon in the panggang, keeping the heat (and mess) to an absolute minimum. Along with hard-boiling the eggs, I can get all the dirty work out of the way, and head back outdoors to play. Then, when the late afternoon sun is streaming into my kitchen, all that's left to do is chop a few harmless vegetables.

I've made a few refinements on the original City Tavern recipe that suit me well, and I'm always up for a bit of tinkering, depending on what I may find (or not find) in my refrigerator.

But here is my most favorite, tried-and-true version of the ever-delectable Cobb salad:

Ingredients:

Per person:

dua chicken tenderloins, roasted in the panggang and cubed.

Tiga strips of bacon, roasted in the panggang and cut into small strips.

2 hard-boiled eggs, cooled and cubed.

1/4 cup diced cheddar cheese

1 large carrot, washed and grated

1/2 cucumber, peeled, quartered, and sliced.

1/2 homegrown tomato, washed and cubed.

1 plateful of Boston lettuce, washed and torn

1/dua cup of homemade ranch dressing

Directions:

1. Preheat the panggang to 425 degrees. Place chicken and bacon in a cast iron skillet - if you're making modest quantities, they can share the same pan - and cook for about 20 minutes, till chicken is cooked through and the bacon is agreeably crispy. Cover and allow to cool to room temperature.

2.. Fill a saucepan with cold water; add the eggs and cook on high heat. Once boiling, turn the heat down to medium and cook for five minutes. Turn off the heat and let the eggs sit in the hot water for another five minutes, then flush with cold water and let the eggs sit in cold water for a third round of five minutes. Peel immediately, and pop them into the fridge.

3. Prepare the cheese, vegetables, and lettuce; park them in the fridge as well. If you can't get your hands on garden-fresh tomatoes, just skip over them and choose another veggie.

4. Just before serving, cut the chicken, bacon and eggs into bite-sized pieces. Pull everything out of the fridge and arrange each ingredient in a separate serving bowl. Serve with dressing on the side.

* * * * *

I know, that's a lot of bowls. But trust me, the table will look beautiful and each diner will have the fun of artfully arranging their ingredients just so upon their beds of lettuce.

And if you want to be extra cool, create little rectangles out of each ingredient, alternating proteins and vegetables upon your bed of lettuce.

Because according to this swinging '80s public accounting professional, that is definitely the way to go.

* * * * *

For the recipe of my homemade ranch dressing, stay tuned.

* * * * *

Ready for more stories about my most dearly beloved, tried-and-true homemade meals?

My Homemade Lasagna

My Homemade Macaroni and Cheese

My Homemade Spaghetti and Meatballs

My Homemade Grilled Cheese Sandwich

My Homemade Cold Tuna Noodle

My Homemade Beef Stir Fry

My Homemade Beef Stew

My Homemade Parmesan Chicken Nuggets

My Homemade Enchiladas

My Homemade Chicken Salad

My Homemade Cranberry Apple Crisp

My Homemade Pasta Primavera

My Homemade Pad Thai

My Homemade Quiche

My Homemade Potato Salad

My Homemade Cobb Salad

My Homemade French Toast

News Trend New Kid On The Block |Actual

On my last day in Danang, I decided to go out for a walk.

Ordinary as this may sound, it was quite the novel event. In Vietnam, one does not walk much of anywhere.

One rides. Motorbikes are the preferred mode of getting around.

But just this once, I left my rented Nouvo parked in the shady garage, and headed out to take a walk around the block.

^ This year, my daughter has moved out from the older neighborhoods of Danang City and taken an apartment across the river on the new side of town. New hotels, resorts and spas springs up right and left, as the tourist industry capitalizes on the beautiful sweeping South China Sea beach, and my daughter's high rise joins a bustling new area of residential homes and flats.

A tall stand of palms guards the entrance to my daughter's building.

^ Purple flowers against the white walls of this villa are punctuated by red letters from a nearby hotel  floating against the blue sky.

^ The first few homes are chic and deliciously designed. Geometric gates on stone pillars fringed with blooming vines offer a glimpse into this darling courtyard.

^ Pink and white bougainvillea - seemingly the official flower of Southeast Asia - flow toward a tiny alley, one of the few visual reminders that this is not an elegant American neighborhood.

^ Orange flowers against a blue wall with a pair of floating French doors. Though still charming, this residence on the other side of the block is older and less well kept than the others.

^ Back to the ritzy side of the street. This grand home stands tall and proud, with the Vietnamese flag flying at the third floor balcony.

^ Another gorgeous modern courtyard draws me in. As much as I love the greenery and wooden vertical fencing, I really want to hop inside and see where that staircase leads.

^ One of the few other high rises on the block, this steep, stark apartment canyon filled with steel windows and air conditioning units sets a somber tone. but the peekaboo window out front with some greenery poking through adds a touch of much needed playfulness.

^ Now we're back where we began, at the foot of my daughter's building.

* * * * *

And if you enjoyed stepping around that block with me, here's another little treat I offer to you.

You're welcome.

News Trend Racing With Rabbits|Actual

On a rainy Friday afternoon, Gracie and I set off on our usual walk.

We never know what we might encounter as we make our daily rounds. But something interesting usually happens.

As always, we cruise out of the neighborhood and down the sidewalk for a couple blocks till we come to the lane that runs along the back property of the high school. We take a hard left onto that lane, and follow along past athletic fields, the first footbridge, and two portable classrooms on our right.

After the portables, we make a hard right onto a short concrete walkway that leads to a second footbridge which, like the first, carries us over a forest ravine.

And from that walkway, to the right, we get a long, clean view of the lawn behind the portables.

This, my friends, is prime rabbit country and today as we passed this very spot, Gracie froze.

And, you know, when my hunting dog freezes up, I freeze too. That's what we humans are expected to do in these situations. Stand still, be quiet, and try to figure out what your dog has already found.

Sure enough, there on that green lawn, just a few feet from the railing, Gracie had scented a big brown bunny.

The rabbit sat. Motionless.

Gracie stared without a twitch.

And I wondered who would break this stalemate.

True fact. When my girl is on the hunt, she has the patience of a saint. My money was on the rabbit.

Sure enough, the rabbit gave a quick quiver, and with a flash of its bouncy white tail, suddenly dashed off down that long, green strip of lawn behind the portables.

Instantly, Gracie leaped between the rails and rocketed after her.

And in the split second, as I stood at that railing watching my dog run off at lightning speed and noting how soon she would reach the end of her very long rope and likely yank my arm straight off, I made a quick decision.

I let go of the rope.

The high school grounds were deserted. A steady rain was falling, and we had not seen a soul since we left the main street. Surely I was taking a chance in setting my dog free, especially in her adrenaline-charged state of mind. But it felt like the right thing to do.

Well. My decision felt great as I watched my beautiful girl sail down that green lawn, a picture of athleticism and grace.

And I felt fine as I watched the rabbit race all the way down to the end of the second portable, and make a hard right turn around the far corner of the building.

But when Gracie continued her pursuit and also disappeared around that corner, I might have had a second and altogether unsettling thought.

Shoot, I murmured. That rabbit can keep running for quite a ways, back along the lane, down the paths we had just come, and who knows how far into the forest. And my dog is in red hot pursuit.

So, in a wink of an eye, I chose to act. I decided to retrace my steps down the concrete walkway, out onto the lane, and along the front of the portables to see if I could find any sign of our two sprinters.

I got as far as the first portable when I thought again. What if, I conjectured, Gracie finishes her romp and goes looking for me? If she's smart, she'll go back to where she left me. But I won't be there.

So in the wink of a second eye, I turned on my heel to head back to the place where we parted ways.

And that's when I heard it.

A familiar and heartening sound.

The scritch-scritch-scritch of Gracie's footsteps in a brisk, all-business trot along the concrete walkway up ahead,

Sure enough, she had obviously finished her race with the rabbit, hopped back up between the rails to the walkway where she had left me, and with me not there, came looking for me.

Her eyes met mine. I smiled, and she grinned back, clearly quite pleased with herself.

We met each other in the middle of the lane, and I gave her a good ear rub, a solid chest thumping, and a chorus of compliments.

We were both quite chuffed with her cleverness.

And then, having entirely enjoyed our unexpected adventure, Gracie and I walked back home where her well-earned dinner was waiting.