Dear Lucia, I'm still dreaming about your bread.

A lot of hype over a new restaurant doesn't always mean greatness, but in the case of Lucia, it most certainly does.  And lucky us!  This cozy, rustic Italian restaurant that the The New York Times recently called "the best new restaurant in Texas right now" just happens to be in our neighborhood.  Tables are booked for two months in advance, so it was quite a treat when we found the only open time slot - 5:30pm on a Tuesday night - and our dear friends and business partners, Mark and Stephanie Bowlin, kindly treated us to an unforgettable dinner.   I even pulled out my ancient 'ole faithful black dress from 2001 for the occasion.

Lucia is set in an adorable storefront in the Bishop Arts District.  The hubby and I were a wee bit eager to have a date without a toddler in tow and arrived at the restaurant before our friends at 5:30pm on the dot.  Our hearts sank to our toes, though, when we saw a sign in the window that said, "Closed for Private Party."  A few seconds later, co-owner Jennifer Uygur popped her head in the window and we asked with trepidation, "Wait, a-a-a-are you closed tonight?  We had reservations..."  She laughed and answered, "Oh, heavens no!  That was for last night.  Come on in!"

I liked Jennifer immediately.  {And hello, cool spoon chandelier!}

Inside, Lucia was warm and inviting, decorated with mismatched cushions on the benches and shelves lined with homemade preserves and jams...

While the chefs began to prepare for dinner in the open kitchen, we settled in at the bar and savored a bowl of warm, tangy olives and a chilled glass of Prosecco.  Perfect for this Italian girl and Italian-at-heart Asian boy...

Shortly after, Mark and Stephanie arrived, and we got first dibs on a bright table in the front window.   We all agreed that we wanted to take this meal of lovingly-prepared comfort food as slowly as possible and told our server so.  After all, it's not often that we have the opportunity to share food like this, with close friends, on a beautiful fall evening.

Lucia's menu changes everyday and is broken into 4 courses: antipasto (appetizer), primi (first course), secondi (second course) and dolci (dessert).

For antipasto, we shared the house-cured meat platter, as well as the the crispy pork-belly with a slow-cooked egg. 

They were both melt-in-your-mouth phenomenal.

We didn't hesitate to dig in...

And then came the bread - a hunk of homemade Italian bread so beautiful, I almost wept.

Perfectly crispy crust, soft and chewy and buttery on the inside...I had to restrain myself from eating only bread for the rest of the meal.

Yes, we were very happy indeed...

To go with the main course, we chose a bottle of dry Italian red wine that tasted more and more like vanilla as the night went on.  It also had the amazing ability to make me sillier and sillier as the night went on.

For the first course, I spotted my choice on the menu immediately: Autumn squash ravioli with amaretti (cookies!), brown butter, and sage.   

CRUMBLED COOKIES ON TOP OF PASTA?  This must be a dream...

We also tried the soft ricotta gnocchi, probably the best gnocchi I've ever had.

...and that's where the food photos end.  Yes, there was a second course and dessert, but by that point, the light in the restaurant was too low for photos and Mommy was well into that bottle of wine.

Afterwards, the very full and happy foursome...

Before returning home, we decided to walk off all those carbs by strolling around the Bishop Arts District which was lit with white twinkle lights, street lanterns, and the full moon.  Our neighborhood is the best part of Dallas if you ask me...

It's now two weeks later, and I'm still dreaming about that ravioli.  And that big 'ole beautiful hunk 'o bread.

Thank you, Lucia.  You gave me one of the most beautiful meals I've had this side of Italy.   You made me miss my homeland, but you made me love Dallas even more.

You know you have a toddler when...

  • You find a wooden letter "M" in your dishwasher, raisins in the toilet, and a white paper towel "carpet" spread down the hallway.  All in one day.
  • You no longer have to exercise because all you do all day is "exercise" - squats, lunges, walking, dead lifts - yup, all of the above.
  • You laugh...a lot.  Even when you shouldn't.  Like when you see your daughter out of the corner of your eye standing on a suitcase to gingerly reach for a stapler on the desk, hoping you won't notice.
  • There is more food on the floor than on the table at the end of a meal.
  • You re-dress your child about 55 times a day.  What is it with toddlers always wanting to take their shoes, socks, and pants off?  As I type this, my daughter just took off her fleece slipper and put it on my keyboard.
  • You realize that to bathe, you must either a) take a lightning-speed shower during naptime, or b) take a normal length shower, but be okay with your toddler sitting on the bottom of the shower playing with a plastic tugboat and sea animals between your feet.
  • You sing "Jesus Loves Me" and "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" several times a day, with hand motions.
  • You know that things are a lot more exciting these days, because having a toddler means that the world is full of wonder every day.

Moms, do you have any to add to the list?

Free downloads: autumn desktop wallpaper.

I had so much fun with the spring desktop wallpaper that I decided to make a few autumn versions.  I took all the color photos at the peak of autumn at Ken Lockwood Gorge in Clinton, NJ.  The last photo is one of my favorites from autumn in New York City - it's a curb in Central Park.

Just click the link below each one for your screen size to download. Enjoy!

1280 x 960 | 1024 x 768 | 800 x 600

1280 x 960 | 1024 x 768 | 800 x 600

1280 x 960 | 1024 x 768 | 800 x 600

1280 x 960 | 1024 x 768 | 800 x 600

A prayer for today.

Morning, today.

"Lord, help me now to unclutter my life, to organize myself in the direction of simplicity.  Lord, teach me to listen to my heart; teach me to welcome change, instead of fearing it.  Lord, I give you these stirrings inside me.  I give you my discontent.  I give you my restlessness.  I give you my doubt.  I give you my despair.  I give you all the longings I hold inside.  Help me to listen to these signs of change, of growth; help me to listen seriously and follow where they lead through the breathtaking empty space of an open door."

~ from Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals