Jen S. Dean

As the warmth of the remainder of a fire still envelopes my toes and I sit with two of my favorite living creatures – one furry, one less so – I cannot imagine a better place to rest. As I flip through the pages of a long awaited magazine volume betwixt stirring a fresh batch of oats, I find an unblemished contentment in winter. The blustery cold, the naked tree limbs and the knowledge that another year will soon pass are no match for what the new year holds, for what the evening holds.

May each of you find moments of peace as you transition into a new year. And may all of you – at one time or another – say to yourself, “I am perfectly content.”

I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address. On the other hand, this not knowing has its charms.

– Tom Hanks in You’ve Got Mail

Each year, as autumn approaches, I take on a feeling of youthful giddiness. I am apt to incorporate a spring to my step, often leading to even a skip, and I tend to utter the quote above on a number of occasions. The one person in my life who seems to have an equal affinity for newly sharpened pencils is, Q, my nephew. Present Q with a pencil and he is ecstatic. Follow the pencil with a notebook and you may not see him again for hours.

Today Q begins his tenure as a first grader. Long ago are the days of kindergarten and exposure to education. I fondly remember Q’s confusion when, on the second day of kindergarten, he was told that he would be going back to school. “I already went to school”, he said. It seems, when you are five years old, that the concept of school is a wee bit mind-blowing.

However, after a few weeks as a kindergartener, Q transformed into a complete learning machine. Honestly, he seemed to have blown the off switch. First it was letters, then numbers, and then his level of comprehension blew straight through the roof! School, for Q, created a monster. (A furry, snuggly monster, of course.)

Over the summer, Q and I began writing a book together. In the style of Mad Libs, I sent Q a sheet of paper with a plethora of blanks to fill in. To be frank, I was not entirely sure how he would take to the concept and I knew his mother would need to assist in the endeavor. Qualms aside, I remained hopeful as I mailed Chapter 1 and a set of instructions.

Although the book is a work in progress, Q and I are off to an admirable start. When I received Chapter 1 back in the mail, I was pleased to see that Q filled in each blank and that, over the summer, his writing only improved. Chapter 3 is next and I foresee a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils attached.

Bright and early this morning Q will awake to find that sleeping late and days of leisure are a thing of the past. Early alarm clocks, packed lunches and homework will take precedence. As the days pass and our video chats resume, I will find myself utterly amazed at his newly acquired knowledge and, at times, nostalgic for the days when I was “Jenper” to this little boy. I am not sure who will be more excited, Q or me, to rehash the first week with all of its adventures. However, one thing is certain, The Adventures of Q is back. Prepare yourselves for the first grade, readers.

For all of my recent talk of formalities and grammar, I feel as if I should swing the pendulum a bit and dare to walk on the other side of the pedantic road. While formulating a strong resume and knowing your punctuation well enough to start an internet revolution is of importance, it is of no more importance than the written word itself. Commas mean very little if your vocabulary is dim and your imagination left in 1986, somewhere underneath your card table forts and dreams of being a marine biologist who invents houses in which humans commune with sparkly starfish. No. Commas, clauses and concerns about the overuse of the exclamation point are but side notes of good writing. Written craftsmanship comes from within; and the really good stuff emerges from the depths where, during the daylight, most of us are afraid to go past the age of eight. When I expressed my concern over the state of written things, I meant not to deal exclusively with what is learned within a book of grammar. My concern lies just as much with an overall disinterest in developing a voice, with but a lazy desire to expand one’s vocabulary, and a general disregard for the imagination.

Developing one’s voice is imperative for good writing. Developing one’s voice is essential for having opinions, making a stand and involving oneself in any type of activity that requires but a morsel of passionate enthusiasm. Developing one’s voice does not include mimicking or learning to say “baaa” on cue. One’s voice is constructed from interests, affections and missions beyond the surface. One’s voice is composed of failures, mistakes and instances of blubbery. Finding one’s voice is making discoveries, such as one’s propensity to use the word blubbery primarily because one finds the word both aptly descriptive and amusing. Finding one’s voice is essential to having something to say and knowing how to say it.

Verisimilitude. What a word. One almost hisses as the word rolls off the tongue, onto the lips and into the air. There are words that may strike one’s fancy that are locked up in a dictionary, or novel, all bursting at the seams waiting to be discovered. Words stay inside books when the pages are not turned by fingers aching to make new discoveries. It seems cruel actually, trapping words inside of books. If the words are not allowed to jump around from one set of eyes to another, what use are they? Why were they written at all? Seeking out words acquaints one with new ways of expression, fires up the imagination and facilitates newly formed affections. As a child I created new words for everything. I made up code words, adjectives and monikers. I am still apt to let a new word escape from my mouth, especially during bouts of delirium or inspiration. Finding reading but a bore only limits one’s ability to be amused. For, when one abhors the written word, one sees to it that they are kept here on earth, poking fun at those sitting and giggling in card table fort spaceships, creating words such as fortspacing and gravitumbling.

If one shows disregard for card table fort spaceships or any other variety of imaginative space craft, it is almost guaranteed that their desire to form attachments to words or craft finely tuned stories will be null. Taking oneself too seriously, too often, is a surefire way to lose track of what is important. A quick viewing of the movie “Hook” is enough to acquaint any attorney with the tragedy of abandoning one’s imagination. One does not need to be an attorney to forget the simple pleasures though. Shying away from what lurks within, no matter how silly or childish it may seem, only keeps you grounded. This paragraph is not to condone shucking it all and quitting one’s profession to become a cobbler for elves in the North Pole but merely a reminder to leave the ground every now and then. Finding oneself enamored with a children’s book or a newly discovered adjective may be all it takes to let one’s inner space captain fly.

While I highly suggest all persons have a propensity toward knowing how to communicate effectively through the use of grammar, punctuation and sentence structure, I also suggest that everyone allow themselves to find enjoyment in what they are writing. There is a good chance that you will bore us all if you do not. If this is troublesome, choose a new word, let it roll off your tongue and delight in the sensation of the consonants and vowels as they make their way into the air you breathe. Verisimmmmmmmmilitude. For further inspiration, watch the video below as Stephen Fry spouts off about the fresh sensuousness of language.

I cannot think of the words Oxford comma without immediately visualizing Lacoste polos, sail boats and Ezra Koenig’s dark hair flopping about as he strums his way through a bucolic Wes Anderson-esque setting. In all honesty, this is a far more enticing visual than a set of rules on when to use an Oxford, or serial, comma.

This is not the case for a slew of Americans who, after a (false) Tweet, decided to take up arms against the demise of the Oxford comma. I am often surprised by the bandwagons we Americans jump on. Looking at our culture as a whole, I can hardly believe people are up in arms over a punctation mark. Really? Did you read my previous post?

So why, all of a sudden, are Americans touting their “treasured” comma as the savior of the English language? Is this a countermovement to the Tea Party? Intellectuals for Punctuation Rights! In order to have a basis for our assessment, let us first discuss what an Oxford comma is.

As defined in the Oxford Dictionary:

Oxford comma – n. a comma immediately preceding the conjunction in a list of items.

To clarify further, an Oxford comma is used in a series. For this reason, it is often called a serial comma. For instance, in the following sentence, the comma before the and is an Oxford comma.

I enjoy using correct grammar, punctuation, and spelling.

It seems fairly straightforward, right? Well, there are a variety of style guides that declare a different set of rules. Depending on your university, profession or supervisor(s), you may be required to use a guide that does not endorse the Oxford comma. Let’s explore the three major guides and their guidelines on when to use/not use a serial comma.

Chicago Manual of Style

Serial commas: Items in a series are normally separated by commas. When a conjunction joins the last two elements in a series of three or more, a comma – known as the serial or series comma or the Oxford comma – should appear before the conjunction. Chicago strongly recommends this widely practiced usage, blessed by Fowler and other authorities, since it prevents ambiguity. If the last element consists of a pair joined by and, the pair should still be preceded by a serial comma and the first and. Example: She took a photograph of her parents, the president, and the vice president.

The Elements of Style by Strunk and White

In a series of three or more terms with a single conjunction, use a comma after each term except the last.
Thus write,
red, white, and blue
gold, silver, or copper
He opened the letter, read it, and made a note of its contents.

AP Style Guide

Use commas to separate elements in a series, but do not put a comma before the conjunction in a simple series: The flag is red, white and blue. He would nominate Tom, Dick or Harry.
Put a comma before the concluding conjunction in a series, however, if an integral element of the series requires a conjunction: I had orange juice, toast, and ham and eggs for breakfast.
Use the comma also before concluding conjunction in a complex series of phrases: The main points to consider are whether the athletes are skillful enough to compete, whether they have the stamina to endure the training, and whether they have the proper mental attitude.

The Chicago Manual of Style and The Elements of Style by Strunk and White both endorse the Oxford comma. The AP Style Guide, however, does not. So is this battle merely a tug of war between institutions? AP vs. America Smackdown? As we come out of this haze of comma delirium, perhaps there is but one uniting thing we can all take with us to the notepad, or keyboard.

Consistency.

Without consistency you have no leg to stand on. Whether you are drafting a work email or writing a thesis, be consistent. Read the style guides, and soak in the vast and frequently conflicting array of information. Determine what makes the most sense for you and stick to it. Or, use the guide that your employer/profession demands. The guide you choose as your style Bible, you should know like the back of your hand. Don’t forget the areas between the fingers as well.

After all, if you’re going to give a f— about something, you should know a little something about it.

I am concerned about the state of writing in this country. I am concerned that individuals no longer take the time to view the written word as a valuable and insightful means of communication. Text abbreviations, one liner emails and the generality that no one has the time to use greetings and salutations seems to reveal more about our culture than perhaps some of us would like to admit.

Before I foster any sense of disregard about what I have ascertained due to my own partiality toward the written word, let me issue my disclaimer. I am a writer at heart. For as long as I can remember, I am the one who writes the longest letters, emails and always insists upon a hand-written thank you note. I communicate most naturally through written communication. So I am fully cognizant of the fact that I may be an exception, not everyone seeks out an opportunity to write. This is often (painfully) apparent in email responses in which I write a detailed, yet concise, proposal to a problem only to receive a “sure – sounds great” response sans greeting, salutation or acknowledgement of my ability to carefully construct an elegant solution. So, I do not feel as though my emails are appreciated – that is a personal issue and one that I only take to heart in the rarest or most personal situations, years into my life. My point is to clearly acknowledge that I do things a bit differently and while it was a lesson learned, I accepted this years ago resulting in me also expecting that everyone does things a bit differently, in their own way. My concern lies primarily in the fact that I continue to see evidence of those whose written communication leaves much to be desired and may even be to their detriment. What is appropriate in a text message is not appropriate in a written letter and, no matter what your friends say, spelling is important.

Over the past two weeks, I have reviewed a dozen, or two, resumes for an open position within development at the university. At the Kimbell, I reviewed hundreds of resumes a year so my current thoughts on the state of resumes is anything but new. However, here is a proper recounting of what I found this past week. Eight out of thirteen cover letters had more than one obvious grammatical, spelling or punctuation error. As I flipped the pages, seven of the resumes also contained more than one grammatical, spelling or punctuation error. When I say obvious error, I mean the type of error that took only a brief glance at the document to find. Statistically, we are looking at sixty two percent of the cover letters and fifty four percent of the resumes having more than one obvious error.

My greatest disappointment was a third year journalism student whose cover letter contained ten – yes, ten – errors. When I turned the page to see that the top page of her resume listed her major as journalism, my heart sank. You, dear applicant, are supposed to be a master of the written word. You have specialized training, your course requirements include a full immersion into the world of editing, you are an ambassador of literary endeavors.

Perhaps this dear applicant views the title of ambassador as merely a responsibility, rather than an honor. Perhaps that is where some of our problem regarding the state of writing lies – perception compounded by laziness. Good writing requires practice and a bit of devotion. It requires you to be moderately voracious in your reading, for through reading we expand our vocabularies and gain exposure to a variety of styles. It requires one to routinely excavate, in order to develop a voice. It is work. As anyone who gets up every morning, showers and makes it to the office before 9 a.m. will tell you, work is often merely a matter of perception. If you visualize the rewards it is but a means of achieving. If you only see the tasks, the hours and the stack of paperwork, it hardly seems worth it. If writing is but a stack of books, paper and pencils to be sharpened, why bother. However, if it is a gateway into your imagination, if it unlocks the deepest parts of your being, if it allows for upward mobility and if it can reveal your deepest aspirations – it is perhaps the greatest tool you have. If your writing is the means by which you can achieve, i.e. your resume which enables you to gain employment, is it not worth the effort to make sure you are invested in yourself?

I am concerned. Not complacent. Simply, concerned.

Emily & Jen: The Background

Julia Child had a pen pal who became her dear friend. In her day, correspondence was primarily composed of letters sent via postal service. In our modern times, pen pals take on a variety of forms. So, when Jen first visited fellow food lover Emily’s blog, a friendship based upon blog comments and, later, thoughtful emails, was established.

Over the past several months, Emily and Jen both have moved, left previous lives behind, and are currently in the process of forging a new existence. When Jen emailed Emily recently, suggesting a blog collaboration, Emily jumped right on board.

As partners in this blogging adventure, we hope to inspire ourselves to delve deeply into topics that are affecting our lives and share them in a creative way with our readers (in hopes of inspiring you all, as well).

Our First Collaborative Post: The Inspiration

When we began thinking about our first collaborative post, we quickly came upon the idea of empowerment and what it means to us. As individuals, we have different ideas and ways of feeling empowered yet, as women and like-minded friends, some of our ideas are the same.

As such, our first post explores our personal definitions of empowerment and how we each feel empowered in our daily lives. The lyrics below serve as inspiration for this post, as the idea of making a life saving vessel out of only one’s own scraps resonated heavily with us.

“Wandering Kind”
by: Laura Veirs

Clogging on her wooden board
The tattooed girl took up her swords
And plunged them down deep into the earth
A twinkling tide filled up her eyes
And poured out to the lawn
Made a raft of the scraps from her skirt
And sailed ’til dawn

Read Emily’s Post on Empowerment

Jen’s Post:
Is it just me or does empowerment feel like a dirty word at times? It implies selfishness, brute feminism, or perhaps a slew of forgettable self-help books. The truth is, empowerment is a bit of a dirty word as it often entails digging deep down in the dirt and muck to find out what one is really made of. For, you cannot feel empowered if you haven’t scoured the deep, dark crevices of your own self. Empowerment isn’t frivolous nor is it made of the tiny particles seemingly resting upon your sleeve. Empowerment is finding confidence and determination with what resides within.

I cannot continue writing without baring my soul a bit. So, to be frank, the last two months have resulted in me down on my knees, more than once. The surface level things – a move, a new city, unemployment, adjusting to my husband’s new career, having no local support network – are all valid however; they do not describe the intensity of the past two months. To preface what am I am about to say, let me first reveal that, on some level, I knew this was coming and I willingly took the shovel and flashlight out of the shed in order to facilitate the excavation.

In mid-January I took a private yoga class. The following day I ordered a book, a mat, mat towel, block, and strap. In simpler terms, I ordered a beginner’s excavation set. I began yoga not as a way to be fit but as a holistic means of progressing on my own life journey. I began reading my book, Journey Into Power by Baron Baptiste, and working through the asanas (poses) described. Within two weeks, I began attending class. First, a class in which breath is of utmost importance and asanas are held for extended periods of time at the beginning of the week. Then, a mid-week class that incorporated meditation into this regimen. The classes were in addition to a one hour practice five to six days a week. I was (am) not fooling around.

About three weeks into my practice, I found my breath. All of a sudden I was breathing from a place deep within. As I made my way through practice, I felt as though a furnace had been ignited in the darkest depths of my being. I felt powerful in a way I was unfamiliar with. I felt awakened. But, the awakening was not all rainbows and moonbeams.

Fast forward a bit to a Sunday evening when, for the first time in a very long time, I had a minor anxiety attack. The remarkable occurrence during this experience was that I was able to disconnect through the experience and see my anxiety for what it was. In fact, I was able to readily admit the anxiety I felt and speak honestly about what brought me here. I wish I could say that this was the end of my transformation but it was not. The following week resulted in sobbing almost every day coupled with intense feelings of vulnerability and insecurity. Oh, my shovel was digging deep indeed.

I felt anything but empowered for a few weeks yet I knew this was my journey to be upon. Rather than abandoning my daily yoga practice, I made my way to the mat, willing to experience what the hour may bring. I have now moved into a new series in my yoga practice and I feel like mush each day at the end of my hour. In fact, I came back to child’s pose on more than one occasion yesterday during practice, something I have not done before. The significance of this for me, is that I was able to acknowledge that I needed to find my breath again before I moved forward. It was not about pressing on or using brute force to achieve my goals but rather having the confidence to find what I needed within to move forward.

Last week, when carrying several heavy items up the stairs in our home, instead of rushing up the stairs, I maintained a steady breath and deliberately ascended the stairs. When I arrived at the top, I felt calm and steady, rather than as if I could collapse. On more than one occasion this past week, I reacted calmly to things that normally would cause a marked increase in heart rate, as I reminded myself that I was capable of handling the situation. And, as I have rediscovered ballet after fifteen years, I am able to use the strength in my core and well-developed breathing to dance much like I did years ago. I find that the willingness to accept myself as I am whilst pushing myself to find my true potential, on the mat, is beginning to take place during my normal daily existence as well.

More often than not, when we take up our swords and plunge them deep into the earth, it happens over a period of time as opposed to instantaneously. And the crafting of a raft made of skirt scraps is an incredibly introspective process. What is remarkable about the process is that, one day you look up and you are sailing. You do not necessarily remember piecing the scraps together.

It just so happens that I have found a means of acceptance, strength, and respect for myself through yoga. Had I embarked upon this journey one, or two, years ago, I may not have experienced the same results. I remember when I attended that first private lesson my instructor asked me what brought me to her. I said, “I want a holistic experience. I want to continue on the physical, mental, and spiritual path I am on. I feel like this is the right time.” Her response? “Yes, I think you are ready.”

Feeling empowered is knowing that your pieces acknowledge all parts of yourself. That every scrap represents a part of you and that it takes each piece to make a raft. I spent a lot of time thinking that some of my scraps were shameful and not worthy of being a part of my raft. Through my recent journey, I am discovering that although there may be some pieces that I will allow the tides to wear down over time, as they will no longer be needed, every last one of my scraps is integral to the functioning of my raft. While others may not need them, they are mine and they are worthy. I have a well constructed raft.

And, as Bob said in What About Bob?, “I’m sailing! I’m a sailor! I sail! On a boat, on the lake. Very far away from the dock. Into the wind, with the sky and everything!”

I feel just like that at times. I, am sailing.

I am curious to know what makes each of you, dear readers, feel empowered. Or, in what areas of your life would you like to feel more empowered? Each of us has a story to tell and I am all ears (and eyes), ready to hear yours.

Note: A very special thank you to Em, a dear friend. Your support, kindness, and sense of humor are invaluable. I look forward to many more collaborations with you. And, happy running, o’ empowered one!

With another snowstorm this week, I am ready to reacquaint myself with the sun. Spring, how about you and I set a date to rendezvous?

If the cold temperatures, dreary weather, and snow drifts were not enough to leave one hankering for Spring, the latest websites and blogs are rolling out clothes made for sunny beaches and warm travels. Oh, French nautical stripes, I do love you.

My usual, accessible favorite is J.Crew. I love their very French, yet very mid-century looks this season. I have my eye on a few pieces, namely a navy, wide brimmed hat.

I love these striped pieces as well. Mettre sur le soleil!

And to go with them…

And, if you needed a little extra J. Crew in your life, here is a great look at L.A. Hello, Case Study House #22 (and jerky doctor from Mad Men)!

“Well, hello there, guest(s). Welcome to your room!”

This is something I look forward to saying in the near future. Jason and I quickly put together our guest room so that those we love will have a comfy place to stay upon their arrival to Northwest Arkansas. We anticipate our first houseguest to be Jason’s mother, as she is scheduled to spend four days with us in March. We also expect Jason’s grandfather to visit in April, during his trek to Indiana. You may have noticed a trend here, all scheduled houseguests are part of Jason’s family. So, come on Jen’s family! (wink wink, nudge nudge)

In order to entice those we love to bring on the suitcases, let me take you on a brief tour.

Upon entering the room, the wall to your right is full of black and white photos. They provide a soothing introduction into the room. Feel the enticement…aaaaaaahhhhhhh.

Allowing your gaze to move around to the left, you will see the guest bed/great place to sit upon with your laptop, or a book.

The bed is a purchase from DWR – thanks to their super convenient sleeper sale in January! The bolster adjusts to three different positions and the top mattress folds onto the floor to make a bed just a hair bigger than a queen size mattress. So, couples will sleep well – all comfy and cozy.

As you can see, Cosby loves it.

Our guest room also moonlights as our office area. We have our desk and desktop computer in this room as well. The desk is a great place for our dinosaurs to roam. Raaaaahhhhhrrrrrrr!

Don’t worry, they are very quiet at night, as they mostly read or listen to light jazz tunes on the radio.

My grandfather’s globe also resides in the office/guest room, as it sat in his home office for many years.

One day I would like to have a large map in this room where those that stay with us can pinpoint where they live via thumbtacks. For now, Cosby enjoys this room the most. However, he stated that he will gladly share the space with any that come this way.

I have a bit of a dilemma. I am debating the inclusion of running into my fitness repertoire. So, let me give you a little background into my relationship with running and then I welcome your thoughts.

I began running about six years ago when I quit smoking. I smoked for ten years. Quitting was difficult. Very difficult. However, I just stopped one day. And I never picked up a cigarette again. When I quit, I was constantly restless. Running allowed me to pound the pavement and release some of that energy. So, I would run a block or two, walk a block or two, etc. I struggled with running – as I have struggled with breathing since I was a child – due to allergies, growing up around smokers, seasonal bouts of asthma, etc. But, aside from hanging a punching bag in my apartment, running was the the only thing that helped me calm down. So, I did my best.

I stopped running after a while, for a year or two. Then, I slowly picked it back up again. I began to run on the treadmill as I did not have to worry about the weather. So, I would run in intervals. Two minutes of running, a minute of walking, rinse, and repeat. This lasted for another couple of years. I was not particularly consistent and I was not training for anything. I just liked to run at times.

A few months ago, I just decided to keep running one day. No intervals. Just running. I ran for about twelve minutes. And now I run for just over twenty minutes or so. For me, that is a great accomplishment. Although I did it over an extended span of time, it is progress. To me, it says a lot about who I was six years ago and who I am now – both physically and mentally.

Here is where my struggle comes in. I am not really a runner. I don’t run for an hour, I don’t do marathons, I am not into training. I just run because I am able to get that fabulous runner’s high in twenty minutes and it feels good stomping out restless energy at times. However, my body suffers because of it. I feel tight and confined in my hips most days after running. In my yoga class I see that this is common amongst runners. Running is indeed hard on one’s body. Most people are not able to run after a certain point in their lives even if they were dedicated runners before. It takes its toll.

In addition, thus far, getting to the gym every day is a feat in itself since we moved here. With snow every week and temperatures often in the single digits, the short trek to the gym is not appealing on most days. So, sticking to a schedule and/or running every day is not possible, right now. This may change in time.

Factor in that I am devoted to my yoga practice and I hope to acquire a job soon, meaning I will go back to getting up at 5:30 for a workout and have little time in the evenings (especially when I begin classes). If I had it my way, I would find a convenient place with adult dance classes and do those in conjunction with yoga. I grew up a dancer, it feels right to my body. But, adult dance classes are often not “real” dance classes or are very difficult to find.

So, here are my questions for you, readers.

1. Do any of you have similar experience with running and its effects on one’s body? If so, how did you overcome or change your routine to better accommodate your needs?

2. Do any of you practice yoga regularly AND engage in other methods of fitness? If so, how do you fit both into your daily routine?

3. Do any of you know of a dance studio in Northwest Arkansas that has classes for adults?

I welcome your thoughts as I ponder what is right for me at this time. Meditate on it, think about it during your run, whatever works best for you. For now, I have a yoga mat to attend to.

Butternut squash is perhaps my favorite vegetable during the late fall and winter months. Steamed, roasted, pureed – I will gladly eat it any way. From its buttery sweet taste on the tongue to the way it mixes with flavors such as nutmeg, pepper, goat cheese, and olive oil. At no other time of the year am I able to push the good ol’ sweet potato over in favor of another orange veggie.

With the acquisition of a gorgeous Magimix food processor for my birthday, I made a butternut squash soup last week along with herb butter atop our crusty bread for dipping. However, this did not quite satisfy my cravings for the winter squash so, this week I decided to make a butternut squash, potato, and arugula tart. Based upon a recipe from my favorite French expatriate, Beatrice Peltre, conquering a tart seemed like the perfect thing to do for a spectacular lunch.

Upon moving to Northwest Arkansas, I have found it a bit difficult to find everything I need for cooking at one store. For those of you that read The Dean Files regularly, you know of my love for Ozark Natural Foods (ONF). I truly love this store and everyone who works there. However, they do not always carry everything I need, especially for unique or gourmet recipes. So, very often, I find myself visiting 2-4 stores in one day to meet all my grocery list needs. This can be a bit frustrating, as grocery shopping becomes a half day experience. When doing my tart shopping, for instance, I started at ONF, made my way over to Target, scooted over to Pinnacle Station, and ended up at Harp’s in search of arugula and puff pastry. I get a wee bit tired just talking about it but needless to say, I was ecstatic when I finally left Harp’s with every item checked off my list.

I first made a tart last year and loved the result. Upon venturing into tart territory again this year, I think I am now ready to experiment with a variety of toppings. With a good knowledge of prepping and cooking the pastry, how to prep/cook certain toppings before placing them on the pastry, and about how long it takes to make this all happen, I am ready to embark upon an entirely new adventure in tarting soon.

For this delicious tart, I roasted the squash, boiled the potatoes, and sliced the onions whilst the pastry chilled (after prepping) in the fridge. I also mixed fresh ricotta, tarragon, thyme, salt, pepper in a bowl for the first layer.

After a good chill and smoothing the cheese mixture across the pastry, up to one inch from the edge, it was time to spread the veggies on top.

Half an hour later and viola! Jason and I sliced it up and enjoyed the sweet, savory taste of the tart.

Next time I will double the amount of squash that I roast, as we both found that was our favorite flavor. However, it was quite delicious and we saved half for lunch the following day. Twenty minutes in a 300 degree oven did just the trick for a fresh slice.

What are you cooking up for yourself during this cold and blustery part of the year?