One Sweet Street

Twas the night before Valentine's Day and all through the 'burgh a trip to the new Oakmont Bakery did not sound absurd.

You undoubtedly have heard about the beloved Oakmont Bakery moving to a new location. The move has been in the works for about four years, but as of February 6, the new location at the corner of Hulton Road and Third Street, just a few blocks from their previous location, is now open for business.

My relationship with Oakmont Bakery began 8 years ago. I kept hearing commercials on the radio about these paczkis, (pronounced pownch-kee) Polish donuts and I needed to get to the bottom of this tasty delight. (Since I am Slovak/Hungarian I grew up on ceregi not paczkis!) Because of the timing of learning about pownch-kee and having my third child, his nickname Pootchie was inspired by this Polish specialty.

The first trip to Oakmont Bakery turned into a tradition that now spans nearly a decade. We make the yearly trip, just before Lent begins, to get our last taste of sugar before the fasting season begins. There are at least 15 flavors. I have never strayed from the Oakmont Creme which has a chocolate buttercreme filling, but most of my family ops for the fruity flavored filling.

But I digress, we are talking about Valentine's Day not Lent.

The weeks prior to the bakery's move, news programs were filled with stories about the new luxurious location. It was during that time my mom saw a photo of one of their specialty cakes called the Sweetheart Torte, a chocolate and yellow cake topped with strawberries and chocolate ganache, and mentioned she would like to try it. She even saved the newspaper which featured the photo and article about the new store for me to read. This cake had made quite an impression on her.

The new bakery is 6 times the size of their previous location down the street and boasts more indoor and outdoor seating with lots more parking. But that parking was simply not enough on the night before Valentine's Day. Cars were lined up down the street as people were trying to get that special treat for their loved ones.

I had meant to get to Oakmont Bakery earlier that Wednesday, but the snow and cold didn't  make for an inviting afternoon errand. I thought about going to the bakery early Valentine's Day morning, they open at 6 a.m., but after seeing the stories about traffic being a bit snarly at the new location, I didn't want to risk being late for the school drop off.

I was in a bind. Either l would let it go and not get the cake at all or I would make a mad dash at 6 p.m. Mind you, they close at 7 p.m. Since I am a bit obsessive- compulsive, letting it go is not in my DNA.

My daughter accompanied me on the dash. She was having a bad day and I thought nothing boosts your mood like the prospect of getting tasty treats. I had full intention of getting us pre-annual paczkis, since I was making the 35 minute drive and thought I also deserved an extra treat this year.

When we turned onto Third Street the traffic was backed up and it was already 6:45 p.m. I told my daughter to run in and at least get a number and I would park. I was able to find a space down the street, not far, and I ran to the bakery.

When I looked at our number we were 160. The number they were serving at the time was 100. I wasn't sure how this would play out, but I figured since we were inside, there was a good chance of getting something.

Once I caught my breath, I looked for the cake. There were a few in the glass case. Yes! Then I looked at the paczkis. There were plenty of those too. But because we had so long to wait, and there was so much to see, cookies, cupcakes, cakes, my order changed a few times. I talked myself out of the paczkis, because the rest of the family wasn't with us and it just wouldn't be right. I talked myself into gingerbread men, for my sons, eclair, for my husband, and cannoli, for my daughter and I. Oh, and yes, the cake for my mom.

 Eventually, they locked the doors, as people were still trying to get in at 7:10 p.m., but shortly after that our number was called. I was pleased with how smoothly the transaction went and how I used self restraint in leaving with not much more than what I intended. Once in the car, my daughter and I enjoyed each bite of the mini cannoli and started the journey home.

The cake was really important to me because of what transpired one year ago to the day. My mom, siblings and I spent Valentine's Day 2018 in the hospital as my dad underwent major surgery. It was not a great way to spend the holiday, but it did provide us the amazing gift of my dad currently being cancer free.

I thought enjoying the Sweetheart Torte was appropriate this year to symbolize the sweetness of life.  So I left the cake on my parents' side porch with a small Valentine card. I sent a text to alert them of the special delivery. My mom was very surprised and said she would have a tough time waiting until after dinner to cut it.

Later in the evening, I even got to try a piece. Each moist bite made me happy there is an Oakmont Bakery for those times you just need something a little out of the ordinary to make the day mouthwateringly delicious.

I Luuurve You...

(Did you catch the Annie Hall reference?)

Love is in the air as winter makes a startling return this week. (Maybe we should refer to the recent frozen precipitation as Cupid's Mist?) Regardless of the weather, today is the day for that fuzzy emotion to reign supreme.

Some people have mixed emotions about the "love" day. There are people who don't want to buy into the "greeting card" holiday and feel they can express their love any day of the week. That is great for them but I wonder how many of these people actually follow through with that? Without the help of Mr. Hallmark, you pretty much would have to make a card yourself and if you don't have little ones in and out of your home you may not have the red construction paper or glue sticks needed to assemble your valentine.

Plus, without a designated day on the calendar, you would be left to pick a day yourself, and with as busy as life gets you may forget altogether to drop your special one a love note.

I used to get caught up in the romance of Valentine's Day. We are bombarded with commercials each year showing jewelry, cars, chocolate and bedroom aids. After 20 years of marriage, if the Ferrari/diamond ring combo hasn't showed up by now, I know it is not coming. And besides who buys their special one a car for love day? Where did I go wrong? Does my husband not watch tv?

Nowadays the fun part of Valentine's Day for me is helping my second grader make his heart mailbox to display on his desk to hold his special cards. This year there is a contest in his classroom for the most creative box and he is hoping to win. I really don't have any creative ideas, but as long as I have aluminum foil and a glue gun, we are all good.

It means a lot to me to watch the care he puts into writing out each valentine by hand. His teacher prepares a list of the students' names and he makes sure he writes everyone's name on their card. (It would be much easier to leave the 'to' part blank and just sign the 'from' part.) The spaces are so small that many times the names spill over the side with his big chunky letters, but it is the thought that counts.

There is a little girl in his class who has a crush on him. (Which makes him a little nervous for today.) She told him when he takes his glasses off she has trouble speaking and she cannot concentrate. Wow! These are pretty big emotions for a second grader.

I cannot remember the last time I felt like that. Oh wait, it was last week during the Super Bowl when Adam Levine decided to lose his shirt during his band Maroon 5's performance during the halftime show. To be honest, I was kind of caught off guard sitting there with my family when the show went the Magic Mike direction, but you gotta give the guy credit, he is in good shape and must work out a lot.

I was in second grade when I received my first marriage proposal. A classmate wrote me a note and had our whole future planned out. He just wanted me to write back to let him know my answer. My mom thought it was cute and benign, my dad on the other hand was ready to tar and feather the boy. I never would have expected this same boy, years later in high school, would make my speech impediment part of his daily comedy routine. Good times for sure. But as Spike Jones once sang, "You always hurt the ones you love." Cue the penny whistle.

I guess the message for Valentine's Day should be love is all around. Sorry for the Love Actually reference but, it is - whether it is romantic love, friend love, family love or self love. We can all do something in honor of this special day to share the love. It can be as simple as wearing red, smiling at a stranger, holding the door open for someone or letting the people in your life know they are appreciated and are not taken for granted.

Yes, there are those who will enjoy the grand gesture and get the Ferrari and diamond ring, but for those of us riding in the broken down van with the school holiday shop jewelry turning our fingers green, take a moment to soak in the love. It may not all look the same but the sentiment is...

For those of you who read these blogs each week - I luuurve you too! Happy Valentine's Day!

Put the Pedal to the Metal

Do you remember that feeling you used to get, or still get, while waiting in line to ride a roller coaster? That scared, butterflies in your stomach kind of feeling that makes you want to run as fast as you can far far away from the line and the crowds?

Well, I've been experiencing that feeling every day for the past week. I have started letting my 16-year-old drive to his younger brother's elementary school each day for the afternoon pick up. Prior to last week, the driving lessons have been done exclusively by my husband. He is a patient, very Zen person who is an excellent teacher. I have been on the side lines, for good reason, keeping my emotional, impatient self in the back seat. 

My son got his permit in November and due to the shorter daylight time, lessons have been primarily on the weekends. But I wanted to give him more consecutive driving time so the afternoon pick up seemed logical.

I am not a good teacher, but I try to emulate my husband's calm example, which results in me sounding like an episode of The Joy of Painting with Bob Ross. "Get ready to make a happy little turn." "Make the gas pedal your friend."

I really surprise myself with my calm delivery while uttering phrases like "stop sign" or "slow down". In my head I'm repeating my mantra "How Would Bob Say It?" or "Be like Bob." (I could be referring to the painter or my husband.) The latter helps me because I turn it into a parent competition and I want to be just as good if not better.

For the most part, my son is doing really well. His trouble areas right now seem to be actually starting the car and knowing which direction to cut the wheel when pulling out of the driveway. Both trouble areas manifested themselves on the very first school run. I wanted to order him out of the car right then and there but my mantra "What Would Bob Do?" came into play and with a deep breath I encouraged him to turn the key all the way, cut the wheel to the right and pull out of the driveway. From there his performance was nearly flawless. 

I know that my demeanor has a huge impact on my son's performance. Having kids puts things in perspective for me in terms of analyzing my behavior and how it can affect my kiddos. My little guy has had anxiety each day before going to school this year. Am I sick of dealing with the broken record of "I hate school," "I don't want to go," "My tummy hurts?" Yes, I am. So I have my little freak out in my bedroom before I emerge like Mary Poppins singing songs and using my best distraction tactics to get him out the door.

For my oldest, I know the stakes are a little higher. I know if he senses my stress or trepidation, it could affect his performance on the road, which could result in an accident. Yes, I'll try to keep it in check.

These daily trips have been good therapy for me actually, in being my best most patient self on the outside even though I am going a little crazy on the inside. The other day, I did something my son did not like. I decided to say a prayer before we departed. I meant to start this tradition on the first day of afternoon pick ups but I forgot. So when I told him to bless himself, so I could ask for divine guidance, he said in typical teen fashion, "Wow! Just wow. I must be really bad if we need to start praying before I drive." Obviously this was not my motivation, but I had to smooth things over fast."I'm not so much praying for you as I am praying for the rest of the drivers out there. You know there are quite a few nuts on the road." (Me included.)

He didn't let my spontaneous prayer affect his confidence and once again he did a great job. I try not to really think about the stone cold fact that I am a passenger in a car that my first born is driving - the fact I am old enough to have a teen in a car driving - that one day he will ask to use our car....

I have heard from others that this process does get easier. (By the time my youngest is learning to drive, I'll have been through the teen driving experience twice, so I'm sure I'll be cool as a cucumber.) But as of now, we have 50+hours to clock before getting a driver's license can even be discussed. We have parallel parking to conquer, night driving and the three point turn. 

As Bob Ross once said, "Talent is a pursued interest. Anything you’re willing to practice, you can do.” My son will keep practicing driving and I will keep practicing patience. Yes, there will be bumps along the road but I hope when he looks back on this time he will someday realize the conscious effort I made to be the best imitation of myself - not the me I am, but the me he needed.   

Grampy giving one-year-old Nick his first driving lesson.