bonjour, little cookie.

We have found that it's always helpful to know a few basic words or phrases in a handful of different languages. Aside from hello, goodbye, yes, no, thank you, where is the bathroom, how much does this cost, and do you have a girlfriend, we'd like to add one more to the French list: macaron. It remains to be seen if these little cookies will catch on in the same way that cupcakes and frozen yogurt have, but given the trend's migration from Paris to New York, it seems as though a mini merengue sandwich storm may be headed our way.
So before the midwestern masses begin forming lines á la Sprinkles and Pinkberry..

..we highly recommend that you get your tush on over to Pierrot Gourmet. In addition to having fab food for a normal meal, this extension of the Peninsula Hotel is also quite dependable when it comes to macarons. On this past misty Saturday, we took advantage of the fact that PG is located in our 'hood and grabbed one of each flavor -- lemon, pistachio, dulce de leche, strawberry, coconut, chocolate mint, nutella, and chocolate. Since we couldn't be seated immediately, we took our 11am snack to Starbucks for a caffeine accompaniment, and while awkwardly sitting at the large communal table with a few other patrons who shot us judgy looks, we played food critics. We can't say one bad thing about the technique or texture, but a few of the cookies went a little too far into what we could only describe as "American." The dulce de leche and chocolate mint were like glorified candy bars with unnecessary ingredients stuffed in. A macaron is supposed to be light and airy, and that was muddled by the blob (technical term) of caramel in one and the taste of toothpaste in another. All of that aside, the lemon and pistachio were by far the best and most authentic, and we will most certainly be back for more.

We took K's canines for a stroll afterwards, and here's Chloe, strutting her tiny little waistline,
easily maintained due to the fact that we did not include her in the taste-testing.

fido friday: lean on me.

Sebastian exclusively likes Chloe, Chloe can't have any friends over because of Sebastian, Penny is concerned by Chloe's smallness since she was only socialized with Golden Retrievers and is terrified of animals under 50 lbs (unless it's a cat, specifically Pete), and Stella and Sophie (may that snuggly bear rest in peace) were cool with just about anyone. And they say that dogs aren't complex creatures.. please.

Here is some photographic documentation of our dog's friendship neuroses in action.

Enjoy this dose of "cute" for the day and have a great weekend!

wishlist wednesday: no bones about it.

Anyone who has a dog and is not yet at the point of having children cannot help themselves but to project all kinds of delusions onto their canine companions. Ours are spoiled rotten, and between organic food and treats, the run of the house, more toys than most young children have, regular groomings, and incredibly attentive grandparents (who double as dog-sitters), there's no hope but to continue to perpetuate the weird little relationship that is "[wo]man's best friend." Behold the wishlists of Penny, Chloe and Sebastian, our precious little monsters.

dog carrier / conditioning spray / treats / sleepypod / plush toys / leash / tag / collar / benz bed
[sassy pup not available]

In a faraway land/alternate universe where unicorns roam the countryside, chocolate is a multivitamin, and money grows on trees, you will also see my dog being toted around in a Gucci carrier or walked with a Balenciaga leash. In this life? Not so much. Everything else here could be quite feasible, and the SleepyPod has become my most favorite reality. If you have a smaller dog that spends a good amount of time in the car with you, purchase one now. It's safe, roomy, and looks a lot less awkward than the puppy booster seats.

Not that these two ever want for anything, but I’d like to think that if they did then Chloe would enjoy a seasonal update to her accessories, trading her studded collar and fur blanket for bright, feminine pieces – like the lavender strap collar, darling new dogtag, and on-trend floral dog bowl. She would spruce up her space in my car with a minty green mat, and an octopus in the official color of 2012, tangerine. This little one doesn’t need any “Puppy Uppers”, but the Jonathan Adler treat jar is hard to resist, especially when mama has a matching “dolls” jar on her nightstand. Sebastian would imaginably upgrade his lifestyle to cultivate the ultimate man-cave. In his collection: a rugged cowhide couch he is finally allowed to sit on, a British flag dog bed for napping by the fire, and to highlight his English roots, and finally an appropriately manly dog bowl and leash with metal rivets to match his collar. While Sebastian sleeps soundly, dreaming of bones too large to fit in his bowl, Chloe stays up all night scheming how to get a paw-print cupcake for her birthday April 12th.

fido friday: the bull gets a bath.

After a holiday season spent ripping up wrapping paper, pulling apart bows, and running through our ever-so-dirty Chicago sludge, this bull was ready for a bath. I hate turning over my sweet boy to a groomer, he just doesn’t feel like the type of dog that should be “groomed” –  he’s a bulldog, shouldn't he be washed in a yard with a hose? Alas, we live in a condo in the city, and we’ve raised a privileged bulldog with a rebellious personality, so our options are slim: clog the bath tub in our guest bathroom with tufts of white quills OR take Sebastian over to my new favorite spot, Soggy Paws, for a self-wash!

I got Sebas into a bathtub, and after his very professional facial, we lathered, rinsed, and dried him, and left the mess behind (bonus: my tiny pug fits into Soggy Paws’ small-dog-bucket and only runs an extra $10!). 

 All done! I love Sebastian's brilliant, shiny, white fur and the fact that he no longer smells like a garbage truck - he on the other hand cannot wait to get a grass stain or some dirt onto his clean coat, and get his swagger back. 

Happy Friday! Sebastian and Chloe will spend their weekend very busy with walks, naps and lots of snacks.

meet fido.

Spot. Buddy. Baxter. Fido. Man's best friend. A tail-wagging, smile-inducing, ever-loyal furry companion.

Allow us to introduce our fidos.

Meet Penny

Once upon a time (aka 2005) in the non-Chicago part of Illinois, a tiny little nugget was born to Sadie, a Maltese, and Prince of the Clouds, a Teacup Poodle (whatever you do, do not call her a Maltipoo). She was flown out to Denver and picked up at the airport by the stunningly gorgeous (sshhh, just let me have this one) girl who had purchased her. Unable to fully comprehend just how small this thing was (a gross little 1 lb), said owner refused to hold the puppy at first and made her friend do the dirty work of panicking about potentially breaking one of this bird dog's bird bones. The dog also needed her name to be changed, since it was clear from both the scrappy appearance and personality that she could no longer be known by the originally chosen moniker of Lola. After about half an hour of scouring the internet for ideas, it came to.. Penny? And so it was. Penny is a very loved, very weird five pound girl. She has lived in three different states, a countless number of apartments, made grown men talk in the babiest of baby voices, shopped at Bergdorf's, and even attended class at CU Boulder. She always received an A+ for effort, and truth be told, was far more alert than a large majority of the rest of the class. It was Boulder, need I say more? She now lives in Chicago with a long entryway perfect for playing fetch, enjoys long car rides, walks on the beach (and by walks, I mean sprints), dominating Golden Retrievers, snuggling, watching Bravo programming, and is considering taking her finely-tuned circus/comedy routine on the road. Nicknames include Penelope, Peninsula, Penny Lane, Penoodle, Pennifer, and our personal favorite, Chicken.

Meet Chloe & Sebastian

The tiny pug, commonly known as Wiener (“Winner” if you ask my Papa), was an experiment that began with margaritas at lunch, and ended with a stroll into a completely unfortunate puppy-mill stocked pet shop in Chicago. As soon as we walked in, I knew I would leave calling one of these sweet things my own. Chloe, or Ethel as she was named by the store owner, was a 10 week old runt with four brothers. My girlfriend and I took her home that night, for the “trial run” we had been offered by the pet store. We set-up a sleepover for ourselves, with the tiny monster cuddled between us, tucked in under the covers, finally safe and home. I woke up in the middle of the night, sweating – there were too many animals in this bed! But, as I kicked the sheets around, I realized it wasn’t sweat that was making me uncomfortable. It was Chloe; she had pooped under the covers! In a screaming frenzy, we started kicking everything off the bed, running to rinse the dog, ourselves and any of the bedding we could salvage. I knew if I could love her after that, then my heart had in fact opened and made room for this tiny little pug. Chloe is still the toughest girl around, she’ll go head to head with Mastiffs and Rottweilers alike, she’s a scrappy little know-it-all, with a Napoleon complex to match. Luckily, these days she has her best friend Sebastian around to be her "muscle".

A year and a half before J proposed to me, we brought home a bundle of joy, a little round-bellied white bulldog, who we quickly named Sebastian. Sebastian is a man’s man. He snores. He burps. He farts. All audibly.  But, behind his rough exterior lies the ultimate mama’s boy. This 55-lbs bull has no reason to think that he is not a lap dog. He snuggles up to my cheek, stands up to give me a proper hug, licks away tears, and guards our bedside if either one of us is sick or upset. He would defend Chloe, me and J to the death. He is tough as nails, and loyal to a fault. My little snow bunny loves to plow his face through the fresh snow, he tries to eat snowflakes as they fall, and he trots around  like a polar bear in the cold. Bass collects tennis balls, rawhides, and stuffed animals, and spends his evenings lying by the fire.

Do you have any furry friends at home? Can you imagine your life without them?! We can't.

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