Even as a little kid I found two scoops of something to be very self-indulgent:  two scoops of ice cream, two scoops of mashed potatoes from the cafeteria, or even two scoops of molded butter at a fancy restaurant.  I seem to remember a cereal which boasted “two scoops” of raisins in every box.  (I do not care for raisins so honestly I never ate it.)  One can scoop up newly fallen snow, clear water from a spring, or freshly plowed dirt.  I think of candy scoops, scooping up ingredients from a salad bar, and scoops of “gravy.”  I have delighted in scooping up newly mown grass and hay to inhale their fresh scent, autumn leaves, and seashells.  So my little one and I were recently celebrating and found ourselves in the coffee shop we love.  They have new drinks out for summer, and one of them is called the “Dragon Drink.”  The name alone made it cool but with the dragonfruit turning it electric pink?!  My unleaded (decaffeinated) child was SOLD!  The barista very solemnly looked down at her over the counter and asked if she was aware of what she was undertaking by ordering such a drink.  Wide eyed, my nine-year-old stood transfixed as he told her “it had been known to cause scaly skin and possibly fire-breathing.”  She giggled.  It is people like that man who make the world great.  Assuming they were from China, I was surprised to learn when I searched it up that they are the fruit of several cactus species indigenous to the Americas!  I believe I can recall having Prickly Pear margaritas in both San Antonio and Santa Fe and marveling at their startling hot pink color.  Recently I was at a birthday party for one of my little girl’s friends.  They did not know she was gluten intolerant and both parents were genuinely concerned seeing all the pizza they’d ordered, the big beautiful unicorn cake, and then realizing my little girl could not have any of it.  I told them not to worry; I should have thought to bring snacks which I almost always do.  Such caring parents, they began scanning their kitchen with renewed eyes.  “Well, I have an avocado.  Do you like those?”  Asking a Texan if they like avocados is akin to asking if a wolf likes meat.  I could tell my girl was trying to be polite while trying not to attack this mom.  As she was slicing it open she said what she liked to do was to add hot sauce in the middle of each scoop (made by the indentation from the seed) and even I felt my eyes widen.  “CHOLULA?!” we exclaimed in unison.  Opening up her fridge, she produced a bottle.  All that was needed now was a spoon to scoop it all up.  I thought it was the coolest idea ever and my little one kept thanking her in between shakes of the bottle.  That was only about a month ago and it has already become a staple for my daughter and me.  We have a faux set of tree trunk table and chairs by our koi pond.  My little one and I like to snack out there after the sun has gone down, and we also feed the fish.  We named it The Koi Pond Cafe.  The Indian composer of music and film known as Ilaiyaraaja said, “Life is not what you expect:  it is made up of the most unexpected twists and turns.”  So that is the story of how The Koi Pond Cafe pictured above developed its signature drink and appetizer … and for once it’s not a bad thing to enjoy two scoops.

Maybe it’s just a southern thing in the United States, but family china, crystal, and silver are still cherished.  I have had my grandmother”s and my mother’s wedding registry since they have passed away.  We fell on hard times and had to sell our family silver when I was little.  Some of my maternal mother’s thick, heavy, exquisitely hand-cut rose bowls and vases one could not purchase now if they wanted.  Contrary to popular belief, it is not EVERY woman’s ultimate “dream” to marry.  My father impressed upon me from the time I was in the fourth grade that when I got to college it was to get an education — first and foremost — and so I did.  When I was at SMU I really enjoyed my sorority and going out with fraternity boys to all sorts of fun parties.  Yes, the guy that drove a Porsche may have used it to his advantage … but guess what?  He was cute and I have always loved nice cars.  I was stunned to discover there were just as many “gold-diggers” with the boys, and yet that is a term that is most ALWAYS associated with girls.  There were some guys in college who dropped me like a hot potato once they realized I had no money.  Then there were the wonderful exceptions, like Anders from Germany who proudly picked me up for a dance at my parents’ apartment and never treated me as anything less than a lady.  He was so kind I wish I could have loved him.  He played rugby and did not seem to give a hoot for American financial dynamics.  Although I always wanted to be married with a family of my own, as I grew older it just seemed my chances for what I really wanted became slim to near impossible.  And then I met the most wonderful guy.  I can still vividly recall the first instant I saw him.  I wound up changing his flat tire and he wound up buying me ice cream.  We started dating exclusively three months later, just after I’d turned 35 and, after a year of dating, we wed eight months later.  Suddenly I found myself a fiancée having a big church wedding with between 300 and 500 people, and almost all of my own family had passed.  Getting to “register” as a bride was so exciting:  we got to choose our own china pattern, crystal glassware, and silverware design.  I kept envisioning all the holidays and parties I would host with both sides of my future husband’s family.  While I am very proud of our our registry, it remains mostly on display behind the wood and glass of a very old china cabinet that came from my husband’s maternal side of the family.  There is not a day that goes by that I do not admire it, as it lives in front of our little family dinner table.  What I had failed to see though, as a future wife and (by the grace of God) a future mother, was the everyday.  The normalcy of marriage … when you’re both tired from getting off work; when you don’t feel like cooking something new; when you make sure there are leftovers you know your partner is looking forward to because they’re having to stay late.  It’s the times they request your “comforting” casserole when they’re sick.  You develop favorite recipes and things you just make up along the way your family winds up loving.  I never thought to register for bakeware, I guess because I had my mother’s beloved brownie pan, the one she used for meatloaf, and her covered casserole dish I regularly use and bring to church gatherings and parties.  As much as I treasure my registry, after almost fourteen years of marriage, I feel it is our cookware which seems to hold the most family memories.  It’s the gleam in their eyes when you set that dish on the table.  It’s the weird little marks after years of use that won’t come off no matter how hard you scrub.  It’s both the routine and the specialness when you look back and realize all the things you have shared over that bakeware.  The American restaurateur Guy Fieri said, “Cooking is all about people.  Food is maybe the only universal thing that really has the power to bring everyone together.  No matter what culture, everywhere around the world, people get together to eat.”  To the newly married couple smart enough to register for it, I hope you both know it is with much love that your cousin and I bought you all just a casserole dish.