Pancake Protocol

People weren’t lying when they said that southerners were gracious. For the most part I’ve found people from this area to be polite, formal and kind in ways that you don’t find as often in the north. Not that I actually believe the people here are kinder than the people of the north. But I certainly believe that they’ve had manners bred into them from day one.

Where were our lessons? When did we learn which fork to use with which hand and when? When did the boys learn to open the door for their mothers, sisters, girlfriends and just random ladies on the street? I guess those lessons got lost during impromptu dinners at Fricker’s and surprise breakfasts at Café Marie where we stuffed our faces with chicken wings and giant pancakes, where manners and etiquette were not only unexpected, they were taboo. Proper etiquette for eating giant pancakes when you are four years old varied from rolling it up and eating it with your hands, slicing it up to create dunking sticks, taking a big bite out of the middle, or any other of the fun ways you could think up to consume such and monstrous item. Come to think of it, I would most likely fall back on that same etiquette if faced with a giant pancake today that was proportional to the pancakes of my childhood – but it seems that as I’ve gotten bigger, the pancakes have stayed the same size. There is just no room for etiquette in a face paced pancake eating world.

But should that be the case? It isn’t in the south. And living here now I find myself sometimes wishing I’d been instructed on the proper way to set a table or eat a fancy meal (or pancake). At the same time though, I don’t think 4 year-old Emily would have seen the point of learning such things. Not when the pancake could be eaten with such thoughtful ingenuity, and I certainly would not have agreed to be kept inside to learn about silly girl things. Not when there were fences to climb and lakes to swim in and other such adventures to be had. Come to think of it really, I doubt that 23 year old me would much like taking the time to master such skills either.

But here I am, at the heart of southern hospitality. Let’s just hope some of it rubs off on me while I am running across town from one job to another. If not, I guess I’ll just have to stick to wings and pancake restaurants for the rest of my life. Sounds good to me.

Zeroing in on 2011

There is a moment while I am driving home where I fly past some trees that always make me think I’m getting pulled over. Not because the trees are shaped as cop cars, but because the sun is always perfectly positioned behind them to make it look as if a cops lights are going off so close behind me that he couldn’t possibly be pulling over anyone but me.

The sun seems different here. Closer in a way, or just brighter I suppose. It’s really the clouds that make the difference. The sky is always so blue and the clouds somehow manage to catch the light of the sun and the water to create a wonderful shade of orange and blue that makes me feel as if I’m in a movie scene.

New Year’s Eve was a disaster this year. Although a good way to start a year of working toward zeros. Sticking to my newly discovered workaholic tendencies I decided to work an event at the aquarium. I figured, hey two birds with one stone. I’ll get to drink for free and see the aquarium then get out in time to meet up with some people downtown to bring in the new year. WRONG.

Drinking was possible but futile because I was climbing stairs all night long carrying giant sandwiches to feed to the increasingly intoxicated masses. And this was a site to be seen in itself because this party was one of the more expensive in town and black tie at that but everyone in attendance seemed to be under 22 years old. Honestly a lot of them seemed to be under 21. They were all wearing ball gowns and tuxedos and puking all over the aquarium. At one point the project manager ran past me and said “Oh God, there is puke everywhere out there.” In another eventful turn several of the guests decided to remove some of the animals (turtles) from their displays and race them on the (very sticky) floor of the party.

Security was called. As were the turtle experts. I imagine it went something like this when they called it in.

“Code Green. Code Green. We have turtles out of ponds.” “I repeat. We have displaced turtles on the loose.” “Evacuate the area for incoming turtle experts.” “Code Green. Code Green. Turtle experts are on their way.”

Not that removing a turtle for a little racing is not something I would put past myself in a state of New Year’s Eve inebriation. Let’s not forget the T.I. incident of 2009. Or the Red Headed Ravaging of 2006. It’s New Year’s, things get a little crazy. Which is why it rubbed salt in my already irritated cut of being trapped working on such a day. But I brought it on myself. Why? Because this is 2011. The year of zero’s.

By this time next year I hope to be the proud owner of:
1.Two credit cards with a balance of ZERO.
2.One 2008 Ford Focus on which the remaining balance is ZERO.
3.A student loan payment on which I owe ZERO.
4.Another student loan payment on which there are less ZEROs.
5.ZERO car accidents or traffic tickets.
6.And ZERO regret about the fact that I didn’t save up enough money to go to Europe this summer

So here we go, a year of zero’s. But next New Year’s Eve, watch out turtles. Because here I come.

You can't take it with you: Kaminsky's, Charleston SC

I should have known something was up after the server left our table the first time.

He was too nice. He was just too happy. It wasn't normal.

And it wasn't an insincere happiness either. This man was genuinely thrilled to be there. When I decided to order the berry cobbler his face lit up with pure and unfiltered joy. I should have known then.

A ceramic bowl was placed before me. I could barely make out the crust of cobbler or blue berries beneath the mound of ice cream topped with whipped cream and raspberry sauce. The heat from the cobbler created a steam when it met with the frosty cold ice cream that was smothering it from above.

After the first bite it all made sense.

Who couldn’t be happy here? Who wouldn’t want to live their life serving the most amazing deserts known to man in a tiny room with exposed brick and warm lighting. Why would that server ever want to leave this place. Why would I for that matter?

Once I was able to collect myself I glanced across the table. Nick was staring at me. Wonder and amazement in his eyes.

“What,” I said. Nervous that I’d made some sort of unconscious exclamation that I would die happy now I’d tasted this miraculous cobbler.

“That was the most delicious bite of cake I’ve ever had,” he said. “I’m afraid to take another bite because there is no way anything could ever be better than that bite.”



For the first time I noticed that he had a large slice of white cake sitting in front of him. Our buy one get one free coupon put to good use. His plate was covered in a caramel drizzle. The cake looked as if it had some sort of caramel mixed within the batter. As Anna would say, “the intrinsic nature of the cake was caramelized.” It looked delicious. I couldn’t think about anything but my cobbler.

As I gazed lovingly at my plate, I cursed the delicious dinner we’d just had at a fancy pants restaurant down the street. How dare those oysters and flounder take up room for this masterpiece of a cobbler? What had I been thinking when I ever ate anything but this cobbler. In a sugar induced craze, Nick and I began to make promises we knew we couldn’t keep.

“I’ll never eat anything but this cobbler ever again,” I swore. “If I died now I’d be happy because this cake is all that matters in the world,” he wept.

It was too good. We didn’t even eat it quickly. We savored each bite. Sucked the essence out of every particle of each dish. Neither of us even came close to finishing. And then we realized. We couldn’t take it home. Not only would it prove to be a logistical nightmare. The consistency of both dishes were not suitable for travel. But there was no way to transport the atmosphere and the flavor of that tiny place. It wouldn’t be the same. It would ruin the most delicious thing either of us had ever had. We didn’t want a reheated version of heaven. Not when it was sitting right in front of us.

A delirious laughter took over. We were filled with the simple joy and remorse that comes with the knowledge that you’ve tasted the best, and nothing will ever be as good ever again.

Now, in the light of day, I realize that there is a reason to go on living. Because I can have my slice of heaven again. In fact, it only costs $5.75.

Price of an American Education: the pre/post-graduate dilemma

LSAT - $130
Study Materials - $50
LSAC - $150
Transcripts - $30
Applications (10 schools) - $530

Total Cost of Law School before stepping foot through the doors: $890.00

Average Tuition per year: $25,000
Average Cost of Living per year: $15,000

Total Cost of a Legal Education in America: $120,890.00

How much is too much? At what point do you put a dream in a drawer and lock it shut because it's just not reasonable?

Cost of happiness (for parents and other disapproving relatives)

More and more young 20-something couples that I know are moving in together. In my mind, ignorant as I might be, that seems like a very rational thing to do. On the other hand, when I hear of young 20-something couples getting married it is very difficult to get my mind around it.

I think it is safe to say that the opposite outlook is taken by the older generation.

I find myself having more and more conversations with people who are trying to find a way to break it to their parents that they are going to be living with their significant other with no matrimonial intentions in sight.

Would they rather we all tie the knot for better or for worse? It's just not that generation any longer.

We are the generation of taste testers. The generation of options and careers and travel. Jumping up and moving across the country or the world is a viable option for so many of us. Marriage just seems like something for old people ready to settle down.

Understandably, many parents and older relatives do not want to hear about young couples living together. But what about the obvious cost savings associated with such a choice? Especially for people who have moved somewhere together?

Let's be honest here. If you're dating someone, odds are you are spending most of your time at his or her house anyhow. And I know that parents want to keep up the lovely facade that you only see one another in a chaperoned group on Sunday afternoons. But that is most likely not the case, and deep down they know it.
So why do they make us feel guilty for wanting to live together?

Now, I am not campaigning for a slew of 19 year old college kids to move in with their significant others. But if two intelligent people who obviously get along are both out of school and working doesn’t it make sense for them to live together? Especially if they have moved somewhere together or don’t know many people in their area.

A single apartment, ANYWHERE, averages no less than $700 per month. Then throw in the cost of parking, cable, internet, electric, water and groceries. That is more than $1,200 a month that could be split down the middle. Add in little things like car insurance, car payments, student loans, credit card bills and just the general cost of living, and you’ve got a pretty hefty financial burden being demanded of a young 20-something just out of college with a pathetically low salary at an entry level job.

PARENTS. You are costing your financially independent (and therefore struggling) children more than $10,000 a year in frivolous costs.

Sure, sure – they could live with a random roommate. But what are the odds of THAT working out. Some people are lucky (such as me – xoxo Petra&Olive!) but I’ve also heard horror stories about people who move in with nut jobs or even just with people they don’t mesh with. This isn’t college anymore. We have careers and busy, busy lives and the last thing a struggling young professional needs to worry about is what to expect once they get home from a hectic day at work.

So what is the answer? Who knows. Because when it comes down to it, a lot of families are not going to budge on this issue. And a lot of young adults are going to have to find a way to pay for the cost of keeping their parents and relatives happy.

Snow in the South

Snow has been a hot topic of conversation in Charleston this week. Is it or isn't it? Will it or won't it?

I've heard the possibilities discussed in a million different ways and yet...no snow. In fact, no one even seems to be wearing coats. Now - it is cold. And people are clearly expecting snow on some level. But for some reason, coats seem to have disappeared in the south.

This is even more fascinating because about two months ago, when I was still wearing tank tops and shorts. People here began wearing uggs and north face jackets as if they were preparing for inevitable cold front. I was hot just looking at them. But now that it is actually cold, it's as if the entire population has changed their minds. Mother Nature called their bluff and they aren't having it. People are walking around in long sleeved tees and jeans while talking casually about the snow that may or may not ever arrive.

Very strange bunch these southerners.

Perhaps it's because they all keep their homes and offices at a temperate 75 degrees. They know that even if they're cold for a moment it won't last long.

Or maybe, like me at the moment, they just don't own winter jackets. Because although winter does come in the south. It doesn't stay long. And perhaps the vast majority of southerners prefer to just suffer through the two cold winter months and refuse to purchase a bulky winter coat that will take up a large portion of minimal downtown closet space. Or maybe they're all just nuts.


Can't wait to see what happens if it actually snows. Against my better judgment I'm going to go ahead and make a broad assumption and say that most Charleston residents don't have a whole lot of experience driving in the snow.

The bridges should be especially fun. For anyone that doesn't know. Downtown Charleston is a peninsula, so to get anywhere you have to use one of three very, very large bridges. I can only imagine the chaos that will ensue if any of those bridges becomes covered with snow and then thousands of terrified South Carolinians attempt to drive over it. Yikes.

Tax Cuts and Coffee

I heard something very interesting while driving to work this morning that made me think of our struggling president and it gave me a moment to turn recent events around in my head a bit.

As it turns out, bold coffee typically has the least amount of caffeine. This obviously turned my world upside down. All this time I have been fooled by the basic assumption that BOLD = STRONG.

Well, that's what you get for making broad assumptions with little to no research to back it up.

Apparently, bold coffee beans are cooked longer and as a result lose some of the natural materials that create the caffeine we Americans love so much.

Bold does not necessarily mean strong. So, given the basic logical equations - one could assume that a lack of boldness does not necessarily mean a lack of strength. Can this apply to the country? Just because the president is not making the boldest moves - does that automatically mean that he is not strong? That he will not give this country the energy boost it so desperately requires?

Now I have not been blown away by Obama. I have not read about what he is doing and thought, "WOW - thank God he is President." But let's be fair here. The man was given a field with poor soil and told to make it into a productive farm. And he took that challenge. But after he took it they threw a curveball, "Oh by the way, you can't use any tools. And your entire crew just quit."

Extending Bush tax cuts was a strange move in a lot of ways. The general idea of saving less and spending more doesn't seem like a great plan. It was in fact, a very not bold move. And at first I saw it as a collapse of Obama’s strength under the constant pressure of Republican opposition.

Do you know what the stated number one priority is of the Republican Party?

To deny President Obama a second term.

They actually said that. They have actually said that no matter what he does - they will fight him. No matter how many times he tries to get them to agree with him - to work alongside their Democratic counterparts - they will fight him.

No matter how I feel about our present Commander In Chief – that’s a tough burden to bear.

But after learning about the coffee I have second guessed my perception of our president's strength.

Perhaps Obama is not making bold moves. But when you look at the situation he has put himself in, apparently he has the strength to take on the Republican Party and the Democratic Party in order to find the balance that our country requires.

Change takes time. And maybe Obama wasn't the best choice - but he was the choice that was made and maybe, just maybe, if someone would allow him to continue making his (not so bold) moves. He will give us the strength we need. And who knows, perhaps if we let him cook a little longer our president will grow bolder and his strength will be taken up by the American people. Or he could burn and ruin the whole pot. But let’s keep it optimistic.

Then again. This is a comparison of coffee to politics, so don't take anything you read here too much to heart.