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There’s something about Labor Day weekend that always feels like somebody flipped a switch.

Technically, summer isn’t over yet. But the unofficial end is here, and for the first time in what feels like months, I’ve had a chance to look back at what was an incredibly busy, incredibly rewarding and, at times, pretty emotional summer.

And you know what?

I wouldn’t change a thing.

After months, and I mean MONTHS of planning, the World Cup came and went. Thankfully, none of the things we spent all that time preparing for actually happened. From an emergency management standpoint, that’s pretty much the perfect outcome. You plan, prepare, meet, exercise, plan some more, prepare for everything you can possibly imagine…and then hopefully none of it is ever needed.

We were ready if it was.

But as proud as I was of that work, the biggest thrill and honor of my EMS career happened somewhere completely different this summer:

In an EMT classroom.

I got to teach my daughter.

From Dad to Instructor

Having Gabby as one of my EMT students was something I’ll never forget.

But I also don’t want to make this JUST about her, because I’ve been really lucky, or blessed, depending on how you look at it with my last two EMT classes.

Every instructor knows that every class has at least one or two students who occasionally make you stare across the classroom and silently wonder:

Why are you here?

It’s just part of teaching.

But these last two classes had a whole bunch of students who genuinely wanted to become EMTs. They cared about learning. They cared about becoming good providers. They asked questions. They challenged themselves.

And almost as importantly…

They were REALLY, REALLY fun to teach.

When you spend Monday, Wednesday and Thursday nights and Saturdays with the same group of people for months, you get to know them pretty well. You watch them go from being completely overwhelmed by patient assessment to suddenly putting all the pieces together.

Somewhere along the way, they stop just being your students and become new members of this weird little EMS family.

And then suddenly, it’s over.

This week was graduation for the fire and EMS students from the last two semesters. It was great watching everyone receive their certificates, taking what seemed like a thousand selfies, laughing with them one more time and realizing that I’m not going to see some of these people every Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday anymore.

I’ll admit it.

That part was harder than I expected.

One of my favorite moments of graduation was getting to hand a completion certificate to my friend, former student and current ambulance partner, Mazie.

I wrote about Mazie a few months ago, and since then I’ve had the privilege of watching her continue to grow as an EMT.

Recently, we had a patient with a pretty serious traumatic injury. I left Mazie and Gabby together to assess and treat the patient while I assumed one of the most important roles an experienced EMT can possibly have:

Equipment sherpa.

I carried the stuff.

They took care of the patient.

And they did exactly what they were supposed to do.

Watching my daughter and someone I’ve had the privilege of mentoring work together confidently and competently was one of those moments when you quietly stand back and think:

Yeah. This is why I still do this.

Proud dad moment.

Proud mentor moment.

Definitely both.

Three Tests. Three Days. One Shot.

I blogged earlier this summer about having Gabby in class, but the ending to that story became slightly more insane than I anticipated.

She finished the class and suddenly found herself in a bit of a scheduling jam.

She was leaving for Florence, Italy, for a semester abroad and needed to get her National Registry EMT exam done before she left.

Simple enough.

Except apparently our family doesn’t believe in doing anything the easy way.

First, she squeezed in a whirlwind trip to Nashville with her friend Alison and Alison’s family to see Megan Moroney in concert.

And when I say whirlwind, I mean whirlwind.

Out of Newark Saturday morning.

Back before noon Sunday.

Then she informs me that she has to work Monday AND Tuesday at the YMCA, where she coaches gymnastics.

She leaves for Italy Wednesday.

So there was exactly one window to pull this off.

Three tests.

Three days.

Wednesday: Final Skills Practical Exam.

Thursday: Final Written Exam.

Friday: National Registry of EMTs Exam.

No pressure.

She aced all three.

Although during the practical exam, I’m fairly certain she was approximately 30 seconds away from throwing up.

By the time she got on the plane for Nashville Saturday morning, the results were in:

Nationally Certified Emergency Medical Technician.

And before she left for Italy a few days later, she got word that she was officially certified by the State of New Jersey too.

Mission accomplished.

And Then It Got Really Real

Meanwhile, because apparently we weren’t busy enough, Tuesday of that same week Maria and I moved Olivia into her new apartment at Ramapo to begin her junior year of college.

Junior.

Year.

How the hell did that happen?

I swear it was yesterday that I was walking these kids to elementary school every morning with a little pack of neighborhood kids following along.

And now Olivia is halfway through college.

She’s moved into her apartment with roommates she really likes, and it sounds like she’s set up for a great year.

And Olivia, before you point out that this blog once again contains significantly more Gabby than Olivia—I know.

I promise next week you’re getting your own.

We had way too much fun together this summer to cram it into a couple of paragraphs here anyway.

Then Wednesday came.

For months, we had talked about Gabby spending a semester in Florence.

It was on calendars.

Flights were booked.

Plans were made.

But somehow it still felt like something that was happening someday.

Until suddenly it wasn’t someday.

It was Wednesday.

Watching Maria and Gabby somehow cram several months’ worth of “necessities” into two suitcases should probably qualify as an Olympic event.

Then we were off to the airport.

And there were some very teary goodbyes.

A week later, she’s settled into Florence. She handled a ridiculously short European connection like a seasoned traveler, got herself moved into her dorm and started classes.

And as I write this, she and her friend Petra are off on their first European excursion.

Ibiza.

Because apparently Florence wasn’t adventurous enough.

Was Dad thrilled about Ibiza?

Let’s just say “thrilled” would not be the word I would choose.

But they’re having the time of their lives.

Classes only started Wednesday, so we’ll see how things look once the actual school part of “study abroad” really kicks in. Somehow, though, I don’t think it’s going to dampen either of their spirits very much.

And I’m happy for them.

Really happy.

I hope they explore. I hope they learn. I hope they get lost occasionally—preferably only figuratively. I hope they eat incredible food, meet incredible people, see things they’ve only read about and come home with stories they’ll still be telling when they’re my age.

I hope they truly have the experience of their lives.

And Then There Were Two…Again

And just like that, Maria and I are empty nesters again.

After a summer filled with World Cup planning, EMT classes, ambulance calls, concerts, college move-ins, certifications, airports and more than a few emotional moments, the house is suddenly a little quieter.

Which means I might actually have some time to cook again.

Cooking has been a little sporadic lately. I’ve managed to sneak some in here and there, but there haven’t been nearly enough long afternoons in the kitchen just experimenting and seeing where things go.

I’m thinking that’s about to change.

Maria and I have entered Empty Nest 2.0, so maybe it’s time for a little culinary adventuring again.

And maybe—just maybe—Adopted by Pasta will start showing up a little more regularly than it has lately.

No promises.

Have you seen our schedule?

But we’re going to try.

And after spending this entire post talking about a summer in which absolutely nothing seemed simple, this week’s recipe is going in the opposite direction.

We’re keeping it easy.

We’re keeping it Italian.

We’re keeping it delicious.

Because sometimes after a summer like this, you don’t need anything complicated.

You just need some good bread, great ingredients, a glass of wine and someone you love sitting across the table.

So, let’s make a panini.

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Open-Faced Peach, Prosciutto & Hot Honey Panini

This is exactly my kind of recipe: very little work, really good ingredients and something that tastes like you put significantly more effort into it than you actually did.

And like most simple Italian food, this comes down to one rule:

If there aren’t many ingredients, use really good ones.

First, Let’s Talk About the Bread

Start with good Italian bread.

Around here, I’m partial to Calandra’s. Their Italian bread is about as close as I’ve found to what bread should be: flour, water and salt.

That’s it.

No chemistry experiment.

No list of preservatives designed to make a loaf of bread somehow remain “fresh” until sometime next spring.

Bread isn’t supposed to be shelf stable for six months.

Yuck.

For this recipe, cut the bread into thick slices—about ¾ to 1 inch—because we’re going to pile some stuff on top of it.

What You’ll Need

Makes 4 open-faced panini

• 4 thick slices good Italian bread
• Extra-virgin olive oil
• Flaky or coarse sea salt
• 8 ounces fresh mozzarella, sliced
• 1 cup whole-milk ricotta
• 1–2 tablespoons hot honey
• ½ teaspoon dried oregano
• ½ teaspoon dried basil
• ¼ teaspoon dried parsley
• Pinch of garlic powder
• Freshly cracked black pepper
• 6–8 thin slices good-quality prosciutto
• 2 ripe but still firm peaches
• 1 tablespoon olive oil or butter for cooking the peaches
• Honey or hot honey for finishing
• Arugula, optional

Make the Hot-Honey Ricotta

Let’s skip the jar of “Italian seasoning” and make our own.

In a small bowl, combine the ricotta, 1 tablespoon of hot honey, oregano, basil, parsley, garlic powder and a few turns of freshly cracked black pepper.

Mix everything together until creamy.

Then taste it.

Want more heat? Add another little squeeze of hot honey.

Want it slightly sweeter?

Same answer.

You can also make this ahead and let it sit in the refrigerator for about 30 minutes. That gives those dried herbs a chance to wake up and mingle with the ricotta.

Cook the Peaches

Cut the peaches into wedges. Don’t make them paper thin because we want them to hold together when they cook.

Heat a grill pan or skillet over medium-high heat and add just enough olive oil or butter to lightly coat the surface.

Lay down the peach slices and leave them alone for about 2 minutes.

You’re looking for a little caramelization around the edges, not peach mush.

Flip and cook for another minute or two.

Remove them from the pan and set aside.

And try not to eat all of them while you make everything else.

Toast the Bread

Brush both sides of your Italian bread lightly with extra-virgin olive oil and sprinkle with a little sea salt.

Heat a large skillet over medium heat and toast the bread until golden and crisp on the bottom.

Flip it over.

Now lay the fresh mozzarella over the toasted side, lower the heat slightly and cover the pan for a minute or two.

You want that mozzarella soft and melted while the bottom of the bread gets golden and crispy.

That’s our panini.

No panini press required.

Now Build This Thing

Take your mozzarella-covered bread out of the pan.

Give each piece a healthy smear of the hot-honey ricotta.

And I mean healthy.

This isn’t the time for a decorative teaspoon of ricotta.

Next comes the prosciutto.

And here I’m going to encourage you to spend a couple of extra bucks.

Get the good stuff.

Find an Italian market, deli or specialty store where they’ll slice good prosciutto paper thin for you. Supermarket packaged prosciutto will technically work, but when prosciutto is one of the stars of the dish, you can absolutely taste the difference.

Drape a couple of slices over the ricotta.

Then add your warm grilled peaches.

Finish everything with a drizzle of regular honey if you want to emphasize the sweet side—or another drizzle of hot honey if you want a little more kick.

To Green or Not to Green

Normally, I’d finish this with a small handful of fresh arugula.

That peppery bite would be fantastic against the sweet peaches, salty prosciutto and creamy cheeses.

But we’ve been on a bit of a No Greens Tour this summer because of the Cyclospora concerns and outbreaks we’ve been following.

So mine went arugula-free.

And you know what?

I didn’t miss it.

If you’re comfortable adding it, though, a little fresh arugula tossed on top just before serving would be fantastic.

And There You Have It

Crunchy olive-oil-and-sea-salt Italian bread.

Melted mozzarella.

Creamy ricotta with herbs and hot honey.

Salty, silky prosciutto.

Warm caramelized peaches.

And that last little drizzle of honey running over everything.

Sweet.

Salty.

Creamy.

Crunchy.

And just enough heat.

It looks and tastes like something you’d pay $19 for at some trendy little Italian café.

Except you made it in a frying pan.

After the summer we just had, that’s about my speed.

Pour the wine, sit down with somebody you love and enjoy the fact that at least for tonight, there’s nowhere else you have to be.

Buon appetito from the temporarily empty nest.