I'm in love with a Magnificent Bastard

and I want everyone to know it.

No, it's not Mr. C. In fact, he's in love with this MB also. If you don't know Dack Ragus, aka, The Magnificent Bastard, you're missing out.

image taken from http://www.magnificentbastard.com/. hope he doesn't mind.

Well, as it turns out, this Dack fellow is a pretty interesting chap; a real one of a kind. He is the Minneapolis (actually Edina, but we don't want to embarrass him) based editor of The Magnificant Bastard and if you haven't read his stuff you need to get yourself over to his website (preferably with a big fat cocktail or three) and be prepared to stay awhile. It appears that aside from his sartorial musings for the modern man, he is all about deconstructing the "toolbag". There are only 90 postings on what it is to be a toolbag and what a criminal act of "toolbaggery" may be. If you ever thought there was even the slightest chance you might be a toolbag, you need to check with the MB.

And then there is his female alter ego, The Spectacular Bitch. The SB and the MB are the perfect compliment to one another- sassy, salty, sarcastic.

Words cannot describe...just read for yourself, toolbag.

She thought he couldn't pull it off...

Well, Mrs. F, he certainly did!

As you all know, I love a good party, but nothing makes me more excited than a party with flair, distinction, and a little something special. Last week Mrs. F turned the BIG 4-0 and her hubby threw her quite a bash. Bradstreet Crafthouse in the Graves 601 hotel was filled wall to wall with family and friends and the vibe was just right for this special celebration. Signature cocktails (Cooper's Union= fantastic!), great gifts (my personal favorite being a 40 oz. beer and 40 lottery tickets), some of the most delicious food (can you say spicy lamb sliders with cucumber tzatziki?!) and one of the best favors I have ever received at a party- a 500 ml personalized jug of red wine! A multi vintage red blend from Mercury Winery in the Alexander Valley (Sonoma County) was just the perfect touch to send home with everyone. I loved this! The blend is soft, approachable, fruit forward and truly delish.

You can purchase your own wooden crate of the 500 ml bottles on their website, just click here.

Mrs. F is a special customer so I'm not sure if they will personalize your bottles, but I do think these little numbers make the perfect hostess gift, an excellent addition to your picnic basket this summer, or what the hell, just the perfect amount to enjoy by yourself at home!

Cheers and Happy Birthday Mrs. F!

Wedding Day

Keawala'i Church- Makena, Maui

We are up to our eyeballs in snow here in Minnesota. No, scratch that, it's higher. The snow stands taller then me on either side of our driveway and it's piled so high in front of our windows I feel like I am living in some sort of igloo. It pretty much sucks. It's not like the pretty, fluffy December snow that fell to make the holiday jolly. That's over. January hits and everything novel about the whole snow deal skids to a halt. And now it is the end of February and just in case we stopped to enjoy our mini spring melt last week, wham! We got walloped again. Yeah, AGAIN! As in like, the seventeenth blizzard of the season, but we stayed cozy inside reminiscing about our wedding day twelve years earlier.

Maui. Ahhhh...

Can't you just smell it? Can't you just hear the waves, the ukulele?

Perfect. Sunny. Magical.

oh my- how young we look!

In 1999 we had an entire week with our closest family and friends making unforgettable memories to officially start our life together. I can't believe it's been twelve years. Three kids, seven moves, twice as many jobs between the two of us, one family business, loads of love, lots of arguments, and more fun today then I think we have ever had together. Life is good. Really, really good. I appreciate you everyday Mr. C. Your hard work, your generosity, your commitment to our family and the life we have worked so hard to build together. You rocked my world when I met you at 20 Tank in San Francisco many moons ago, and you rock my world today when you walk through the door into our crazy, messy, fun, wonderful world every evening. You understand the little things as well as the big picture. You have patience when mine flies out the window. Your Saturday Night Live worthy sense of humor makes me laugh until my sides hurt. I know this is veering off into the sappy Valentine's Day post category, but hey, twelve years- it's a big deal.

Happy 12th Anniversary!

La La La Lo-la...

as in Pizzeria Lola in South Minneapolis, not the 1970 hit by The Kinks.

"She walked up to me and she asked me to dance..." you know the song. And the answer is "yes". Yes, Pizzeria Lola, I will dance with you any night of the week, especially with selections on the menu such as "My Sha-Roni!" and "Hawaii Pie-O"....do ya think the owner might be into 70's music and culture? Owners Ann Kim and Conrad Leifur claim the modern, open restaurant with it's blond wood is named after their dog, but I'm skeptical.

Now seriously, this fun little spot at 55th and Xerxes (did I mention the old fashioned photo booth in the back?) is just what the neighborhood called for. Interesting, flavorful, perfectly chewy pizza crust is fired in a copper Le Panyol oven (one of only a handful in the United States) that sits smack in the center of the place. The restaurant itself is small, so the wait can be long and they only take reservations for parties of eight or more, but you can always be like our group that only totaled six- we called and booked the table for eight and then after we were seated we let the hostess know that "two members of our party were sick" and wouldn't be showing up. Sneaky I know, but it got us the large center table and saved us from waiting outside in the snow. Let's say we more then made up for it with the many bottles of wine we ordered from the small but eclectic list. Lola was happy to indulge us without complaint.

Pizzeria Lola has been criticized for their very international wine list that veers to South America, Spain, down to New Zealand, over to Washington State, and finally back to Italy. It's a little unfocused for a pizzeria, but well selected nonetheless. We enjoyed several bottles of the Ottone I Barbera as well as pints of Nordeast on tap- Mr. C's new local favorite brew.

So like a good, solid 70's tune with random riffs (can you say truffle cheese, kimchee, ripini and almonds?) Pizzeria Lola always brings it back around to please even the most serious of skeptics. And like her owners intended, Lola seriously rocks!

Pizzeria Lola

5557 Xerxes Avenue South

Minneapolis, MN 55410

612.424.8338

Hours:

Fri.-Sat. 5-11pm

Tues.-Thur 5-10pm

Sunday 5-10pm

www.pizzerialola.com

I am Mommy, hear me roar...

No, not really. I am not one of those Moms. And luckily I don't know too many, even here in what some believe to be competitive little Edina.

I am currently reading this controversial piece of "literature", The Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, and this lady is not only insane, but insecure, and in spite of all her Ivy League degrees, pretty damn ignorant. I feel bad for author Amy Chua. Really I do. Her girls seem like pretty cool kids and all she wants to do is "drill" them on violin and piano for hours on a Saturday morning depriving them of food, water, and a toilet. Too bad she missed out on the massive Nerf war our family had in our pajamas last weekend, or the dance party that broke out after dinner last Tuesday. I know we should have been at hockey practice (we skipped), and we were supposed to be memorizing multiplication tables (I hate math), but sometimes ya just gotta say, "screw it". Our kids have so much responsibility, homework, and pressure these days that a little good old fashioned fun seems to be a dying past time. Well, to quote Amy Chua,

"Not on my watch."

This excerpt from The Huffington Post seems to be a little more in sync with our parenting philosophy in the Codding household-

1. Watching a little crappy television after school is a good thing.

2. You get the kid you get. It's not you. Do your best with what you have.

3. My personal favorite- It's every parent's obligation to teach their children that no one likes an asshole.

4. Every child who enters our house is a welcome guest.

5. Terrible parents can have wonderful children. And vice versa.

6. On the truly rare occasion your child needs defending, do it. Carefully.

7. The quality of a seven-year-old's day is just as important as that of a 37-year-old. Childhood is not training for adulthood. It's childhood.

8. My children are the most extraordinary and important creatures on earth. They are beyond beautiful. I love them more than words can ever express. This is my private secret. It's also the private secret of every parent I meet.

9. Most parents are doing the very best job they can under often challenging circumstances. Be nice.

Happy Day, Valentines!

My heart belongs to these four guys.

Totally.

Completely.

Always and forever.

XXXOOO

God Bless The Groundhog

Mr. C says, "Happy Spring!"

Identity Crisis

The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.

Or Edina?

When we were in San Francisco last weekend our friend The Producer said he read my blog. I was surprised, not to mention quite flattered. Why would Mr. Hollywood want to read about what happens in suburban Minneapolis? Or the Midwest for that fact. He actually said it was some pretty good stuff, but that I needed to focus more, spotlight our cool little community, work some angles. Basically he was saying in a very polite way (surprising after twelve Manhattans) that I had a blog identity crisis. It's no secret I am a touch (OK, a lot) ADD. My interests, thoughts, rants, raves, peeves, you name it, are all over the board. But, The Producer had a point. I mean, this is the guy that was pulled into a swimming pool by Angelina Jolie after she won the Golden Globe for Gia. He's worked on every evening news entertainment show imaginable, and well, he's been around the block in Hollywood and knows a thing or two. So he said, "I want to hear more about Edina." Well, OK, I can try that. Seems most of my posts are about "The Bubble" anyway, so why not give it a try?

He said to give him a little "Real Housewives of Edina".

Hmmm....be careful what you ask for. There's some pretty good dirt in these parts.

Just not sure I could convince my crew...what do you think Gusto, Vanessa, Fuq, Jules, Shanaynay, K-Dawg, Tchutspk, Demanda?

Grittier then New York? More fun then Orange County? Definitely less plastic surgery then Beverly Hills.

I think we need to call Andy Cohen. Stat.

Brett Dennen - Darling Do Not Fear

This boy can move

Enjoy this while you read...

I am supposed to be at the grocery store right now, but obviously I'm not. I've got a dinner party tomorrow night and my Friday is packed from beginning to end but I got caught up. See, me and my littlest guy spend a lot of time together. He is a fantastic companion who makes me laugh no less then a dozen times a day and he is a true joy. But at the same time he is three, and three year old boys are not always the most cooperative of companions, but today we had a moment. An absolutely private, bring tears to your eyes moment where you realize what it's all about.

We were enjoying our grilled cheese for lunch together like we do on so many days. But today was different. It is freezing outside and through the window I was studying what is my garden buried deep beneath the snow and wondering how long it is going to take for the snow around the BBQ to melt so that we can actually use it again. As I was sitting there literally soaking it all in, this Brett Dennen song came on the iPOD. Cooper and I do this a lot, eat our lunch together and listen to tunes. He loves music and is quite an accomplished dancer and knows every word to Usher and Nelly. So today in the sun we decided to play DJ while we ate. This song came on and we found ourselves playing it over and over singing, "Darlin' " to each other. It was one of those sweet, dream catcher type of moments that you can't walk away from and you pray it will never end. I was mesmerized at the sight of my littlest guy dancing in the sunshine with his sandwich singing to me. Pure magic. The entire moment was so truly delicious that I never wanted that lunch to be finished because with that last bite, "Poof." He would run off and it would be over. Just like our days together now, soon they will be a memory and he will be gone and head off on the school bus to join his brothers all day.

But for now, at this very moment in time, I am going to ignore everything else I have to do so that I can capture this feeling in words. And a song.

I Heart a Great Meal

Busy few days ahead.

Friday evening we are cooking for a table full of food and wine people (can you say one renowned local chef and his wife, one pair of seriously seasoned eaters and drinkers, a VP of one of the largest food service purveyors and her partner who just happens to be the owner of one of the biggest restaurant groups in the Twin Cities) and I am a little nervous about what I might have gotten us into. Mr. C loves a challenge like this, but in my book there is nothing worse then having a meal flop when you have a table full of professional eaters with big expectations. So I am sitting down for a little menu planning session and not feeling a ton of inspiration on this freezing morning.

Lamb, beef tenderloin, pork? No clue which direction to go with this group.

Mr. C wants to serve the magnum of Goldeneye Pinot Noir from the Anderson Valley that we have been waiting to try and back it up with our favorite Alain Graillot Crozes Hermitage. Do we even need to serve food? Can't we just drink our dinner? Probably not. Stay tuned and see where this menu planning actually takes me as we slide into Friday evening....

Now looking ahead to Valentine's Day. I must admit this is a date the two of us don't celebrate to the fullest. It's kind of akin to New Year's Eve- a little amateurish in my book. The only Valentine tradition I wholeheartedly support is the inclusion of Bubbles. As in Billecart Salmon, Louis Roederer, Krug- but why not go a little nuts with something like Champagne Chartogne-Taillet? This is a tiny producer in the Merfy region of Champagne that is doing some delicately delicious stuff with bubbles. That to me is special. Why would I want to go to the local steakhouse with a room full of people about to get engaged and leave with a single stemmed red rose from the maitre'd?

Not my kinda night.

We are tossing around the idea of a cooking class at Cooks of Crocus Hill that comes with a pretty decent wine pairing, but who knows? I would be up for a night at Piccolo, Tosca, Vincent, but more then likely Mr. C will want to uncork something special at home and prepare a great meal. Once again, stay tuned.

Cheers to a great weekend!

Forty and Fabulous

The Gang turns 40 this year
Mr. C, JR, Uncle Vito, The Producer, & Anchorman

This past weekend we ventured back to our old hometown of San Francisco for the first of many 40th birthday celebrations this year. It is no secret that The City by the Bay holds a very large piece of my heart- it is where I met and fell in love with Mr. C, got my first "real" job and my first apartment. I lived on Union Street in Russian Hill and woke each morning to foghorns, cable cars, and the most contagious energy any mid western girl could hope for by moving to the west coast. San Francisco was like a bright, shiny penny bringing me luck and love at every turn and I loved her for it. She could do no wrong and even with the thousands of dollars in parking tickets I racked up over the years, this was my city, and to a certain extent, it still is.

But in time, we all age. I have some lines under my eyes and I certainly don't look 24 any longer. San Francisco, she's got the same thing goin' on. She is no longer shaking her booty with IPO's and massive expense accounts. She isn't showboating her million dollar lofts and $700 downtown parking spaces any longer. She has a few vacancies and continues to struggle with managing her horrendous traffic and homeless population, but does that mean she's not beautiful? No way. She is more gorgeous then ever, especially on a 75 degree day in February.
But does my old girl SF need a little Botox? A little chin lift? Perhaps.

She could use a little nip and tuck here and there, but she's still hot.
Her restaurants are packed, neighborhoods are still vibrant and young people still transplant themselves here from all over the country in hopes of finding what I did nearly 17 years ago. She has survived this recession and her real estate bubble burst with a pop that nearly started an earthquake.
But she endured.

And like us, with this year of 40th birthday celebrations, we hope to do the same.
But I'm crossing my fingers on the Botox...