Hello old friends! I’ve been notably absent from my beloved Shared Plates and it was partially by design but partially the reality of life with a child and the 4000 viruses that exist in the schools, grocery stores and wherever else we frequent. We’ve survived the never ending month of January and are blooming anew in the sun that’s baking Colorado. January is always painted as a reset from the wild and boundary-less month of December - Dry January, Get Healthy January, Join a Gym January.. etc etc. In actuality it feels like a cold hard withdrawal from the togetherness of November and December. In my opinion it's a sad sad month filled with dark days, lonely nights and little excitement for the year ahead. It’s only a temporary feeling. We put so much effort in trying to start our years on the right track that we often isolate ourselves with new habits. Why can’t we lower the volume that we rocked in December and move into the new year with the same tune of togetherness and love we left the year prior? It shouldn’t have to be all or nothing.

I’m not absolved from the act of conforming to the expectations of the new year. I’ve committed to a very strict and healthy diet for 3 weeks. I am joined in this misery by one of my very best friends. Doing this together has made me a better dieter. I’m committed and accountable but also I just love texting my friend all day to talk about food, like the two old ladies we’re slowly becoming. For me, there is significantly less joy in creating food if I cannot share it. I create food for others, end of story. Left to my own devices I would eat scrambled eggs or sourdough toast or a roasted sweet potato for dinner every night. Salt and pepper being my only brushstrokes on an otherwise blank canvas. Given the opportunity to share the meal or even just the idea put into the meal makes it considerably more exciting. My friend and I have committed to this diet in hopes of making our Millennial asses feel and look a little bit more like our Gen Z counterparts.

This past December I turned 36 years old. This birthday was a shot to the heart and I’m still trying to pull the arrow out. It felt like a mourning of my early life and an ice bath welcome to the dark side of this decade. It hit me hard. I’m working to wrap my head around why the number itself is what is tripping me up. In my head I’m 24 years old and I plan to stay that way at least until I turn 40. This is the only birthday in my life that I wasn’t quite prepared for and I felt something other than joy for a day of celebration. Time is weird and the passing of it is even weirder. I just don’t think it should always be considered a measurement, especially with consideration to our ages. It's a great indicator but not a great measure of our beings. It shouldn’t hold any clout in valuing our success, accomplishments, our beauty or our worth. Being a human is being able to experience - why do we try to measure and value it all and then hold it against the time we’ve spent alive? It’s a fools game and there is no real way to win, apart from experiencing life with joy. Maybe I’m just trying to put a deeper spin on the you're-almost-40-which-is-almost-middle-aged feeling I am having. It may just be the lack of carbs and sugars in my current day-to-day life.

A funny story from my birthday - We were in Breckenridge, which is at a very very high elevation. Aaron was not feeling awesome as a result. Francie and I were ready to get out of the house so we left him to nap and she and I rode the gondola to the base of the ski mountain. I thought a birthday beer and hot chocolate for my tiny pal sounded like a great idea. We entered a very busy lodge and the bartender allowed Francie to sit with me at the end of the bar. I ordered our drinks and shortly after they arrived France leaned over to look at the gentleman sitting next to me. I assumed she was going to say hi. She is my child after all. She looked this man dead in the eyes and said “You are a very handsome man.” And then sat back in her chair. Girl has game, I have to give her credit for that. She did leave me to explain that I am happily married and my 3 year old daughter is not my wing woman. The bartender was so amused he gave her extra marshmallows for her hot chocolate. The kid is on to something.

When this silly little diet ends on February 9th I will enjoy Fruilian pasta and wines for Aaron’s birthday at one of Boulder's best restaurants, Frasca. I will coach him through my lesson on time as an indicator rather than a measure. Though he won’t care because men age like fine wines and my husband will certainly be a silver fox in the next 10 years. I will do it anyway to make myself feel better about the theory and how it relates to me - middle child syndrome at work. We will have an extra dessert because it will no longer be January and we will no longer be hellbent on starting 2024 as perfectly healthy, skinny, 20-something versions of ourselves. Lessons will have been learned, in theory, because they will likely be repeated next January. Cheers to the here and now!

This menu is a hodgepodge of old favorites and Super Bowl worthy food - enjoy it however you’d like. It doesn’t have to go together as one spread.

A Playlist for February

Menu :

Deviled Eggs with Crispy Bacon

Spicy Chili Hummus

Aaron’s Chicken and Sausage Gumbo

Grandma’s Classic Coffee Cake

Starving for a Past Life