The Eating Tour of Rochester

I really appreciate my sister planning her wedding during the summer because it finally afforded me the opportunity to cross something off my bucket list. Granted this item was only added to my bucket list in April, and I don't technically keep a "list", but it's still very important.

The Eating Tour of Rochester

Every city has certain food and restaurants unique to that city, although I kind of feel like maybe Rochester has more than most, or at least more than most small cities. Maybe I'm just biased. Anyway, I grew up taking all these opportunities for granted. Like so many bright eyed bushy tailed college graduates, I moved away for a job and didn't even realize what I had until it was gone.
Of course, I suffered more than most, because I missed out on a lot of this delicious eating due to misguided, foolish vegetarianism for way too long, before I finally saw the light and realized: meat is delicious.

I've wanted to make up for lost time and eat all these delicacies, but it's a six hour drive, so during the school year my visits usually last from about midnight Friday night to noon on Sunday - limited eating opportunities. Plus, you have to account for the fact that I stay with my mom and she' a phenomenal cook.

Finally, after Darcy's wedding we had time to kill, and if there's a better time to stuff yourself with fattening food than the third trimester of your first pregnancy, I don't know what it could possibly be. I'm eating for two, after all, and I don't listen to Negative Nancys who try to convince me that's a fallacy.

Day 1: the best barbeque you will ever eat.

It became so famous there's even one in NYC now!

Apparently I was too excited to take a picture of the actual food, so imagine the most tender brisket and pulled pork with amazing corn and macaroni and cheese on the side. Fun fact: I've always hated pulled pork, but apparently the baby likes it because now it's delicious.

Day 2: Rochester's best fish fry

I waitressed at a little family owned diner through most of high school and college. I'm sure I complained about it as much as any job at the time, but now I look back on it fondly and I always loved my coworkers. Something about the restaurant industry makes you really bond - most likely what jerks all the customers are. I never had a fish fry while I worked there (I never tried the majority of the menu, actually). A few months ago, they were voted the best fish fry in Rochester. I finally lost my fish fry virginity. Good thing I still have some connections - we went on Monday, and they usually only do beer battered fish fries on Friday, but they hooked me up.

Bonus: my number one (and only) pregnancy craving, cottage cheese, was offered as a side. Seriously, I buy a giant tub every week.

After that, we went down to Charlotte beach for another classic: Abbotts custard.

My mom and I did not even plan to be twinsies.

 

We failed as Rochesterarians to warn Eric that the Abbotts portions are huge (he's from Ohio). He ordered a double and really struggled.

There were a lot of TWSS options going on.

Day 3: The next "morning" (this summer our mornings start around 11am) we got breakfast at the Public Market - Rochester's giant farmer's market. Mine was the sausage one - I don't really like ordering bacon from restaurants, it's always soggy and just gross.

Dinner on our last night there was the ultimate Rochester classic: the Garbage Plate.

 

Your choice of meat on top of two of the three: homefries, mac salad, or baked beans.

It probably sounds disgusting, but all I can say is that you just have to try it, it's freaking amazing. The above one was Eric's, since it looks more traditional. The below one is the one I split with my mom, and we were both still completely stuffed.

She doesn't like cheeseburgers - I don't even know how we are related.

Day 4: On our last morning, we went to a diner for breakfast that I'd never even heard of, but it was still awesome.

Eric's breakfast

My Greek omelet - pancakes always sound good but then I have to go for the savory.

With that, the food tour was complete. Not really though, because I have a fridge full of leftovers from everywhere we went. Eric and I approached things a little differently. He took it more as an Adam Richmond man vs. food challenge, and felt like a failure if he didn't finish every meal. I took it more as an opportunity to taste everything. I'm not generally a fast learner, but I did learn pretty fast that if you don't stop eating the second you feel a bit full during pregnancy, you're in for a world of hurt.  I actually had to skip a local all homemade ice cream shop snack with my family after my breakfast sandwich because I was too full - in my previous life, being too full for ice cream was just unthinkable. There's no arguing with a baby compressing your organs - he always wins. But actually it means I always have leftovers, so we are really both winners.

Although it is possible the food tour took several years off my life, I believe it was worth it. I hadn't heard anything about my glucose test from last week, so I finally called the doctor this morning and found out I passed! I think I was actually more afraid of having to the 3 hour test (fasting and four blood draws - basically my worst nightmare) than actually having to do the diet if I tested positive for gestational diabetes. But at least with this baby, I'm safe from that.

What city would you most want to do a food tour of, and why? My next choice would probably be Chicago - deep dish pizza and Al's beef.

 

So much dairy and some random thoughts

After approximately 900 hours in the car this week, we're back home in Baltimore. It was weird leaving my childhood home (my parents lived there even before I was born) and thinking that the next time I'll be there, it will be with my own child. Freaky, man.

We've come to a milestone I was hoping to avoid. A bare left hand. 29 weeks.

If you like it then you should have put a ring on it.

I knew with being pregnant over the summer, the odds were not in my favor. Technically my wedding and engagement rings still fit, but it was becoming what I imagine a CrossFit workout to be like to get them off. And that was in a climate (upstate NY) significantly cooler and less disgustingly muggy than ours. Conventional wisdom states that I should stop wearing them while I still have the option in order to avoid whatever probably terrible thing would happen if I wait until I can't remove them at all.

A lot of people asked if I was sad to be a teetotaler at my sister's wedding. I've made my love of wine pretty clear, and the wedding was at a vineyard, and we all know things taste better when someone else pays for them. I did have a little "aw shucks, that looks delicious, wish I could have some" jealousy. I would have been a lot more upset to be able to show up to the wedding and drink my face off with no baby in sight, so it was a pretty worthwhile tradeoff. And if I had any doubts, comparing my sense of well being to everyone else's the following morning definitely squashed them.

The morning after, some of us suffered and some of us had strangely great runs along the harbor. (Side note - I need to stop telling people I'm going for a short 30 minute run and accept that these days, that's just called a "run".) It was this amazing miracle where I didn't even feel pregnant, running actually felt normal (although I'm sure my pace was just as pregnant). Especially shocking considering the run was at 9am and this was me at 3am.

In case you ever wondered what I looked like being woken up in the middle of the night to let drunk people in hotel rooms who are waiting to take pictures of me.

After the run, it was time to realize a life goal.



My new brother in law grew up on a dairy farm with something like 3,800 cows - they supply tons of milk, including to Cabot (I love their cheese). I've always been dying to see it and his family was nice enough to give my whole extended family a tour the morning after the wedding.

SO MANY COWS

In case you were unaware, as I was, up close cows are freaking huge.

 

I've been on a few farm tours in my day but never a farm of this size and never one that was intended for adults. I've been taking for granted running to the store for milk my whole life and never appreciated all that went into it.




I have a pathological fear of all animals and even though everyone else was letting the cows lick them and stuff, I couldn't shake the feeling that they would absolutely bite my hand off if given the chance. I enjoyed looking at them and learning about them though.

BABY COW. Even I find this cute.

Not quite cute and innocent enough to make contact with, but cute.

My awkward impression of a cow. Or let's pretend that's what I was going for.

Unrelated, but we babysat on Monday and my mom gave this guy a cow tattoo on his arm. SO. CUTE.

I actually want the answer to this question: obviously my sister's new husband is my brother in law. But is the rest of his family "in-laws" to me too? Also now is he considered Eric's brother - in - law too? And what do you call them - I mean I already have a mother-in-law and I'm pretty sure most people only have one of those.  However, I like relationships that are described simply. "My sister's mother in law" is too many qualifiers. Is his sister my sister-in-law? Does it make a difference that she's adorable and I love the whole family? Am I making this much more complicated than necessary?

What do you call your slightly more extended family?

 

 

 

 

I successfully avoided the ugly cry

It's been a wild whirlwind week (how's that for alliteration?) in upstate NY for my little sister's wedding. Obviously I love my sister like crazy, it was amazing, it was emotional, we laughed, we cried, etc, etc. But in the interest of keeping this relevant to the general public (with a small splash of blogger narcissism), I'll be sharing mainly things which I find funny, adorable toddler shots, and pictures where I look good.
 

We started out Wednesday night in Syracuse, and spent the night visiting my college roommate and her husband.

Before I met you, the sun was like a yellow grape. But now, it looks like fire in the sky. Why? Because you light a fire inside me.

Eric used his fancy bartending skills to mix up some martinis, which was quite the contrast from how we used to spend nights in the dorms. I actually didn't meet Eric until after college, but he gets along with everyone so well and has heard the stories so many times that we all agree it pretty much feels like he's been around all along.

Thursday started off with a run (aka walk/jog) around Syracuse, Bruegger's bagels, and a pedicure with the bridal party.

Sorry random pedicure lady.

Then I attempted to shove my beautiful feet into some wedge heels to be all fancy for the rehearsal. I'm not a huge fan of wearing heels. I'm currently pretending it's due to pregnancy, but I actually always hate it and never do it, especially since I already put in my time at the bars and hooked a man. But I was wearing heels in the wedding, and a rehearsal seems sort of pointless if you aren't really going to rehearse. I guess I've been a little spoiled by summer and got used to just throwing on some flip flops. Eric called me while I was trying to fasten the strap on my fancy heels and I was huffing and puffing like I was running the 100m dash in the Olympic trials. That was right before I gave up and had my mom strap them on me.

Immediately after that prime example of my physical fitness, the minister for the wedding thought I was the bride's mother. We're six years apart.

On the bright side, there were some handsome men there. Exhibit A: my brother and my nephew.

With my self esteem at an all time high, it was onward and upward to the groom's family farm for the rehearsal dinner.

I've been dying to visit the farm for years, and it exceeded my wildest expectations. Gorgeous.

Another handsome man and the beautiful bride!

 After that all the youngins went out to the bar. I got a text asking if we would be joining, and I responded that we're in our 30s. Get real. The days of two wild nights out are long over, pregnant or not.

My sister and I started out wedding morning bright and early with some yoga, because weddings can be stressful.

So graceful.

 The women prepared in the typical way, and we ran out of time and had a mad dash to the aisle in typical wedding fashion.



 I learned from the previous day's mistakes and enlisted some bridesmaid assistance this time.



All was well and the most important thing is that not one bridesmaid tripped on the multiple sets of stairs leading to the aisle.

Nor did the bride. Or my dad, although he was wearing more sensible shoes.

I loved the ceremony. My brother is a very talented musician and surprised us both by playing a song that he said always reminded him of his sisters.
 

My mom took some pictures of me during the song and my face looks like I'm concentrating on single-handedly orchestrating an imminent government overthrow or something because I was so focused on not crying. As I've mentioned, the pregnancy hormones create a situation where there's no emotional middle ground, so I knew if I started things would quickly go downhill into full on hysterics.

I don't have too many pictures of the rest. I was in it, obviously, and Eric ended up skipping pretty much the whole thing due to other pressing duties.



That kid's face pretty much sums up his feelings on having his parents in sight and yet not in reach. It really wasn't working out for him so Eric jumped in as official baby whisperer. He turned that frown upside down in no time.

My speech was a huge success. I kept my crying to the single tear/quavering voice variety, as opposed to the all out ugly cry which was my greatest fear. I got lots of compliments from strangers, so I take that as a win. 

The only possible improvement would have been if I could have got some toddler applause like the best man, but my speech was first and someone was too consumed with eating Cheerios to cheer me on.

Once that was finally done, I could breathe much easier and enjoy the reception.

My fellow over 30 peeps. We hung with the 20 year olds till almost the bitter end.

I think I finally saw some pay off from attempting to not be a fat slug these past few months. I had to take more dancing breaks than I have at any wedding before, but I still feel my stamina was impressive, considering I'm 7 months along. Cue the dancing photo montage.

Take cake home tonight.

Dancing. And making weird faces.

My aunt, me, and Eric, and strangers

You can kind of see my fancy hair here.

The final dance of the night. Don't act like you aren't saying "awwwwww". Also, Eric is keeping his wedding tradition of "sweatiest man alive" going strong.

I even stayed at the after party at the bar until 1:30 am. People were impressed by this, and I do love getting accolades for things I don't really consider accomplishments. My little sister only gets married once though! I didn't want the night to end!

Fill in the blank: At any given moment, at a wedding reception, you will most likely find me __________________________________.  

Mine is almost always on the dance floor. I usually even eat my cake as fast as possible standing up, so as not to miss anything. Note: I do not possess rhythm or dancing skills.

Good eats, celebratory drinks and ways to use all that free time you have while running a marathon

 

 

 

 

Regarding my last post - it has been brought to my attention that the pregnant woman who ran the super fast for normal people/slow for her 800m race is (self - proclaimed) not trying to be inspiring, hilarious on twitter, and kind of awesome. I might love her now. I liked reading all the comments, which basically boiled down to "I'll do me, you do you". I can get on board with that, but I refuse to be inspired by it. Also, I'd be "doing me" (haha) with the same amount of exercise even if social media didn't exist. Just sayin.

 

 I did want to clarify that I am ALL FOR PREGNANT EXERCISE. I am not in the "women with child are delicate flowers who must hide in dark rooms" camp at all. I support that middle ground of working out without pushing your limits whole-heartedly. I realize that in the blog world, my own 40+ minutes per day of cardio makes me a lazy fatty, but in some circles (the rest of America, for one) it's solidly within the recommendation for a healthy pregnancy/lifestyle.

 

Speaking of healthy pregnancies, last night for dinner I made pretzel dogs with beer cheese sauce for dinner.

 

Eric was a happy man

 

EPIC. Not sure why it appears to have a thumb.

Don't worry, I served them with Caesar salad, the healthiest kind, and mine was extra healthy and smug because it was made with loganic greens from the farmer's market.

 

Ok, enough of that, today is a monumental milestone for me.

 

12 weeks left. Holy crap.

 

Third trimester! 2/3 of the way there to meet my baby! I know I probably shouldn't be as excited as I am, since it's not even really a milestone, it's all based on guesses and dark arts and whatnot. But I am, and I couldn't wait to see it in writing on the What to Expect app when I woke up this morning.

 

I also use the Baby Center app, but I need to delete it because it just irritates me and the boards seem to be filled with idiots and nothing but "is babby in belly ok?".

 

Doesn't that clipart placenta look delicious?

 

They are both constantly telling me to eat healthy with lots of fruits and vegetables. I find this funny because based on the approximate sizes they've been giving me for various fruits and vegetables, none of the writers have ever been to the produce section in their lives.

 

I celebrated this morning with a pregnancy ritual that all mothers have fond memories of, based on my Instagram comments.

 

The glucose test

 

Pregnancy hormones mess with basically everything, and your body's ability to deal with insulin is no exception (source: Wikipedia). You have four minutes to put your college skills to use, finally, and chug that sugary drink. Then you sit for an hour until they take FIVE vials of blood. I hate needles more than anything, even dogs, and I was not prepared for them to need so much. It's the second most I've had taken at one time during this pregnancy (personal record so far has been 8). Now I wait around and pray that I passed, meaning I don't have gestational diabetes, which would be terrible.

 

On the ride home I got really irrationally angry at my husband for not having to take the test. I mean, it's OUR child, he provided 50% of the DNA, and he's not even scared of needles. Whose dumb idea was it that women have to carry the children and do all the work?

 

Tomorrow we leave for a week in upstate NY for a major event - my sister's wedding!

 



 







 



I'm the maid of honor, which I've never done before, a duty I'm super excited about. Most importantly, I picked up my dress from the tailor yesterday and it fits perfectly. I've been concerned since I first POAS (if you don't know what that means, you've never been on baby center, and you're lucky).

Somehow, my pregnant brain forgot that the maid of honor has another pretty important job.

My sister sent out a wedding itinerary last week. I was reading it in bed when I woke up for work Friday, and when I saw "maid of honor speech", I shot up like one of those crazy cartoons.

See, the problem is not just that I forgot, it's that I have HUGE shoes to fill. My sister's MOH speech at our wedding was serious literary genius, and I cry and laugh every year when we watch our wedding video, for real. I knew at the time that the pressure was on, and then I foolishly created extra pressure by spending the next six years becoming a famous blogger, renowned for my way with words. I also always planned on relying heavily on liquid courage, since I'm of the mindset that death is preferable to public speaking, but that's out the window too.

Luckily, pre-pregnancy, back when I was able to think thoughts, I did give this some consideration. When I ran the Bob Potts marathon last year, I spent about miles 1-10 deep in thought about what I should say, and then made notes when I got home, and put them in a safe place. Shockingly, I didn't forget what that safe place was, and was able to retrieve them and turn them into a speech over the weekend.  And I bet non-runners thought marathons were just a way to torture ourselves physically.

I was going to just pretend I never forgot until after the wedding and then tell the story if and only if the speech was a success. But I had two trusted friends read it and give me the thumbs up, so that's basically the same thing. I feel like that girl in Coyote Ugly - I enjoy the writing, but now I'd really like Leanne Rimes to come and perform my speech for me.

Just like this, except one of us would be twice that size.

Fingers crossed it ends like this.

Thoughts on the glucose test? I thought it tasted like soda - no big deal, went down pretty easy. I wouldn't drink it just for kicks, but not bad.

 

Tips/things to avoid while giving speeches? I plan to follow Jim's advice to Dwight, mainly.