New York Bound: Trading My Marine Boots for Olive Oil Toast

Life has a funny way of taking unexpected turns, doesn’t it? As a long-time blogger, I’ve always felt a deep connection to my readers, a desire to share not just recipes, but the real-life adventures and quiet moments that shape them. Recently, my family and I embarked on one of life’s most significant journeys: a move. We’ve traded familiar landscapes for the charming, historic streets of Schenectady, New York, and with this new chapter comes a fresh perspective and, of course, new kitchen discoveries. This isn’t just a tale of moving boxes and new addresses; it’s an exploration of adapting, overcoming, and finding joy in the simple, everyday acts, like crafting the perfect slice of olive oil toast.

Our new home is full of character, from the tiny strip of pegboard in the kitchen to the delightful cabinets adorned with awesome blue knobs. There’s even a corner cupboard boasting not one, but two lazy Susans, stacked strategically to maximize space – a small detail that brings a smile to my face daily. Outside, a pear tree and an apple tree are already bearing fruit, promising future harvests and homemade treats. And yes, my new landlord, a wonderful woman with a pragmatic sense of humor, has already advised me to get a cat to help with the occasional mouse or squirrel visitor. I adore her and her straightforward advice.

I know, I know. You might be thinking, “Just get to the recipe already!” And trust me, the olive oil toast is worth the wait. It’s not just a dish; it’s a symbol of resilience, a simple pleasure born from necessity. In fact, learning how to prepare it became particularly handy when, post-move, we temporarily misplaced our toaster. It’s a revelation for anyone looking to simplify their kitchen or even considering downsizing. More than that, it’s become a new favorite in our household, a testament to how the simplest ingredients can create something truly special.

Unexpected Paths: A Journey from College to Marine Corps Life

Before we dive into the delicious details of that toast, let me share a bit more about the journey that led us here. My understanding of dedication, adaptation, and unforeseen life paths was profoundly shaped by experiences that began long before our recent move. Back in my freshman year of college, in the fall of 1999, there was a boy named Ewan who lived in my entryway. I’d often see him on his room floor, clad in dark green sweats and a t-shirt, diligently performing push-ups and sit-ups. The sight always struck me as peculiar, yet I gave it little thought. “Ewan’s intense,” I’d mused, as I, without a care in the world, would skip up the stairs, perhaps hoping to coax my roommates into a fro-yo run.

It’s almost embarrassing to recall my naiveté. That distinctive dark green attire should have been an immediate clue. I later learned Ewan was rigorously training to become a Marine Corps Officer. And even later, the stark reality hit harder when I discovered that shortly after college, Ewan would lead a platoon of Marines to Iraq. His silent dedication, once a mystery, now resonated with profound significance.

The military, in truth, remained an abstract concept to me until the fall of 2006. That’s when Ben, my husband, made the pivotal decision to withdraw from medical school and join the Marines himself. It was a life-altering choice that reshaped our future entirely. In January 2007, I drove Ben from Philadelphia to Quantico, a journey filled with mixed emotions. There, we exchanged the first of what would become many poignant goodbyes as Ben commenced Officer Candidate School (OCS), the demanding initial phase of a year-long regimen to become an infantry officer.

Embracing the Military Lifestyle: Acronyms and Adventures

That year was a whirlwind of change and learning. As Ben transitioned through OCS, then to The Basic School (TBS), and finally to the Infantry Officer Course (IOC) – acronyms that quickly became part of our daily vocabulary – I remained busy in Philadelphia. I continued my work, and it was also during this period that I started blogging, a creative outlet that would become a constant through our nomadic life. The distance wasn’t always easy, but it fostered an appreciation for every visit. I eagerly awaited those bi-weekly Chinatown bus trips to meet Ben in D.C., where we’d indulge in delicious meals at places like 2Amys, visit my grandmother in McLean, and eventually return to our separate routines, always counting down to the next reunion.

And then, life truly became an adventure. Ben’s assignment to Camp Pendleton in Southern California necessitated a cross-country move. We embraced the challenge, armed with our trusty Roadfood guide, meticulously planning a culinary road trip. Some of you might fondly recall that unforgettable 10-day drive, filled with gastronomic highlights. I still remember the unique taste of Mahnomin porridge at Hell’s Kitchen in Minneapolis and the sheer delight of everything we ordered at Cafe Pasqual’s in Santa Fe. And who could forget the exhilaration of finally arriving in southern California, and eventually settling in San Clemente, our home for three incredible years?

Those years were a wonderful, transformative journey. The Marine Corps led us to the land of abundant avocados, sun-kissed lemons, and irresistible fish tacos and breakfast burritos. We bought wetsuits and booties, bravely (or perhaps comically) attempted to surf the Pacific waves, and navigated the emotional landscape of Ben’s two deployments and subsequent returns. It was in California that our daughter, Ella, was born, forever tying a piece of our hearts to the Golden State. Following this vibrant chapter, the Marine Corps then guided us back to the East Coast, bringing us closer to family and a comforting sense of what felt like home.

A New Chapter and Timeless Life Lessons

Now, another chapter begins, and it’s time to move forward from active duty military life. While a part of me feels a pang of sadness that my children may not remember Ben in his Marine uniform, we are filled with contentment over every decision made in these past few years. Being back in the Northeast, even after just one week, already feels profoundly right, a deep sense of belonging settling over us. But before I get too sentimental, I want to share some invaluable phrases I’ve absorbed over the years. While many are rooted in military ethos, their wisdom transcends the barracks, offering profound guidance for everyday life.

Maritime Wisdom for Daily Life

• One is none, two is one. This motto is a personal favorite, often invoked playfully with Ben when he questions my tendency to stock up. Why do we have a dozen bottles of dishwasher detergent under the sink and sixteen rolls of paper towels in the hallway closet? Because in preparedness, redundancy is security. It’s a philosophy that speaks to having backups, anticipating needs, and ensuring continuity, whether you’re facing a critical mission or simply running a household.
• Adapt and overcome. Simple, yet profoundly powerful. This phrase embodies resilience, encouraging us to face challenges head-on, find creative solutions, and never be defeated by unexpected obstacles. It’s about pivoting when plans go awry, just as we did when faced with a missing toaster, transforming a potential culinary disaster into the delicious origin story of our olive oil toast.
• Slow is smooth, smooth is fast. Ella, with her uncanny wisdom, often reminds me of this when I’m flustered, perhaps struggling to strap her into her car seat. It’s a powerful reminder that rushing often leads to mistakes, inefficiency, and frustration. By taking the time to perform tasks deliberately and precisely, we achieve better results more quickly in the long run. It’s about focused attention and mindful execution.
• As fast as you can, as slow as you must. This phrase often comes to mind when I’m in the kitchen, carefully chopping onions. It’s a nuanced approach to efficiency, urging us to maintain a good pace where possible, but to slow down and be meticulous when precision and quality demand it. It’s about finding that optimal balance between speed and accuracy in all endeavors, from cooking to complex projects.
• Go big. I love the boldness of this one. It means “be bold” in a practical sense, not necessarily daring or reckless. For example, if you anticipate being late, instead of telling a friend you’ll be there in 15 minutes when you know it’s realistically 30, “go big.” Tell them you need at least 30 to 45 minutes. This manages expectations, reduces stress for both parties, and fosters trust. It’s about honesty, realistic assessment, and setting clear boundaries.
• Time spent on reconnaissance is never wasted. Have you ever found yourself gripped by extreme buyer’s remorse after dining in an overpriced, mediocre tourist trap? Raise your hand if you have! This principle is a strong argument for due diligence. A little research—a quick online check, a few questions—takes minimal time but almost always yields superior outcomes, saving you from regret and ensuring better choices, whether it’s for a meal or a major life decision.

The serendipitous creation of this olive oil toast unfolded just last Friday. My mother and I, utterly famished at 10 PM after a marathon day of driving (for me), greeting movers (for her), and unpacking (for both), finally got the children settled. We then decided it was high time for some well-deserved beer and food. To our dismay, we couldn’t find either the bottle opener or the toaster. This was a true “adapt and overcome” moment. Resourcefully, we jammed the beer bottles into a latch plate to pry them open – a testament to necessity being the mother of invention! For the bread, we turned to a trusty cast-iron skillet, frying slices in a generous pool of olive oil on the stovetop. That beer and bread, born of desperation, tasted more delicious than anything we’d ever had. We made several batches that evening, and I’ve continued to make this olive oil toast every day since, even after our toaster was finally located. For an extra kick, I’ve been using a wonderfully flavorful jalapeño oil from the Temecula Olive Oil Company, but a sprinkle of crushed red pepper flakes works beautifully if you enjoy a touch of heat. This simple dish encapsulates the spirit of our journey: finding deliciousness and joy amidst the chaos, and always, always adapting.

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