Moonshine & Wanderlust

... a cosmopolitan view from a southern perspective

Recipe Time: Spinach & Quinoa Patties

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Since I’m often on the go and need to fuel my body during the day I’ve been in search of some recipes that will give me some options that I can easily pack for a lunch or eat before or after a workout. These little Spinach and Quinoa Patties are the perfection solution! I was skeptical they wouldn’t taste that great, but they’re like little burgers. I’ve been eating mine with hummus!

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Spinach & Quinoa Patties

Yield: 36 patties

Time: 20 minutes

Ingredients:

  • 3 cups cooked quinoa
  • 3 eggs
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 large carrot, peeled and shredded
  • 1 cup chopped spinach
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil

Preparation:

  1. Combine all ingredients (minus oil) in a mixing bowl. Let the mixture sit for 5-10 minutes to ensure everything is molded together.
  2. Heat the oil in a skillet over medium-high heat. Form small patties out of the mixture and place in the oil (about 2 mins each side). Place on a paper towel on a cooling rack.

Notes:

Some recipes call for bread crumbs, but I wanted to keep this as clean as possible so I left them out and the patties held up just fine! You can also add green onion, parsley, etc. Some recipes also suggest adding parmesan cheese. So, play with it and make it your own!

You Have No Idea

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Last night’s sleep did not come easy. Despite a long day of work and three workout sessions put in and feeling amazing I found sleep elusive. I used to be a great sleeper – when I lived at home my mom would joke she could set off an explosive outside of my room and I’d sleep through it.

Those days are gone. Some nights are better than others. I’ve always gone through spells of needing dead silence or having a movie/radio on. Right now I’m in that phase of having a movie playing – it helps but last night I laid in the darkness and couldn’t find rest.

Sometimes you hear news that rocks your world. Breaks your heart. Shocks you. Angers you. I have always been fiercely loyal to people in my life, even if time causes a drift, I will always have your back. And, I’ll go punch someone’s lights out (or attempt to) if someone hurts someone I care about. But, sometimes your hands are tied and you can’t do anything. Can’t do anything but listen. Listen and be there. And, you listen and your heart breaks.

We have no idea what people are going through. People we are close to, people we have known for years, people we are just beginning to know – it doesn’t matter. We all harbor dark hurts and pain. And, sometimes, between two people those moments are exposed in a sacred exchange of trust. Even if you don’t have those moments that doesn’t mean they don’t exist – bubbling underneath the surface.

Perhaps they have been pushed down by pushing other people away, lashing out, or acting out in ways that are uncharacteristic or inappropriate. We can easily judge someone’s actions and pinpoint them as what “we” deem they are when in reality we have no idea. No idea the pain someone you care about has been harboring.

What’s that saying? If we all laid out our problems in a pile, we would pick ours back up? Truth is we all have things we have or are going through. Nothing changes that. What we can change is where we look. When we turn inward and focus on self, we miss the opportunities to listen to someone else. We miss the moments to share someone else’s hurt – to lift them up, to share testimonies… to just listen. Not everything in this world needs our response.

Be keen to the lives of those around you. Be open and receptive – time may have passed between two people but when you hold someone’s heart with yours it doesn’t matter the time gone – if you really, truly care about them. Sometimes the water under the bridge drifts away and you can see a new beginning. Because life is so short – it’s too short for unforgiveness and pain.

 

“The closest thing to being cared for is to care for someone else.” – Carson McCullers

A Southern Girl in Paris Part 4: Pedaling through the Last Day of Paris

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Part 1.1 Part 1.2 Part 2 Part 3

Monday morning was Memorial Day here in the States and in France it was Whit Monday (the day after Pentecost Sunday). Last Memorial Day I was spending the day with friends, laying out by the pool, eating those summer sticky popsicles in the plastic sleeves, napping, and eating. It was a very American Memorial Day. This year I spent a holiday in Paris biking around the city.

Running in Paris

We woke up early and laced up for a little run around Montmartre. In typical Paris fashion, it was drizzling while we were out – so far it hadn’t rained at all so I was happy to see some sprinkles while I was still in town.

We started our run up these lovely stairs. In the words of my trainer, C, “Don’t think about it – just do it!” So – we did.

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We ran back over to Sacré-Cœur to see it during the day and peek inside. It’s as beautiful as you might imagine – I always love these types of churches. They are so reverent and Holy. It was a completely different scene from the evening before – no one else was around and it was very quiet.

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Paris is full of parks and we stopped at a small one to see the I Love You wall – a huge tile wall of the phrase in over 300 languages. I told ya’ll Paris is romantic. And, not in a sappy way but in a way that reminds you what love can be – passionate and crazy and carefree and uncomplicated.

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We ran through the cobblestone streets, the mist of an early morning mist showering us, the smell of bread being baked in the boulangeries – it was a perfect Paris morning. And, in true Parisian fashion – I stopped for a croissant after our run.

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I could have run around all morning looking at the cute shops and streets we passed.

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After our run, we headed back to the hotel to get ready for a full day of biking in Paris!

Mind Your Hand Signals

Paris has a bike system called Velib which for less than $2 you can rent a bike all day! Pretty sweet deal, right? To secure this nifty price the only catch is you have to dock your bike every 30 minutes. This really isn’t a big inconvenience because the Velib bike stations are everywhere around the city. As long as there is a slot open, you can dock the bike for 2 mins, get it back out and be on your way. If you miss the allotted re-dock time, you’re charged 1 Euro.

So, biking – I LOVE to bike. However, I bike on a little cruiser bike that doesn’t have gears, hand brakes, a bell, etc. In typical “me” fashion, it’s a very classic, basic bike. The Velib bikes are not basic – first of all, they are the equivalent of lugging around the dead weight of a grown man (that might be an exaggeration but that’s what it seemed like), they have gears and hand brakes and bells, etc. And, a basket – which I found to be perfect for a baguette and a bottle of wine.

It took me a good five minutes just to get my seat situated (which, by the way – was not conducive to my backside but that’s another story).

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It was at this point (yes, at the beginning) we started having bike problems. NOT MINE THIS TIME! Ha!

A’s first bike had a flat tire – which she didn’t realize until we had already headed away from the station we got our bikes. So, we stopped to redock and she got another one – this one had a faulty bell. We waited until it was time to redock our bikes to get another one and she enlisted me as the official “bike checker”, which included checking the brakes, handles, bells, and tires.

“All looks good!” I shouted while she was at the kiosk checking out the bike I had just “OKed”

She comes over to get it out of the slot and sees this:

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That’s right – it had a missing pedal.

“Patty! You failed me.”

We hadn’t experienced pedal problems yet! Anyway, after this time we checked absolutely everything on the bike. So, if you find yourself in a similar situation – save yourself some wasted time and frustration and give your rent-a-bike a good once over. Although, I can see how pedals would fall off as heavy as those things were.

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After our late-night encounter with the red light district we decided to head back in the daylight to see the famous Moulin Rouge. Of course, in the stark contrast of daylight the area was completely different. Well, not completely – a myriad of shops lined both sides of the streets. Ya’ll can use your imagination. 🙂

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It was cool to see such a famous site – all I could think of was the movie with Nicole Kidman. Seemed much more glamorous.

Monday was my shopping day so we stopped at several boutiques and stores for souvenirs. I don’t shop for myself when I travel – I usually pick up a momento from a restaurant or a site or keep ticket stubs and those are my souvenirs. If I do get myself anything, it’s usually a small piece of jewelry that’s locally made.

By the middle of our day, both my and A’s bike baskets were full of all matter of purchases… which, would have been fine if I hadn’t decided to fall off my bike. In the street. Let me back up a little bit – so there are lots of bike lanes in Paris (and even little red lights, too), which is great, but there are also plenty of streets that don’t have bike lanes. And, there don’t seem to be a lot of rules for cars or bikers. Which means you are navigating extremely busy roads relying on hand signals and eye contact to make sure you don’t get run over. I was having a legitimately difficult time with that bike and it being so heavy – couple that with trying to ride in the road and a basket full of glass and you get this scene:

A slowed down ahead of me so I did the same. The slow pace was just enough time for my top heavy bike to lean over to one side and crash completely into the sidewalk. My purse and souvenirs went splattering and rolling down the sidewalk. And, if that wasn’t enough I fell on top off the bike and then off of it.

What do you do? You just gotta laugh. It was funny. Tragic, but funny. It’s so typical of my life! Of course I brought a few extra souvenirs back in the way of bruises all over my lower body.

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We parked our bikes and headed to Angelina – a famous café that is said to be Audrey Hepburn’s favorite. I was (still love her) a huge fan of Audrey Hepburn growing up – Love in the Afternoon, Funny Face and my favorite, Sabrina (“Oh, but Paris isn’t for changing planes, it’s… it’s for changing your outlook, for… for throwing open the windows and letting in… letting in la vie en rose.”) – they all had elements of Paris in them and I guess that’s why I always thought it would be magical.

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I was hoping to have a little respite at Angelina but since I only wanted a couple macaroons and their famous hot chocolate it was a little “frowned upon” to have a seat in the main area. Definitely very Parisian and not very Southern. While the South is very accommodating, Paris proved to be very non-accommodating in many ways. Take it or leave it. But, the next best thing was to take the sweets across the street and sit in the park.

Their macaroons were good – I had better ones in New York City. The famous hot chocolate was out of this world – it was like drinking brownie batter. I couldn’t even finish that little cup!! Good for sharing 🙂

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After a little rest in the park, we biked back over to the area of the Louvre and walked around for a little while. Have I mentioned how much walking we did?

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This is what the sky looked like every day – perfect!

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Tuileries Garden

 

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As it started getting later into the evening we went in search of something to bring for the final viewing of the Eiffel Tower. The day was coming to a close – I was going to miss the simplicity of the past few days.

We were walking by the building below and A asked me if I thought people that lived in Paris really appreciated where they lived or realized how amazing it was to look out the window and see the Eiffel Tower everyday. I couldn’t answer the question because I don’t know – I would imagine they are “used” to their life so it’s not like us thinking about living there. The magic wears off after a while, I suppose.

The other night I was driving to a friend’s house out far away from the city and there was the most beautiful sunset starting. The mountains far off in the distance were clear and the sky was bright – flecked with pale tones of pink and purple and yellow. It wasn’t Paris, but Paris isn’t my home. And, I want to appreciate the beauty that’s around me and never take it for granted.

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We made our way over to the Eiffel Tower and found a good spot in the grass to relax. It was much less crowded than the last night we were there.

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The warm weather was abandoning us as the night crept on so we got ready to leave. Thankful for the opportunity to meet up with my sweet friend and make so many awesome, once-in-a-lifetime memories.

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 So ends the story of A Southern Girl in Paris…

until next time… bisous, patty lauren









Fishes in Nets


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A woman once compared her relationship with her husband to that of a fisherman and a lone fish. She (the fish) was in a net hanging off the side of the boat and every now and then her husband (the fisherman) would lift the net out of the water, observe her and check on her – perhaps offer her a few words to keep being a good fish – and then place her back into the water. 


I heard that account over 20 years ago as a naive little girl but it has stayed and ,at times, haunted me. I don’t know why I have never forgotten that after all these years – maybe the analogy seered itself into my young writer’s brain or maybe it was because as humans we often find ourselves being a fish in a net. 


We can find ourselves swimming in our net… It’s restrictive but we can still swim. As our net floats along we can swim a little further, see a little bit more, feel a little more free. But just as we are seeing the potential of what lies ahead we are scooped up out of the water and observed. 


Observed by the world. Observed by our family and friends. Observed by someone we love. We have been caught in nets of failure, of inadequacy, of rejection, of disregard. Our self esteem, our worth, our hope for a future filled with happiness and love and success has been contained in a solitary net where we find ourselves swimming around and around. 


We are given bits of hope and praise and renewal – to keep working on ourselves in order to be set free from the net. So we hang on to crumbs and lowered back down into an all familiar world of abandonment as whatever hope we are hanging on to floats around us like an unattainable life preserver. 


It can become a viscous cycle of disappointment, frustration, hopelessnes, and destruction. Too afraid to leave. Some hope and comfort is better than none at all. Familiarity can be a backstabbing companion. 


We can find ourselves circling our nets and wondering:


How can I be good enough?
It’s my fault. 
I’m the problem. 
How can I fix myself?
What’s wrong with me?
Why is this happening to me?


The past almost 3 months of blogs have been mostly about taking responsibility and looking within ourselves to own up to our faults and weaknesses. Reminders we are the only ones who can better ourselves and to own up to when we screw up. To strive to be the best we can be. 
But, sometimes, we do all of that and continue to better ourselves and we still find ourselves trapped in nets of crippling hurt. Maybe we find ourselves compromising or chipping away at our own worth in failed attempts to make ourselves accepted.


Sometimes it’s not us – there will always be people who will be disappointed with you, who will leave you feeling like you’re not enough, who will discourage your journey,who will abandon you when you need them the most, who will tell you to your face things that have the potential to shatter your worth. We cannot control other people – we can’t control fishers. But, we can control ourselves. And, since we are God breathed vessels and not fish, we have the ability to free ourselves from the nets. 


The ability to say no. To walk away from circumstances that hurt us. From people who discourage us and leave us empty. From the pain we so often swim around in hoping it will one day turn into pleasure. 


Who is your fisherman? Is it a dead end job you are too comfortable in to leave? Is it a family member you love but who continually tears you down and discourages your walk? It is haunting feeling of rejection from someone you love? Or, are you your own fisherman? Telling yourself you are only marginally good when you know you are really capable of inconceivable success and joy?


Whatever your circumstances are, I pray you find the strength to swim out from your net and explore your potential. That you will remember every moment you are God made – fearfully and wonderfully – and no matter what you have done, you are an amazing, intelligent, beautiful (or handsome) individual. That you are more than what’s in the mirror. You are more than what you have been told you aren’t. You are more than the words spoken to or over you that have broken your spirit. 


You have the ability to influence those around you – for better or worse. I pray you use your talents and testimonies for The Lord and for enriching the lives of people you come into contact with. That you don’t forget that even though there are days of low tides, hurt, rejection, frustration… God sees the whole plan. And, even better – He has given us free will. To put to rest the past and the pain and to pursue our purpose. 


        Until next time… xoxo, patty lauren


fallen


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“fallen”


All dressed in white


Sacred words of perfection and adoration


Lifted up from broken pieces, held together by sovereign security


Raised high in the sky


Praised for her rarity


Bright stars circled her crown


Air under her feet


Lulled deep into a sumptuous slumber


A little dust, a little dirt


A tear in her skirt


Awakening from the seventh heaven


Swirling coronas of confusion crashing down


A stumble, a fall


White turned to brown


A torn, dirty gown


fallen down to the ground


…


perfection gone