Easy creamy basil balsamic dressing

Put it on anything: salad, chicken, fish, veggies, cooked grains... it's delicious.

One warning... it kinda looks unpleasant. If you want a less poopy brown colored dressing, substitute a champagne or white wine vinegar... but I like balsamic, so what if it makes brown dressing?!

--2 handfuls of basil (blanch in boiling water for about 15-20 seconds. basically make sure that the boiling water touches each leaf. I blanch in a stainless steel wire mesh strainer so that the leaves can't get away and then you can shake all the water off with the same utensil.
--About 1 tbsp of olive oil mayo or homemade mayo
--1 tbsp+ of balsamic vinegar
--extra virgin olive oil needs to double the amount of balsamic vinegar used, so lets say 2 tbsp evoo
--sea salt
--white pepper

After the basil is blanched, shake off all the water and splat it into a blender, then add the other ingredients. Hit the liquefy button on your blender and boom, you have an amazing creamy balsamic and basil dressing that tastes great and makes everything dipped or tossed in it better, I promise.

Side note: I use sea salt out of a grinder and that is about 5 grinds for this recipe, about 10-15 grinds for your pepper mill. And don't use already ground pepper; it tastes like nothing. I don't even know why it exists on restaurant tables.

Oh and fun fact that you might not know, black pepper doesn't digest in your body. It sticks in the little grooves of your intestines... so keep that in mind. I still use plenty of black pepper, but I use other kinds of spice and chiles to spice foods up once I learned this fun fact.  Health side effects of those small folds of your intestines being clogged with black pepper?  WHO knows.

Never leave a mark.

She sat in the airport staring at her hands, picking non-existent dirt from under her fingernails, pushing back her cuticles with the tip of her thumb. She had no cuticles left; she had done this so many times – a cover that she had perfected long ago – looking like she wasn’t interested in what was going on around her, pretending that she didn’t have a care in the world. To the others, she was so bored, in fact, that the only thing keeping her awake was how imperfect her nail beds were.  

A young Army Specialist was sitting next to his girlfriend that he hadn’t seen in over 6 months.  He had done his basic at Fort Knox and the ticket sticking out of his bag suggested that they were going back to his hometown in Kentucky. His body language said that he believed in love. The way she ate her Subway, rather than look at him, said she was trying to decide if all this was worth it. A Persian aunt and niece were talking loudly, a conversation that would have looked and sounded like an argument to most. She knew that they were only talking about the niece’s father (the aunt’s brother) and the fact that he absolutely hated Philadelphia. It was funny, really. A lady in her 90s, requiring a wheelchair, snapped at the gentleman trying to assist her, then realizing she was being unfair, even for someone her age, quickly recovered with an, “I’m sorry. Thank you so much for your help, dear.” The father and son that were waiting for the Rochester flight at gate 17 had an unfortunate and dysfunctional relationship. “Pick your shit up and move,” is hardly the way to talk to an 11 year old.

She was one of a kind, yet appeared to be just another sheep in the flock. She walked alone, under the guise of a business traveler without a companion.  She would make all the required phone calls while surrounded by those heading for vacation or those returning from their board meetings; calling her mother to catch up on the week’s news, calling her boyfriend to let him know she had landed, emailing her coworkers that their days would have to be delayed because she wasn’t going to be able to review the report until after 11. Sending and receiving texts from a friend with relationship troubles and her sister who was looking to invest in a new start-up. From the periphery and to the average outsider, she was busy, content, maybe even lucky. But these were all covers, too. She didn’t want to look lonely. She didn’t want her neighbor that was sharing an elbow rest to think of her as someone wanting or willing to partake in small talk. She actually didn’t want anyone to think of her, period. She didn’t want them to know anything about her and she didn’t want them to be able to remember a detail after she was gone. She’d turn her phone on when the plane landed, because that’s what is normal. She’d make a groan when her phone chirped upon receiving signal, indicating that she had yet another email. She’d call her hotel, asking if they could allow her an early check-in because she’d arrived ahead of schedule. That would be the first time the gentleman in seat 12C would hear her voice, and then her name as she confirmed her reservation. She was pleasant. She would smile, help the older lady with her bag, maybe even her seatbelt, but she would not engage in small talk. If she did, they would retain some fragmented memory of her and probably pass it on eventually to a friend or another airport stranger. It was her job to never be recognized, never leave a mark.

The world is a pretty small place. She’s seen thousands of repeaters – strangers that she’s seen before – from one place and then another. Had they noticed her, spoken to her, been able to place having sat, drank, or eaten with her, she would have to remember, too.

The conversation with her mother was real. There was no office job, however, nor reports to read. Her boyfriend believed she was an executive with clients all over the world and was forced to travel, often. The text messages were mostly encrypted instructions for where she was to head next.  When she called the hotel, that was her boss. When she gave her name, that was her new alias, which she was only repeating for confirmation. They said she could only make it 5 years at this; that was when everyone maxed out, they insisted. She was well into year 6…

Finland

They say that it is the planning and anticipation of long-awaited travel that really feeds and heals your soul. (One possible reason why last minute vacations just never feel quite as satisfying.) With that in mind, I've started thinking about my upcoming trip to Finland, which I just discovered from looking at a map, will span almost the entire country. We're starting in Helsinki and ending up in the region north of the Arctic Circle known as Lapland, in a small cottage in Luosto.  Along the way we'll stop in Vahakyro, Vaasa, and Ylistaro, where current (3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th?) cousins still live. In fact, Ylistaro is still home to my grandfather's ancestral family farm, and a cousin still owns the property.

Some people travel and love being tourists. I don't mind those people one bit, I'm just not one of them. Show me a place as an insider. Show me the country, show me the culture. I actually don't mind that I never went to Rome while I was in Italy. I much preferred spending a week on the Lignano beaches where we were the only American tourists within miles. I loved having to take pictures of signs on the way to Oido, just so we could compare the Korean characters, in hope of finding our way back, one "breadcrumb" at a time. And drinking beer with Korean students and Korean Americans while eating chicken butthole might have been one of the most ridiculous nights of my life. Don't judge - "when in ...Korea," right? I'd rather do what the locals do and go where the locals go. So this trip to Finland is going to really be tough to beat, I think, on a personal level.  Not that Finland has a large tourist population, but I like that the only place where I'll have a clue what anyone is saying, being that the majority will probably speak fluent English, is in Helsinki, where I'll spend maybe 24 hours, flying into and out of the country. I'm excited to spend time with extended family and learn about their home, in broken Finn-English. And while slightly nerve wracking, even driving through Finland, mostly on our own, stuttering to pronounce the road signs, and hoping the GPS speaks English, will be quite amusing. Oh and though it's probably too much to ask, I'm hoping the cottage in Luosto shows up on the GPS, which is doubtful. Hell, I'm hoping the cottage in Luosto has plumbing, which is, again, doubtful. Finns bathe only once a week and really enjoy the whole sauna/swimming in a lake thing, don't you know?

So... what do I hope to do?

• I've heard the produce in Finland is great in the Summer - strawberries and potatoes, in particular.
• We're going to be there for the Finnish Summer Solstice, which is a big deal. They have a week long celebration that culminates in a 24 hour bonfire/drinking/swimming/eating celebration. This will be how we begin our trip. Only time will tell if the next few days after are labeled as "recovery" in the photo album.
• They're big on reindeer. I'd like to see some. I don't want to eat one, but I might. When in Finland, eh? 
• They're big on blood... blood sausage, blood pancakes. I find it hard to believe that I'll partake here.
• Gonna have to try that sauna / swimming in a lake combo.
• Very excited to see the homes and ancestral farm.
• It will be my 2nd adventure north or the Arctic Circle, and for now, I can only imagine what this trip north has in store.