action
“To action alone hast thou a right and never at all to its fruits; let not the fruits of action be thy motive; neither let there be in thee any attachment to inaction” ~Bhagavad Gita
I heard the above quote incorrectly today ~ I heard “To action alone one is entitled, and never to its root.” Until I spoke with my yoga instructor after class and read the text over her shoulder, I didn’t realize that I’d been contemplating the brilliance of a mis-quoted line.
But as I sit here and meditate on it, I’m glad I mis-heard her.
Recently, I’ve been very angry. I don’t know why. And I’ve always been sensitive. And I’ve over-thought things. Imagine the “ah-hah” moment I had when I thought, ‘Wait a second … the only thing that I am entitled to is the action. The motivation behind it ~ not my concern.” It felt like permission to take things and react to things at face value, instead of agonizing about the meaning behind the action.
I often say – mostly with a laugh and a shrug- that from the age of eighteen until about the age of twenty-eight, I lost my way. I made a lot of bad decisions, and I lost sight of who I was, what I believed in, and how I wanted to live my life. I didn’t have much self-confidence (do many twenty-somethings?) and because of that, I searched for reassurance and acceptance in the wrong places. I knew who I thought I was ~ but I don’t think that’s how I presented myself to the world. I didn’t take pride in myself. I went through a few life-altering experiences in my late twenties. The self-doubts and insecurities -even after finding my footing, acknowledging my incredible support system and finding a partner who is my best friend and who nurtures the best in me- sometimes seep into my daily life.
Pondering the idea that perhaps an action is just an action, and not a subliminal message in pretty packaging, is probably something I should make a daily habit. And even if that subliminal message exists, it might be beneficial (for me, at least) to remind myself that I can either give credence to it, or I can move past it. There is no law requiring intense dissection of underlying meanings.
Actions are powerful things, even without ulterior motives.
Even in the true meaning of the passage, action should be undertaken for the simple act itself, not the fruits of it. To loosely quote what Minda said after class, “I tell my students that it isn’t about the bonus points or the rewards ~ do the work to do the work”. On that subject, the simple act of doing usually results in knowledge or wisdom or epiphanies. If you go through the motions, you learn whether you mean to or not. Action is funny that way, huh? 😉 (I can hear the piano teacher of my youth saying ‘practice, practice, practice!’ right now).
The other aspect that (in my mis-heard version) struck a chord was acknowledging that no action doesn’t necessarily have an ulterior motive, either. Stressing about inaction is just as futile as stressing about action, or more importantly, the implied meaning of either the action or inaction.
Action.
It’s such a huge idea to wrap one’s head around. Not only the ideas proposed during my hot vinyasa class, but as an overriding concept.
Actions speak louder than words. A cliché, but utterly true. Here are a couple more.
Lead by example.
Just do it.
I’m not trying to be hokey, but these are the things I am thinking as I contemplate the power of action. I’m thinking of the people I respect, the things I strive to be.
I was called out once for talking a great game but never following through (see above regarding the ten year period between 18 and 28). I didn’t understand the significance of that until much later, but when I did, and as I sit here now, I realize the power of that (constructive) criticism.
Action is powerful. Right now, the man and I are watching “The 60s” (one of his favs, and really interesting … also pertinent to my current thought process). The marches and protests and riots during the 60’s are a prime example. Not all the results of actions are positive, but actions are powerful.
To close things out, I’m going to fall back on another great cliché.
I would rather regret something I did, rather than something I did not do. What could sum it up better than that? Oh, and don’t forget. It’s just the action. Not the implied, subliminal, possible interpretation. Just the action itself.
april fools
This morning, we woke to Lucy waiting patiently for us to get out of bed, feed her and take her for a walk. She was waiting expectantly, eyes focused on us, cool as a cucumber. It was adorable.
She’s been a good sport the past few weekends when we have spent most of each day re-organizing our entire apartment. We usually like to make changes in the spring, but this year, we have successfully replaced nearly every piece of furniture we own. We went a little nuts.
You can imagine that for Lucy, this has been a lot of upheaval. All she really wants is to run through the woods, curl up in her bed, and have her people close at hand.
Today, after enjoying a Friday night birthday dinner for my dad (lobster, asparagus and baked potatoes prepared expertly by my Mama Bear and Zia), a Saturday filled with Ikea purchases, and furniture rearranging, it was only to be expected that Lucy would anticipate a long walk. Unfortunately, we spent most of the afternoon finishing our massive project, racing to be done and curled up for the premiere of “Game of Thrones.”
Today is also my daddy’s birthday, so I usually forget that April 1st is April Fool’s Day. (For Lucy, it must have felt particularly cruel when we took her to the park and did half the walk). I can’t believe it’s April already ~ time just keeps slipping by. Next weekend is Easter, and the man and I are hosting both sets parents – the first time in the nearly four years we have been together that our parents are spending time together. My fingers are crossed that it all goes smoothly ~ seven people, three dogs, one small kitchen and lots of chefs!
human nature
Sometimes, people surprise you in the best ways. And sometimes, they do not.
Yesterday and today reminded me of both those lessons.
Yesterday …
The man and I have done some minor home improvements over the past few weeks (fueled mostly by our desire to streamline our small apartment and make it seem less like a clutter magnet). Those improvements include a new sofa in our living room (it’s my favorite piece!), a chop block in the kitchen, and several new shelving units throughout the house. Still to come … improvements in our clothing storage. But as the man reminds me, it’s one step at a time. Buuuut … that’s me veering off subject.
Replacing furniture leaves the inevitable “problem” of having too much furniture, so like most people in this modern world, we posted it on craigslist.
It took a little bit to get a response. But we did, and the gentleman in question, named Winston, was interested in quite a few pieces. Last night Winston arrived to inspect and possibly purchase one of our couches, our old desk, books and a filing cabinet. And after the haggling was done, and he’d also agreed to a bookshelf, we made arrangements for the pick up, shook his hand and waved goodbye as he climbed into his truck.
Which didn’t start. For the next three hours. Finally, as twilight faded into evening, AAA showed up to tow his car to a garage. By that time, we’d gotten to know Winston, and found him to be a really super guy. He told his stories in a slow, thoughtful way, and had a deep, genuine laugh. Lucy was completely in love with him and followed him every time he went to his truck, walked down the driveway to make a phone call, or sat at the table with us. She was stuck to him like glue.
As the expenses to fix his truck seemed to compound, the man graciously told Winston that if he no longer wanted to purchase our second hand furniture, we completely understood. Winston laughed and said, “Oh no! I definitely want this stuff! Don’t you worry!” He had such a great sense of humor about the whole situation – when I’m sure on the inside, he was frustrated, fuming at AAA and the tow truck driver’s callous disregard, and probably uncomfortable having to linger at our home for hours.
We talked about “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.” Winston watched all three Swedish films, and saw the more recent American version, and felt the original films had an authenticity and understanding of Swedish culture that didn’t quite translate in the American film.
We talked about “Magnum PI.” Winston owns all nine seasons on DVD, and is going to loan them to me on Saturday. He said that it was going to be a surprise, but he looked at the man and said, “Can I tell her?”
Winston came to our house to get furniture for his son, to help him furnish an apartment. He told us about his ex-wife, and how he lost his two dogs when they split up. He listened to our car horror stories politely, and laughed in all the right places. He was a delight; the epitome of the best of human nature. People like Winston remind us all to have a little faith in our fellow man.
Today …
It was brought to my attention by the GM of the restaurant I oversee, that we’d had a customer complain that not once, but twice we’d made a mistake on her take-out order, and she’d had an allergic reaction.
Let me preface the next few paragraphs by saying that the mistakes were ours, food allergies are not to be trifled with, and it saddened me greatly that we’d so hugely dropped the ball.
I drafted an email to the woman (whose only contact I had was an email address). I outlined how important hospitality and customer service are to us and how much pride we take in making our guests feel comfortable and well taken care of. I let her know that we were all, from my boss (the owner and managing partner) right down through the person who took the order, deeply disappointed and apologetic for the circumstance happening not once, but twice. I asked her how she best felt we could make amends to her regarding these two mistakes.
Aaaaand, for the next few hours she and I exchanged emails in which she attacked all parts of our business, myself included, without at any point attempting to understand the message I was sending to her.
It was incredibly frustrating.
A few emails in, I came to the realization that she really just wanted to be angry about everything, because there seemed to be nothing that either I, the GM or the restaurant could do or say to assuage her. Each communication on my part was an effort in staying positive, apologetic and professional. My company, in general, does an amazing job at being hospitable to our guests. We have loyal regular customers, and overall positive reviews. Our management staff, floor staff and kitchen staff go the extra step to be knowledgeable, friendly and accommodating. Making a mistake twice with a regular customer is -frankly- inexcusable. However, I also feel that apologizing should not be an exercise in complete humility. We should deal with complaints with class and grace, yes, but not by groveling.
This was an instance where a person did not surprise me with humanity. It was very frustrating (as are most angry customer complaints in all industries). It’s a good thing that I could think of Winston and be reminded that people can be good.
against the grain
Today, I managed to get on the yoga mat for the first time in months.
It felt good. For over an hour, it was just me, my thoughts, the movement, and the sweat trickling down my face.
I’d purchased a class package last year that I thought expired in January, but thanks to a reminder email last week, I learned that my classes were still valid. Having my new office about two blocks from the yoga studio only made tonight’s decision to go to class that much easier.
Our instructor was focusing on ‘tapas’ ~ the idea of doing something against the grain, or something outside your daily routine. She asked us to reflect on habits, things we might not even realize we are doing … especially the ones full of negative energy. People whose phone call, or email, make you cringe/roll your eyes/ sigh in exasperation. “Tapas” is the act of changing those habits, moving against the norm.
It was a fitting subject to meditate on as I pushed my body past it’s comfort level. I’ve found myself falling into really bad, negative habits, and once the feelings start, it permeates all aspects of my life.
Example in point: an email in my in-box addresses me in (what I interpret as) a condescending tone. I am personally affronted, and my frustration at being treated without dignity and respect invades my whole being ~ my shoulders tense, my neck cramps, my jaw aches ~ I am exhausted, and frustrated and twisted in knots of anxiety and anger. I want to lash out ~ hurt someone as much as I’ve been hurt. Completely unhealthy in every way.
The thing is, stress happens. It is an inevitable part of life. Learning how to manage and handle it is each of our own personal responsibility. My job is stressful. It’s a lot of balls in the air at the same time, and if any of them drop, bad things happen. It’s fast-paced, and the work load is heavy, and things change every day, and the deadlines are short, and important.
Practicing today allowed my brain to take a break for a moment. And afterwards, as my muscles ached, and my body felt a little wobbly, I felt as though finally, some of the tension was gone. Class reminded me that I should be constantly and vigilantly working to focus on the good, to release the unneeded frustration and anger.
It gave me peace, centered me ~ a little like church feels on Sunday, the silence of the cathedral and the comfort of the ritual allowing my racing mind to be calmed and focused.
Making decisions against the grain included going to class today instead of going home. It means getting up in the morning and taking Lucy for a jog instead of sleeping in. (And those are just the ‘physical activity vs. being sedentary’ examples!) It was the perfect lesson, the perfect meditation for where my life is currently. I love when things work out that way. I love when I feel as though I’m working toward something … making progress toward being a better version of myself.
training
This morning, Lucy and I got back in the saddle, and did a run as part of my training for the Broad Street Race. Last week, because I was feeling mostly like a Mac Truck brutally sidelined me, we didn’t get in much running (I use this term loosely, because when it references what I do, it mostly means shuffling along and trying to remember to lift my knees and use proper form at a speed that slightly outpaces a fast walk).
We had a nice pace going (once Lucy has ceremoniously evacuated her bowels not once, but three times, resulting in equal hand weights for the first mile of lilac-smelling potty bags filled with … potty) and nearly hit four miles in forty minutes (which would have been excellent). When we crossed the 12 mile marker on the Wissahickon Ribbon trail, we slowed to a walk for cool-down purposes, as well as the fact that there was a quite a monstrous dog approaching, and the big guy didn’t look friendly.
And here I make my **Public Service Announcement** to the dog world.
Yes, I understand that you want to take your pup for a nice walk/job/amble through the woods on a beautiful morning such as today.
Yes, all dogs deserve to stretch their legs in the great outdoors.
Yes, I am sure that deep down, your growling, hair-raised, poised-for-attack dog is really a softy.
But when my over-eager puppy of nearly nine months begins to cower and her back-end starts to uncontrollably shake, it means she’s scared, and your brute of a dog is probably a little overwhelming.
Therefore, dog-owners. Rather than move to the side of the path and allow your dog to jump viciously toward mine with the mere restriction of what I can only imagine MUST be a leash with superpower (otherwise why would you have your attack dog on a public path with no other method of restraint?), perhaps you should err on the side of caution.
Either don’t bring your dog to a public path where he is bound to encounter other dogs, OR take precautionary measures to train, restrain and socialize your pup.
I know you love him. I love my baby girl, too. But you didn’t reprimand or attempt to control your dog as mine walked meekly by, ears flat and body quivering. Considering she’s full of kisses, love and excited wiggles, and despite my extreme bias, I have a hard time believing that her reaction wasn’t at least partially due to your dog’s … erm, enthusiastic? … greeting?
We’re safely home, and the Luce is curled up next her dad and I on the couch. She’s clearly not forever damaged. But I haven’t forgotten our encounter, and I will be on guard the next time we approach the snarling dog of this morning’s walk.
Until then, I’ll focus on my #broadstreet training. #runrunrun!
Valley Green
Philadelphia has one of the largest urban park systems in the country -collectively referred to as Fairmount Park- and the man and I are lucky enough to live very close to one of my favorite parks in the system, Wissahickon Valley Park.
Wissahickon Valley Park includes Forbidden Drive, Devil’s Pool, The Indian (a mysterious statue that I heard about for eight years before finally finding him today on our long Sunday hike) and a multitude of other great places, including the Valley Green Inn (which features Yappy Hour every Tuesday from 5-7pm … bring your pup and enjoy cocktails and snacks, for man and beast alike, on their heated outdoor deck ~ absolutely genius for people like the man and myself who have recently become three). There is even a section of park where Lucy can run free of her leash and meet up with doggie friends also enjoying their dog park-esque freedom in the woods.
Forbidden Drive is 5.42 miles long and features the only red covered bridge in any major city.
Spring is coming …
The Fingerspan bridge … 
modern weathering steel bridge (this girl crossed it quickly … I’m not the biggest fan of heights!) Lucy also needed a little persuading. It was cool walking over the bridge, though, because even though you are totally enclosed, you can see through the walls and the floor and you’re fairly high up, so the view down the stream is pretty gorgeous.
We hiked for about two and a half hours, finding The Indian with some help from fellow hikers. It was not what I expected, and it’s a steep switch back path from one side to reach him, but well worth it.
The legend of the statue of The Indian has many variations. I liked the idea that it was an anonymous Lenape Indian Chief watching his people move West as the Eastern lands became over-populated.
This is the view of the river from the foundation of the old Mill (in fact, the last working mill in Pennsylvania!).
As I type, the man and Lucy are working on getting the fire pit roaring outside. We are going to enjoy a relaxing Sunday evening. I hope you’re enjoying yours, too!
ashes
This morning, I shook up Lucy and my routine by bolting out of the house at 8am, panicking about being late to church.
I have realized over the past few years that the man and my year is split into halves. The half of the year when we go to church almost every Sunday, and the half when we don’t (otherwise known as football season).
We always start off really motivated on Ash Wednesday, and try to make it to church for all the Sundays of Lent. (In the general scheme of things, I think this is a good effort, mostly because Lent is arguably the most important time in the Catholic calendar).
As spring turns into summer we enjoy church, and brunch with J&J on Sundays. Then 11.30a mass stops (during the height of heat and summer) and we start to miss occasionally. When September rolls around, we try to make the effort to go to mass, but end up spending Sundays watching football instead. I cannot say that I’m particularly proud of this trend, but in the spirit of honesty, it’s the truth.
The man and I debated for awhile what we would abstain from through Lent, and came up with a few things. First, we gave up Facebook. Having done it before, it won’t be terrible, but just to be safe, I let Facebook know last night. Next, we’re going to restrict drinking to the weekends (which isn’t exactly Lenten, but it’s close). AND, we’re giving up Fast Food. To some, this might not sound difficult, but I have a love for McDonalds and Munchkins from Dunkin Donuts that only gets stronger when I’m not allowed to them.
Speaking of the man, he is safely home from all foreign parts, and Lucy and I are very happy. We are a whole family again (and I don’t have to always get up to take Lucy out at night, which rocks!).
Now, I’ve got to order sushi, because someone (oops!) forgot that you can’t eat meat on Ash Wednesday, and had planned to make Italian sausage for dinner. Guess we’ll have that tomorrow. 🙂
a day late, $40 short
On Sunday, as I sunk into my sofa to enjoy two hours of Downton Abbey, I was feeling quite pleased with myself. I’d blogged twice, I’d made dinner and cookies, Lucy was fed, bags were packed and ready for work, laundry was done … you get the jist.
Then Monday came.
And it was not what I expected. Roofers arrived bright and early with a dumpster the size of China, which they thoughtfully placed across my garage and right next to my front door, in front of which they positioned their ladder, and power cords running to the roof.
The man’s truck, which has been inoperable for a few weeks (I was waiting for the man to come home, because who could have anticipated telepathically that my whole world and apartment would be turned upside down?) had to be moved, as did the Mini. Lucy and I, after realizing what a huge inconvenience it all was, packed our bags and headed south to stay with my parents.
My anger has not get dissipated at what I consider to be a highly inconsiderate occurence.
Yesterday, after getting Lucy settled with my dad (it took all of zero seconds, because Dad loves Lucy and Lucy loves my Dad), I headed downtown. I thought it odd that there was a line out the door of the tiny cupcake bakery I walk past every day on my way to work. Normally, it looks empty, and the counter worker slightly forlorn and deflated.
What was causing this mad rush for cupcakes, I wondered? Was someone trying to boost her spirits?
Upon arriving at work, I noticed that the office manager had flowers on her desk. Was it her birthday? I knew she had recently lost a family member. But pink roses? Odd.
Since I was running really behind, I threw my bag down, and started doing about nine things at once. I felt a little flustered and just wanted to get things in order.
My office mate (he of the cookie requests) poked his head in the door and smiled a big smile.
“Happy Valentine’s Day!”
Ah! It all came together … cupcakes, pink roses … a lot of people wearing red and pink.
So I’m a day late today, but to those who celebrate, Happy Valentine’s Day!
This morning, I arrived at work much less flustered (no line at the cupcake shop ~ all felt much more normal!) but anxious to register for my first ever race. And after two hours and 45 minutes, multiple windows, several failed attempts, and one successful one (by Minda’s hubby, not by me), I am officially registered to run Broad Street 2012. I’m excited and terrified. And as Josh pointed out, it took longer to register than they allow you to finish the 10 miler (you’re capped at 2 hours and 30 minutes by the police, emergency services, etc etc, so that roads can be re-opened in a timely fashion). The pressure is on.
Wish me luck!
flash blizzard & strong drink
Yesterday afternoon, after spending the morning at Jefferson Hospital’s Heart Health Day, I packed a bag for Lucy, and the two of us headed south to my parents for a dinner of Haggis and Mashed Neeps.
The haggis had originally been purchased for Rabbie Burns Day a few weeks ago, but I’d finagled my darling parents into coming to my house to visit with my brother and his lady, so the haggis had gone uneaten. (Instead, we’d enjoyed Crab Stuffed Tilapia, boiled baby potatoes and green beans … yummers).
It sounded like a relaxing Saturday night, and as Lucy had never visited her Grandparents before, it was also an excellent socializing opportunity. And if I timed it properly, we’d be home in time for a blog post and a snuggle on the couch before heading to bed.
Into Lucy’s bag went dinner, her Dragon, her antler chew toy, a blanket, her kitchen bed (not to be confused with her bedroom bed), and some water from home. For safe measure, I also brought her big, blue collar (which she should have been wearing to prevent her from licking or scratching her incision, but she hated it so much I took it off). Better safe than sorry.
We hooked up “A Clash of Kings” and settled in for the drive. There were a few flurries in the sky, but all seemed okay. After we turned off the highway, I pulled over to fill up my gas tank (it’s SO much cheaper near my parents house).
And then the weather just … well … completely changed. The wind picked up, and Rooney Cooper was pushed around the road. The big, wet flakes that had earlier been dancing to the ground became an angry squall of blinding white. The temperature dropped nearly eight degrees in less than ten minutes, and we slowed to a crawl as we slid on the curving country roads.
It was a long twenty minutes to finish the drive. My mother called as we pulled into the driveway. My father had arrived home just a little bit before me (he’d been Lucy-sitting while I worked), and the driveway hadn’t had any snow on it. As I pulled in, and slid sideways a little, it was a slick sheet of ice and snow. As we tumbled inside the house and stamped snow from our feet (well, Lucy was ‘detained’ and politely allowed her Nonna to wipe off her paws), my mother said matter-of-factly, “Well, you’re not driving home tonight!”
We did have a great night. Lucy was very well behaved (despite not sleeping through the night), the Haggis and Mashed Neeps were delicious, and breakfast of fried eggs, sausage and English muffins with Marmalade was scrumptious. It’s always nice to go home and be spoiled a little bit.
The pup and I hit the road shortly after breakfast and were home before 1p, at which point I collapsed on the sofa and we had a nice little afternoon nap. I awoke with a deep craving for Bourbon Balls (a decadent dessert introduced to me by Minda). So I made some. It’s really the only logical thing to do when all the ingredients are in the cupboard. Now it’s time for the penultimate installment Downton Abbey (it’s extended!), some Bourbon Balls, and some cuddling with the pupster.
In case you’d like some Bourbon Balls, too ~ here’s how!
What you Need:
1 box Nilla Wafers (10.75oz)
1 lb shelled Walnuts or Pecans (Minda does half and half and it’s sublime)
1/2 c. Honey
1/2 c. Bourbon
1/4 c. White Rum
1/4 c. Brandy
Powdered Sugar
What to Do:
1. Combine Nilla Wafers and nuts in a food processor.
2. When fully chopped, add honey and alcohol. Mix together.
3. Roll into balls and sprinkle with powdered sugar.
4. Refrigerate. Enjoy at your leisure.
**If you have time, refrigerate the batter after mixing, and about an hour later, roll into balls. It will make the process much easier, and less messy.
healthy hearts
Yesterday, Zavino participated in Jefferson Hospital’s Fourth Annual Heart Health Day. It was our first time as a featured restaurant, and I went with our Executive Chef to help distribute samples of our heart healthy pasta salad (created specifically for the event). The event was held at King of Prussia mall, and Tim Spinner of Cantina Feliz and La Calaca Feliz (translated, it means the Happy Skeleton ~ the skeleton, I learned, is one of several characters in a very popular Mexican card game) did a cooking demonstration with former Eagle linebacker Jeremiah Trotter. (Despite not being an Eagles fan, I am a huge football fan, and Mr. Trotter was really funny, good -natured and generous in his attitude and demeanor thoughout the event). Watching the crowd’s faces as Chef Spinner pulled a huge octopus out of cambro and dropped him into a pot of hot water was priceless, as was watching Jeremiah Trotter’s face as he assisted in making and then tasting each dish.
The entire event reminded me that the food business can be pretty cool.
Since we handed out hundreds of menu cards generously printed by Jefferson Hospital, I thought it would only be fair to share Chef Carlos Aparicio’s Heart Healthy Whole Wheat Pasta with Grilled Veggies on my blog. So, here goes!
For the Pesto:
2 c. fresh basil (picked leaves)
1 c. baby arugula
1/2 c. grated Parmesan-Reggiano
1/2 c. EVOO
1/3 c. Toasted Pine Nuts
3 medium sized Garlic cloves
1/4 tsp fresh black pepper
1. Place all ingredients in blender or food processor.
2. Blend for 2-3 minutes, adding a little extra olive oil if it’s too thick.
For the Pasta:
1 lb dry whole-wheat penne (or other pasta)
1 c. small chunks of sundried tomatoes (keep separate from all othere veggies to incorporate at the end for garnish)
1/2 c. small diced Asparagus
1/2 c. small diced Zucchini
1/2 c. small diced Yellow Squash
1/2 c. small diced Cauliflower
1 bunch Swiss Chard (washed and cut in small pieces)
10 leaves Basil Chiffonade (for garnish)
What to Do:
1. Cook pasta for about 10 minutes in boiling water. Drain & reserve.
2. In a big pot of boiling water, blanch all veggies except Swiss Chard. (Blanching = leaving veggies in water no more than 45 seconds). Remove from water.
3. In a stir fry pan, add EVOO and garlic (diced) over medium heat.
4. Saute all veggies (after being blanched) for about 2-3 minutes.
5. Add salt & black pepper to taste.
6. In a large bowl, combine pasta and veggies, adding pesto and basil chiffonade.
7. Garnish with small-diced sun-dried tomatoes (add extra pesto and pine nuts for extra creaminess & flavor).
D5 Creation