Sunday supper

A week ago this Sunday night, Jack and I were touching down in Chicago after a family visit to Cleveland. Already travel-weary, we arrived home to what Jeremy and Jossie had been dealing with for 24 hours - a gas leak in our yard. The heat was off in our house and there were gas levels registering in our basement. I ran through our cold house (42 degrees) to grab a few things for all of us for the next morning, and then we retreated to a kind friend's house. The local gas company's trucks were idling outside, their orange lights constantly flashing in the icy-cold winter's night.

Everything is fine now, but we had a brief vision of what it's like to feel unsafe in your home. Not awesome. Three-year-old Jossie keeps telling us she's so glad we're all home and I agree.

I've spent this weekend pulling the house back together and found a home-hearty meal for Sunday night that is not time-intensive but provides some great aromas from the kitchen. And you roast the chicken atop the vegetables, which makes the vegetables so tender and delicious. It also calls for only 1/3 cup of dry white wine, so there's plenty left over for dinner (a big plus in my kitchen). Serve with a nice green salad and some hearty bread:

Roasted chicken breasts with sweet potatoes
From the super-awesome cookbook: Keepers: Two Home Cooks Share Their Tried-and-True Weeknight Recipes and the Secrets to Happiness in the Kitchen

4 sweet potatoes (about 2 1/2 pounds total), peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
2 tablespoons olive oil, plus 1 tablespoon
salt and pepper
1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh rosemary
grated zest and juice of 1 large lemon
4 chicken breast halves (about 3 pounds total), patted dry
1/4 cup dry white wine

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees, with a rack in the middle position. Put sweet potatoes in a large roasting pan, sprinkle on the the 2 tablespoons of olive oil, season with salt and pepper, and toss until well combined. Spread the potatoes out in a single layer and set aside. (Note: Instead of 4 sweet potatoes, I used an assortment of 1 garnet yam, 2 russet potatoes and 3 carrots - the yummiest parts were the yam and carrots.)

In a small bowl, stir together the remaining 1 tablespoon of olive oil, rosemary, lemon zest and juice, and season with salt. Gently loosen the skin from the chicken breasts and rub the mixture between the skin and meat. Season the chicken with a little more salt and pepper, then put skin-side up in the pan on top of potatoes and roast for 20 minutes.

Gently toss the potatoes, sliding the ones under the chicken out and vice versa. Pour the wine over the chicken and continue to roast until the chicken is cooked through, about 15 minutes more.

Transfer the chicken to a plate, tent with foil to keep warm, and let rest for 5 to 10 more minutes. If the potatoes aren't tender yet, return to the oven. When they are soft, toss them again, scraping up caramelized bits o nthe bottom of the pan. Serve the chicken with the potatoes.

In-between

We have a lot of catching up to do, don't we?

Right now, I'm living in-between. I'm still a city dweller with a husband, two kids, and my non-profit job. But a month from tomorrow, I will be a suburban mom with a husband, two kids, and my non-profit job.

I grew up in the suburbs. This should not be new to me. But I've spent my adult life as a city dweller. Though I never think of myself as a city person.

I am rambling.

We are moving. To a 1908 house with a white picket fence in a lakeside community. It is a foursquare house with a smooth stucco finish. Frank Lloyd Wright fancied stucco finishes.  It it not big but it is perfect and charming. Perfectly charming. That's why Jeremy and I wrote an offer for it in the back of our broker's car the first time we saw it.
This house feels right to us. Since the offer was accepted, we've had a chance to meet the mom of the house. She clasped my hands and told me we were just the family she wanted for this house, and I told her we would take good care of it.

Our new neighborhood is full of children, and there is a park that serves as a community gathering place down the block. We can walk to Jack's school, two different business districts, the library, the grocery store, the commuter train and Northwestern football games on autumn Saturdays. Every time we visit, the realization that this is a very good idea for our family sinks in deeper and deeper.

And back in the city, I think about what we've had here. I think about it a lot and how things will change. Jack at five years old can hail a cab. Our favorite lunchtime spot after Jack's school day is in the seventh tallest building in the U.S. Jeremy and I can be home from work within an $8-cab ride. We can sit on a 4th-floor porch and take in the Chicago skyline. I know to do my errands either on a weeknight after 8 p.m. or on a weekend before 8 a.m. to avoid traffic.

In the city, we can be part of communities - work, school, church - but we can also walk down the sidewalk in the anonymity of the city. Already in our new town, I visited a preschool where the director not only knew the family we were buying from but also knew the family of the house our sellers were buying, if that makes sense.

So this is my toe-touch in May to this beloved blog of mine. More to come; I promise. Happy weekend, friends.

Space

This morning I woke up in the middle of my bed, surrounded by my boys. Jeremy was to my right; my 4-year-old Jack was to my left; and Roscoe the cat was sleeping across my legs.

I need some space, I thought as I climbed over Jack to go take a shower.

I've been thinking about that a lot lately. Jeremy and I are living in the same 2-bed, 2-bath condo we bought as newlyweds. Seven and a half years later, we've had countless dinner parties, a few good holiday parties, two babies born, accompanied by a mountain of baby and kid clothes, toys and gear, and one renovation project in this place. We listed once but did not sell. So here we are.

We love our condo for many reasons - it's good to be on one level with little ones; the laundry is right across from the kids' room; we have an amazing view of the skyline; my kitchen is big enough for me to do some damage; and our place is ridiculously close to our work (seriously, door-to-door for me can be as little as 20 minutes). And we have a brand-new park that is within a 10-minute walk.

Jeremy and I are thinking about the when, where and how of our next steps, and it's nice to have the beginnings of a plan, even if it's not imminent. A yard, a neighborhood that is kid-friendly, a room of his own for Jack are my dreams.

In the meantime, I continue to work with the space we've got. My parents and best friends store some of our things. This weekend, I donated five bags of clothes and housewares to the Salvation Army, and I have eight plastic bins of neatly folded kids' clothes stacked in our room, in hopes my parents will be willing to take them home when they visit in a few weeks. Living in a city has helped me to be creative with space.

I think about my space outside of the home. You get a front-row seat to all of humanity, living in Chicago - especially if you ride public transportation. Sometimes the train is so packed, I feel like I should buy the person next to me dinner.

And I went to church for the first time in awhile yesterday. My church is a beautiful old church with a breath-taking chapel. The hallways around the chapel, however, are small and dark. As I was leaving church, I got stuck right behind a homeless man. Faith is put to the test - it's hard to love thy neighbor when the body odor is overpowering.

My work deals with protecting natural open spaces. These spaces range from a city neighborhood lot to  19,000 acres of prairie in the Chicago region. Work has taught me that space for nature is important, but lots of space is not required. It can be a vegetable garden at a school or a tree-lined boulevard, and it can still be important.

Wait a second.

Space is good. Quality space is even better.

Okay, so maybe I didn't want to reach out and give the homeless man a hug yesterday morning, but I do see the problems of real-life right in front of me. And I'm offered solutions. I can look at the church bulletin in my hand, where at least three different opportunities are given to me to volunteer to help right here in these dark halls.

And the train? Well, it's hard to get poetic about a jammed rush-hour train. But people are headed to jobs and they are using public transit, and that's all good in my book.

The family bed? I've made that bed, so I might as well sleep in it. Jeremy, our kids and I don't even know better at this point. And I'll enjoy those cuddles while my babies are small.

One of my friends told me once, it doesn't matter the size of the house, it matters what happens inside the house. Quality space - to share, to love, to dream. I'm glad I have mine, and I wish the same to you.