Battered Notebook

Movie Mania

2012-01-22T16:08:00.001-05:00

It's January, and it's that time of the year: either stay in motion or fall asleep right where I stand or sit. Preferably with some movie droning on the TV and at least one cat on my lap. I've lost count of how many people I've heard say they're tired right now. Not surprising, given the post holiday let-down and carby foods that are so tempting these days (OK, I will really try to not make any more monstrous casseroles centered around tater tots or bread). These truly are the dark times.

But during that lolling around, I've gotten to watch 'Dune' a couple of times lately. What a weird movie. The story is awesome, yes, but the ways the 80's version depicted the technology are completely off the wall. Still, if I see it on any channel, that's where I'm gonna park.

The week between Christmas and New Years was my own personal 'Ground Hog Day'. Not horrible, just a bit repetitive. I get up, drag myself to the coffee maker. Manage to do 30 minutes of exercise, telling myself I will do the other 15 minutes stairclimbing at work during lunch break. Vow to not eat too many Christmas cookies in the next 18 hours. Feed cats. I shower. Here's where we get a bit of variety: I have my Philosophy 3-in-1 shower gels all lined up on the shower seat. Cinnamon Hot Dots, Maple-Glazed Cake, or Peppermint Bark. All quite delicious. Smoosh my contacts in my eyes and head out to heat up some dinner. Either leftover 'city chicken' (Thank you, Ann), white lasagna, risotto and green salad or some combination thereof. 'The Polar Express' has been on every single night this week on one particular Direct TV channel. I heat up dinner, starting in at the same point in the movie, finish dinner on the couch, relocate into the bathroom and finish watching in there, while I dry my hair and put on make-up, and turn it off at the same exact point in the movie before I hurry out to give Mocha Java his insulin shot, and then out the door to work to face the same lunacy/different department.

Speaking of work, there's been a lot of change: besides the computer upgrade in October (only now is the new system starting to feel natural), a favorite coworker retired in November (we miss you, Bob!!!!!), and his replacement needs a LOT of help/support on the job. Frustrating as hell, because she's been there for 10 years and acts newer than the new hires. And needs to share the details of her odysseys with CPS, law enforcement and the courts concerning her adopted violent, delinquent girls-gone-wild 17-year old twin daughters, and her newly ward-of-the-state three year-old granddaughter (yes, that would mean one of them was pregnant at 14). A new third shift part-timer is going through a drawn-out divorce, and all too willing to share the latest details to everyone and anyone. I seem to be a favorite ear for all this, since I actively listen. Yeah, I just do. Working with these two is a bit like a combination of a phone call from mom and taking a crisis call where I volunteer. While it's revolting everyone else, I seem to have a tolerance for it. There's been a hell of a lot of drama where I volunteer lately, too. Communal living just doesn't suit some DV vicitims, and the resulting friction makes for some interesting reading in the communication log each week (one resident allegedly stabbing another resident's bananas...really??)

So 'The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo' was good for making all that seem tame and normal by comparison. I deliberately gave up 4 hours of perfectly good sleep to join two coworkers/friends to go see the earliest showing in a Grand Blanc theater on a Wednesday. The times I get to do fun things with the girls are so few and far between that giving up large chunks of sleep when the opportunities come up seems like a completely reasonable price to pay. And now I'm reading the book, so hopefully some things will make more sense. Quite, um exciting, to say the least. I'm surprised I was able to fall asleep at all afterwards.

This afternoon, I visited a movie theater for the second time in less than 2 weeks. Sheer craziness! I talked Tim ('I don't like movie theaters! The floors are always sticky!') into going to see 'Red Tails' in Brighton. Despite a small amount of predictablity, it was a great story, plenty of action and eye-candy-filled entertainment.

Yes, I like movies.

Not Your Grandma's Lebkuchen

2012-01-14T08:20:00.000-05:00

White Lasagna

2011-12-28T07:40:00.003-05:00

This is from late last week. We're still working on finishing it. It's a recipe I got in 1990 from a coworker, who ironically is about a size 0 soaking wet. I haven't made this in ages, but I got a recent persistent craving for it. It's sooooooooooo good. No excuse better than the holidays to indulge. Right?

1 to 1 1/2 pounds mushrooms cut in large pieces (quarters/thick slices)
8 Tb (one stick) butter, divided in half
2 Tb olive oil
3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1/4 C flour
1/4 tsp nutmeg
2 C half-and-half cream
2 C sour cream
2 C ricotta cheese
Enough lasagna noodles to make 3 layers (15 or so)
2 C grated Parmesan cheese, plus additional for sprinkling each layer and top
Salt and pepper to taste

Saute' the mushrooms and garlic in 4 Tb butter and the olive oil. Salt and pepper to season, set aside.

Make a roux by melting the other 4 Tb butter, and adding the flour. Cook and stir with a wire whisk until flour is blended and cooked, 5-7 minutes. Add the nutmeg and some pepper. Add the half-and-half cream and the sour cream. Whisk until smooth. Add the grated Parmesan cheese. Cook until cheese is completely melted. Do not allow the sauce to boil. Salt and pepper to taste.

To assemble, ladle enough sauce on the bottom of a deep 9 by 13-inch baking dish to cover. Arrange a layer of noodles on the sauce, breaking/overlapping to fit as needed. Spread half the ricotta cheese evenly over the noodles. Spread half the mushrooms over the cheese. Ladle enough sauce to cover. Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese. Repeat for second layer.

For the third layer: noodles, then sauce, then Parmesan cheese. Cover with aluminum foil and bake 45 minutes at 375F. Allow to stand 15-20 minutes before slicing.

Notes:

--I was generous with the mushrooms. I used more like 2 pounds.

--I was also generous with the ricotta. I had another partial container, so I used that up, too.

--Half-and-half cream is 10-12% milkfat (not sure why it's called half-and-half). There are a few substitute recipes on line using combos of skim milk, butter, evaporated milk, cream... Since I had some whole milk (about 3% fat) and some heavy whipping cream (36% fat) on hand, I just approximated amounts of these in my big measuring cup. It was waaaay too late in my day to set up the algebra problem that would have yielded a precise result.

--I had some grated Asiago in the fridge, so I used that in place of some of the Parmesan. It was a nice addition.

--I found myself wishing I'd used a bit more salt. Mushrooms, ricotta cheese and bechamel can be pretty bland on their own, and I tend to be really conservative when salting our cooking. This is a dish that needs salt.

--I used whole grain noodles (one feeble attempt at health/fiber consumption during the holiday caloric madness, and it's all I have in the pantry these days). I also do not cook my noodles before assembly. I just lay them down like shingles between the fillings--it's so much easier. But I typically assemble my lasagnas and then refrigerate them for about 6-8 hours, then bake. The final consistency is a little more al dente and velvety, but they absorb moisture (I added another splash or two of milk to the sauce before assembling) and this works just fine.

Those Powdered Sugar-Covered Crumbly Ball Cookies

2011-12-14T08:39:00.007-05:00

That only seem to show up around Christmas. Yeah, these:

Russian tea cakes. Mexican wedding cakes. Polvorones. We called them 'worms' from the time we were in single digit ages because Mom always shaped them into crescents.

Whatever you want to call them, they've been on my mind lately. A lot. One of those odd, simple (and actually non-chocolate) things that I daydream about every now and then. I've made them twice in two weeks. Here's Mom's recipe:

1 cup butter
1 cup sifted powdered sugar (plus additional for coating)
1/2 tsp. salt
1-2 cups almonds or pecans, ground (she's got pecans underlined...I concur)
1 Tb vanilla
2 cups flour

Cream butter. Gradually add the 1 cup powdered sugar and salt, creaming well. Stir in pecans and vanilla. Add flour gradually. Mix thoroughly.

Shape by rounded spoonfuls into crescents (or balls). Place on ungreased cookie sheets.

Bake at 325F for 15 to 18 minutes. Do not brown. Roll (carefully) while warm in powdered sugar.

Notes:

Since the price of pecans seems to be keeping pace with the price of gold lately, I cut them with almonds. I toasted the nuts lightly beforehand. Cool them completely before grinding and adding to the butter mixture.

Chill the dough balls before baking. They still spread out, but not as much as room temperature dough. Possibly because of the increased fattiness of the pecans, and the loosey-goosey amount of nuts in the recipe--I've been using 1.5 to 2 cups. Looks like I'm going to have to do more research to achieve the nicely spherical cookies I've seen pictured elsewhere...

Thanksgiving in the Heart of Pennsylvania

2011-12-02T09:29:00.018-05:00

A fine, relaxing time was had by all. Even, I think, by sister-in-law Diana, who once again kept up a steady stream of good, solid table fare from Wednesday night through Saturday morning.

This trip, we included a stop near Somerset, PA to visit the now 10 year-old site of the crashed Flight 93. Hard to believe it's been 10 years since that epic date already. First time visit for us, and from what dad Reinert was saying, maybe their third visit. The memorial is evolving, according to the volunteer who greeted us in the bitter wind out near the white granite slabs bearing all the names of the crew and passengers. Phase one is done, and next up for construction is a visitors' center. When you drive in, you wonder if you are EVER going to arrive anywhere. The speed limit is 25, so there is definitely the feeling of a funeral procession. It's in an old empty coal strip mining field, and the volunteer says it's pretty much the same today as it was September 2001. Finally you get to a parking lot and message center, and you can walk an enclosed pathway toward the actual crash site in the hemlock grove. There's just a boulder and a few small American flags some distance away (which the average visitor/non-victim family member is not allowed to go near). It's a simply designed memorial, with parallel walls marking the direction of the flight path. Now I can say I've visited all three 9/11 sites. I suppose technically we did not exit the Pentagon subway station in Washington DC to actually see the building, but we were right there.

If a house's front door practically opens right onto the road, we must be in Pennsylvania. I'm always amazed at the closeness of the homes to the roads there. What was probably once a horse and buggy track is now main road, which expanded as wide as space allowed. And places just seem somehow more intensely countrified. Candles in every window, stone-walled houses, Amish farms... I always enjoy visiting that state, no matter what the season.

I loved nephew Benjamin's comment Wednesday night as we were plowing through a feast of beef brisket, sweet potato casserole, rice pilaf, corn, and a long dining table full of other side dishes: 'Mom, for tomorrow, how are you going to top this?' Well, Thursday night's free-range turkey feast equalled or bettered that meal. Something else I always enjoy when we visit John and Diana's place is taking on prep chef duties. I will gladly chop veggies, mix salad dressings, sautee' bacon, and do whatever needs doing in that kitchen. Diana and I both took naps Thanksgiving afternoon (both rare luxury and necessity) and blearily began food prep. We dined a little later than Diana had planned, but then again, who was on a schedule? I thoroughly enjoyed a few days of not having to worry about what time it was.

We did take on some physical activities to help burn off these meals. Flip, the black lab needed walking in the evenings, and Friday Tim and I accompanied Benjamin on a section of the Appalachian Trail that includes the Chimney Rocks. I have to say I'm glad we are still able keep up with a 16-year old, and on a moderately difficult trail with a 900-foot elevation change. We hiked for more than 3 hours, so I felt quite deserving of the turkey noodle soup, turkey sammich and 4 or 5 of mom Reinert's 'Kris Kringle' bars when we got back to the house.

We believe that reality is setting in for dad. That is, he finally is facing the fact that he could not make that 8-9 hour drive any more. Two years ago on an almost identical trip, he belligerently insisted he could have done it. We didn't hear any of that this time. We heard 'I'm lost,' from the back seat, and mom's stage whisper 'Be glad you're not the one behind the wheel!'. We've been disturbed for years how turned around, confused and unobservant he is when he's anywhere outside his own property. Well, time has not improved any of these things. Even with explicitly described landmarks (written down by mom), they still cannot find our house in daylight without driving past the subdivision, sometimes three times. Mom either is so tired or follows what I suspect is a safely nonconfrontational pattern of saying nothing that she is little or no help. Both mom and dad thanked us several times for taking them there, praised our driving, and went wherever we guided them.

I really worry about the two of them, though. One without the other would not be a good thing. They both look vulnerable and fragile. They cling almost fearfully to each other when walking anywhere, and have trouble with basic things like ordering in a restaurant. At least dad is finally getting a long-needed hearing aid, which will help some of that. But they have trouble following conversations, and I notice dad does not really participate, even with people his own age. A racist comment at the table one night made me wonder what sort of deep-seated beliefs about the larger world he really has. For as much domestic and international travel as the two of them have done over the years, they are shockingly unsophisticated and unworldly.

And I overheard him say that a doctor warned him about his sugar intake 30 years ago already. Here I'd thought his borderline diabetes was only since about 2000. You'd never know he had an issue with sugar by watching him. He drinks homemade grape juice, full-sugar pop, takes larger and more helpings of the sugariest dishes than anyone else, and scrapes his bowl/plate clean with enough vigor to leave scratch marks. Makes me wonder what the long term effects of a frequently spiking/high sugar are, especially on the neurological side of things. I guess if he's made it to the age of 84 in as good health as he has, there must be some mitigating factors.

It also occurred to me that the fast-moving world today is very unkind to people like these. How many things do we automatically do today that involve a computer, smartphone, or searching online for something, or sharing images or information in some capacity on the internet? Mom and dad asked several times how we knew about finding a good burger at Heck's Cafe in Cleveland, and could not quite grasp the idea of the GPS stuck to the windshield making it so easy for us to navigate our way everywhere. Or the EZ-Pass toll transponder that charges the tolls to our credit card. We had to explain to dad why we didn't need to pick up a paper ticket for the turnpike a couple times. Somehow it's possible to be a complete technophobe these days, but it seems like a more and more difficult proposition. On the other hand, if there were some catastrophic crash of everything electronic, would people like mom and dad be the ones we'd need to lean on?

These people are not long for this world, and we should probably be making as many holiday road trips to Pennsylvania with them as possible.

North Carolina 11/11 Trip

2011-11-09T09:51:00.026-05:00

The Big Out of State Weekend has come and gone. Nothing between here and the holidays now. Pressure's on to think of treats that will travel well to Pennsylvania for Thanksgiving, items that will delight teenagers and adults, yet not send my father-in-law's blood sugar skyrocketing into orbit (unless he eats 4 or 5 helpings). Pressure's on to think up and obtain Christmas gifts. And I can't seem to find paperwhite bulbs (cheap, anyway) to start forcing indoors. And the pressure is on to use this fine, warm weather to go out foraging for stuff to fill the windowboxes until spring. Can't possibly opt out of that and leave them bare.

I survived a total of 24 hours on the road alone with my mom. Yes. I did. The bizarre thing was that every time she would have had us going the complete opposite direction we were supposed to go, that's when I was sure what to do. Every time I wasn't sure, she was. So navigation-wise, it all worked out. And there were the mostly tolerable annoyances: the fretfulness whenever the gas tank got down to half full. The 'Tova'(oldladystinkylavenderIdespiseit) perfume. Her leaning way over toward my side of the vehicle to peer/squint at the GPS screen and repeatedly exclaiming how 'cool' it was that it knew just where we were, and was telling us where to go; alternating with her complaints that the screen wasn't big enough and that she couldn't read it. The predominance of sleep-inducing classical music, which I knew was the best middle ground for our road-trip listening pleasure. What would have been far worse would be the possibility of her trying to pretend to like my sort of highway driving music (Metallica, P.O.D., Shinedown, Disturbed, Alice In Chains, Iron Maiden, Motley Crue, Nickelback, Creed, or Rush). I could all too easily imagine her nodding along and saying 'I like the beat!', and that would have had me telescoping downward in my seat like an embarassed teenager for sure.

And we had to revisit the whole ELCA/Missouri Synod Lutheran thing. Discussing Sunday's plans, she stated she refused to attend her friends' (Vera and Bob) church (ELCA). They believe non-biblical things, she informed me in a very lofty, sanctimonious tone. I suspected she wanted me to ask 'why, pray tell, what nonbiblical things to they believe?' so she could lambaste them for ordaining gays. I didn't take the bait, and I don't feel I have the chutzpah to have an intelligent religious debate (wait, is there such a thing?) with anyone. But here's a pretty good in-a-nutshell discussion on the topic.

Other than these things, it was all a pleasant weekend. Best baby shower I've ever attended. No silly games involving melted candy bars smeared in diapers. We constructively and creatively personalized onesies with fabric paints and markers. The gifts appear to have gone over well, including the unique color scheme afghan I was suddenly compelled to make in the middle of September.

The weather couldn't have been better: sunny, warm and brilliant fall foliage. I had an entire motel room to myself for 4 nights (I mean really, when else am I going to get to nibble leftover hush puppies in bed curled up with a big-ass novel?). I slept. I drank brown liquor and ate Carolina barbecue, fried oysters, shrimp and grits, and my brothers' cooking. I tried a new Mexican restaurant. I took a chance, knocked on a door and met a philosophy professor turned chocolate maker. We walked away with a box of his salted caramel chocolate truffles.

Another One For My List

2011-11-02T08:18:00.008-04:00

...Of a few members of a certain medical discipline whom I would not want near, let alone treating me, my family, or anyone I know.

Is it accurate to say everyone's got a certain gross-out threshold? One person's 'ick' might not be another person's. Some things, however, cross the line in most developed settings these days. I have been a Med Tech long enough to remember the ancient times of mouth-pipetting, and working all shift handling blood (or whatever) specimens without wearing a single glove. Gloves? I don't even think we had them in the lab. Those were reserved for handling straight hydrochloric acid and dangerous stuff like that. I've heard one of the old pre-merge campuses once had a pop-corn popper at home right on the lab bench. Smoking and eating were commonplace throughout the entire work area.

Times have changed. Oh, how they've changed.

The culture has changed so much, and the no food/drink/cosmetics in the lab dogma has been drilled into our heads so completely that for the most part this SIMPLY ISN'T DONE. Because it's potential danger to oneself. You know, those things called biohazards? Cross contamination? Hospital-acquired infections? Because every overseeing, regulatory entity that has anything to do with running a laboratory says so repeatedly. Because it's just plain gross.

So when the nurse who walked into the ED lab carrying the catheter-collected urine specimen and her cup of coffee in the SAME HAND, and then noticeably struggled to drop off the urine sample and not the coffee into our incoming specimen bucket, my ick reflex automatically went off. Couldn't help it. I said 'Oh, urine and coffee, yummy.'

She must have thought about that after she left, because 5 minutes later she came back. 'I know you must not have meant anything by that comment,' she says to me.

'What comment?' My occupied mind was roughly a light-year away by this point.

'The comment about the urine and the coffee.'

Ummm, well actually I did mean it. I generally mean most everything I say. But I didn't say that. At this point she proceeded to launch into a lengthy reaming. You see, she says she feels icky all of a sudden at 11pm. I wanted to ask what was the magic pumpkin thing about 11pm, but sensed I'd better not. What she intended to convey, in a fakey-sweet tone, was that when third shift personnel arrived, all of a sudden she was treated rudely. Guess we'll have to ask second shift what they do differently to make her feel so much better. But what I thought at the time was that any ickiness she felt she must have brought from home, and certainly did not originate from our little corner of the world. Didn't say that either. I was occupied with nodding and listening and refusing to engage in the fight she was so determined to bring on. And trying not to be distracted by her gray (yes, gray, I'm telling you) teeth and horrible fake blonde hair color job. She went on to proudly tell me she was a farm girl, and I had no idea what she was used to having crawl all over her. She told me she wanted to enjoy her job, and not have be confronted by this issue with various supervisors, and that my saying what she had done was icky was simply my opinion, and on and on...

When my trip back to school was all said and done, and the door shut behind her, and my esteemed coworker flipped her the bird behind her back, we had a good laugh about the whole thing. Some of my coworkers have had very negative encounters with this nurse before, and it came out that some of her own coworkers can't even stand her. So it probably would have done no good whatsoever to point out to her that it's established policy (and not opinion) to avoid combining consumables and lab specimens in the workplace, and that pee and java in the same hand would be a good example of a bad thing. Or to suggest that if she wanted to go all farm girl and roll in manure or make mud pies at home, by all means, that was completely her choice. Or ask her if she informs her patients what she's had crawling all over her before she comes to work and puts her hands on them. Or say that life on her particular farm has clearly set dentistry back by about two hundred years. Nope. All exercises in futility. I said a few prayers for her patients, and enjoyed the hysteria-tainted laughs with my comrades.

Transitions

2011-10-14T08:47:00.012-04:00

The seasons, they are a-changin'.

This week saw the farewell of the pop-up camper and the kayaks. Tim came up with the brilliantly simple idea of just strapping the kayaks into their racks on top of the pop-up and storing them that way. As gorgeous as last weekend was, and as lovely as a kayak outing would have been with such warm temps and colorful leaves, unfortunately I had to work. Leaving no time for such outings. So we said buh-bye to another camping season. It passed all too quickly. Every year we think we are going to get in an autumn camping trip. And every year we don't quite manage it. The weather in Michigan is just an unbelievable roulette wheel this time of year. We could have as easily had snow as the 70's and even 80 degree temps and sunny days we've enjoyed (with grateful disbelief) the last 2 weeks. So if we'd planned a camping trip, what would the odds be of having weather this nice?

I guess I never posted anything about Ludington State Park, our post-Labor Day camping trip. We see why people had such good things to say about it. I thought often of Mary Ann and Dennis, who said they liked this park so much. We discovered it for the first time ourselves this year. It's got everything we would have loved as kids: lots of water shallow enough to wade in. Mud to play in. Snail and clam shells. Boardwalks and bridges over the water. Trees perfect for climbing, including white pines tumbled in some long-ago storm, and actually growing horizontally over the water. Sand dunes. Miles of hiking trails to get lost on. As adults, we enjoyed all these things (with the single exception of the mud)along with the proximity to Lake Michigan. The convenience of nearby Ludington (should we happen to need anything from Meijer's or Wally-mart).

View behind our site (#316...a good one to shoot for on future visits). You can barely see the boardwalk back there.

Shallow water in Lake Michigan from the breakwater

Great Blue Heron/Lake Hamlin from our kayaks

This week also saw the departure of the hummingbirds. We had a female hanging around until October 8th, which beat the latest day I've seen them here by a week. When I hadn't seen her in a couple days, I finally took the feeders down and washed them. I haven't put them in the basement for storage yet. I hosed all the crap out of the regular birdfeeders, and they await being filled with seed for the other birds who insanely hang around here all winter.

It's getting a little chilly in the mornings when we wal out of work. A coworker and I were discussing our sheepswool steering wheel covers we purchased at the Frankenmuth Woolen Mill. She's already put hers on. Me, I just can't. Not yet. We haven't even had any frost yet, which is unbelievable. It got into the 30's at night while Bryan was here, but it didn't freeze. We covered the basil and flowers up with sheets and tarps, but they probably would have been fine. So now I have red petunias and geraniums spilling out of my windowboxes and baskets, while most of the leaves are off the trees, I have summer flowers that are actually making a comeback. It's a weird look, but hey: my ancestors would be proud. I'm getting the most 'flower value' out of these plants I bought back in early June.

Sunday Dinner

2011-10-03T12:03:00.008-04:00

Chicken, shrimp, mushroom and andouille sausage paella; mahon and manchego cheeses; prune chutney with fresh veggie crudites; marcona almonds; bittersweet chocolate souffles and warm mocha tart; a 2009 Garnacha de Fuego, and a 2004 Anciano Tempranillo.

We went a bit unorthodox with the paella by using a spicy andouille sausage (but it was damn good). That pan is 17-18 inches in diameter...I don't know why it looks so puny in the pics, because it's not. And the propane burner was just a bit too hot in the center. We need to do this again only with a nice bed of charcoal. Just as soon as we finish up with the 30 or so servings we have left from our first attempt...

Nostalgia

2011-09-20T10:03:00.003-04:00

It seems I get very nostalgic this time of year. Yes, I want the crisp in-season apples and good sleeping weather, but I'm more and more reluctant to say goodbye to summer every year. Maybe it's visiting the Lake Michigan shoreline (which we did two weeks ago) that enhances the feeling. There, it seems like it should be summer all the time. The wide sandy beaches, the lakefront cottages and the lighthouses don't look quite right other times of the year. The fruit orchards, blueberry fields and red geraniums just ought to be there ALL the time. And it seems like a very nostalgic area. A sort of 'Somewhere In Time' feel to it. Like people have been taking civilized, productive summer vacations there for a hundred years or more. I suppose I'd better stop before I start sounding like a 'Pure Michigan' commercial.

Playing tourist in Frankenmuth the Saturday before Labor Day was wrought with plenty of nostalgia. The entire immediate Reinert clan half filled Tiny's Room at Bavarian Inn for a large family-style (plus three German Meats!) dinner that evening. It was sunny and balmy. The flowers, plants and hanging baskets were all more beautiful than ever (I'm starting to think some kind of dark sorcery is involved in that). Out-of-towners were strolling around everywhere in bra strap-baring camis, shorts and sandals, full of chicken and festooned with shopping bags. I remember Frankenmuth before it was a tourist town. Or at least when it was just becoming a serious one. I thought of all the summer mini-vacations we spent at Grandma and Grandpa Zucker's, and all the hours we spent riding our bikes up and down every single street and country road around that town. It would have been a perfect evening to eat a bowl of ice cream out on the back porch and look at the American flag on top of the Star of the West grain elevator.

But it's not the grandparents' house any more. Now that it doesn't belong to anyone in the family, I truly feel like a tourist in that town. Doesn't matter that cousin J squatted there for the last few years and we hardly visited the property anyway. It's not a landing spot in town for us any more. And still, even today, I think the final sale price *could* have been within our financial means. We could have kept it. We could own a piece of Frankenmuth. Then I think...what the hell for? We'd be spending some colossal bucks to gut/repair/de-stink/beautify the place. And then for what? Not a likely 'up north' cottage at all. Still...

I really didn't want to drive by it or see it at all. Not that day. We all took a stroll up and down main drag downtown to try and settle dinner, marveling at the late summer temperature spike into the low 90's. Summer apparently didn't want to say goodbye either.

The gentle prodding of mom and dad from the four Reinert brothers for funeral/end of life thoughts and ideas added an additional dark layer of contemplation over the whole weekend. No, it wasn't anything morbid--for a couple of years now we've been as kindly as possibly asking for what they want. So we have SOME kind of clue as to how to effectively deal with the events that we are going to be facing soon. We divided into the kitchen table group having these discussions, while a second team kept the younger family members occupied and out of the conversation. Me, I fell asleep in a chair after about an hour of this heaviness.

Because a Reinert get-together or reunion just isn't complete without multiple desserts, I made two to share. And reminded people of it as they were loading up with multiple slices of cakes and pies at Krysiak's buffet Sunday afternoon. As if that reduced the consumption of my offerings by any. I should know my clan better after all this time.

I haven't made this in about 20 years. I'm not sure why I thought of it and dug it out of my archives again. It just seemed the thing to make ahead and have on hand for the family-centric Labor Day weekend. As I looked it over, I realized why I hadn't made it 20 years: it's got 2 sticks of butter in it. This is from the days before I lost 40+ pounds. I got it from our Medical Technology education coordinator at St. Joseph Hospital in Flint. When our class of 5 graduated after surviving a year-long internship, she and her husband, the then senior Chemistry tech, invited us to their house in Grand Blanc for a celebratory dinner. After stromboli, she served this for dessert. It's like an ice cream cone or 'drumstick' in a pan.

Ice Cream Dessert

2 cups Rice Chex crushed (measure after crushing)
1 cup coconut (I toasted it first)
2/3 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup chopped nuts (any would be good, but I like dry-roasted peanuts)
1/2 cup (1 stick) melted butter

Mix and reserve 2/3 cup for topping. Pat into buttered 9 X 13 inch pan.

Mix the following, bring to a boil; cool:

1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
3 square (one ounce each) unsweetened chocolate
3 beaten eggs
2 cups powdered sugar

Pour over crust.

(refrigerate for a bit to firm up the fudgy goo before the next step)

Spoon 1/2 gallon vanilla ice cream (softened) over this. Top with reserved crumbs. Freeze overnight. Can make ahead; keeps well.

Take out 30-45 minutes ahead before wanting to serve.

And this one was being discussed on Facebook in a 'If You Grew Up In Frankenmuth, You Remember...' Tim fondly remembers these from the St. Lorenz gradeschool cafeteria, along with his other fellow students. I had no memory of anything like this whatsoever, but I did some cross referencing on-line, and searched through my Grandma/church-lady cookbooks. I thought this is so ridiculously simple, I have to try it.

Peanut Butter Logs

Equal parts:

peanut butter
honey
dried milk

(One cup each fills an 8 X 8 inch pan perfectly)

Crush cornflakes and press into the bottom of pan. Spread mixture on top of cornflakes. Top/press with more crushed cornflakes. Refrigerate until firm. Cut into desired-size pieces.

It's like peanut butter fudge. You just know it's insanely caloric when you bite into it. The perfect thing to fuel the bottomless energy sinks that were gradeschool kids back in our day. Then the whole time I'm savoring the odd but somehow harmonious play of weird dry milk flavor off the floral honey, salty peanut butter and corn crunch, (these mellow and improve with aging) I'm imagining ways to corrupt it by dunking balls of it in dark chocolate, or adding bacon.

Monday Morning

2011-09-19T09:10:00.008-04:00

It's the usual post-weekend morning here, only taking place a little later. I wish I hadn't waited until AFTER 7 (!!!) to get out of bed. This morning's plans included cleaning (or starting on it anyway) the pantry. The little moths are driving us nuts, and I thought I'd gotten rid of the infested items, but it's really due for a serious purge. That was, of course, assuming I was going to have the energy/ambition for that. It must be the weather...very Septemberish, gray, rainy and cool. The chokecherry leaves are really starting to turn yellow, and days are speedily getting shorter.

But the weekend was gorgeous. Not too warm, but warm enough to be outside without a jacket. We took our 4.5 mile walk both Saturday and Sunday. After driving up to church for our obligatory photo directory session (I was prepared to do battle refusing sales pitches to buy pics, but thankfully we got none), we picked up some Stanley plums, baby white and purple striped eggplant, acorn squash, leeks, and Red Zeppelin (ha!) onions at the Hartland Farmers' market. Saturday night dinner was grilled salmon and the veggies done in the grill basket along with a few potatoes. I baked the acorn squash most of the way in the microwave and then finished it on the grill, and drizzled on a sauce of grainy brown mustard, maple syrup and some of that always-surprising, fabulous Schubeck's Sexgewurz blend Ellen sent us.

We finished the leftovers of Tim's birthday peach-blueberry pie I'd frozen 2 weeks ago for dessert.

Sunday after church we braved the crowds at Spicer's and picked up some Honeycrisp and Molly apples. Then at home, split a grilled sharp cheddar and Swiss cheese sandwich with thinly sliced apple and toasted walnuts. Split the sandwich, because we were saving room for dinner that night. Tim decided he wanted to try Toasted Oak for his birthday dinner. A lot closer than Detroit, and we really enjoyed it. They get into charcuterie, and we were able to have mussels and frites like we would have had at Cadieux Cafe (we will get there eventually). We had the most fun with the duck confit pizza. Not on the menu, something the staff came up with as a result of a windfall of quail eggs from someone's farm in Belleville. The server seemed pretty geeked about it, so we tried it. It gave me another idea for pizzas without tomato sauce, because the thin, tender grilled crust was 'sauced' with Michigan cherry vinaigrette. Then it was topped with duck confit, goat cheese, pine nuts, peeled cherry tomatoes, microgreens and poached quail eggs. A lot going on, but it was really good. I wish I had remembered to take a pic (there was a can light spotlighted right on it, too), but we went ahead and devoured it.

In other news, I took up a craft project I haven't touched in a while (like 20 years). I'm either going to go blind (bifocal eyes don't handle stuff like this quite as well as before) or get carpal tunnel as a result of it. I'm alternately optimistic or gloomy about how it's going to turn out. Or if my time frame is reasonable to get it done. So...I'll put off saying more about it until later.

Happy Labor Day Weekend

2011-09-03T05:29:00.014-04:00

It was definitely not my intent to take the summer off from Blogger/Livejournal, but it looks like that's basically what I did. Blame Facebook. Blame laziness. Blame extra hours at all different shifts at work for computer training lately. Blame needing every minute between the time I hit the door from work until the time I fell into bed a lot of mornings to prepare stuff for an out-of-town trip at various points all summer.

Here it is September, and the Timmeh's birthday is nigh. I'm more or less off the hook for buying a 'thing' as a gift, which is really a relief. More and more I am completely stumped as to what 'things' to buy for people's birthdays or Christmas. I did bake him a peach-blueberry pie yesterday, one of his favorites. What he'd like to do is visit Western Market in Cleveland, as featured on a recent Anthony Bourdain's 'No Reservations'. And have dinner at Cadieux Cafe one night, a place we've been trying to visit for years. Hopefully these things can be arranged before the snow flies. These are the kinds of presents I love giving, obviously.

For now it is 0530, the coffee pot is gurgling, I'm enjoying the black, insect noise-filled predawn of a late summer morning, and the final stages of housecleaning are commencing. A few weeks ago, Arizona brother-in-law Tom and Pennsylvania brother-in-law John decided to seize a narrow window of opportunity and come to Michigan for a family visit. John and family are staying with us, and should be here by mid-afternoon. At which point everyone will then drive up to Frankenmuth to Bavarian Inn for chicken dinner. Which means no one (that is, Mom Reinert) has to cook a big meal. Prepare for overnight guests, yes, but no huge cooking extravaganza. And tomorrow possibly another dinner out at Krzysiak's in Bay City. Where if one is smart, one can load up on pierogis, potato pancakes, and stuffed cabbage, and ignore the mediocre, dumped-out-of-a-can and deep-fried buffet.

I do have a Sunday morning spread planned, to tide us over. I got an idea from a Martha Stewart mag for baked eggs with pesto and farmers' market tomatoes. I've been a pesto makin' fool of late...better to do it now while the basil is so gorgeous, than my usual waiting until the day before it's supposed to frost. Sweet potato muffins with streusel topping morphed from wanting to make pumpkin bars with cream cheese frosting. Hopefully the teens will like them as much as the bars, and possibly they'll be slightly healthier. Some grilled ham steaks to go with our green eggs. Some broiled local peaches. And of course juice and coffee. I need to see which of our Larry's Beans is a little smoother and milder than our usual French roast blends. We've alarmed John before with our hit-upside-the-head, put-hair-on-your-chest pots of coffee. He needs something a little more genteel. Non-shift workers...gotta handle 'em with care.

And this entire weekend came together with a pleasant, significant absence: not one single (out of the usual two dozen) vague, micromanaging e-mail from the Royal Oak MI brother-in-law that contain no information to move the planning process forward, that contain a minimum of three more questions, and at least one statement beginning with the words 'I am not certain...'. None. Nada. Zilch. Why is this? We don't know, but we are thanking God for small blessings. We suspect it may have to do with him passing the critical mass of backed-up accounting work; a lingering lower back problem; or just maybe finally getting smart.

Time to attack the cobwebs in the Moosewood Lodge...

Keweenaw Peninsula Camping Trip

2011-08-13T07:51:00.043-04:00

I think rather than do the somewhat boring day-by-day account (which is now fading from recall anyway), I will do a least favorite memory collection, and a favorite memory collection. And try to select the most representative pics from our McLain State Park trip the week of July 17th.

Let's start with the least favorite:

---The heat while setting up camp. Sweat running down our backs within minutes of getting out of the truck. Yes, it can get into the upper 80's and 90's in the Upper Peninsula.

---The family/troupe of two mothers and 8 or 9 (I honestly lost count when we were passing their campsite in the truck various times during the week)children who casually traipsed through our site WHILE WE WERE SETTING UP. Tim: 'Can you please not walk through our site?' 'But there's no good path to the beach,' whined the stroller-pushing woman. Sorry honey, this road is now closed. And yes, there was a perfectly good cut-through trail only one site to the east. As well as others located throughout the campground. I took to calling them the Viking Horde, because each and every one of the kids was some shade of honey to white blonde. We recalled nephew Evan's 'I've never seen so many blonde kids in one place before!' comment of 5 years before, on our last camping trip to McLain State Park. When you're this close to Minnesota and Wisconsin (and all those Scandinavian settlers' descendants), it's only natural. Every day they'd arrive shortly after noon to use the trail down to the beach to swim. Then they'd go back to their own site, presumably for dinner. Then in the early evening, the little bikes would pile up by the side of the road again, and they'd all swim/scream/sunbathe again until it was time to call it a night. Which means if we hadn't asked them to not walk through an occupied campsite (duh??!), we'd have had them through at least 4 times a day. Next time we reserve at this campground, it will definitely be at the far end of the campground where shortcutters aren't a problem.

---The stench of pit toilets, and the loooong walk to the plumbed facilities.

---The incessant 'anklebiters'. Not the kids, the flies that are not the least bit deterred by insect repellants. Quick-dry nylon pants were the surest way to keep them off my legs. Hot and sweaty, but effective.

---Watching our water gush from the side of the camper all over the pavement after forgetting, as we seem to do each year, that the hot water heater valve is still in its winterized open position the first time we run the hot water.

---The sleep deprivation after a night of wind blowing straight off Lake Superior and flapping every piece of canvas and rattling every metal grommet on the camper. Camping near this lake is an experience in extremes. It's not like a gentle zephyr that gradually builds. No, it's like someone flips a switch on an industrial wind machine and lets it go full blast for about 12 hours or so.

---Finding only green, hard thimbleberries on the Peninsula. Which was not a really big surprise. Everything in Michigan is a week or two behind because of the persistent winter and cold spring. So my canning supplies sat in the camper, taking up space all week. I had thought it would be so great to pick enough thimbleberries to make jam right at the campsite, and then share it with everyone. We found maybe 5 all week that were edible. When ripe, they're a raspberry red. And the taste is a floral strawberry-rhubarb.

---People (including one of the Viking Horde mothers) standing in the road in front of our site to use their cell phones. Several times a day. Apparently this was this was not only the most convenient route to the beach, it was also the one place where the spotty phone service could be captured to make those all-important calls while on vacation. Tim could get intermittent service at the campsite, I could get nothing unless we went to Calumet to the north, or Houghton-Hancock to the south. We were using it for checking the weather radars, mostly. Maybe a tiny bit of Facebooking.

Enough of the bad. The good:

---Knowing that when you wake up, the most intense work you will have to do ALL day is meal prep or some hiking or kayaking.

---Happy Hour beginning whenever. Even before noon.

---The thunderstorms. I love them at home, but on the shores of Lake Superior, they are entirely different animals. For one thing, you can see them when they're unbelievably far away. You can see the entire structure. And the thunder is deeper and more bellowing. Wednesday morning we were nudged out of sleep at 0330 by distant rumbling. We put on some clothes and walked down the road along the bluff and sat on an Andirondack chair for two, observing lightning made coppery-pink by the distance. We later checked the radar on Tim's phone, and they were probably 40 miles away over the water. It took them another 4 hours or so to arrive. Then they dumped rain for several hours. Oh, damn. Too bad. Confined inside the camper all morning with a big-ass novel (the first in the 'Game of Thrones' series). Then that evening, another one rolled in while we were walking to the bathroom building to take showers. We watched the wall/shelf cloud blowing toward us from the lake, thinking holy crap, we're about to get pummeled. We could hear the wind roaring through the trees from in the showers. We found our screen tent half torn down when we returned to our site.

---The bald eagle that decided to rest in the top of a tall white pine on the neighboring campsite for nearly 2 hours Wednesday morning. Fellow campers were looking up at some unknown point in the sky, and the woman next campsite over showed me what they were all fixated on. We zoomed in with our cameras to try to capture pics of it against the storm-roiled sky. Later when it was preening itself, a feather fell free and spiraled to the ground, like the opening and ending scenes of 'Forrest Gump'. Tim retrieved it from the grassy brush. I took it to be a good omen for the upcoming bro-to-bro kidney transplant surgery, a talisman from the Almighty. Only later did we learn we are technically not supposed to be in posession of such at item. Only Native Americans can use feathers and parts from these birds, and even then with a permit from the government. I was foolishly nervous for about a day, and then I came to this conclusion: after the way our government has performed for the last few years (especially the last few months: SERIOUSLY. I mean, really? They would presume to regulate something this trivial? They can soundly and thoroughly kiss our hardworking, taxpaying conservative asses.

---Kayaking. In our OWN kayaks. No more renting, thanks to an early summer clearance sale at Costco. So Tim had to drive to Toledo to get them, but gas is cheaper the instant you drive out of the Mitten, and the floor sample was marked down another 30 bucks, so it worked itself out.

---Did I mention kayaking? On Lake Superior? And in the boat channel that divides Houghton and Hancock, under the lift bridge? What a pure delight it is to use those upper body muscles (and abdominals, too) to power oneself across the water. And do it faster than dear hubby, I might add. Or just sit still on the water, feeling the rocking waves.

---The baked delights at the Jampot run by the Society of St. John in Eagle River. Those talented monks are turning out the same decadent muffins, cupcakes, bars, jams, etc. they were the last time we visited in 2006. The chocolate cupcake with mocha frosting was the same coffee-laced creamy, cakey explosion of goodness. The peanut butter bar was the same dense, butter-moist ('Cow oil', said the bearded elderly brother with a smile) peanut buttery rectangle, studded with milk chocolate chips and striped with a thick band of raspberry jam across the top. On the second visit of the week, I complimented the thickness of the frosting on the cupcakes and how it so neatly came free of the plastic wrap (a great thing for bake sales, in my opinion). While watching the same elder monk use an ICE CREAM DISHER to place huge mounds of the stuff on top of cupcakes. He and the brother ringing us up on the cash register agreed that the cream cheese frostings were a bit stickier, but yes, they made their frostings quite thick.

---The food we made at the campsite. I'm not sure if most other campers devote the amount of time and energy we do toward our daily meals. But they probably don't eat as well, either. Our favorite new camping food is breakfast pizza. It starts with homemade whole wheat pizza dough, portioned out for a 14-inch pizza and frozen ahead of time. It thaws in the cooler and is ready whenever. I spread it out onto a perforated Cuisinart pizza pan (a piece of parchment helps keep it from squeezing through the holes, and aids in flipping). Let it rise a little. Grill it until it becomes solid, then flip. Spread with full-fat cream cheese (only 1/2 to 2/3 of the package, though---too much, and the pizza is actually too rich. But the light stuff gets curdly). Then top with 6 to 8 scrambled eggs, green onions, dried tomatoes, bits of whatever meat you have on hand, multiple cheeses, and whatever else you like. Put the cover on the grill until the cheese gets all melty and oozy. Pour some more coffee, slice, and start your day off right.

---Shopping. Just wandering aimlessly through northwoodsy tourist trap/T-shirt shops. Finding a few treasures amid all the junk. Not looking at what time it is, worrying about how I ought to be getting to bed, and not thinking about how few hours of sleep I'm going to get if I don't hurry up.

---Attracting hummingbirds to our campsite. For years we've decorated our camper awning with a couple strings of kitschy (but cute) red plastic camp-lantern lights. They contain lightbulbs that look like a flickering gaslight at night. However, during the day, they fool the hummingbirds. Apparently many years of humans hanging up contraptions filled with sugar water have conditioned them as a species to investigate anything red, plastic and dangling. After many camping trips watching them buzz from one light to the next and getting frustrated at finding nothing to drink, I finally got the idea to buy a cheap feeder and pack some frozen sugar syrup in the cooler. We hung up a filled feeder in a maple tree. They found it the first day and visited regularly all week.

---The hikes we took. Hunters Point near Copper Harbor, Estivant Pines, and especially to the top of Lookout Mountain/Mt. Baldy. A long but gentle climb brings you to a rocky bluff overlooking a great portion of the tip of the Keweenaw Peninsula. Copper Harbor, miles of forest and the vast blue of Lake Superior and even a few freighters spread out at your feet. We picked wild blueberries, saddened that we hadn't thought to bring some kind of container other than our mouths.

Lemon Crumble Coffee Cake, Etc.

2011-06-28T09:01:00.023-04:00

I made this for Monday's breakfast while mom was here. Sunday evening was an extravaganza of hoofed meats at Roast (veal sweetbreads, roasted marrow {slightly blubbery, off-putting texture but tasty}, hanger steak, pork chop, rosemary frites and a Malbec).

I hadn't really baked her a birthday cake (I usually never make a cake anyway---usually a tart, or cherry cobbler, or this year Mexican chocolate icebox cookies and lemon rosemary shortbreads), but this seemed like a good thing to have with our gravlax and garnishes. It's adapted from a Taste of Home recipe I've been making for years for bake sales and winter holiday family brunches. Substituting lemon curd for the cranberry sauce struck me as a halfway decent idea. The result is a tender, moist cake with a thick ribbon of tangy lemon through the center.

Ingredients

Cake:

1/4 cup chopped almonds
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 eggs
2 cups all-purpose flour
1-1/4 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup (8 ounces) sour cream
a teaspoon or so of lemon zest

1 1/2 to 2 cups lemon curd

Topping:

1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup chopped almonds
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons cold butter

Lemon Curd (from The Joy Of Baking):

3 large eggs
3/4 cup (150 grams) granulated white sugar
1/3 cup (80 ml) fresh lemon juice (2-3 lemons) (do not use the bottled lemon juice)
4 tablespoons (56 grams) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 tablespoon (4 grams) finely shredded lemon zest

In a stainless steel bowl placed over a saucepan of simmering water, whisk together the eggs, sugar, and lemon juice until blended. Cook, stirring constantly (to prevent it from curdling), until the mixture becomes thick (like sour cream or a hollandaise sauce) (160 degrees F or 71 degrees C). This will take approximately 10 minutes. Remove from heat and immediately pour through a fine strainer to remove any lumps. Cut the butter into small pieces and whisk into the mixture until the butter has melted. Add the lemon zest and let cool. The lemon curd will continue to thicken as it cools. Cover immediately (so a skin doesn't form) and refrigerate for up to a week.

Makes 1 1/2 cups (360 ml).

Note: Room temperature lemons provide more juice. After squeezing, strain the juice to remove any pulp. Zest is the yellow, sweet-flavored outer rind of the lemon. A zester or fine grater can be used to remove the rind. Cold lemons are much easier to grate. Grate lemons just before using as the zest will lose moisture if it sits too long.

Directions

Sprinkle almonds over the bottom of a greased 9-in. springform pan; set aside. In a bowl, cream the sugar, butter, lemon zest and vanilla; beat on medium for 1-2 minutes. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition.

Combine dry ingredients; add to batter alternately with sour cream. Mix well. Spread 3 cups over almonds. Spoon lemon curd over batter. Top with remaining batter (spread with butter knife to smooth over).

For topping, combine flour, sugar, almonds and vanilla; cut in butter until crumbly. Sprinkle over batter.

Bake at 350° for 70-75 minutes or until a toothpick inserted near the center comes out clean. Cool in pan on a wire rack for 15 minutes; remove sides of pan. Serve warm.

Notes:

I had enough lemons and eggs to triple the lemon curd recipe, and that was enough to generously fill two coffee cakes, plus have a little left over. (The second coffee cake went to work for a meet 'n' greet with the new lab director. Can't hurt to walk in with baked goodness for the new guy, now can it?)

I lightly toasted the almonds before chopping them.

A cake tester is pretty much useless because the lemon curd looks a bit like batter. I pulled them after 75 minutes.

I sprinkled a little more lemon zest on top of the cakes after they had cooled.

I used a cheap springform pan (Grandma Zucker's), and noticed a bit of corrosion on the interior of the pan afterwards from the acidic filling. Use a good pan, or line it with parchment paper.

Musakhan v. 2.0

2011-06-23T08:05:00.010-04:00

Oddly I have been completely uninspired in the what-to-make-for-dinner department lately. When things are good, I have about three things lined up that I want to make. But a sale on bone-in, skin-on chicken breasts reminded me I had not made this in a while. Middle Eastern/Lebanese/Palestinian food is on our crave radar pretty much any time.

In an older post, I used boneless, skinless breasts and cooked them on the stove top. But this is way better: brine the breasts first in a large stockpot for 12 hours. I used 10 in all. Yes, 10. And they were enormous. I wanted leftover meat for...whatever. Mix up a paste of sumac, za'atar, coriander, cinnamon, cardamom, nutmeg, black pepper, lemon zest and olive oil. Dry the meat, smear on the paste and have husband grill them in a raging thunderstorm for extra flavor. Chill the breasts, and shred the meat off 6 of them. Take the bones and make a quick (by quick, I mean about 45 minutes as opposed to 3 hours) stock by simmering them in a little chicken broth and water in a saucepan.

Mix the shredded chicken with sumac, cinnamon, nutmeg, a little coriander and cardamon, black pepper and lemon zest. Salt is optional, since the meat was brined. I found the final dish did need a bit more salt after all.

Caramelize a buttload of Vidalia onions. Not quite down to the onion jam stage, but so they have plenty of color.

Start building: take the biggest baking dish you have (I love my giant, red lasagna pan from Cost Plus World Market) and drizzle a couple tablespoons of olive oil in the bottom. Take two packages of thin, whole wheat pita breads and cut them in quarters or 6ths. Lay the pieces in like shingles or fish scales. Top with a layer of onions. Add the shredded, seasoned meat. Squeeze the juice of one or two lemons over the meat. Top with another layer of onions. Finish with a shingled layer of pita bread pieces.

Pour about a cup or so of the hot stock/broth mixture over the whole thing (use the rest to pour over bulgur for an accompanying tabbouleh salad). Drizzle with a little olive oil and top with pine nuts. At this point I refrigerated the dish, to be baked later for dinner. I baked it uncovered for about 30 minutes at 375, then blasted it at 400 for a final 15.

As you can see, moisture was not a problem (recooked chicken can get pretty damn dry). And the top was crispy and crusty, and the pine nuts browned without burning. The bottom layer of pita browned in the oil, just like I wanted. Very satisfying accompanied by blobs of smoky, creamy baba ghannouj (the eggplants used in that were also grilled in the same thunderstorm. For extra flavor.)

Flourless Peanut Butter Cookies

2011-06-11T10:12:00.009-04:00

It's a cool and gray day, so perfect for staying indoors and baking. Which works out conveniently, because I'm making desserts for tomorrow's cookout at Mom's. Yes, that's plural. I have yet to start on the lemon meringue pie (doubling the recipe, putting it in my large, red ceramic roaster pan, and using an acetylene torch to brown the meringue). But since I've been having a major peanut butter craving for over a week, I made these first:

I've heard of this 'magic' peanut butter cookie recipe that only has three or four ingredients (this one uses baking soda), but don't remember if I've made it before. It works! Just let them cool on the pans and solidify before you handle them.

Know what else works? Adding brittle bits of brown sugar-roasted bacon.

The rest of today's plans include possibly exercising, sitting around, maybe renting a PPV movie, sitting around, fic writing, sitting around, maybe helping with spreading the leaf mulch (I already 'helped' by dumping over a surprise coffee can of oil/gas out in the shed while wrestling out the garden cart), sitting around, drinking some more coffee, sitting around, maybe cleaning the raccoon poop off the deck, sitting around...

East Coast Adventures

2011-06-08T08:38:00.034-04:00

It's been a busy week and a half: back to work, sleep schedule all shot to hell from masquerading as a normal person, getting flowers and herbs planted. This is the first day I've had where I haven't had to dig in dirt outside all morning or go somewhere (work, volunteering, shopping). So I'd better write all this stuff down before it's beyond the recall of my middle-aged brain.

Monday

The drive to Silver Springs, MD wasn't bad at all. It didn't seem to be the long, boring drive I thought it would be. It normally takes us about 8 hours to get to John and Diana's in Chambersburg, PA, and our destination was some miles beyond that. A quick lunch of cold vidalia onion pizza was enjoyed in a Pittsburgh area Costco parking lot. The miles seemed to fly by, and before we knew it we were blowing by Breezewood on the turnpike, which is usually the 'almost there' point when we are visiting Tim's brother John and his family. It was a warm day, not as warm as the ones to come, and we saw some pretty spectacular thunderheads in the distance.

I was surprised at how green the Washington DC area is. Noise abatement walls covered in ivy, huge and numerous trees everywhere. There are the usual corporate urban sprawl of cookie cutter stores and office buildings, but the surrounding area was leafier than I thought it would be. Then we ran into post rush hour traffice, so it took a hell of a long time to make it the last 4 miles to the motel. We finally got there, dumped our stuff in the room. Watched some horrendous footage of the wreckage of Joplin, MO on the TV (including Weather Channel meteorologist Mike Bettes almost in tears) while waiting for Tom and Josie to arrive at the motel from a day of sightseeing and visiting the Smithsonian in Washington DC. Then we walked the short distance to Five Guys and devoured burgers and fries.

Tuesday

A lesurely start to the day, and then drove into the town of Silver Springs to catch a train/subway into Washington itself. It seemed to take forever to find a convenient parking garage, and one with available spaces. We bought day passes at the station, and boarded the train. I can now say I've seen graffiti almost as colorful as downtown Berlin. Nothing had rivaled it until now. The people watching was even better than Chicago. Josie and I gaped at a woman with legs about as long as we are tall in a short sleek black skirt and towering high heels disembark from the train and walk up the flights of steps ahead of us to reach street level once we got into town.

It was hot already, but we had loaded our backpack with plenty of water bottles, and bags of high-protein toasted plain almonds and cinnamon 'street fair' almonds I'd made at home. Tim and I have long since gotten better about avoiding the quantities of sugary treats we used to devour on vacations, and the marriage-threatening glucose crashes that result. Cookies seemed to be out of the question anyway when we saw how warm and humid it was going to be all week. Such things wouldn't last until we reached John and Diana's without sprouting mold in every direction. We started our tour with the Lincoln Memorial, then wandered to the Korean and Vietnam walls. To our dismay, we discovered a major renovation is going on with the Reflecting Pool, so that was filled with bare brown dirt and equipment. It seems it's been leaking, and the plans are to pave the edges and use tidal basin water to fill it instead of city water. Should be nice when it's done, but it looks butt-ugly now. Oh well.

The Vietnam wall was cool, but the Korean wall was even more interesting. There's just enough etching in the mirror-like black granite to create ghostly images of faces. The new World War II memorial was quite impressive, too.

Then we walked through a long park to the White House. We admired the lawn through the bars and took the usual tourist pics. We saw Michele Obama's vegetable garden, and beekeepers smoking some beehives. The Obamas weren't even home, they were touring Ireland and the UK.

Washington monument itself was next. It's even more striking than the familiar images on TV. Taking the elevator up to the top is out of the question most days, as tickets need to be purchased far ahead of time, and the number is limited. So we contented ourselve with sitting an smooth granite benches in the circle of flags and taking in all the surrounding Smithsonian and administrative buildings.

We stopped to rehydrate and munch some almonds (and leftover peanuts from Five Guys) on a bench overlooking the tidal basin and Jefferson Monument. I wanted to see that specifically, just because it's round and looks cool from a distance. Plus Thomas Jefferson was a foodie and ahead-of-his time inventor and innovator.

What is the deal with all the ambulances and fire trucks in that area? Is there some kind of accident or crisis going on every hour or so? I've never heard sirens screaming with the frequency of that afternoon. Maybe it was just that particular day. It seemed to be a very loud area.

Then we decided we had time to take the subway over to Arlington National Cemetery. I would have liked to spend a lot more time in there. I've always liked cemeteries, and I don't know why. This one was beautiful, so there was the obvious appeal. Gorgeous, huge trees and green hills. We took a break from the opressive heat and humidity in the Women in Military Service for America Memorial museum, and then hiked around the grounds. We headed up to Arlington House, dodging gangs of gradeschool/high school (I can't tell the difference any more!) class trip groups all the way. It was hotter than hell on the upper floor. A park ranger gave Tom and I some historical information, nearly shouting to be heard above the school kids. Tim and Josie had long since left the house and were out in surrounding garden.

It was getting dark gray and thundery, so we weren't sure if we were going to get rained on (unbelievably we didn't). But we made it to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in time to see one of the changing of the guards. That was a solemn and inspiring sight to seen. Spectators are asked to stand and remain silent. These guys were in full dark blue dress uniforms as hot and humid as it was. And they're there 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. 365 days a year, no matter what the weather is doing. And since it was 1700, we got to see the flag lowering as well. That's just as serious of a ceremony. Park rangers/attendants are on hand to herd us sheep-like tourists out of the path of the sentinels, and harshly rebuke kids from running.

Then we wandered back to find John F. Kennedy's grave and stood admiring the eternal flame and the moss-like rock garden plants growing between each flagstone. By this time we were thinking of ending our day and heading back to our motel. We hiked over more marble and concrete to the most handy subway station. Tom figured we walked at least 8 or 9 miles that day, easily.

I'd never done the class trip thing when I was young. I went to a small gradeschool and high school, and there just plain wasn't the money or apparently the adventurous spirit for that. So Washington DC was a whole new thing to me. Better late than never. Not sure when we will get back there, but future museum tours and a revisit to Arlington would be great.

With the help of a friendly passer-by, we found a group of non-chain restaurants to choose dinner from in downtown Silver Springs. People seemed to be very friendly and helpful in the area, and on the trains. I watched a boy/young man reach down to help pick up a woman's dropped papers. Superficially, he could have easily fit a stereotypical image of an inner-city 'hoodlum'. Another time, a woman stuck her head into a train door and informed us and other passengers that it was going to go in the opposite direction, and if we wanted to keep going the direction we needed to go, we needed to get off the car and switch trains. Sure enough, it did. Later someone driving a taxi was making all kinds of motions and gestures toward us in Tom's rental car. I immediately went into 'Crazy person nearby, nonchalantly look straight ahead' mode. Turns out he was trying to tell us the headlights weren't on.

We devoured lettuce wraps and sweet-spicy-salty dishes and guzzled Yuengling beer at a Thai restaurant. The waitress brought out the special hot condiment tray for Tom and Josie. It was one of those times when I didn't know I was actually insanely hungry and thirsty until food and drink were placed in front of me.

We still had to drive to Baltimore that evening to join up with Jim and mom and dad Reinert (we'd packed up and checked out earlier that morning). Only an hour or so drive, but it took some time to find our downtown motel and get checked in. Baltimore loves its one-way streets.

Wednesday

Today is the whole reason for this trip: Tom's graduation from the Whiting School of Engineering at Johns Hopkins University with his Masters in Mechanical Engineering. He's been working on this for 2 years, missing a lot of vacations, camping, etc. But his employer Raytheon is sanctioning the whole deal, so it's all a good thing. I can't remember the last time I've been to a graduation ceremony where there were caps, gowns, classic music and walking across a stage to collect your diploma.

But before all that, we hooked up with mom and dad in their hotel room (suite, actually). It had been decided that Jim would fly with them from Michigan and save them the stress of a long car ride. They'd arrived the afternoon before. It was decided that Jim would go with Tom and Josie to a luncheon at the university and a tour of the applied physics lab. Dad wanted to walk around the town/see things, so we kind of had to gently put a stop to the idea of an 80-something man walking around a big city by himself. So Tim and I took mom and dad for a subway ride.

Baltimore's subway is pretty simplistic. A straight line from Johns Hopkins Hospital to one of the outer suburbs. We were within about 2 blocks from the Shot Tower station, so we boarded there (senior discount day passes, a pretty cheap outing!) and rode to the end of the line and back. Unfortunately not much to see, since a lot of it was underground. But it got mom and dad out of the hotel room, and got them out where they normally might never have gone on their own.

Afterward, mom told me it was all quite 'colorful'. I knew what she meant, and calmly and directly said, 'Now mom, we are just going to be colorblind today.' For years she has referenced a long-ago wrong turn in Detroit that had her and dad driving around in some iffy neighborhoods around the Eastern Market as an, um, 'color tour'. Given the area of Michigan they come from, I totally get that there is a bit of...I'll just come out and call it like I see it: racism. Especially in that generation. During the whole subway trip, I kept watching them to see if they looked especially uncomfortable. They didn't, but this was all definitely out of their comfort zone. It certainly isn't something we do every day either, but hey: big deal. You just ride, try to not look too much like a tourist, be pleasant, and don't make a lot of eye contact and everyone gets along in the crowded commuter space.

After we dropped them off back at the motel room for naps, Tim and I hustled back down to the Shot Tower station and rode the subway two stops to Lexington Market to see what that was all about. Faidley's Seafood was there, as well as a whole world of delights for foodies. After traversing the streets crowded with locals ('Yelp' reviews are amusing and descriptive: 'sketchy', 'third world', etc.) we walked into a foodies' paradise: a building crowded with vendors selling all sorts of cuisine. Korean barbecue, soul food, local seafood, you name it (even muskrat and raccoon...but only in season!). Damned shame there wasn't time to try it all. But we wanted to scope out Faidley's for a future seafood and crabcake purchase.

With the help of Tim's smartphone, we found a nearby Starbuck's and had iced coffees. Then it was time to go back and get ready for the evening. I put on my new purple dress, and Tim put on a suit and tie (minus the coat: it was in the 80's)and we headed to a suburb for dinner at Macaroni Grill. Then to find the campus (and somehow find parking) and an outdoor graduation ceremony in the bright, warm, gradually cooling late May air. Took forever for Tom to finally cross the stage, but we gave him our best noise-making efforts when he did. Then we went to a reception afterwards (strawberries dunked in chocolate, cheese platters and mundane industrial cookies). We watched, shaking our heads, as borderline diabetic dad loaded up on the cookies. How anyone had room to eat after that big dinner, I did not know. It ended up being a late night. It was pushing midnight by the time we got back to the motel. Mom and dad held up very well for being such a long day. I guess afternoon naps are the key.

Thursday

Today's plans were to take in the National Aquarium. Naturally, and adding brother-in-law Jim into the equation, complicated recon was required that morning: driving mom and dad to the Aquarium and dropping them off; locating convenient parking facilities; adequate water and snacks (a quick stop at Whole Foods for a case of water and some bananas in the morning) and a wheelchair for mom. Now, she doesn't need one, but we sort of agreed it would be a good thing to conserve her energy. And she didn't put up any fuss about it, and let us take turns wheeling her around. Meanwhile dad used her cane and wore his back brace--his back was bothering him.

Tim and I have been to the National Aquarium Baltimore before in 1995. They've expanded since then: there is now a jellyfish and dolphin exhibit, and a rain forest habitat (hotter than hell!). My favorite thing is still the manta ray pool on the lowest level. I could sit and watch that all day long. It's like a relaxing screen saver.

By the time we'd toured the whole place we were sick of groups of yelling school kids, so Jim retrieved the car and took mom and dad back to the motel. Tim, Tom and Josie and I went off in search of beer and oysters. There are lots of touristy places right down there on the piers and the Light Street Pavillion. A couple guys directed us to Phillips, where we sat down at the big black piano (not the keyboard side, the other side) and ordered a dozen raw oysters and selections from local breweries (Evolution Craft Brewery, and their own Phillips Amber Ale brewed locally. Tim had some kind of Belgian white, can't remember now). As for the oysters? Now I see it wasn't much of a stretch at all. We like sushi. We like oyster stew. They weren't slimy, and actually the less sauce and schmear on them, the better. Next time we've got access to good fresh oysters, we'll be slurping them again.

The beer was most refreshing (it was 90 degrees beating off the concrete on the piers), but the artisanal flavored vodkas were very entertaining. A couple guys were offering Oliphant vodka samples, and we sidled over and tried some. And while this was slightly out of line, but probably not as bad as the ones taking their charges to Hooters for lunch, a group of 5th grade trip chaperones wandered up and we laughingly got out of their way. They needed the stuff more than we did.

We walked all the way back to the motel, and got ready to go out to dinner. A sit-down, normal restaurant was needed for mom and dad, so Tim found Obrycki's. Jim and I took the liberty of ordering a dozen large steamed crabs as appetizers and a pitcher of a Heavy Seas beer (the beer was my idea, not Jim's) while mom and dad were on the way separately with Tom and Josie. How we would have done all this with only one vehicle, I have no idea. It originally Jim's idea to cram everyone in our Traverse, and pay out the ass for taxis when necessary. Tom renting a car for most of the week solved that problem

Mom (Ellie) would have loved the waitress. Can't remember her name now (Juliana, Julie) but she was accomodating in a sweetly Southern way (she was originally from Cary. No, I didn't find out the names of all her kids, and her entire life history. My bad). She whisked everything off the table and covered it with brown paper when we said we were indeed considering crabs. Soon all seven of us were bibbed and smacking away at crabs with wooden mallets. Shells, juice and melted butter were flying everywhere.

The entrees were good, too. Mom and dad enjoyed the schmoozing/free desserts, courtesy of the waitress. She told us the place is closing in November because the owners have passed away, and the children don't want to take over the business. Obrycki's has locations in BWI and Cleveland airports, but no steamed crabs. Hopefully someone will take it over, in spite of the questionable neighborhood. It looked like a place you did not want to hang around after dark, and we noticed the open-carrying security guard talking to the hostess, and walking on the street.

And some things never change. After requesting more rolls probably twice during the meal, mom and dad upended the basket into their styrofoam leftover containers. Mom's was so full the closure tab broke. *Sigh*

Friday

Today was to be American History lesson day. Mom wanted to go tour Fort McHenry, the site of the battle that inspired Francis Scott Key to write the Star Spangled Banner. We checked out of our motel and piled into two vehicles. Mom, dad, Tom and Josie headed to the fort, and Tim, Jim and I made a small detour back to Lexington market for a seafood run. It was decided we would bring shrimp and crab cakes to John and Diana's for dinner later that evening when we arrived in Chambersburg.

Friday morning was a good time in the market because there were very few customers around (the outside street was still teeming with locals hanging around). We bought 5 pounds of shrimp and 6 refrigerated crab cakes. And one deep fried crab cake to eat on the spot. It was second breakfast time, and I had to have one. While the ones at Obrycki's were very good, this one was even better. Soooooooo good. The three of us split it (me eating most of it) at the stand-up eating area. Then we got out of there and headed to the fort.

The whole thing was a relearning experience. I have to admit I am woefully ignorant of my own country's history. And once again, we were weaving in and out of school trip groups. By this time we had really seen a variety of people from all sorts of social backgrounds and occupations. There was a group of developmentally disabled children being pushed in strollers by a group of adults, and they needed help getting in and out of the doors in the visitors's center. Once again, a reminder that I don't really know the meaning of the words patience and selflessness.

Today was just as hot as before, so we made sure we were hauling plenty of water bottles. The fort is a very cool star-shape. I was looking for a souvenir coffee mug or something with the outline of the fort on it, but no such luck.

Mom let us push her around the perimeter and the soldiers' living quarters in a wheelchair without argument again, and once we left there, it was time to grab a quick light lunch at Quizno's and drop them and Jim off at the airport. Mom had previously decided she did not want to continue on with us to Chambersburg, citing lack of energy as the reason.

So we dropped of Tom and Josie's rental car at the airport and drove northwest into Pennsylvania. We drove through the countryside, answering (or trying to) Josie's many questions about the area and Gettysburg. Anything east of the Mississippi is a new adventure to her, being born and raised in Arizona. So the simplest thing seemed to just GO to Gettysburg and do a little historical side trip.

Tim and I had been to Gettysburg and the battlefields once before, but it was a dreary rainy day. This time it was hotter than Hades and sunny. We saw the new multimillion dollar visitors' center, and walked up to the Pickett's Charge area around Cemetery Hill (avoiding rampant poison ivy the whole way). School tours were leaving, so the place wasn't swarming. We read a few plaques, admired monuments and statuary, and stood in the balmy moist air, reflecting on all the terrible things that must have happened there. Were there still pieces of bullets and shrapnel in the ground, Josie asked. Yep, most likely. Along with a lot of blood. As in Fort McHenry, it seemed so odd to be reading about passionate battles against people who are now our close allies, or one and the same countrymen. One or two hundred years from now, what will the perspective be of the battles we are fighting today?

Then we walked over to the Soldiers' Cemetery. What is it about cemeteries that makes trees grow so large, and symmetrically beautiful? On second thought, maybe it's better not to think too hard about that. As in Arlington, there were gorgeous and huge oaks and other species. Josie noticed tall trees with an odd yellow and orange cup-like flower: it was a tulip tree. Those don't grow in Michigan or Arizona, so all four of us looked like tourists pulling the branches lower for a closer look at the flowers.

We got to Chambersburg ahead of the thunderstorms. The night before, the town had been rocked with a spectacular hail storm (downed branches, oak leaves, torn hostas, chipped/flaking paint all over the deck and picnic table were clear evidence), and nearby Franklin had been hit with an F1 tornado. Tim and John peeled and deveined shrimp for an hour so we could grill those, and broil the crab cakes. It dumped rain and thundered during dinner, but soon everything cleared out, making it fine for Tim and I to stay in the Suite On Wheels (the pop-up camper) in the driveway. This was far preferable to what Diana told us was a very uncomfortable sofa bed in the piano room.

Saturday

We drove to Caledonia State Park and hiked a very small section of the Appalachian Trail. The mountain laurels were in bloom, but the rhododendrons were still about 2 weeks away. We talked to a couple of hikers, one from New Zealand and one from New Hampshire while they were sitting in a trailside shelter. We used the same shelter ourselves when it started raining. We made it back to the house in time for me to quickly French braid niece Lorena's hair so she could dash off to a dance. Then we prepared a dinner of grilled venison tenderloin (nephew Benjamin's deer from last fall's hunting season), rosemary smashed potatoes, green salad and blackberry cobbler.

My right heel was about as sore as it's ever been (like, on FIRE), no doubt aggravated from all the tromping around on hard concrete and marble Tuesday, and then that day's hiking. Oh well! Having too much fun to get too worried about it. And it isn't like you can get immediate relief from plantar fasciitis anyway. Even if I took aggressive action now, complete freedom from pain would still be weeks/months away.

Sunday

Went to John and Diana's church for late service (woke up too late for early). We were sleeping shockingly well out in that camper, in spite of the firm mattress. We slept until the house wrens started singing each morning.

I always enjoy Nazarene/Brethren in Christ services, but they can be a little much sometimes compared to the traditional, stony, never-deviating Lutheran services. We should go to the contemporary service at ours and see if people rapturously raise their arms during the hymns.

Bikes were loaded on the back of John's suburban and we went for a bike ride on the C&O rail trail beside the brown, rain-swollen Potomac in Hancock, Maryland. Most of the 16 or 17-mile round trip was shaded, which was a good thing because it was hot again. Then we stopped in Fort Louden for ice cream (mmmmm, hot fudge brownie delight...).

Monday (Memorial Day)

We waited until 10am to hit the road (we were going to leave at 9), but Josie still wasn't up yet, so we didn't get to say goodbye to her. We stopped at a couple of Plain Mennonite nurseries on the way out of town to buy some red Knockout roses (we'd seen them all over town, blooming profusely) and some other annuals for the windowboxes and planters. I had not planted much of anything before we'd left. A little farther toward home, we saw a bake sale/barbecue fundraiser stand along the side of the road and got a slice of shoo-fly pie and a whoopie pie (which was startlingly reminiscent of a chocolate Hostess cupcake...only better). So we did get to eat a little Amish country cooking, just not quite as much as we'd originally planned. Always reasons to go back...

Super Sinfuls

2011-06-06T08:02:00.008-04:00

I can't believe these aren't in my blog recipe archive after as long as I've been reaching for the recipe. I've posted them on BakeBakeBake, but they aren't here. High time I fixed that.

Whenever I want to score points with Tim's coworkers (especially Rusty!), I send a pan of these with him to work. I've been making these since 1995. They've been a big hit since then. Simple to make, and delicious.

Today I'm making them for a bake sale at Tim's workplace to raise money for an employee who lost her entire home and car in the Joplin MO tornadoes a couple weeks ago. The tornado ripped the roof off the house, but the real damage happened in the subsequent three days of rain. Everything was lost to mold. She lost all her cookbooks, everything. Very sad. Tim suggested we pack up any cookbooks we aren't using and send them to her. I think I now know exactly what to do with all those Grandma Zucker and Grandma Keinath cookbooks we have piled in the basement.

Adapted from Marion Tincknell's submission to the Saginaw Symphony Chocolate Suite Cookbook

Super Sinfuls

2 C flour
1 C brown sugar, packed
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 C quick cooking rolled oats (I have used old-fashioned oats without a problem)
1 C (2 sticks) butter
a generous 1 C caramel ice cream sauce
4 tb flour
12 ounces (one bag) semisweet chocolate chips

Combine the 2 cups flour, brown sugar, salt, soda and oats in a large bowl. Cut in butter until particles are fine. Reserve 2 cups of this mixture and press remaining into bottom of a greased 9 X 13 inch pan. Bake at 350F for 10 minutes.

In a small bowl combine the caramel sauce (purchased in a jar is fine, homemade is even better) and the flour. Pour/spread this mixture over the baked crust. Sprinkle with the chocolate chips. Sprinkle with reserved crumb mixture. Bake at 12 to 15 minutes, or until a delicate brown. Cut into bars.

There are endless ways to customize these bars. I've thrown in M&M's and other Halloween candies. You could sub cinnamon chips and add spices. White chocolate chips. On and on...

Back Home From Pre-Summer Vacation

2011-05-30T21:31:00.008-04:00

My ever-so-nice hubby opened a bottle of 2007 Atalaya Almansa about an hour ago, figuring the mess that greeted us when we entered the house was beyond a beer. I think I have to agree with him. Somehow the cat sitter must have gotten Valrhona and Ferrari's foods switched over the last week (after I even labeled the bags and bowls), and the resulting digestive upheavals were evident: On the kitchen floor. On the powder room floor. All over the carpeted steps. The laundry room was an unmitigated disaster. And...on the kitchen counter!! Yaaaacckkk!!

Somewhat miffed at the note ('Please make sure to have more cleaner on hand for next time, and a paint scraper to help remove the diarrhea from the floor' (!)), I cleaned everything up and adjusted my attitude. I never have this expectation for this woman to be on her hands and knees cleaning up my home after our animals. I've set out Resolve before, but things have been so much better lately because we've gotten Ferrari on a high-fiber/sensitive digestive system formula. There simply haven't been as many messes. So I've quit leaving out the bottle, and didn't think to stock up on the stuff. But when I got out the food to feed the cats, I noticed Valrhona's Kirkland brand kibble in Ferrari's bowl, and Ferrari's food in Valrhona's bowl. Hmmmmmm. I plan to call her tomorrow (and set up July's cat-sitting) and get some clarification of what exactly happened this week. And yes, apologize for any misunderstanding. We've walked into a mess after being gone, but never this bad.

In the meantime, dirty laundry is in the process of being washed, and we are in need of absolutely no dinner. We indulged in burgers at Heck's Cafe in Cleveland at around 4pm, and that ought to do it for the day's calories. Second burger indulgence in a week (we had Five Guys last Monday Night in Silver Springs MD). The accompanying fries were the bomb (the waiter said they were making HIM hungry). Skin still on, deep golden brown... My burger au Poivre and Tim's Asiago burger were enjoyed outside under an umbrella on a quiet street shaded by huge sycamore trees. With a Great Lakes Brewing Company Dortmunder Gold, and a Holy Moses White Ale. Since Great Lakes Brewing Company itself was closed for the holiday, and Church Brew Works in Pittsburgh was too early in our travels to stop for a meal, Heck's was Plan B. I'd say it worked out perfectly. What in hell did we do before we had smart phones and GPS's??

More on our East Coast trip later.

Girly Clothes

2011-05-13T21:35:00.007-04:00

My two new dresses finally arrived. And while I am curvier than the models, they both actually fit (with the caveat that I will not be allowed to gain weight. Ever.) and are flattering. The blue ruffled one is a bit of a challenge to get in and out of (a brief moment of panic when I was trying to get out of it when I had to put on my scrubs and get out the door to work). Lots of pulleys and levers and straps and harnesses and secret blend fabrics on the inside (the dress is billed as a shape-enhancing garment). Sheesh, I don't quite need THAT much help, but it does do the job. I can see it being hot and sweaty and uncomfortable on a really warm day, though. The purple one is more straightforward, but apparently my ribcage is not supposed to be that wide. I did get it zipped up, though. Haven't decided which one I will take to Baltimore/Washington DC for Tom's graduation. Here's to hoping I will have more occasions besides funerals to wear dresses this year!

We're Going To Need A Bigger Trash Bag

2011-04-20T18:44:00.005-04:00

So the closet in the guest bathroom is finally cleaned out. Took me two separate days to do it, but it's done. Sorry, no before and after pics (Lindsey, you always do such a great job with that), but there's nothing that pretty to see. Just evidence that I rightly come by my genetic heritage. Which is to say that if it might be remotely useful to me or someone else, I CAN'T THROW IT THE HELL AWAY.

A snapshot of the gleanings: three square plastic bar soap containers. Each with the dessicated remains of slivers/scraps of bar soap inside. What year was the last time anyone in this house used bar soap? Blood specimen collection tubes that expired in 1992. Enough phlebotomy supplies to start my own drawing station. Contact lens deproteinizer, all expired in the last decade. A Ronald McDonald toothbrush. About 7000 hotel shampoo and conditioner samples.

And even after you decide to throw something away, that brings up a whole new decision tree. Can it be donated? Can it be recycled? Is it even recent enough to have the triangle symbol and number on it? What's the most responsible way to dispose of this? Am I being green enough? Am I contaminating our water table? Am I pushing the environment ever farther toward utter ruin?

It's like cancer. It starts with one saved thing, and then grows like a hidden tumor from there. Sometimes it spills out into the entire house, and can't be hidden any more. It's my prayer that this never happens to our home.

Sometime in the middle of rejecting the idea of combining all these shampoo/shower gel remnants into one vile house blend, rinsing the gooey/crusty remains of God-knows-what shampoo/soap out of rediscovered plastic travel containers (I can quit using kitchen Rubbermaid containers now) and making an unholy mess in the sink, I went out to the kitchen and combined a shot each of whiskey and Kahlua into a glass. Then I went back in there and finished the job while sipping liquid courage. I reeked from sampling old perfume samples and checking if a small can of Nivea deodorant still worked. The splattery end result of combining white hand lotions into one large bottle had me looking like a certain kind of star in a certain kind of film.

I refolded and sorted all the towels and wash cloths. I even grouped like colors together. It looks nice. It's done.

Rush at the Palace, April 17th

2011-04-18T08:51:00.004-04:00

Whoever shot this was not too far to the right of us. We were about lined up with the front row. I was having fun watching the two bald 60-something dudes completely rockin' out down there. The only songs they couldn't sing along to were the new ones. I think if they'd have been any closer to Alex, they would have been petting him.

Sounded like Geddy was having a bit of a strain finding his voice (in the first part of the show, anyway [Alex 'helped' here]), but overall these guys are still kickin' some serious musical butt. Here's a small sampling of the chicken suits, rubber chickens and pyrotechnics. After all these years, they really don't take themselves too seriously.

Random Thoughts

2011-04-15T20:58:00.011-04:00

---The people on Cooking Channel's 'Four Coursemen' seem way too young to be taking themselves that seriously. Food and selves probably shouldn't even be taken that seriously at my age. I've only seen parts of a couple shows and have not studied it in any depth, but that's my immediate, off-the-cuff impression. Seems to be an awful lot of self-praise and overthinking going on. I'd be curious to know what Anthony Bourdain's thoughts might be on these young people. What if there are Pop Tarts, Totinos Pizza Rolls, artificially colored and flavored foods shaped like dinosaurs, and highly non-local/sustainable foods in these people's childhoods? And that's OK if there are. My own food roots are humble, bordering on trashy. I can appreciate what they're doing. Maybe I'm having another 'old fuddy-duddy' moment, but I continue to have trouble adjusting to a world where any child, teen or twenty-something can now be taken seriously enough on whatever to be put on television.

---Maybe I'm just jealous because in my mid-twenties I was having to look up the instructions for how to cook rice, and was making sweet-and-sour chicken out of chicken nuggets taken home from closing at McDonald's.

---On a somewhat related note, I'm really irritated by pop songs that sound like they're being sung by high school cheerleaders with autotuners.

---I've had a number of moments lately where I've felt I'm supposed to be fully engaged in listening to several different people's problems. And empathizing, sympathizing and offering good advice. Being a friend, ya know? But there are times when my honest opinion is that a few people bring their own woe on themselves, and the temptation is mighty strong to say a variety of harsh, abrupt things. Shit or get off the pot. Go get help. Quit the job if it's making you that miserable. Stop waiting for the boss/the world to hand you nice things. Give yourself permission to go somewhere by yourself, read a book, pick up long-abandoned hobbies, allow yourself a break from martyrdom for just five freakin' minutes. Seek appropriate medication/counseling. Whatever. Maybe it's easy for me to think these things at this particular phase of my life where things are good and somewhat easy. But past times in my life when something was persistently not right, I at least got up the cojones to make some kind of change. And I admire and am more likely to support others who do, too.

---I had to walk the fine line between empathy and resistance to being manipulated yesterday at LACASA. I was given a heads-up that this person might call and request shelter, so I was forwarned. Still, when the call came, it was damn hard. This person had exhausted her time and then some at another shelter (which is an automatic 'no' for our shelter approval), and was clearly set on checking in to our facility as if it was a motel. The tears, the pleas that 'she needs to be protected', etc... Questions as to what plans she herself had made regarding safety and getting her life on track yielded pretty much nothing. It is not the job of LACASA to 'protect' clients, or be your concierge ("Do you give out gas vouchers? Because I'm really going to need them driving back and forth to ____ County.") We're about empowerment. I dutifully gave this person homeless and legal resource phone numbers and steered her in the direction of aid in her own county.

---One year ago tonight, we were sleeping the sleep of the exhausted, stranded traveler in a dive of a motel in downtown Amsterdam. Thanks to a volcano that has been non-existent in the news since last summer.

---Sweet spot foods planned for next week's birthday indulgences: Chicken livers and onions, FRIED. Sushi. Because that's so hard to do at home. And molten chocolate lava cakes. If possible, wrapped in phyllo dough like they do at La Becasse, if I can figure out how to do it.

Weekend, How Do I Love Thee?

2011-04-01T07:48:00.010-04:00

Let me count the ways. When you only get half as many as 'normal' people, they become all the more dear. Right now I'm kicking off mine by making a grilled cheese sammich with dill pickle and red onion (an extremely quick, meatless and temporary fix for a cheeseburger craving, BTW) and drinking a large glass of Montepulciano d'Abruzzo. How great is it when you are told 'hey, you've got leftover wine to finish'? The bottle was hiding behind the skim milk all week, and Tim reminded me it was back there. So it isn't as nice as freshly opened/breathed, but I'm not going to be picky. It's alcohol. It's Friday.

Plans for the weekend? Absolutely none. Except for one, and I'm not even going to write it on a 'to do' list, lest I ruin the possibility that it might get done. And that is to clean out ONE closet in the house. Just one. Any of them. They all need help. I was thinking of the guest bathroom closet. There are probably long expired meds in there that need to be pitched, and everything could use some serious organization. No painting, nothing creative, nothing that requires a lot of energy. I don't seem to have energy to spare on weekends. Weekends are for getting energy BACK. The life-sucking institution that is my employer pretty much takes it all away.

I sometimes wonder how many years I can continue to do my job. Most times I speculate I could do it until my 60's. On a really good day, my 70's. Other times when the plantar fasciitis flares up, or I'm at the end of a long stretch wondering if I will ever know life without grinding fatigue, or some twat of a nurse or fellow employee has dissed me again: I could flush this down the toilet today. In my more bitter moments, I conclude I'm only here because I'm healthy and able, and it prevents other people from having to be in my place. In a really bitter recent moment, it occurred to me that I have to be healthy and able to live long enough to be around to do this job, AND to clean out the homes/oversee the disbursements of the worldly possessions of the preceding generations of both sides of my family.

Then my thoughts turn to our own stuff. We're not exactly Tibetan monks in that regard. We've got crap. Lots of it. I feel like we should start paring down now, because I don't want succeeding generations to some day be wishing my stuff/house/unmade decisions would just go away. Not that anyone around here has been thinking THOSE thoughts of late (we're tentatively going up to Frankenmuth for more boxing/sorting Sunday or Monday. Again). And then I think about wills. We really should get those done once and for all. Funeral plans? Probably wouldn't hurt to get some plans solidified there, too. Seriously. I sometimes wonder if I've thought a little too much about death/end of life decisions in the last 8 months or so. If not death, the final disbursement of all the stuff accumulated during life.

So maybe the act of cleaning out ONE single closet will be a small step toward making someone else's burden lighter later. And hell, I might just enjoy the results myself.

It also wouldn't hurt to take a good, hard look at coming up with some new and creative hiding places for those critical documents and some of my jewelry this weekend. The recent burglarizing of Chris and Lindsey's home has gotten us really thinking about what could happen if someone broke in. While we have an alarm system, it's not a complete deterrent. We don't think something like this could not happen to us.

Last weekend (which for me would be the one two weeks ago) does not seem like a mere 14 days ago. For one thing, it was warm. Like it should be about now. There were spring peepers singing in the swampy area behind our house. The Super Moon was rising Friday and Saturday evenings. We were going to a Lenten fish fry at a nearby Catholic church recommended by a coworker, and talking with people we didn't know. I've got my strong opinions about the Catholic faith, but when it comes to fish fries and people getting together for food and fellowship...hell yeah, I'm all over that. We were going out for drinks (Bell's Hopslam tapped out of a firkin, and Founders' Kentucky Breakfast Stout) on a Friday night to one of our favorite restaurants (French Laundry). We were acting like normal people, sitting at the bar, playing with our smart phones.

Then we delivered our promised Christmas present to mom in the form of wining and dining in the Leelanau Peninsula. I like to think my palate is still evolving, and if I like it, it's probably/possibly good. I don't know what it was, but I tasted more Michigan wines I liked that day than probably any other. It's taken a couple decades, but maybe they have finally arrived. We hit Left Foot Charley, Ciccone, Mawby, 45 North, Circa, and Black Star Farms wineries before finally having dinner at La Becasse. Chef Guillaume Hazael-Masieux even made an appearance twice to see how we (and other diners) were enjoying ourselves. I think we'll be visiting that area in March again, because without all the tourists of the color, ski or summer seasons, every employee seemed a lot more welcoming and talkative. The lack of crowds, and the enthusiasm for the growing food and wine scene in that area was a delight all day.

Of course mom enjoyed all this personal attention. And I think we know what we'll be doing for a Christmas gift next year.

But one thing I noticed is that she really seems to have aged more in the last year or so. I'm sure the deaths of a close friend and all her remaining family have had much to do with that. I really don't know who's been telling her she does not look like she's 70 (she has brought that up quite a number of times lately), but to me she looked every day of it when she was struggling to get in and out of the vehicle and walking around with us that Saturday. It occurred to me much, foolishly, later that I should have been standing right behind her each time she had to climb in the car. Even more foolishly, days later Tim suggested we should have just had her sit on the other side of the car so she could lead with her stronger leg to get in. She had the most half-ass (and probably dangerous) way of climbing in that seemed to put her at risk of twisting something or falling. You would think I would be constantly watching out for falls, given I have parents-in-law in their 80's, and an ill coworker who needs a cane and constantly scared the hell out of us (most times belatedly) while she was on the job. We recently witnessed someone trip and fall right in the middle of church. I suppose I really need to be a lot more mindful of being close by and ready to catch someone if they do fall. I have not gotten into that caregiver mode yet. I guess I need to get with the program.

Time for another glass of wine...

Irish Car Bomb Cupcakes

2011-03-18T07:59:00.005-04:00

These were an absolute hit at work for the most recent bake sale yesterday (to raise cash for our Laboratory Professionals Week in April...which I will not be leaving the country to escape this year, BTW). In fact, I wonder if any of these made it to be sold outside of laboratory staff, judging by the comments I got last night and this morning from second and first shifters. My Irish Soda Bread and mint chocolate biscotti got minimal mention. However, I did notice that probably half the biscotti were already sold/gone before the sale even started at 7.

I also took some to LACASA to share, and they were much admired and relished there. Since I volunteer for a strictly anti-violence organization, I changed the name to 'Happy Irish Cupcake'. Which amused the staff to no end. I had some second thoughts about the name anyway, since I have seen these posted various places, and with very heated comment threads. I can see the basis for being offended. I suppose in my casual travels around the internet recipe world, I've seen this name often and long enough that it doesn't strike me as offensive. It almost seems like community property by now. I've also never seen foods/drinks named after painful events Columbine, Waco, Oklahoma City, or Iraq or Afghanistan. I haven't gone LOOKING, but I suspect I might have a long search. As though people just know not to go there.

Some jokes about violence and disasters are in poor taste, yes. But come on, once in a while ya just gotta lighten up.

Here's the recipe from the Smitten Kitchen site

I doubled the cupcake recipe and the ganache. I tripled the frosting recipe so I would have enough for the rosettes, and that was just enough to cover all 46 cupcakes. The clever 12-ounce clear drink cup containment dome? An idea I lifted from one of the phlebotomists at work.

And since I had O'Mara's Irish Cream taking up space in the fridge (for going on a year now), I used that instead of Bailey's.

I was asking $2 each for these, and apparently that's what people gladly paid. I was also offered a commission to make more of these by the facility coordinator at LACASA, but unfortunately time between now and when she needs them Sunday is too short. These were a two-day project crammed into work days. And I really don't want to trash the kitchen again.

Another Weekend Over

2011-03-07T08:35:00.014-05:00

And not another in sight for two weeks. Oh, well. If it was possible to bank sleep for two weeks, I'd be all set. Slept 7 hours on Friday during the day, then another 6 or so Friday night. Dozed off on the couch while surfing movies Saturday afternoon (after changing back into jammies from my exercise clothes) and then couldn't stay awake past 10 or 11 on Saturday night. Healthy I may be, but I think I still need these kinds of shutdown days where I loll around undressed and unshowered, and travel no farther than the kitchen or bathrooms.

But I did manage to mess with the fireplace so we get actual yellow flames instead of a wimpy blue glow from the gas burners; got a tiny bit of fanfic done; and talked to Bryan for about 2 1/2 hours on Friday night. We talked about what people want in life, the incompatibilities that arise because of wanting different things in life, relationship break-ups, kidney transplant tests and roadblocks, and of course, food.

Sunday in Frankenmuth we completed a grab bar installation in mom and dad Reinert's tub/shower stall, and got some more boxing up and trash tossing done at grandma and grandpa Zucker's. Must remind ourselves we still have two old mattresses in the bed of the pick-up truck, and they have to go out with the trash this week. I can see that being a rude surprise if we forget. One of them is cousin J's. Pretty much no words for when we dragged the mattress off the bedsprings. We thought we'd seen all the filth in that room, but...no. Scott took pics to document the first sunlight that has struck that floor in decades.

As usual, after any traumatic family duties necessary in Frankenmuth, we sought our favorite watering hole, the Frankenmuth Brewery. We had soups and deep fried onion rings and beer. Very comforting.

Tim and I made a
smoked tuna salad that night for dinner along with one of our favorite standby wines, any Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand. This particular one was from Branscott Estates. Quite appropriate to sip while looking at nephew Benjamin's pics on Facebook from his recent trip there with his mom and dad. The tuna salad recipe was actually an advertisement, and they wanted you to used pouch/canned tuna, and add liquid smoke to one of the dressings used to top the salad. Liquid smoke? Eeww. Why not put some tuna steaks on the smoker? I also swapped out the Granny Smith apple (sorry, March is not the time to find good apples in this part of the world) for an asian pear, and used cashews instead of walnuts. All in all, quite good.

But one project that required a minimal amount of effort Saturday was making biscotti. The motivation was, of course, hunger. And a craving for something salty, savory and crunchy, but being too lazy and cheap to leave the house to buy something prepackaged and expensive. Usually the supplies I have on hand at any given moment in the house are sufficient to whip up a multi-course feast. I had blue cheese, and I always have almonds, walnuts and pecans in the freezer. Buttermilk is a staple in the fridge, as are eggs. White and whole wheat flours, and cornmeal? Yep, always in the house. I based it on this recipe from the Vegetarian Epicure, and it could be adapted for any cheesy nutty combination you wanted. We had them with a Montepulciano d'Abruzzo (Cantina Zaccagnini, 2008) but there are probably many/better pairings out there.

Yes, when you look at all the baking time involved, I could probably have driven to Trader Joe's and back. But the point was to use what I had, and to stay in my jammies and not leave the house. Critical issues on my weekends.

Blue Cheese and Pecan Biscotti

1 3/4 cup white all purpose flour
1/4 cup whole wheat flour
1/4 cup yellow cornmeal
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 1/4 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp coarse ground black pepper
pinch cayenne pepper
about 1/2 cup crumbled blue cheese
1 to 1 1/2 cup toasted pecans
1/2 cup buttermilk
2 large eggs, beaten

Combine the flour, cornmeal, salt, baking powder, baking soda, black and cayenne pepper in a medium bowl and whisk it all together. Stir in the crumbled blue cheese.

In a small bowl beat together the eggs and buttermilk. Pour the wet mixture into the dry and stir together with a fork until a crumbly dough forms. Turn the dough onto a lightly floured board and knead a few turns, just until it is smooth. Form the dough into a ball, wrap it in plastic wrap and let it rest about 15 minutes.

Work the pecans into the dough, leaving a mixture of whole and crushed nuts scattered throughout the dough. Divide the dough into three equal parts and form each part into a one-inch diameter log. Put the logs onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper, spacing them about 2 inches apart, and flatten them just slightly with the palm of your hand.

Bake the logs at 375 F for 20 minutes, until golden. The tops may split as they bake. Let them cool on the baking sheet a few minutes, then carefully transfer them to a rack and let them cool at least 20 minutes more. Meanwhile, lower the oven temperature to 225 F.

Using a very sharp, thin serrated knife, slice the logs on the diagonal, about 1/4 inch thick. Arrange the slices on parchment lined baking sheets (you'll need two) and bake them 35 minutes. Flip the biscotti over and bake again for another 35 minutes or until they are dry and crisp. Let the biscotti cool completely on racks.

Upper Peninsula Weekend

2011-02-08T10:59:00.013-05:00

It's been a long, long time since I've been north of the bridge during the winter. I've forgotten how things are since the early 80's when I lived up there for school. Like how 3/4 of businesses are closed for the season, and the most common species flourishing is the snowmobiler. Casual tourists like us are few and far between. But I figured we'd have a good time when I planned a weekend getaway for one of Tim's Christmas presents way back before Christmas.

It was sheer coincidence I chose Superbowl weekend. Which goes to show how much I care about the sport. If we had been home, we probably would have done the exact same thing we did up north: fall asleep at 730 and 8pm, both of us with books on our laps. At home there would have been a cat or two on top of both of us. If we had been in Grayling, we would have had more fun watching the game on Dave's big screen TV, and we would have eaten sodium and fat-laden snacks, and drank a hell of a lot more beer. As it was, the owner of the Pinewood Lodge Bed and Breakfast was unable to get the TV working on an outside signal, so we chowed down on our pasties from Jean Kay's in Marquette, had one or two Stevens Point 2012 Black Ales and called it a night.

It was also sheer coincidence we chose Munising's Ice Fest weekend to visit. So there were a few more people wandering around town. We found out where the ice-climbing was going on (just past Munising Falls), and got directions from a park ranger and a few ice climbers as to where the best observation was to be had.

One year (around 2004 or 5, I'm guessing) we were exhausted from an afternoon of snowshoeing around the loose snow in our own neighborhood. This Superbowl Sunday, we were exhausted from afternoons of snowshoeing and cross-country skiing around the eastern Upper Peninsula. The Valley Spur trail system is beautifully groomed and has a warming house with a wood stove. Novices like us appreciate the train-track precision of the ski grooves, and can only watch in wonder as the pros telemark/skate past us.

Unfortunately neither one of us took a pic of the faithful little green Coleman stove on our truck tailgate heating up a saucepan of hot chocolate I had made ahead of time at home. No schapps, as suggested by a fellow skier, but what it lacked in alcohol it made up for in whole milk and generous amounts of Ghirardelli 100% cacao bars.

We had no shortage of places to eat, in spite of sought-out places being closed (the Galley in St. Ignace, where I'd hoped to score some whitefish livers is only open during warm months, and the Vierling brew pub in downtown Marquette was being remodeled). We ended up having some of the best fried fish I'd ever had in a bowling alley (Fred's Pub) in St. Ignace Friday night, and then huge broiled filets at the Brownstone Inn, almost walking distance from the Pinewood. We skipped Lehto's this time for pasties, and got online and local recommendations for
Jean Kay's.

We very much enjoyed our stay at the Pinewood. But the decor came as a bit of a shock when we walked in. The online pics did not reveal a good deal of it. I did NOT see the nightstand tables in our suite, consisting of plaster cherubs smilingly holding up round plate glass. Nor did pics show the fringed lamps, girly frou-frou items and overabundance of artificial flowers EVERYWHERE in our room. It was as if mom had improbably purchased/inherited a log cabin and liberally applied her decorating skills to it. But the owners Jerry and Jenny were excellent hosts, and we had the entire place to ourselves the weekend. Jerry said they don't push the business in the winter because they get plenty during the summer. And they've gotten a little discouraged after hosting snowmobilers (things like using the bathroom towels to clean greasy skis and parts, and returning at 2AM don't endear yourself to bed and breakfast owners).

Some really wonderful things about the Upper Peninsula in the dead of winter: no mosquitoes. And the vault toilets don't stink!

Snow Day

2011-02-03T08:03:00.005-05:00

OK, so you hear the big news on TV at the beginning of the week that a 'colossal' (yes, that was the darling word of the media) snowstorm is coming. You lay battle plans. These included going to the store early Monday morning to pick up staples as well as the other miscellaneous items on your list. Snowblower? Check. Brought up from the shed, gassed up and positioned in the garage. Full tanks of gas in both vehicles? Check. Snow shovel, broom, blanket, extra food and water in the truck? Check. As the days went by and the storm got even more 'colossal', those supplies grew to include snow pants and winter boots.

And when I saw a coworker's Facebook post the eve of the storm, my supplies soon included a change of clothes and contact case. The post joyously exclaiming that she'd been told to stay home from first shift tomorrow. As in the shift that comes in to relieve third shift.

Yes, I really did swivel my head to check our phone for a blinking message. Knowing there was none, of course.

Now let me say that quite a number of us were impressed that our employer initiated an snow emergency plan in the hours before the storm was due to arrive. This is remarkably and surprisingly proactive on their part. AND that the lab was included in it.

Having said that, though, in the resulting bizarre-ass lottery that followed, a select few employees were called and told to simply stay home. A select few were asked to come to the hospital, spend the night in the unused Rehab unit and work Wednesday...and get paid double time, including the time spent sleeping. And a select few bundled up at home, drove out into the storm and worked their regular shift for straight time. And drove back home again in the still-raging storm. Employees who lived less than 5 miles away were told to stay home, while someone who commutes 40 miles (no, I don't have the longest commute) made it in to start her shift, ON TIME at 5am. She walked in to our disbelieving applause.

So...yeah. It's going to be the Talk for quite some time. What would have made it more fair? How could it been better arranged? Would communication actually have made this better? Was it so impossible to determine where employees live? Was the free food in the cafeteria (only meant for those employees who stayed extra) any different than the usual greasy swill served the other days of the year?

Any ideas? Any plans implemented in other work places that seem to make sense?

Sunday Dinner Rolls

2011-01-24T08:45:00.001-05:00

So yeah, it seems I have posted nothing but food/recipes on my blog for months. Which is not necessarily a bad thing. There have been plenty of other things going on, but I think Facebook (Wastebook) has absorbed some of that. And lately I haven't had a whole lot of earth-shattering insights. Other than it's colder than a witch's hoo-ha outside, time is still flying faster than ever, and that I'm getting older, and perpetually fighting (and more or less breaking even) in the wintertime weight gain battle.

Anyway:

Or Saturday Night Dinner rolls (which is when we made them to go with a beef tenderloin), or whatever day of the week you want to make these.

This recipe came from my-sister-in-law in Pennsylvania. She made them for us the weekend following Thanksgiving 2009. I think she got it out of a Pennsylvania Dutch/Amish cookbook. They're soft, slightly sweet and very addictive. Better than anything you'll pop out of a paper and metal tube with a Doughboy character on it.

1 package yeast (2 1/4 teaspoons)

1/2 cup sugar

1 cup warm water

2 eggs

1/2 cup oil

1 tablespoon salt

1/4 cup milk powder (optional)

4 cups flour

Dissolve yeast and sugar in water. Beat in eggs, oil, salt and milk powder. Gradually stir in flour until well mixed and evenly moistened. This dough is rather sticky and will raise at least twice its size, so use a large bowl. No kneading is required. Cover bowl and let stand overnight. In the morning divide the dough into 4 parts. Use plenty of flour on the board or wax paper and roll out each part in a circle. Cut each circle like a pizza in 8 pieces. Roll large end to small end and place on greased pans. Let stand until after church (or for an hour). Bake at 375 for 8 minutes. Brush tops with melted butter.

Notes: I elected not to brush them with melted butter, and they were still good. I needed to leave them in the oven a few more minutes to give them a bit more color.

Caramel Cake with Caramelized Butter Frosting

2011-01-23T07:36:00.008-05:00

This cake is amazing. And I can see making the caramel syrup again to drizzle over various items, and the frosting (oh yes, that frosting!) for various applications on other cake. It would be sick on top of chocolate cupcakes. I'm not sure how much sea salt I added to the frosting, but the final taste was a heavenly, salted caramel finger-lickin' good. Once you get past the challenge of making what is known as 'culinary napalm', the rest of the recipe is straighforward. I had a bowl of snow scooped from the deck sitting nearby at the ready, just in case, and I was wearing long sleeves and two oven mitts to safeguard against molten sugar burns.

I did have to bake it an additional 15-20 minutes longer than the recipe specified. Not a suprise with my oven, I usually have to give most things a little more time.

I just love the color the syrup gives to the cake and frosting. I think I added a bit more than what the recipe called for, but that's the nice thing about frosting: you can adjust until it looks and feels right. There was plenty to cover the single layer cake (another nice thing: no big multi-layer thing with leftovers to tempt me for days and days), plus a little left over.

For the cake, I used a greased and parchment-lined 9-inch springform pan, which was perfect. The cake itself was dense and moist, and dubbed delicious by Sharon and Rodney who are visiting for the weekend.

Recipe by Shuna Fish Lydon

Lemon and Prosciutto Stuffed Pork Loin

2011-01-09T13:36:00.015-05:00

The original recipe from Bon Apetit

Ever looked at a recipe and thought: 'ummmmmmm, no way can this be good'? When I read the reviews, they confirmed what I figured: the entire lemon slice made the stuffing bitter. I've seen entire lemon slices baked into Shaker Lemon Pie, or preserved lemons. But there you've also got massive amounts of sugar or salt present. Here, you haven't got anything to mitigate that bitter pith, and what looked like squat in the way of flavorings.

Tim really wanted to make this, so I immediately decided to reconfigure the filling. First, why the hell use panko? I thought that was for outside coatings and making things crispy. And when I've got a lingering lonely slice of whole wheat bread about to start manufacturing penicillin, and two whole wheat hamburger buns left over, what is the logical choice to use? I ground those up and lightly toasted them to a golden brown. I totally agree with chef Anne Burrell's sentiment that brown food is good food.

I zested and juiced three lemons. That was enough to flavor/moisten all the bread crumbs (there were more like two cups instead of a measly 1/2 cup). I also sauteed a yellow onion, two cloves of garlic and the white/pale green parts of 5 green onions I had left over. The green parts of the green onion got added along with the chives (which it pained me to buy, but hey: it's the middle of January in Michigan, so what else are ya gonna do?). I also thought of pine nuts and capers, so I added about a half cup of toasted pine nuts, and a couple good spoonfuls of drained capers. The prosciutto got layered on the sheet o' pork, and then I patted on the crumb stuffing with some freshly ground salt and pepper.

The rolled and string-tied loin was huge and cumbersome, but I managed to more or less brown it a little on the exterior in a bit of olive oil (the recipe doesn't call for doing that, either), salting and peppering again, and then popped it into the oven, skewered with the remote thermometer. Then Timmeh and I opened up a bottle of Mionetto Prosecco to celebrate a belated New Year's Day together, since he was out of state and I was at work for the actual occasion.

For our side vegetable, I said screw the broccolini (I'm sure it's very healthy but I wasn't even sure I could find it), and instead we are roasting hunks of an enormous blue Hubbard squash that has been in the garage for so long it has gone through several freeze-thaw cycles and is beginning to look really questionable in spots.

The whole meal turned out quite well. I had to trim away quite a bit of the squash, but after roasting it, we mashed it with a splash of cream and some maple syrup. And the pork was delicious and lemony and flavorful. I more or less followed the instructions to make the lemony sauce/gravy with the roasting pan drippings and some Pino Grigio.

Now, what to do with the other half of the Costco package of prosciutto? I'm thinking draped on a pizza with caramelized onions, fresh mozarella, walnuts and some dried figs macerated with a little of the high-end balsamic vinegar Tim gave me for Christmas. But that will have to be after we've finished or frozen the 17-pound veggie lasagna.

Merry Christmas!

2010-12-24T21:33:00.003-05:00

Egg nog custard and sweetened whipped cream in a phyllo cup topped with a phyllo snowflake.

Soft Cake-like Chocolate Sandwich Cookies

2010-12-11T10:46:00.011-05:00

I wanted to see if I could make a chocolate version of the soft cake-like ('Lofthouse') sugar cookies. So I did, by using 5 cups of flour and one cup of Hershey's Special Dark Cocoa. The dough was VERY soft, even after refrigeration. But with a generously floured work surface I was able to successfully cut circles.

Since these are for an afternoon of card playing, I gave a nod to the Earl of Sandwich and made ganache sandwiches.

For my ganache, I used 16 ounces of heavy cream, about 32 ounces total of Trader Joe's Dark and Bittersweet chocolates, and about 4 tablespoons of butter. I let that cool to room temperature then piped it onto the bottoms of half the cookies with a large star tip. I had enough cookies and filling to make 26 sandwiches (minus the ones sacrificed for quality control, of course).

These are for a bunch of guys, so I didn't fancy them up. But you could fill/frost/flavor these however you like. You could roll the edges in crushed candy canes, nuts, or whatever festive inspiration strikes.

(I really hope the approaching snow does not prevent tomorrow's card game from happening because I simply must not be left in house with these!!)

ETA 12/13/10: Slightly warmed in the microwave, these resemble molten chocolate lava cakes. Knowledge I did not necessarily need...

My Three Favorite Biscotti

2010-12-09T12:12:00.016-05:00

I'm not even remotely Italian, but I've made these for Christmas for so many years, I don't even remember a winter without them now. My family might possibly disown me if I quit making them. These are ideal make-ahead cookes since they really never get stale. I've had them last for 6 weeks without a problem more serious than the chocolate bottoms starting to bloom. They start out dry and crunchy, so the only way to ruin them is to expose them to a moist environment. With the exception of dunking them in coffee, hot chocolate, milk... I like these recipes in particular because they don't contain butter (if I want a butter-based cookie, I'll go get something rich and soft and fattening, thank you very much). I think these are even crunchier than a butter-based biscotti, will not go rancid as fast, and have the added benefit of being a little lower fat and sugar offerings in a very fat and sugar-laden time of year.

People seem to think these are so much work, but they're really not. Yes, the baking times are long, but they're not much more hassle than plenty of other cookies. And the prices these things sell for in stores and coffee shops...? I could probably quit my job if I could get that kind of money for these.

Key pointers: make sure the logs are firm enough after the first baking to slice properly, yet not too firm. And not so soft that the embedded nuts squish downward. A good quality, sharp serrated bread knife is the tool of choice.

Biscotti L'Orange

Adapted from 'Cooking Light' magazine (June 1995)

1 cup sugar
1 tsp grated orange rind (or more)
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp orange extract
3 eggs
3 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cups chopped walnuts
3/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
vegetable cooking spray

Combine first 5 ingredients in a large bowl; beat at medium speed of a mixer until well blended. Combine flour, walnuts, baking soda and salt. Gradually add to sugar mixture, beating until well blended.

Turn dough out onto lightly floured surface, and knead lightly 7 times. Shape dough into 16-inch long roll and place on baking sheet coated with cooking spray. Flatten roll to 1-inch thickness.

Bake at 350 for 30 minutes. Remove roll from baking sheet; let cool 10 minutes on a wire rack.

Cut roll diagonally into 27 1/2-inch slices and place, cut sides down on baking sheet. Reduce oven temperature to 325 and bake 10 minutes. Turn cookies over and bake an additional 10 minutes (the cookies will be slightly soft in the center but will harden as they cool). Remove form baking sheet and let cool completely on a wire rack. Yield: 27 cookies (who's counting? I probably get more if the logs are long and narrow)

Notes: I don't even pull out the mixer for any of my biscotti: I use a whisk to mix the dry and wet groups of ingredients. And parchment paper makes all this so much easier. These are just as good without the walnuts---I don't think I've ever made them with the walnuts, actually. I nearly always add a handful or two of dried cranberries. I've made lemon biscotti by substituting lemon extract and lemon zest. You can save 10 minutes if you stand them upright on the pan for the second baking. These are really good with the bottoms dunked in semisweet or bittersweet chocolate.

Chocolate Walnut Biscotti

Adapted from Williams-Sonoma 'Gifts From The Kitchen' cookbook

4 oz semisweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
1 cup granulated sugar
1 3/ 4 cups all-purpose flour
1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
4 eggs
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 1/2 cups coarsely chopped toasted walnuts

Preheat oven to 300. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a food processor fitted with a metal blade, combine the chocolate and sugar and grind until the chocolate is very fine. Set aside. In a bowl, sift together the flour, cocoa powder, baking soda and salt. Set aside.

In the bowl of a heavy-duty mixer, combine the eggs and vanilla. Beat at medium speed to blend. Reduce speed to low; add the chocolate and flour mixtures and mix until a stiff dough forms, adding walnuts when about half mixed. Transfer dough to a floured surface and gather it together. Divide in half. Form each half into a log 12 inches long.

Carefully transfer the logs to the prepared baking sheet, spacing them evenly. Pat to even up the shapes. Bake until almost firm to the touch, about 50 minutes. Let cool for 10 minutes. Leave oven set at 300.

Using a spatula, transfer the logs to a work surface. Using a serrated knife, cut on the diagonal into slices 1/2 to 3/4 inch thick. Return the slices to the baking sheet. Stand upright and bake for 25 minutes.

Transfer cookies to wire racks to cool. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to a month.

Makes about 2 1/2 dozen (again, I never count)

And these, which take a bit more finesse but are so worth the final marbled/swirled look:

Mocha Almond Biscotti

Adapted from Eating Well November/December 1992

Ingredients:

• 1/2 cup whole unblanched almonds
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 cup sugar
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 2 large eggs
• 2 large egg whites
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 tablespoon unsweetened cocoa powder
• 2 teaspoons instant coffee or espresso powder
• 4 teaspoons water
• 1 ounce unsweetened chocolate, melted
• 1/2 teaspoon almond extract

Preparation:

1. Preheat oven to 325°F. Lightly oil a baking sheet or coat it with nonstick cooking spray (or use parchment paper).

2. Spread almonds on a second baking sheet and bake for 12 to 14 minutes, or until lightly toasted.

3. Stir together flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt in a large bowl. Whisk together eggs, egg whites and vanilla in a small bowl and add to the dry ingredients; mix just until smooth.

4. Combine cocoa, instant coffee and water in a small bowl. Divide the dough in half. Add the cocoa mixture and melted chocolate to one half. Mix just until incorporated. Stir almond extract and the almonds into the other half.

5. Place half of the almond dough on a well-floured work surface. Pat into a 4-by-8-inch rectangle. Top with half of the chocolate dough.

Roll up into a cylinder, then roll the cylinder back and forth to form a 14-by-1 1/2 inch log. Repeat with the remaining doughs.

Place the logs on a prepared baking sheet. Bake until firm to the touch, 20 to 25 minutes. Transfer the logs to a rack to cool. Reduce the oven temperature to 300°F.

6. Cut the logs diagonally into 1/2-inch-thick slices.

Stand the slices upright on the baking sheet and bake for 40 minutes. Let cool before storing.

Notes:

I often just use 4 whole eggs, but then must add 1/3 to ½ cup additional flour if the dough becomes too sticky. Make sure work surface is generously floured before laying out dough. I sometimes dust my fingertips with cocoa when spreading out the mocha dough. I also dunk the bottoms of these in bittersweet or semisweet chocolate.

Soft, Cake-like Sugar Cookies

2010-11-09T09:44:00.015-05:00

When you walk into a grocery store and see the clear plastic packages of Lofthouse cookies, to which school of thought do you subscribe? 'Icky, mass-produced artificial color and flavor bombs!'? Or 'CRACK! GIMME!!'? Or maybe, possibly a little of both?

Here's a way to make a homemade version. I found the same recipe on Secret Recipe Archive and cdkitchen, and I made a few changes. I subbed half the butter with Crisco butter-flavored shortening to get that lovey-dovey, huggy cakey softness. I added a little salt. Because bland dough needs just a little salt. And I increased the frosting just a bit. I used a 3-inch/7.5 cm round cutter, and got just shy of 4 dozen cookies. The amount of frosting was enough to cover each one.

'LOFTHOUSE' COOKIES

1/2 C. butter
1/2 C. shortening
2 C. sugar
3 eggs
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp salt
1 tsp. baking powder
1 1/2 C. sour cream
5-6 C. flour (until desired consistency for rolling)

Cream together butter, shortening and sugar. Beat in eggs and sour cream and vanilla. Mix in dry ingredients. Dough will be very soft. Cover and refrigerate overnight.

Preheat oven to 425ºF. Roll out dough to a 1/4 to 3/8 inch thickness using a generous amount of flour (I used a 3-inch/7.5cm round cutter). Cut out shapes and bake on an ungreased cookie sheet for 8 minutes. Cool on wire rack. Frost and decorate as desired.

'LOFTHOUSE' FROSTING

5 cups confectioners sugar
1/2 cup shortening
6-7 tbsp. milk
1 tsp. vanilla extract
food coloring (optional)

In a large bowl, cream together the confectioners' sugar and shortening until smooth. Gradually mix in the milk and vanilla with an electric mixer until smooth and stiff, about 5 minutes. Color with food coloring if desired.

They'll barely have any color, but they're done. Don't overbake them.

I chose a simple sprinkle of raw sugar on top of the frosting, but you could add colored jimmies or sprinkles to make them look just as tawdry as the industrial, store-bought version.

I was told by a coworker that these were just as good as his grandmother's sugar cookies. Pretty much the entire batch was devoured at a work potluck by shift's end.

Oh, Fudge!

2010-10-23T09:53:00.015-04:00

I know it's a couple months before Christmas, but I've been up to no good in the kitchen messing around with fudge recipes.

It all started when a coworker mentioned on Wastebook that it was National Fudge Day. Huh? OK, if you say so. Then naturally my mind does a Homer Simpson-esque 'Mmmmmmmmm. Fudge.' And I couldn't leave it alone.

Alton Brown's recipe seems to have the most chocolate (unsweetened, better yet) and the least sugar of all the recipes I checked. And I DON'T want a recipe that uses marshmallows.

I've made this a number of times before, but never have had the fail like yesterday morning. The glass or two of wine I had after work that inspired me to go ahead and make my dear coworkers fudge probably also contributed to me literally fudging it up. At several points along the way: Bringing it to a boil too soon, stirring/messing with it too much, not using accurate thermometers (or finding out how many degrees off they are by testing them with boiling water), not letting it get cool enough before adding the nuts and vanilla, and going too far with the stirring (Matte finish? How matte is matte supposed to be?) before putting it in the pan. I ended up with a seized up, dry, crumbly brown mass. I crammed it flat into the pan, and covered it with foil. Later that evening, I cut it into square-shaped chunks, and presented it to my coworkers. Bless them, there was not a single piece left by morning. Except for all the dry crumbs.

Today I bought more unsweetened chocolate and tried again. A little less wine and a lot more paying attention resulted in what is much closer to a proper pan of fudge. I let it cool down to 110F instead of 130F before starting to stir. It was softer and creamier. There were actually some pieces left when I went to collect the pan and go home. Maybe some people said 'Oh man, fudge again??'. But as my coworker Sue said, 'Feel free to keep right on screwing up...'

Dutch Oven Bread

2010-10-18T09:14:00.009-04:00

Never got around to posting this in September after our last camping trip.

Alton Brown's Knead Not Sourdough Bread

I've made this quite a few times over the last few years. Twice last month. It's really not a sourdough, because you add commercial yeast rather than trying to catch wild yeast, or using starter. Whatever it's called, this is one of our favorite things to make while camping. What I do is measure all the dry ingredients, put them in a plastic zipper storage bag, and pour out enough water in a purchased bottle to leave exactly 12 ounces. Then the day before we plan to have the bread, dump everything in a bowl, mix and cover it. It looks so dry, like it's never going to come together, but it does.

That's after 19 hours (or more). Sometimes I don't get to it after exactly 19 hours, but a few hours more certainly don't detract from the result.

And sometimes the loaf gets more time to rise longer than the recipe calls for, too. What I've learned is that you need a dutch oven big enough to accommodate the loaf. A twelve-inch oven is ideal. I've done it in a 10-inch, and just scorched the living hell out of the top, where it hits the lid. We've scraped off the burnt part and eaten it anyway, but it really isn't very pretty. We invested in another 12-inch (=8 quart, 30.5 cm, 7.6 liter) dutch oven last weekend on an up-north 'leaf-peeping' trip, so hopefully this will not happen again.

A sheet of parchment paper helps to easily transfer the bread to the oven, and then to lift it out of the oven again. It's OK inside the oven while the bread bakes.

The hardest part is judging when it's done. Stick an instant read thermometer into the center. Sometimes it's done in 30 minutes...sometimes not. This last loaf couldn't seem to crack 200F degrees (we had the coals screaming hot to start with, and then they petered out toward the end. Charcoal cooking takes a bit of finesse.). It hit 195, and we called it good. We were hungry. It was not at all doughy/underdone in the center.

We've served this in the form of garlic bread along with a dutch oven lasagna swimming with tomato sauce and melted mozarella. But actually I think our favorite thing is to serve it as is, with bone-in chicken breasts, browned and baked in a dutch oven in butter and olive oil with herbs crammed under the skin. So when we're ripping at the hot bread like hungry baboons, we can drag chunks of it through the reddish-brown, herby, olive oil-butter-chicken drippings in the bottom of the oven.

You could take any bread dough you like, and bake it the same way. If the oven is big enough and you've got a good, even heat source, the sky's the limit. Cast iron does the nicest things to bread or any kind of food.

This bread reminds me of what you would find in a good bakery. Substantial, blistery, crackly exterior. Or as Tim says, 'serious-ass crust'. If you like a soft, yielding loaf with a tender crust, this one isn't for you.

2010-10-07T18:41:00.001-04:00

Peanut Butter and Jelly Bars

2010-09-18T16:28:00.006-04:00

This is a recipe I got from mom, but I'm not sure where she got it from. It's simple...no mixer required. PB&J was never my favorite sammich, but these are good, and they capture that rich, salty/sweet soft and slightly squishy essence. Been feeling more than a little nostalgic lately with these funerals and sorting of worldly goods, so I suppose it's no surprise I'm reaching for good old comfort-food things. I made these for a bake sale last week.

2 1/2 cups flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 C packed brown sugar
1 C (2 sticks) butter, room temperature
2 large eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 C grape jelly
1/2 C chunky peanut butter

Heat oven to 375F. Generously grease a 9 X 13 pan. Mix flour, baking powder and sugar in a large bowl until well blended. Cut in butter with a pastry blender or two knives until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Beat eggs and vanilla with fork or whisk in a small bowl until foamy; stir into flour mixture until well blended. Drop half of dough by heaping spoonfuls into prepared pan. Pat into a flat layer with greased fingers (dough will be sticky). Spread evenly with jelly; drop 1/2 teaspoonfuls of peanut butter over jelly. Spoon remaining dough over top. Bake 30-35 minutes until golden brown. Cool in pan on rack. Cut into bars. Store covered. Makes about 48.

Notes:

I used more than 1/2 cup jelly and peanut butter. And I used homemade grape jelly, but any kind will do. I also used creamy instead of chunky, since that's all we ever have in the house.

I stir just a little extra peanut butter right into the dough, too. Just because.

Blobs of dough will puff and spread out to cover the pb and jelly, so don't worry if there are gaps between them.

Stuff

2010-09-14T09:45:00.019-04:00

Instead of getting ready for bed and taking a load off my sore (yes, back to work one night after vacation and they hurt already) feet, I'm impatiently waiting for a cinnamon streuselkuchen to come out of the oven, so we can take it to...another funeral luncheon! There won't be any time to let it cool and slice it here, because the minute it comes out of the oven, we have to get in the car and drive up to Frankenmuth. We'll only be staying for the visitation, because we have to get back home to sleep, so we can go to work tonight.

Who died this time? My step-uncle. The husband of my Aunt Mary, who just died 6 weeks ago. He'd been battling multiple cancers, and Mary's death probably was simply one more nail in the coffin. He's with her now, and not suffering, but there has been a bit too much death recently. He was a good solid guy, and he will be missed. I really wish we had gotten the chance to go camping with him and Mary. They loved it as much as we do. Never going to happen now.

And as I smear retinol on my face and use sunscreen and obsess over a healthy diet and exercise, I keep thinking, yep, that's going to be my shriveled and shrunken face in that pillowed coffin some day. No matter what I do. Quickly followed by this thought: No, it could possibly be my face now, in three days. Nothing like three funerals in one summer to get you thinking about your own mortality and your own unique passage out of this life and into the next.

So it happened as we feared: Grandpa, who is turning 98 next month has outlived both his devoted caregivers. Mom keeps making cracks that he's going to outlive her, too.

We've done a lot of reminiscing as we've been sorting through the contents of Grandma and Grandpa's house the last few weeks. It's Grandma's cookbooks and recipes that get to me. I'm grateful for the insulating, neutral emotional state I've been able to maintain while sorting everything else, but the kitchen stuff is what opens the door to a different sort of internal weather. It's been both a joy and sorrow to page through all Grandma's recipes. I've been reflexively putting my face into the books and sniffing. Under the mustiness, the 'Grandma's house' smell is still there. And all the loose scraps of paper with her scrawly handwritten recipes jotted down from the 'Listen to the Mrs.' radio show she listened to every day. There were lots of happy hours spent eating or baking in that kitchen over the last few decades.

It's a huge job, being done in increments of a few hours here, a few hours there. That's pretty much all we can stand to do before we get overwhelmed by all the stuff, and by the insidious smell of urine that still permeates the house. Grandma died in the spring of 2006, and Aunt Mary moved Grandpa out of there a couple years later, and the place STILL smells like a poorly cleaned nursing home. It's also bachelor-pad filthy on top of that, so it's not a pleasant place to hang out.

That, and it's kind of tough to do a really thorough inventory when someone is still living in the house. Cousin Jeremiah has until the end of the month to vacate the premises. J was not having a good morning today. Based on his F-bomb laced Facebook post of last night, I'd say the old reality alarm has just gone off. This would be a lot for anyone to deal with, though. It's pretty harsh having your mother die, then your stepfather, and then be confronted with the surprise of inheriting their house with your brother and now having to deal with the home's contents, including 4 aging/sick pets. And a travel trailer in storage that needs to be sold. No idea if the house payments/taxes are currently paid. No idea whatsoever. I'm a little remorseful for all my schadenfreud of the last 15-20 years or so. We predicted this day was coming for years, but it is a little tough to watch.

Still, his very responsible brother Thad laughed at our comments this morning at Dennis' funeral/visitation and said he's been saying the same things for 20 years. So our resentment and disbelief at J's freeloading lifestyle haven't been out of line.

The last few years have definitely been marked by cleaning out the homes of people no longer capable of living in them. The Uncle Ottomar cleaning/sorting goes on as ever, and now we begin the task of cleaning out Zucker's house. And I figure these are only warm-up exercises for what we are going to face when it comes time for mom and dad Reinert's house, to say nothing of Mom's house. Is this how it goes? Is this a required part of your exit from the world? That, at some point prior or soon after your death, your home and all its contents become a burden for your family or whoever is still around who gives a crap? Seriously, does this much STUFF really need to be left behind? I get more than a little angry when I think that so much of this could have been dealt with before now. By the actual owners of the stuff, or at least the person actually living in the house. But the reality is that infirmity, inability, and good old procrastination rule the day.

Then what about the actual houses? The housing market has pretty much stayed bottomed out here in Michigan and plenty of other places. The only thing going for us is the possibility that Frankenmuth property values may be a little better because....it's Frankenmuth. Otherwise known as the Holy City, as Dad was so fond of calling that area's high opinion of itself. When it comes time to sell these properties, what then? Will there even be a buyer interested in a smelly old house? The idea of us purchasing these properties has been considered, and then with some soul-searching (and a quick hard look at the finances), rejected. Standing in Grandma and Grandpa's front yard, my brother Scott and I discussed future possibilities, and the likely scenario is that the place would be simply demolished and made way for a new, up-to-code structure. Or a parking lot for nearby businesses. And we looked at the house, and in that quiet few seconds remembered all the years of good times in that house, imagined it not being there any more, and took a tentative step toward being OK with that.

Is this how it's going to be for us? How are we going to be remembered? By all the crap we left behind for someone else to sell/recycle/throw away/recoil from in horror? I've felt for the last few years I should be doing some serious watching, learning and note-taking. And filing it all in a big End Of Life folder. Because some day I'm going to be doing all the administrative and procedural necessities Mom is doing right now. And then, sometime long after that, God willing, someone will be doing the same for us. And my wish is that my nieces and nephews or whoever it is won't be looking at thousands of empty glass jars, plastic Cool Whip containers, 20-year old barbecue sauce, and corroded cans of sauerkraut and spaghetti sauce and thinking 'for the love of God, NO WAY...'

Recent Kitchen Creations

2010-09-06T10:39:00.010-04:00

Chocolate Malt Cake

Heirloom tomato salad. Well OK, God created the tomatoes, but we added sea salt, pepper, olive oil and parsley. Love all the colors outside and inside.

Chocolate granola. By adding cocoa and unsweetened chocolate to the oil/honey mixture, substituting Emerald Dark Cocoa Roasted almonds for the plain almonds and adding a heaping cup of raw cocoa nibs, I got a pretty acceptable result. The chocolate flavor could be amped up even more, but for now we'll have some really good breakfasts while camping this week.

Peach and blueberry jam. A good friend wanted a canning tutorial, so I turned the basement kitchen into a classroom of sorts. She brought loads of Flint Farmers' Market peaches and blueberries, and we passed a very lovely afternoon catching up, enoying chips, salsa and hummus, sipping beer and producing some goodness to be enjoyed in the coming months.

Lemon Chiffon Cake

2010-08-25T09:28:00.017-04:00

An easy and good cake that has turned out well for me every time I've made it.

Adapted from Kathy Specht's 1991 Bon Apetit recipe

2 cups sifted cake flour
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup vegetable oil
8 eggs, separated
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1/4 cup water
2 1/2 tablespoons grated lemon peel
1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar

'Pixie dust':

powdered sugar
citric acid crystals (can be found in Middle Eastern markets)
grated lemon zest

Preheat oven to 325F. Sift flour, sugar, baking powder and salt into a large bowl. Using electric mixer on low speed, beat in vegetable oil, egg yolk, lemon juice, water and lemon peel. In another bowl, combine egg whites and cream of tartar. Using clean dry beaters, beat until stiff but not dry. Fold 1/4 of whites into batter to lighten. Gently fold in remaining whites.

Pour cake batter into ungreased 10 inch diameter tube pan. Tap pan on counter or run rubber spatula through cake batter to release air pockets. Bake cake until springy to touch, about 1 1/4 hours. Immediately invert cake in pan over the neck of a bottle. Cool cake completely. Run knife around pan sides to loosen cake. Transfer cake to a plate.

Pulverize about 1 tsp citric acid with a mortar and pestle. Blend with about 1/4 cup powdered sugar. Sift over cake with a fine-mesh strainer. Sprinkle additional lemon zest over. May need additional dustings, as it absorbs into the cake surface and forms a dry glaze. Don't overdo the citric acid, because it is REALLY sour.

Garnish with a lemon rose: peel a long strip from one of your zested lemons with a vegetable peeler, roll up and secure with a toothpick. Add a few mint sprigs. It's almost embarrassing how much bang you get for your buck with this. I think the garnish got more attention than the cake.

No pics of the cake sliced, sorry. By the time the potluck at work was over and the first shifters had arrived and decimated what we had not finished on third shift, all that was left were crumbs, a forlorn chunk, and a very wilted garnish.

There were quite a few user comments on the epicurious website indicating the cake alone didn't have a lot of flavor. So I came up with the tangy 'pixie dust' (remember Pixie Stix, the sour, powdered candy in the straws?). I'd like to try this again with a lemon glaze, or even a sprinkle of Limoncello liquor, or stuffing it with lemon curd. Other possibilities abound, I'm sure.

Blueberry Streuselkuchen

2010-08-07T15:02:00.005-04:00

All I did was add a single layer of berries between the dough and streusel. Hot out of oven with cold milk = bliss. Taking the rest to a neighborhood barbecue/pool party this afternoon.

'It Will Be Friday'

2010-07-22T21:57:00.002-04:00

I can now give you an answer to your question, Mary Ann. When you looked up at me and asked 'When's the funeral?', of course I played dumb and said 'whose funeral?'. I'll never forget the look you gave me. It was the most eloquent 'you idiot' I've ever seen. Well, at that time I couldn't tell you the day. I really couldn't. But we all knew it would be very soon. You knew, I knew, every adult family member knew. Hell, even the dog and the cat knew as they lay nearby taking part in the vigil.

I didn't want to know.

But now we all do, and we'll all meet Friday to hopefully give you a good and proper send off. Rest in peace, Aunt 'Zuby'.

Butterhorns Revisited

2010-07-12T17:42:00.011-04:00

When I want to be very popular at the annual Reinert family reunion, all I have to do is bake up a batch of these. These are a very traditional treat in our childhood communities/families. It had been three years since I'd made them, and lacking any other ideas of what to bring, I decided to pull out this recipe. Sadly the generation who regularly made these is passing away, or simply unable to go to the trouble any more.

Here's the recipe, as roughly copied from the June 10th 1987 newspaper clipping entitled 'Fran Rupprecht's Traditional German Recipes':

4 C all-purpose flour
4 Tb sugar
2 sticks (1 C)butter (do not substitute margarine [well, duhhh])
1 1/4 C lukewarm milk
1 cake yeast (this translates nowadays to 3 envelopes dry yeast. Each envelope is 2 1/4 teaspoons)
3 eggs, beaten

Filling:

2 C brown sugar
3 Tb flour
3 Tb evaporated milk

Frosting and 1 C walnuts, chopped

Mix the filling ingredients together. The mixture should not be runny (it should be like damp sand).

Measure the flour, sugar and butter into a 2 qt. mixing bowl. The butter should be at room temperature. Use a pastry blender to cut the butter into the flour mixture. Dissolve the yeast in the warm milk, add to the flour and butter mixture and mix well. Add the beaten eggs and mix well. Cover the bowl with waxed paper and refrigerate overnight.

Next day: Divide the dough into 6 equal parts, shaping each part into a ball, well floured. Roll the ball out on a floured board until it is 10 to 12 inches in diameter. Use a pastry cutter to cut the rolled dough into 8 wedges. Place 1/2 tsp of the filling at the side end of the wedge and roll up. Place rolls on an ungreased baking pan, cover, and let rise 1 hour. Bake in a 375 F oven 12-14 minutes. Do not overbake or let them get too brown.

Here the recipe says to frost the butterhorns with purchased Betty Crocker Sour Cream white frosting and sprinkle with chopped nuts. I chose to stir up a basic frosting of confectioners' sugar, evaporated milk and a couple tablespoons of butter. I also toasted the nuts before chopping them.

Another trick: I brushed a few drops of evaporated milk on the dough circle before placing the filling on and rolling. This helped seal everything a little better. And I don't know if this is an 'approved' method, but I carefully grasped the pointed end and gently stretched it as I rolled up the triangle. I just think the more windings, the prettier they are.

You'll want to press the filling together more tightly than I've shown (that's an old pic). Some leakage will occur, but the more neat and tight you can make these, the better they will be.

I got thanked so many times for bringing these. The ultimate compliment: they're just as good as Aunt Selma's. Her advice three years ago was to not let them rise too much (they should be small and dainty, according to Tim), and to really make them 'authentic', use hickory nuts. Those aren't all that easy to find, so I've always used walnuts.

Get some coffee or tea brewed, or have milk ready. These are really sweet.

I've been told Tim's brother Tom loves these, and he and Josie are flying out from Tucson this weekend. I think I'll be making up another batch for Saturday and Sunday breakfasts...

Angel Food Cake

2010-07-06T07:26:00.004-04:00

Yes, I finally made a decent Angel Food Cake. Tim said he wanted something 'not heavy' for dessert after our dinner of baby back ribs, cole slaw, potato salad and beer, so I thought this was worth revisiting. My Livejournal baking community suggested The Joy of Baking recipe, as well as making absolutely sure the egg whites were at room temperature. This will be my go-to recipe when I need one of these. A little sour cherry-rhubarb sauce, and wild black raspberry-rhubarb sauce, and it finished the 4th of July feast very nicely.

Banana Cake with Salted-Walnut Banana-Chip Caramel Topping

2010-07-03T10:27:00.012-04:00

I hallucinated this about two and a half years ago. While banana cake topped with plenty of cream cheese frosting is good, why not take it to new heights (or sink it to new depths, depending on how you look at it) with candied nuts, booze and fried banana chips? I finished it with a contrasting crunchy brittle topping, and refined the most recent version with a little sea salt.

I had a banana that was beyond even what I would eat (and I like 'em pretty ripe), and two more in the freezer. After a night in the lab haunted by malfunctioning instruments (actually we were troubleshooting and trying to fix things all week), and it being Independence Day Eve, I figured these were more than adequate excuses to treat myself and coworkers to cake.

The original cake recipe is from the Immanuel Lutheran Church Frankentrost Country Kitchen Cookbook. The cinnamon and liqueur were my additions. I had finally finished up the bottle of banana liqueur in the cabinet above the fridge (only took about 10 years!), but I do regularly keep Nocello around, so that's what I used.

Banana Cake

2 1/2 cups sifted cake flour (I've used all-purpose before)
1 2/3 cups sugar
1 1/4 tsp baking powder
1 1/4 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1 tsp nutmeg (I recommend freshly grated)
1 tsp cinnamon
2/3 cup shortening (I use butter)
1 1/4 cups mashed overripe banana (3 average size)
2/3 cup buttermilk
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp banana liqueur or Nocello walnut liqueur, plus more for drizzling on cake

Sift all dry ingredients into a large bowl. Cream shortening and sugar until light and fluffy. Add bananas, vanilla, eggs and liqueur. Beat 2 minutes. Add dry ingredients alternating with the buttermilk until all is blended. Pour batter into 3 greased and floured layer cake pans, or one 9 X 13 cake pan. Bake 25 to 30 minutes in layer cake pans, or 40-45 minutes in the 9 X 13 pan, until center lightly springs back when touched.

When cake comes out of oven, drizzle a few tablespoons of banana or walnut liqueur over the top. Especially on the edges, where the cake gets a little more brown and dry. Let completely cool before frosting.

Cream Cheese Frosting:

3 8-ounce bricks cream cheese, room temperature
The rest of the stick of butter you have left after measuring the 10 2/3 tablespoons for the cake, room temperature
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp banana or Nocello liqueur
Enough powdered (confectioners') sugar to make a thick frosting. I stopped at 4 cups.

Beat butter and cream cheese until completely blended. Add vanilla and liqueur and combine. Add powdered sugar gradually until frosting is smooth and desired sweetness.

Topping:

2 1/2 cups white sugar
about 2 cups walnuts, lightly toasted
1 tsp finely crushed sea salt
about 1 cup banana chips

Place the walnuts in a shallow pan and toast in the oven until lightly colored and fragrant (about 10-15 minutes). Sprinkle with pinches of salt while hot. Let cool. Have ready a large piece of parchment paper lightly greased with non-stick cooking spray on a sturdy, heatproof surface. Make a dry caramel by placing the sugar in a deep, heavy saucepan. Let it sit and melt over low heat to a dark amber. Working quickly but carefully, add the walnuts and banana chips and stir until nearly all pieces are coated. Turn mixture out onto paper and spread it out. Allow to completely cool and harden. Place mixture in large plastic bag and break into pieces/shards with a meat mallet or rolling pin. Just before serving, sprinkle pieces onto frosted cake. There will be leftovers for snacking.

Notes:

I have never tried this cake in layer pans (the original recipe did not specify the size), so I can't say how well this works that way.

That amount of frosting is more than enough for the 9 X 13 cake, but if you like a high frosting to cake ratio, put it all on.

I usually find banana chips in the bulk area of grocery stores without a problem, but naturally today, I couldn't find them. So I raided the "California Mix" in the bulk snack bins, furtively checking over my shoulder to make sure no one saw me fishing out only the banana chips.

I had a bowl of icewater nearby (a good safety suggestion from someone in my Livejournal baking community) during the topping phase of the operation. And I put leather slippers on, too. I cook barefoot a lot, probably not the brightest idea in the world.

The cake was light, almost delicate (from the cake flour), the frosting ooey-gooey creamy, and the topping hearty and crunchy. Next time I might add a little more sea salt to get a salted caramel thing going on.

Us: 1 ; Asshole Camping Neighbors: 0

2010-06-22T08:15:00.014-04:00

You hate to see it come to that, but sometimes 911 is the only thing left between you and a halfway decent salvagable night's sleep. After marching across the road at midnight Friday night and calmly asking the large group to quiet down because people were trying to sleep, thank you, Saturday night's noisy shenanigans put us over the edge. Especially since they had been repeatedly talked to by Big Bend's management twice the night before about keeping quiet. Unwilling to walk over and risk a nasty confrontation with Fred Flintstone and a trashy tattooed Wilma the second night, Tim repeatedly called the campground office, got no answer, and then dropped the big one on them (while apologizing for using 911 for a nonemergency). I missed it (I must have actually slept at various points) when the sheriff arrived and told them in no uncertain terms to quiet down.

We're not sure how many people were part of this group, but we estimated 4 couples and about 8 small children. A toddler clad in nothing but a swim diaper kept escaping the clan. I'm sure any parent is all too aware of just how fast those little legs can churn...it's actually pretty frightening to behold. I watched one of the adults break into a full sprint to catch the little squirt. I was afraid before the weekend was over we were going to witness a water search-and-rescue from the high and fast-flowing Rifle River on one side of us, or the 5-acre lake on the other.

Seriously, the loudmouth ringleader looked and sounded like Fred Flintstone. As Sharon said within an hour of them pulling in and setting up, he simply did not have an 'inside' voice. We could hear pretty much everything he said (and drunkenly sang in the wee hours) the whole time they were there. After we asked them to quiet down Friday night, we could overhear him bitching about all the 'old people' at this end of the campground (?), and declaring since he'd brought all this booze with him, he was going to drink it.

Within minutes of arriving, various members were trotting through both our campsites with abandon. After all, it was the shortest way to the bathroom building and the lake. I've never seen it written down anywhere, but there is a camping rule that says you don't traipse through peoples' sites once they are set up. You just DON'T. We had to ask several times to please stop walking through our sites. And Sharon has a dog who was probably abused before they rescued her, and is very skittish around little kids. Beyond preventing this rude annoyance, she wanted to prevent a potentially serious dog-child incident. As things turned out, it was one of their rat terriers that attacked Sharon's other dog while he was minding his own business on our side of the road. I was sure we were going to be looking for the nearest emergency clinic for stitches, because in dove Sharon to try to separate the furry, snarling mess. Luckily there were no injuries other than to Skippy's pride.

We knew we were probably in for nastiness when I saw 'Wilma' yelling at me (Me? Are you seriously yelling at me?) from about 100 feet down the road Saturday morning while we were minding our business sitting in our camp chairs. I guess since I was the only one she could see between the parked trucks, I got the benefit of her tirade which ended in 'God forbid we should walk through your sites!!'. I wondered what the rest of it was, and why she didn't feel she could come a little closer to us and say it in an 'inside' voice. Hmmm. Anyway, we got many hours of relief when the entire gang packed up and left for a day on the river. Which meant we decided to NOT go canoeing, and instead sit around, talk and drink Bone Relaxers. Tim, mom and I also seized the advantage to take naps to make up from the night before, and to prepare for another possible noisy night. We also amused ourselves watching the seagulls descend on their messy, trash-strewn campsites after they left, hoping they crapped all over everything.

One would think a Friday night of drinking and most of a hot Saturday spent on a river would tire anyone out. Well, apparently not. The evening started out quietly enough, but unbelievably they got louder with the radio and Fred talking and singing as camp quiet hour came and went. And the kicker was all of them looked pretty bright-eyed and bushy tailed come Sunday morning. Some things just aren't fair. What was even more aggravating was us observing Fred having what looked like a friendly word with the camp owner at the pig roast Saturday night, and then one with his wife Sunday morning at the pancake breakfast. Both times in our plain view. I voiced a sneaking suspicion this was calculated.

Here's the fair part of the story: Sharon followed up with an email to the campground website after we parted and went home, and this turned into a phone conversation with the owner's wife after she'd detailed our weekend. It seems these people were about to be kicked out of the campground Saturday night/Sunday morning, but given the amount of alcohol consumed and small children present, it was decided that putting them out on the road was the worst thing they could do. After being roused by our complaints two nights in a row (including by law enforcement), she told Sharon these people are not allowed back into Big Bend campground again. And the suspicion we'd had of Fred being friends with the owner? Bogus. He'd been going around telling people he'd known them for 7 years.

Full disclosure: we and our camping group have made some serious noise and done some hellacious drinking in times past. But when someone told us to quiet down, we did. And we didn't need to be told the night after that. Nor did we cop an attitude like we were the wronged party, or pull retaliatory crap.

Oh, and here's the recipe for Bone Relaxers:

(From Big Bruce's Chili Mix package insert)

1 cup vodka
1 cup peach schnapps
1 cup dark rum
1 cup orange liqueur (Triple Sec)
1 quart orange juice
1/2 gallon orange-cranberry Tropicana Twister

Makes 1 gallon and then some.

We long ago decided ice is optional, but Sharon thought up putting it in her smoothie maker with a just a little ice...and it's really good that way. Best served in a gawdy, cheap plastic flamingo or palm tree glass while camping.

And just so there's no doubt we had no hunger issues, here's the hunk of beef tenderloin we had Friday night:

I so wish I had gotten a pic of the pig when they were roasting it or carving it Saturday night. The potluck pig roast alone is worth a weekend camping trip to this place.

Homemade Granola

2010-06-21T19:33:00.005-04:00

This gets made at least a couple times a summer for camping trips. The recipe makes a lot, so there is plenty to share with your camping group, or to enjoy when you get home. Not too sweet, and easy to customize (I can see coconut haters wanting to leave that out...and you certainly could, but I've witnessed coconut haters eating anyway with full disclosure that it's in there). The one change I make is substituting whole toasted almonds for the cashews. The cashews would probably be good, but I've always thought almonds fit a little better. And are slightly less fattening. Either way, a good hike or paddle in a canoe or kayak will easily burn off the calories.

Sometimes I need to let it go a little longer than 45 minutes to get it nice and brown. Keep checking on it every 15 minutes or so, and pull it when it looks good to you. I'm thinking of concocting a chocolate version of this later this summer.

No Bake Cookies

2010-06-11T19:37:00.008-04:00

How many things have the near-instant gratification of a No-Bake? Within a half hour of walking in the door from work, I was popping one of these into my mouth.

I claimed for years that I could not make these. I had created runny piles of goo the first time I tried these, and the time after that. So I just didn't try any more. Probably better off without the high calorie temptation anyway.

But then the topic came up at work again (the hospital cafeteria actually makes a pretty good No-Bake...one of the few things I see people bringing into the break room for their lunches that isn't deep fried or just plain gross). And I got a craving, so I thought I'd try them again. I was so happy with a successful batch I went so far as to challenge a coworker to a No-Bake throwdown Friday night. Not so much for competition as to have twice as many to eat.

Two things: use quick cooking oatmeal like the recipe says. Unless you like the manly texture of old fashioned oats. Not bad, but I felt a bit like a horse chewing my first batch. And I think I just needed to review what really is boiling. When it says boil, it means boil. Not simmer. No runny piles of goo this time!

I used Aunt Mary's recipe:

Part A:

2 cups sugar
3 tb unsweetened cocoa
1/2 cup margarine (I used butter)
1/2 cup milk
dash of salt

Part B:

3 cups quick-cooking oats
1/2 cup peanut butter
1 tsp vanilla extract

Bring ingredients in part A to a rapid boil. Boil for 1 minute, then add ingredients in part B (have ingredients in part B measured and ready to dash into cooked mixture). Mix well (working quickly). Drop by spoonfuls onto waxed paper.

PS: Tastes just as good without the cocoa. Add a little extra vanilla for peanut butter cookies instead of chocolate.

Extremely Dim But Cute

2010-06-08T09:39:00.001-04:00

Storm Damage

2010-06-06T07:56:00.002-04:00

Random Thoughts

2010-06-01T18:59:00.012-04:00

---This may quite possibly be the ugliest car I've ever seen. Right up there with the Element, Aztek and Pacer. I saw one in the parking lot at work, and I actually stopped to look at it. No, I really don't care what its gas mileage is, or how many green or consumer-friendly features it might have. I looked back at my bug-spattered 10-year old gas-slurping Chevy truck with the 'Pray For Our Troops' sticker on the tailgate. And I wanted to blow it a kiss.

---Yes, I'm being an obstinate throwback when it comes to looking around for a vehicle to eventually replace my truck. Because I don't want to. Nanner nanner. If GM could come up with something slightly smaller than my truck, something that looks just like my truck (OK, maybe with some updated lines), something that wouldn't make me ashamed to be seen in it, and that has a heated steering wheel and gets 40mpg, then I might muster some feeling.

---I was pushing my shopping cart through Meijer's with no small amount of pride this morning. Yep, it was piled high with honeydew melon, bananas, strawberries, apricots, dark leafy greens, Cheerios, high-fiber tortillas, bok choy, mushrooms... Oh yeah, I felt quite justified in smugly smiling at the man behind me with a dozen bottles of neon-colored Power-Ade in his cart.

---Did I mention the Ball-Park hot dogs in my cart? Because at the same time I've been considering that I ought to start coming up with some meatless entrees for the week, life at home has been a careening, out-of-control red meat wagon. Sirloin-cheddar burgers Thursday and Friday, pot roast Saturday (very nice Lone Oak dinner-concert, thank you Scott & Ann), rib-eye steaks on Sunday. And today: Wurst salad. I had to look up a recipe to see what was in it. What are traditional ingredients? Can I eat it after 11am? I don't believe I've ever even had it before. Possibly in 2003 in Germany. Finally, I said to hell with all the various recipes, I'm going to start mixing stuff. With disturbing suddenness, hot dog-pickle-onion-vinegar-mustard was just THE THING.

---At least I bought white turkey hot dogs and not regular franks or sausages. Hey, they were on sale, and fat free. Almost begged me to buy them. We're just not even going to think about the sodium content of the salad. I'll cram a pile of dark leafy greens in my face tonight at dinner to balance it out.

---Oh yeah, and I wonder where the old cholesterol is going to dial in after this little festival of meat *counts 10 days until yearly physical*.

---In some ways it's good to know some things never change. However, this morning as we observed three first shifters hunched over a copy of the schedule, trying to figure out where the hell they were supposed to work, it's obvious some things really ought to change. It seems a first-shifter, notorious for finagling ways to get rid of the few days she actually does clock in, engineered a complicated *5-WAY* trade so that she could get today off. And didn't write any of it on the schedule, and didn't bother to contact the poor girl on the bottom of this pile, who now was faced with working an area of the Microbiology department for which she had absolutely no training. This woman has gotten away with more call-ins, meanderings away from her department, laziness and byzantine schedule changes than anyone for the last TWO DECADES.

---Oh, and caramelizing onions DOES work in the slow cooker. I got a chance to try it Memorial Day weekend when I had three glorious days off to mess around and get stuff done at home. It took 15 hours on low, takes more butter than I would normally care to use, and they're not quite as good as when done in a pan on the stovetop, but it gets the job done with minimal interaction.

---I flipped the page on a calendar at work last night to June, and there was a gorgeous painting of Conquistador Isle in the Grand Canyon. Made me get all nostalgic for our raft trip exactly 2 years ago.

130AM

2010-05-28T01:41:00.000-04:00

Just because I can.

Rhubarb and Custard Tart

2010-05-22T09:40:00.026-04:00

Maybe(?!) I'm weird, but when I see the words 'rhubarb custard pie', my brain wants to put an 'and' between the rhubarb and the custard. Because I've never been fond of a pie that looks like it's pink celery with eggs broken into it and baked. Bleh. Yes, once you get past that, it can be tasty, but personally I want a distinct creamy custard component, and a distinct tangy rhubarb component. And I want to get rid of the celery look of the rhubarb.

I had a sack full of red rhubarb from my parents-in-law I had cooked down to a puree (about an hour or so). We've been steadily uprooting the booger-green rhubarb in our patch and replacing it with this nice red stuff, so we can grow our own. It looked like pink applesauce, and I added just enough sugar to take the astringent bite out of it.

I was tempted to add strawberries to it. I really was. I know strawberry and rhubarb go well together, and they often buddy up in the same dessert, but I wanted to see if I could get something where rhubarb alone was the star. I'm honestly trying to find more ways to like it other than as a secret agent hidden among other fruits.

I had some tart crust dough in the freezer, leftover from another recipe:

1 cup butter, softened
1 cup + 2 tbsp castor sugar
3 eggs
4 ½ cups flour

Method:
Cream butter and sugar together until smooth. Add eggs one at a time followed by flour. Roll the dough into balls and wrap in a cling wrap. Leave to chill in the refrigerator for 2 hours before rolling in a tart pan.

It's a decent, sturdy crust. Almost cookie-like. It did shrink just a tiny bit as it baked. As you can guess, it makes enough for two tarts and then some, (I used my 12-inch pan) plus excess. I baked a 12-inch tart blind 20 minutes at 350 F, using foil and lupini beans as pastry weights. Then roughly another 10 minutes without the weights until golden. In my opinion, this is about all lupini beans are good for. Since buying them and experiencing their ridiculous bitterness years ago, I've learned there is a 'sweet' variety that does not contain so many alkaloid compounds. But I think you still have to soak those for about 92 days or something like that to make them edible. So incredibly not worth it.

I digress...

Here is the
vanilla custard recipe I used, only I substituted a section of split and scraped vanilla bean for the extract. Since I'm lucky enough to have a few of them around, and I like those little black flecks. The recipe didn't say to strain it, but I do every time I make custard. I had to remove the vanilla bean pieces anyway, and it seems there are those few weird little eggy bits lurking in there every time. I don't know if that's a reflection of technique, or just the way custard is.

It looks like it ought to be lemon, but the color comes from the deep golden yolks of some home-raised eggs, courtesy of a generous coworker. I let it cool to about room temperature before placing it in the cooled crust.

I had enough vanilla custard for the 12-inch tart, plus a little left over. I took about 3 cups of the rhubarb puree, added about 2-3 tablespoons cornstarch while it was cold, and then brought it to a simmer until it thickened. I let that cool to room temp. I did have to add about another quarter cup sugar, because it really was sour. Then I carefully spooned a layer on top of the custard. I chilled the whole thing for about 10 hours before garnishing with a bouquet of violets tied with a strip of rhubarb.

And the finished tart was a little soft and gushy, but otherwise...pretty good. I didn't want to add any more corn starch than necessary to the custard or rhubarb. In a cooking class, we were told by an experienced chef that starch muddies flavors. Maybe adding pectin to the rhubarb and making more of a jam that sets up a little firmer? More tweaks and experimenting may be necessary.

Vidalia Onion Pizza

2010-05-16T06:51:00.027-04:00

I can't believe I haven't posted this recipe here. I'll post a more extensive tutorial version of this in a baking community I joined on Livejournal. It's May, and the Vidalias are on sale in the grocery stores, and I'll probably be making this several more times.

This is actually more like a flatbread, because it's not loaded up with toppings and sauce. It's about the caramelized onions and the chewy wheatiness of the crust.

I make all my pizza dough without really measuring. I've done it that way for years, and gotten consistently good results. But I do start with known amount of water. I figure a generous cup of water for every 14-inch pizza I'm going to make. So if I'm really jonesing for these, and it's not going to bother me to be working on these for hours, here are approximately the ingredients for 4 (which can be halved or quartered as necessary):

4 cups water, warmed to 110 to 115 F
4 spoonfuls of honey, dissolved in the water
Enough yeast to sprinkle over the top of the water. About 4 teaspoons or so
4 2-3 tablespoon pours of olive oil
4 tablespoons sea salt, (if coarse, crush it with a mortar and pestle so it dissolves faster)
About a cup of yellow cornmeal (I like the structure it gives)
Enough all-purpose flour to make a dough that will hold together well enough for kneading, roughly one third of that whole wheat.

Pour the water and honey in a large bowl, and sprinkle the yeast over it. Let the yeast dissolve and get foamy. Add the olive oil and corn meal and stir. Begin adding the flour, stirring to dissolve. Add the salt while you still have a moist slurry. Add just as much flour as it takes to form a dough...no more. You'll be adding a little more as you knead. I like my curved bowl scraper to start folding flour into the mix as it gets thicker.

Knead the dough for 10 minutes. When smooth and elastic, divide half or quarters, and place in ziploc bags containing a bit of olive oil. Seal them and pop them in the fridge for a day or three. A minimum of one day. The flavor and structure are so much better.

For the topping, take about a dozen (at least) Vidalia or sweet onions. I suppose I could slice them in my food processor, but perversely I'm too lazy to haul it up from the basement, and I want slices, not bits. Since you're going to be cooking these nearly down to goo, you need to start with fairly decent size pieces. So I stand there and slice them into half-rings by hand, and cry and cry.

That's Grandma Kueffner's big green Tupperware bowl filled with sliced onions.

You'll also need:

8 to 12 ounces Mascarpone cheese, room temperature
Ground sea salt and black pepper
Olive oil (something plain for sauteeing, and preferably something green and fruity for topping). I've been fairly impressed with Costco's Kirkland brand recently, of all things
Thinly sliced green or spring onion tops
Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese (the real stuff)

Once you've got the onions sliced, take the largest skillet or pan you have, heat a couple tablespoons of olive oil (nothing fancy needed for this part), and begin adding onions. I've found the best tool for the job is my old T-Fal wok, which basically has no nonstick coating left any more. Saute' the onions on high, and keep adding as the onions cook down. Believe it or not, they all will fit. Salt and pepper the onions as you go.

Since there are so many, the pan is going to fill with juice. It may also depend on how much moisture the onions happen to contain. I have to fight the temptation to drain off the juice so they will caramelize faster. Don't. The soupy stuff will evaporate eventually. Lower the heat to medium high, and keep stirring and checking. After 2 1/2 hours, you will get a golden brown, sweet, jammy onion goo.

Take the dough out of the fridge, and divide it into four equal pieces. Each piece should weigh about 20 ounces. Form them into balls, pulling and tucking the rough edges under, making a smooth dome. Place on a square of parchment paper (14 to 15 inches wide).

Spread the dough into 14-inch rounds on the paper, pushing from the center. Use a little olive oil for your hands if necessary.

Dab and smear the mascarpone cheese onto the dough. I didn't quite have enough this time because I'd already gotten into the container for something else, so I cut it with a little light cream cheese. A little sour cream would work, too. If more moisture is desired, go ahead and smear on sour cream or creme fraiche. Too much mascarpone will make the pizzas greasy, but you want enough to get a rich butteriness. Divide the caramelized onions among the dough rounds. Drizzle with a small amount of olive oil and top with salt and pepper. I added a dusting of grated Parmigiano-Reggiano.

One of my favorite kitchen tools ever is my Lodge 14-inch cast iron pizza pan. A large pizza stone would work, too. Or if you're lucky enough to just have a pizza oven handy... Heat the oven with the pan placed in the middle (with no oven racks above it) to 475 F.

Let the pizzas rise a bit while the oven is heating. With a pizza peel, transfer one pizza with the parchment paper onto the pan in the oven and bake 18 to 20 minutes. I have baked two at a time before, but the one on the lower rack tends to burn like hell. So I bake one at a time.

Of course you'll be using an oven mitt for safety, just like you see me doing *ahem*.

Carefully remove pizzas with the paper at the end of baking and let cool slightly. Slide out the parchment and discard. Sprinkle with the green onions. That's the simplest version I make. Because it's spring, and I can now step outside and pick fresh herbs, I added some oregano, chives and thyme. But additions of smoky crumbled bacon, walnuts, blue cheese, goat cheese, feta, dates, or whatever else that looks good at the time could be added before you put them in the oven.

Room temperature thin slivers of these make an awesome appetizer. These have gone over very well at beer-tastings and large family gatherings. Reheat leftover slices on the same cast iron pan on the stovetop, covered with a lid. Gets nice and crispy.

Vacation Pics

2010-05-07T08:47:00.003-04:00

We used Snapfish. Haven't done this in a while, so I hope it works. Enjoy!

Ofen Suppe (Oven Soup)

2010-05-01T13:20:00.003-04:00

One of my favorite souvenirs from a vacation is not necessarily a thing, but an idea. This is a soup we were served in the beautiful Dresden home of the lovely Ulla Weber and her mother Elisabeth, close friends of Ellen's parents. I was handed a spoon and invited to sample the contents of a pot before we left for a day of sightseeing in the city.

It was sweet and sour, rich, tomatoey, and full of meat and veggies. It's basically things from cans, with the addition of pineapple (yes, pineapple) and meat. I think the version we had contained beef. It was one those things that you just have to taste without thinking about it too much. It was totally delicious. It was somehow familiar, but I don't remember having anything like it before. Served with white asparagus salad and bread, it was a nice ending to a long day.

In order to more or less replicate it, I found a couple recipes on line, and made a version more or less combining these two:

Ofen Suppe

Oven Soup

I used:

about 1.5 pounds of pork steak, trimmed of fat and bone, and cut into small pieces
1 yellow onion, finely diced
about 2 cups finely diced fresh pineapple
2 8 ounce cans mushrooms, drained
2 6 ounce cans tomato paste
1 can green peas
1 29 ounce can tomato sauce
1 32 ounce container beef broth
1 bottle of chili sauce
about a cup of Heinz ketchup
a heaping tablespoon Madras hot curry powder
about a half cup of finely diced jarred cherry peppers
about a cup of heavy cream

Brown the pork pieces in a little butter. The recipes don't say to do this, but we know browned food is far tastier than unbrowned food. I also salted and peppered the batches of meat as I went. I sauteed the onion. Then I dumped everything into a slow cooker (I didn't see why I couldn't use this option). I deglazed the pan with some of the tomato sauce and broth, too, and added that.

I let it go in the slow cooker for about 4 hours stirring occasionally, and it smells wonderful. I'm not sure I want to know how much sodium and fat are in it, but it really doesn't matter. It's a pretty close approximation.

Rote Grutze!

2010-05-01T10:28:00.009-04:00

Adapted from this recipe for the fruit, and this recipe for the vanillesauce.

Since we didn't actually get to eat any in Germany, and we forgot the store-bought, prepackaged portions at Ellen's flat when we left, I decided to make some myself.

I used a combination of sour cherries, red raspberries, sliced strawberries, and for an American twist, a bag of frozen cranberries. And I added about two cups of sliced rhubarb from the back yard. I used a couple tablespoons more sugar because of the cranberries and rhubarb.

I also added a scraped fragment of a vanilla bean to the milk, in addition to the extract at the end, because I love seeing the little black specks in vanilla sauce. Tells me it's really vanilla.

Ya know, this really is freaking good. And simple to make. Just watch out for the splatter from the fruit when it comes to a boil. I think I need to dunk my white bathrobe in 'Spray & Wash' before I throw it in the washing machine. Of course a white garment is the ideal garb for cooking anything red, right??

It's Baaaaaaaaaa-aaaaack!

2010-04-30T11:13:00.000-04:00

Luggage? Who Needs Luggage?

2010-04-19T18:36:00.001-04:00

Bunny Rolls

2010-04-05T11:26:00.012-04:00

I found a yellowed magazine page clipping in Grandma Kueffner's old recipes. She's got 'Good! Easter '97 and '98' written on it, but it seems like she had been making these years before that. So I'm not sure if this is the original bunny roll, but I decided to make them this year.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rolls to start the night before Easter

Make dough a night ahead and refrigerate. Create uniquely shaped, oven-fresh rolls the day of your dinner. The dough is easy to shape; it rises quickly--about 10 minutes at room temperature. An egg glaze gives the rolls a shiny, golden top.

6 1/2 to 7 cups all-purpose flour
2 packages RED STAR Active Dry Yeast or QUICK RISE Yeast
1/2 cup sugar
2 teaspoons salt
2 cups water
1/3 cup butter or margarine
2 eggs (room temperature)
1 egg, slightly beaten
1 tablespoon water

Oven 400F. Makes 36 rolls

In large bowl, combine 2 1/2 cups flour, yeast, sugar and salt; mix well. Heat 2 cups water and butter until very warm (120-130F; butter does not need to melt). Add to flour mixture. Add 2 eggs. Blend at low speed until moistened; beat 3 minutes at medium speed. By hand, gradually stir in enough remaining flour to make a soft dough. Knead on floured surface until smooth and elastic, about 5 minutes. Place in greased bowl, turning to grease top. For QUICK RISE Yeast, allow to set 5-10 minutes before placing in refrigerator. Cover. Refrigerate 6-12 hours.

When dough is chilling, punch down as needed. Divide into 4 parts. Shape one part at a time. Refrigerate remaining dough until ready to use. Place rolls 2-3 inches apart on greased cookie sheets. Combine egg and water; gently brush rolls. Cover; let rise at room temperature until almost doubled (approx. 10 minutes). Bake at 400F for 8-10 minutes until golden brown. Serve warm or cold.

The recipe then goes on to describe how to roll each part into 9 balls, and roll the balls into ropes: 18 inches for the 'side view' bunny, cutting 10 inches for body, 5 for head and 1 for tail and ears. For 'back view', roll each ball into 14 inch rope. Lap one end of rope over other to form a loop. Bring end underneath up over top end, letting ends extend to each side for ears. Shape into ears.

Dough may be formed into traditional forms, i.e. knots, cloverleaf, swirls.

Nutritious variation: Substitute 1/2 of white flour amount with whole wheat flour.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I didn't do any of the rope stuff. I took my bench scraper and whacked each part into 9 sections, then cut pieces accordingly for body, head, tail, ears. I'm pretty sure that's all Grandma ever did, too. Roll the pieces, smoothing and pulling and pinching the underside to make smooth, tight sections.

She never used whole wheat flour, but I used whole wheat for the first 2 1/2 cups of flour. The rest was white. And I might cut back on the sugar slightly next time, too.

Next time I would be sure to place bunnies on the pans so that their ears are pointing inward, and not near the edges of the pan--anything near the edges browns much more quickly. I needed to turn and shift pans during baking. But they turned out addictively soft, sweet and good, and I remember why we ate dozens of these every Easter growing up.

Not That I'm Condoning Any Of This

2010-04-01T00:54:00.011-04:00

I rented Inglourious Basterds purely because I had a coupon for a free movie that expired on March 31st. Coupon for something free?? Gotta use it! And I'll admit I was a little curious about this film ever since I saw the trailer last year. Even though seeing the veiled gore in that made me swear I'd never watch it. Turns out it was actually entertaining. And like a horrible car accident, you just know you're going to look. It would be a good movie to watch if you're in one of those moods after a bad day at work, or just feeling full of piss and vinegar. Kind of like the 'Kill Bill' movies.

I don't suppose I could possibly use the excuse that I was studying the nuances of German accents in preparatory to visiting that country...? No, I didn't think so.

Speaking of resistance, rebellion and sedition, we were quite amused to find out every yearly Reinert reunion we chat with one of the players in a recent national news story:

Where 9th Hutaree Suspect Hid Out

Mistrust of Authority Shared

Bob Dudley's wife is Tim's cousin.

Streuselkuchen

2010-03-20T19:15:00.011-04:00

I made 4 of these this week alone. Two for a bake sale, and two more for a Friday treat for Tim's coworkers and family distribution. And home use.

White flour, white sugar and butter: so what's the big deal?

The big deal is that this stuff is unexpectedly addictive. It's not quite as dramatic as Anton Ego's flashback in 'Ratatouille', but biting into this conjured memories of Grandma Kueffner's yeast doughnuts and the yeast rolls she shaped into bunnies for Easter. And I must have done something right, because a coworker reported that her German-born husband declared this to be almost as good as his mother's Streuselkuchen.

This is Ellen's recipe (for the plain cake--fruit can be added as desired). It comes together quickly, especially if she buys you that nice little digital scale from IKEA.

500 g flour (plus some extra if the dough gets sticky)
1 package active dry yeast or 1 cake fresh yeast
¼ Litre milk, warm, but not hot
60 g Butter
2 eggs
3-4 tbsp sugar
1 pinch of salt

Streusel:
300 g flour
250 g butter
150-200 g sugar
pinch of cinnamon
1 tbsp of vanilla sugar

Dissolve sugar in warm (110-115F) milk. Proof yeast in milk. Place flour and salt in large mixing bowl. Add milk yeast mixture along with melted butter and lightly beaten eggs. Mix until dough comes together. Knead 5-10 minutes. Cover and let double, or refrigerate overnight (I prefer the overnight rise for all my yeast doughs for more flavor and yeastiness).

For streusel, combine all ingredients in a large bowl and blend using pastry cutter until crumbly. It looks like a lot. And it is. That's a good thing.

Spread dough in jelly roll pan which has been greased or lined with parchment paper. I actually use both---the grease (shortening) sticks the paper in the pan, and the paper helps with removal after baking. Sprinkle streusel evenly over dough and let rise until puffy. Bake 350F for 30 minutes, or until golden.

I used jarred sour Morello cherries. I poked depressions into the dough and stuck the cherries in before burying it all in streusel. I'm told plums can be spread on top, too. That makes me wonder what the possibilities would be if you took things like blueberries or jam or lemon curd or Nutella...

Double Chocolate Scones

2010-03-10T07:42:00.012-05:00

I've thought of making chocolate scones before, but never done it. Until bake sale frenzy prompted me to do so, and test the prototype on my coworkers. I suppose I could have searched through online recipe sites for what I wanted, but sometimes when you know what you want, it just makes more sense to plunge ahead and do it. I didn't want white scones with chocolate chips, and I didn't want a pale brown chocolate wanna-be thing. I wanted some significant chocolate on chocolate action.

The recipe is loosely based on a cranberry scone I found a couple years ago on Design Sponge here.

Those cranberry scones are wonderful just the way they are. What really intrigued me was the way spices get layered into the dough, creating a sedimentary look and flaky sections in the scone.

Here are my adaptations/substitutions:

--Instead of 3 cups of flour, use 2 1/2 cups, and add 1/2 cup cocoa powder, preferably good quality and dark.

---Instead of a cup of cranberries, substitute about 3/4 cup semisweet chocolate chips. Unbelievably, the whole cup almost seemed like too many in the final baked scone.

---Eliminate the cinnamon and nutmeg (although you could create some interesting flavored scones by leaving them in).

---I used the entire egg to brush the tops. Sometimes I just don't feel like separating an egg. And the dark brown color of the scones conceals any yellow from the yolk anyway.

---Have about 1/2 cup grated bittersweet chocolate on hand. This is what you will sprinkle on the dough in place of the spices when you are doing the folding.

---Have a little extra cocoa powder on hand to dust your work surface when kneading/folding in case the dough sticks.

A few of the scones became a bit misshapen, because the grated chocolate melted and the layers sort of slithered apart. Which did not affect the flavor, they just weren't quite pretty tidy triangles, so they were culled from the bake sale offerings. Instead, they went to the noble causes of taste testing and quality control. These are quite soft when they come out of the oven from all the melted chocolate, but they do solidify upon cooling. Something I didn't bother waiting for when I tasted them.

New Exercise Toy

2010-03-02T08:22:00.005-05:00

From a big box sitting in the front hall for a few days, and then this:

To this(obviously our work needed to be supervised):

To this!

We love it. It's sooooooo QUIET. And it makes me sweat. A lot.

So that damned menopot can just disappear any day now.

Random Rant

2010-02-27T02:38:00.020-05:00

---Is anyone else sick of Lindsey Vonn (and her pinkie)? I suppose it's the same thing every two years with the Olympics: the media picks out its darlings ahead of time so they create all the special interest features that fill in the spaces, while all the other extremely talented(but not worth the time of day to the TV networks) athletes compete. And ya gotta love how the darlings are already lined up for spots on Jay Leno's show next week. Finish this race after missing a gate? (a male commentator gushing 'which of her MYRIAD injuries is responsible for this??')Nah, why bother---I'm already on the Leno show!

---When is Metro PCS going to get in trouble for racial stereotyping? Their latest radio commercials sound like white guys putting on fake Indian accents, and the TV commercials show what look like stereotypical Indian computer help-desk guys.

---Unless we've actually turned a corner, and possibly NO ONE is going to get offended by this, or see anything politically incorrect, and we can just treat these as more dumb commercials/background noise and move on.

---Speaking of offensive commercials, anything that shows someone licking her fingers is deeply, ickily disturbing to me. And any full-on view of tongue while eating. There may in fact be quite a number of people who DO want to see Heidi Klum giving a BJ to a container of yogurt and coating her fingers with saliva/oral bacteria, but I personally do not.

Same goes for those Warm Delights commercials (damn it, can't find the one I mean on YouTube!). Because we never see these unsanitary twits wash their hands afterwards. For that matter, why do you need to buy an overpackaged, overpriced dessert? With a cheap box of cake mix, a handful of chocolate chips, some milk, a bowl and a microwave, you can easily have the same damned thing for a fraction of the cost. Many times over. Accompanied by a nice porter or stout.

---OK, I'm confused. I always thought church was a place to go to worship God in the company of other people who believe roughly the same things you do. Apparently, church is so much more than that. Not only is it a great social club, it's also a place to get your earthly self-worth validated. How did I find this out? It seems when mom told the pastor of her new church the latest chapter in the Great Kidney Kaper, in which one of her sons declares his intent to donate an organ to his brother, his response was 'boy, you must have done something right.' And her reaction, as gushily told to me? 'I just LOVE that church!!'

---I saw the above coming. Yes, I did. Not the exact scenario, but the idea of someone so breezily taking credit for the personal decision of her grown adult child. I'm not sure why I'm so irritated. And I'm irritated by my own irritation (and the fact that I feel like I'm spreading vitriol and malcontent by even mentioning it). Kidney envy, maybe? I realize that yes, the potential donor was raised right. And that there is no statute of limitations on being a parent. And I'm not a mother, so I am admittedly clueless as to what the classiest behavior would be if an offspring does something noteworthy. But still...!

---What do you suppose the response would be if I countered the subject (oh, I have a feeling it will come up again) with, 'Well if you use that logic, then Grandma Zucker and Grandma Kueffner deserve credit for this, too. Riiiiiight?'

---The joys of perimenopause: when you consider that the ibuprofen you take will ease both your aching hip, and the pain of the giant zit on your chin.

Moist Multi-grain Bread

2010-02-20T14:00:00.005-05:00

I started with about 2 1/2 cups of 110F water, and added a serving spoon full of honey. I put in about 3 tsp yeast, and let it bloom.

Then I started adding good stuff: about a half cup of bulgur soaked in 1 cup warm water, about a cup each of rye flour, whole wheat flour, and oat flour (old fashioned oats ground in a food processor), about half a cup of millet, a quarter cup cornmeal, a few tablespoons of wheat bran and about a tablespoon of crushed kosher salt. To this very sticky mixture, I started adding white flour just until it held together well enough to knead. A good 10 minute knead, adding more flour as necessary, and then an overnight cold proof in the fridge, well-covered with plastic wrap.

Next day, I shaped it into long loaves, let them rise on cornmeal-dusted parchment paper, and docked them with a floured knife. I baked them at 400F for 40 minutes, until the interior was 190-ish. I wanted a good crust, so I put a 9X13 pan filled with water in bottom of the oven.

Didn't even wait for them to cool. This was pretty much our lunch: steaming hunks ripped off the loaf, either with butter or olive oil. Butter was best. Yum.

Milk Chocolate-Caramel Tart with Hazelnuts and Espresso

2010-02-15T01:49:00.008-05:00

I tried this for Valentine's Day. Here is the recipe from the latest Bon Apetit magazine. A little work to make, but worth it. I just happened to be fortunate enough to have some cacao nibs in the pantry from Whole Foods, and I always have espresso powder in the house for baking, so it was a done deal. If you like crunchy-creamy, salty-sweet things, this is for you. It's like a candy bar in a crust.

I think this would be just as good without the cocoa nibs, but they really echo the crunch and nuttiness of the hazelnuts embedded in the caramel.

I already have three tart pans in the house, so I wasn't about to run out and search for the size the recipe calls for. I used an 8 by 11 inch pan, so the finished tart is definitely thinner.

And maybe someone can give me some tips on caramel making. I swear, the whole 'brush down sides of pan with a wet pastry brush' thing seems to result in an even crustier crystal mess on the sides of the pan while the sugar and water are cooking. I wonder if I'm better off just swirling the pan and not touching anything. But I got the job done, and the result was absolutely delicious.

This tart holds together very well. Very thin slices are wonderfully sturdy. So it makes a perfect 'I'll just have a tiny sliver'(repeat as necessary) type of dessert.

Sometimes Darwin's Theories Just Don't Work Fast Enough

2010-02-14T09:19:00.005-05:00

My coworker and I are minding our own business, trying to keep up with a very heavy Saturday night emergency room workload, when in walks a woman whom I've never seen before. She's wearing scrubs and has a name badge just like us, so we know it's another employee. Our general demeanor is 'what can we help you with?'

"I have a really stupid question." she says. At this time I notice her skin is a shade somewhere between our oak kitchen cabinets at home and that weird crayon in your box you had as a kid called 'burnt umber'. Since it's smack in the middle of February, I can only conclude she has been feverishly worshipping that tanning bed with holy roller enthusiasm, or recently spent a very long vacation somewhere around the equator, sans sunscreen. The probable natural shade of her skin was apparent when she relaxed her squint wrinkles.

I said something to the effect of 'oh, it's not stupid. What do you need to know?'

Well, after a rambling tale of how she normally works first shift, and how a patient in the observation area wanted to be able to go outside to smoke, she said she had loaned her identity badge to this man.

'No...' we said.

'Oh yes.' she said. And now Security has deactivated her badge, because of the possible compromise to the safety of the building.

Could we please, please let her use one of OUR badges to go to the outdoor employee smoking area (the Butt Hut) so she can grab a smoke?

Ummmm..........no.

"Well, we aren't going to repeat YOUR mistake." I said. To my coworker's delight, who had turned her back to continue working and hide her laughter. However, we have a general all-purpose badge here in the ER lab for getting into the staff bathroom, and in the doors. I suppose we could let you have that.

"Oh thank you!" she cries.

And hugs me.

I was too shocked to do anything but stand there stiffly while she put her hands on me and pressed her ciggy-smelling gray sweatshirt against my person. I handed her the badge and watched her walk out, wondering if we were going to see our badge again, wondering if we'd done the right thing, and wondering if I should have said exactly what I thought.

But you know, sometimes there just ain't no cure for stupid. And I truly hope I helped her enjoy her smoke out there in the freezing cold night, and I hope she deeply inhaled those cigarette fumes into each and every one of her alveoli. And I am simply not going to think about the idea of even one cent of my increasing health insurance premiums going to pay for oxygen, a lung transplant, hospitalization, chemo, surgery or anything else that might possibly be in this woman's future. With a little luck, nature will take its course and none of that will be necessary.

Random Thoughts

2010-02-09T19:10:00.009-05:00

---I wish the people at Joint Commission would take a break from making bench techs' work hours a living hell of documentation. Only one example of recent citations: pregnancy tests. After YEARS of simply putting a check mark to indicate that the internal QC is acceptable (a colored line appears) suddenly that isn't good enough. Oh no, now we have to write out 'Pos' and 'Neg' to document that yes, the colored line appeared in the control area, and yes, the background is clear/white. Now new forms need to be designed, and even more hand slapping results if we fail to fill them out properly.

---Recent favorite things: Pinata apples, Larry's Beans Cowboy Blend, and Three Floyds Dark Lord Imperial Stout, and Underarmour socks.

---What is the proper etiquette for when you notice someone pulled over, getting sick in the entrance to your subdivision? When I pulled up to exit the sub to go to work, all I saw was a stopped car, a driver bent over, and the dome light on. After I got out of the truck and started to approach, and asked 'Is everything OK?' did I see what precisely had occured. 'Nah, she's just getting sick,' said the male passenger. Alrighty then...

---Yeah, and which is worse? If the weather stays in the single digits and that odd-colored little puddle stays there for weeks, or if it warms up?

---OK, personal WORST Raynaud's episode ever last Friday morning. 8 out of 10 fingers white and numb. Try typing with that. And it was a reasonably balmy 27 out, too. Then about an hour later when the circulation came back, it felt like my hands were buried in a bucket of pins. Like they'd been asleep for hours. No idea why it was so bad this time. I have yet to figure out why it only happens in the mornings. Maybe it was the combination of the cold and the extreme, horrific mental duress of the prospect of house-cleaning.

---I got more spectator sports in this last weekend than in the previous few years of my life. A nephew's wrestling meet on Friday, and Superbowl on Sunday.

---This is so damned pathetically girly, but I'll admit it: a guy in a toolbelt running in to the rescue just makes my whole day. Even if I eventually found the main water shut-off and the tiny cap on the deionized water system myself, and eliminated the new scenic attractions in the lab (a geyser and a lake!), just knowing a call to B&G will send someone in seconds to try to solve the problem...well, that's just how it should be.

Sugar Cookies

2010-01-25T10:28:00.005-05:00

This is a Grandma Zucker recipe. They are called 'Edith's Sugar Cookies', and I have no idea what cookbook they came from. But it was the go-to sugar cookie back in the day.

1 C granulated sugar
1/2 C powdered sugar
1/2 C brown sugar
1 C shortening
1 C oil
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
4 C flour (at times, may have to add another 1/4 cup or so)
1 tsp cream of tartar
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt

Sift or mix with a wire whisk: flour, powdered sugar, cream of tartar, soda and salt. Cream granulated and brown sugars with the shortening. Add eggs, oil and vanilla. Add the dry mix to the creamed mixture and mix until combined. Dough will be very soft. Refrigerate if needed. Form into small balls and roll in granulated sugar. Flatten with bottom of glass or hand or fork. Bake 10 minutes at 350 F.

Tweaks:

I usually make these with half butter and half shortening. All butter makes them too rich and fragile (not that they aren't already melt-in-your-mouth rich). I also added a little vanilla sugar to the rolling sugar.

These brown very quickly: as little as 30 seconds one way or the other can make a difference. I seem to remember Grandma's being very pale, but by no means underdone. I'm pretty sure she used all shortening. She also used something like a meat fork to flatten the balls, which resulted in a squiggly 'M' shape atop each cookie.

Constructively Coping

2010-01-15T10:12:00.002-05:00

Chocolate-Chocolate chunk with Valrhona cocoa nibs-Upset about Haiti-It's Friday-Gotta work the weekend-It's halfway through January-Don't know jack about dialysis-Upset about kidney failure 700 miles away-Pancakes.

I Find Your Lack Of Faith Disturbing

2010-01-12T03:37:00.009-05:00

I've had some strange reverse sorts of challenges to my faith recently.

What does it mean when your employer (I should add that in the deeps of time, my very large employer began as a Catholic-based small hospital) decides now to use the name of Jesus in its mission statement?

I (and other coworkers) are scratching our heads and trying to put our fingers on exactly why this bothers us so much. For one thing, it's pretty ballsy in the world of 2010. For another...all we've heard in the workplace for as long as we can remember is a lot of corporate-speak, a lot of talk about operating margins, cost-saving measures, and modern business terminology.

Secondly, it's recently come to light that a family member has a very serious, progressive kidney condition. Now that's plenty of badness to absorb and process. And all the attendant mental scurrying that goes with it: How? When? Why? Could it have been prevented? Is it congenital? What's the next step? How do we fix it? What's the correct way to freak out?

Here's all I know for sure at this point: I can seriously do without sanctimonious sack-cloth displays.

I was basically point blank told by another family member yesterday morning that putting this person on a prayer list at church once isn't good enough. Oh, no. To REALLY do a lot of good, it's got to be a prayer chain. In fact, she wants people praying for him 'all over the country'.

*huge, depressed sigh*

I guess what that means is that one prayer, no matter how sincere, by one person for something that they may feel is really important just plain isn't going to drift its way up to heaven. Nope, unless it's part of a Prayer Chain(TM), it's just not going to reach that far. Apparently God has to be inundated by constant, repeated requests, over and over ('Are we there yet? Are we there yet??') until we've successfully worn Him down and He reaches the end of His almighty everlasting patience, takes His own name in vain, and yells 'All right already!! Yes!'

I HAVE been witness and grateful recipient of what prayer can do. And I've been familiar with the short bible verse 'Pray without ceasing' since I measured my age in single digits. However, my personal take on that was more like make prayer an automatic habit, like breathing; live as though God can hear your every whispered thought; and pray your whole life. NOT suddenly turn it into a chain letter or spam bomb when there's a problem.

Pardon me for the figurative eye roll and irreverence. Yes, we should pray about this matter. But maybe we should all do some earthly tasks, too. Do some reading, ask questions, talk to insurance entities and health professionals, get answers, get friggin' educated.

Bratwurst Pizza

2010-01-08T23:40:00.004-05:00

The usual water-honey-olive oil-kosher salt-white flour-whole wheat flour-cornmeal pizza dough. With the addition of some rye flour. Topped with a schmear of light sour cream with grainy brown mustard marbled through it. Well-drained sauerkraut (we used Dave's homemade stuff) next, topped by bratwurst squeezed out of the casings, browned and blotted of all possible fat. Sauteed sweet onions next (saute' the onions in the same pan as the bratwurst to deglaze all the good stuff off the pan bottom), then diced Swiss cheese. A little freshly ground sea salt and pepper, a super hot oven and a Founders Red's Rye, and you've got yourself a Friday night that flips the bird to an arctic January evening.

Happy New Year!

2010-01-02T07:18:00.004-05:00

Or: The First Food Crime of 2010. Rare beef tenderloin, and leftover horseradish mashed potatoes, shaped into patties and slowly browned in duck fat.

And the obligatory Hot Vegetable (actually those were some really good green beans.)

In our humble opinions, it would have been a far worse crime to NOT put that duck fat to some kind of use.

Bacon Buck-Eyes

2009-12-29T10:56:00.004-05:00

Yah. That's right. Chocolate-covered peanut butter balls containing brittle-crisp bits of bacon. Timmeh came up with this mad genius idea.

(Full disclosure: the bacon is not Nueske's, but another satisfactory brand. However, I need to deploy this idea with the exquisitely smoky Nueske's next time I lay my hands on some.)

I'm considering submitting this to This Is Why You're Fat.

Treats (Part 3) and Merry Christmas!

2009-12-25T03:33:00.009-05:00

Pistachio Baklava with Orange-Cardamom Syrup

Unfortunately, the recipe is not on line (at least not yet). But we saw it in the latest Bon Apetit mag. Tim said 'I was hoping you would notice that.' He looooooooves baklava. I haven't made it since his 40th birthday. So after he left for work Wednesday night, I got out the supplies and started constructing it. I surprised him by sending a pic to him at work as soon as I pulled it out of the oven.

Assembly is pretty standard (10 layers of phyllo and butter, then a thick layer of nuts, sugar and spices [I goofed and put the cardamom in with the cinnamon and pistachios, instead of in the syrup], 10 more layers, more nuts, and then a final 10 layers). It takes at least an hour standing there, layering and brushing, so that's why I've only made baklava twice. But oh, is it ever pretty and puffy and crackly-crisp when it comes out of the oven. And so tasty. The tangy orange syrup really adds a unique touch. The recipe comes from Molly Wizenberg.

ETA 12/31/09: Here's the Bon Appetit link.

Treats (Part 2)

2009-12-24T20:44:00.013-05:00

"Moosewood Lodge" Pine Cone Cheese Ball

5 or 6 8-oz packages light cream cheese
1 8 oz package shredded Monterey Jack cheese
1 bunch green onions, finely chopped
about 1 tablespoon smoked hot paprika, more or less to taste
about 1 pound Nueske's applewood smoked bacon
4-5 cups whole almonds, toasted and divided
1 cup pecans, toasted.

Dice bacon and saute' slowly until most of the fat is rendered off, and bacon is dark brown. Drain fat, blot bacon with paper towel, and cool. Place in food processor or chopper and process until finely chopped.

Place about 1 cup of the almonds and the 1 cup of pecans in food processor or chopper and process until finely chopped.

In a large bowl, combine cream cheese, Monterey Jack, onions, paprika, bacon and the chopped nuts. Blend until thoroughly combined. With hands, shape mixture into two roughly tear-drop shaped balls, and press onto two serving plates. Take remaining almonds and press lightly into cheese. Start at wide end of ball and continue toward pointed end, making them all the same direction, aimed toward the point, resembling a pine cone.

Garnish with rosemary sprigs (pine branches).

Makes two big old cheese balls. Serve with crackers or sturdy bread.

It's the smoky Nueske's bacon that makes it soooo good.

I served these for our Christmas party on the 12th, and took one to work. It went over quite well. I made cheese balls like this years ago. Don't know why I thought of doing it now, but it seemed appropriate for the time and the decor.

Treats (Part One)

2009-12-24T00:11:00.007-05:00

One of my favorite Christmas cookies. A childhood favorite mom says came out of a Pillsbury Bake-off cookbook a long time ago.

Buttermint Tuck-ins

1/2 C oleo, softened
1 1/2 C firmly packed brown sugar
3 ounces cream cheese, softened
1 tsp vanilla
1 egg
2 envelopes premelted unsweetened chocolate
(or substitute 3 Tb unsweetened cocoa plus 1 Tb vegetable oil for each envelope)
2 C flour
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp baking soda
3/4 C buttermints (about 36)

Preheat oven to 375F

In a large mixer, combine oleo, brown sugar, cream cheese, vanilla, egg and chocolate. Blend at low speed; beat at medium speed until light and well mixed. Blend in flour, salt and soda (mix first in separate bowl); mix until combined. Drop by rounded spoonfuls 2 inches apart onto greased cookie sheets. Press a buttermint into each cookie, carefully smoothing dough over mint to cover. Bake 8-10 minutes until cookies are slightly firm. Cool slightly before removing from cookie sheet.

Notes:

Can you even find oleo any more?? This recipe is an oldy but goody, probably from WWII days or shortly thereafter, when oleo everywhere (or all there was available). In our time, butter is plentiful, and the fat of choice. Hard to remember a time when there was a true shortage of anything in this country.

Also the melted baking chocolate envelopes are a thing of the past. I use the solid unsweetened chocolate these days. An even softer cookie would probably result from using the oil and cocoa substitute.

Parchment paper instead of grease is the only way to go, as far as I'm concerned.

If you can fit two buttermints in the cookie, so much the better. I find it easier to just pick up a small amount of dough and roll it in my hands with the mints inside for smooth, complete coverage.

Hoopdee-doo. And Dickory-Dock. Don't Forget To Hang Up Your Sock.

2009-12-23T07:37:00.006-05:00

Tomorrow all will be merry and bright. But for the moment, a small holiday rant:

---F***ing stores that issue coupons only good for two f***ing days. Substantial coupons. Two. F***ing. Days. I was 7 hours too late. 'Santa Bucks', you call them. 'Santa Sucks' is what I say.

---Retailers? I care about your bottom line equally as much as you've cared about mine for the last few years. Truly. From the bottom of my heart.

---Walmart, I am sick and tired of your flooding every TV channel with your endless commercials. You rule. Yay. We know.

---Sugar ought to be labeled as a mood-altering drug. Can't....seem...to...stop.......want.....more.....cookies....fudge...hot chocolate...

---The damned meno-pot is coming back (see preceding item)

---WNIC, I'm starting to hate you and your 16-song playlist. Which you've been playing around the clock since NOVEMBER 1ST. Add a few more from the absolute WEEKS of Christmas music that are out there, why dontcha?? When someone specifically requests Burl Ives' 'Silver and Gold', what do you play in response? 'Holly Jolly Christmas'. Because apparently that's the only selection you have. I'm telling you, someone in the Detroit metro area is going to get pulled down from a bell-tower holding a high-power rifle humming 'Holly Jolly Christmas' over and over and over...

---Deep down, something twisted in me wants the composer of 'The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year' to have been previously abused and/or sodomized, and the song is a complete fake.

---I SO thought hot flashes in the winter would be the most awesome thing ever. I am beyond disappointed.

---Normally being ignored by management is a good thing. But this time of year? You really ARE being ignored by management.

---F***ing work policy of having to burn 8 hours of your own supply of PTO for your assigned holidays off. I don't f***ing need a Wednesday off. But I guess if you're bound and determined to make me take it off, I'm gonna spend it drinking alcohol, eating sugar and running with scissors.

Exposing The Imposter

2009-12-22T08:19:00.007-05:00

It had to be done.

It's like 'Other Brand' cream-filled sandwich cookies compared to the almighty Oreo. Just not the same. Ever. Surprisingly, the ingredient lists are not all that different. But the Large Chain Grocery Store brand has this wonky fake-vanilla, industrial flavor. And they're too sweet.

I will never stray again...

Now What?

2009-12-15T17:30:00.008-05:00

OK, so the big Christmas party is over. From what I've heard since then, it seems everyone had a good time, and it was a success. BUT: it's still not Christmas yet, and life goes on. So there's still crap to do. Always crap to do.

Christmas shopping? Very bipolar at this point. Much of it was done months ago, during the summer. I picked up stuff for German friends, and that's been long sent. However, for people near and dear, ideas, inspiration and purchases are totally lacking. We tried to rectify that yesterday by going on a meandering, all-day drive to several malls and favorite food emporiums. It was a LOT of fun. But we didn't bring too much into the house at the end of the day. I guess that's not such a bad thing. I don't think the pantry and fridges could hold any more stuff anyway. We've got obscene amounts of food on the premises left from the party.

Still, we found a few items, and got some ideas. And decided what we DON'T want to buy. The loss of all monetary perspective this time of year is like a disease. It's accelerated by all the obnoxious commercials on TV and radio. Walking through several large malls yesterday reminded us why we don't set foot in these places more than once or twice a year. Monday crowds and pushy salespeople were considerable. We imagined what these places would look like on a Saturday. We mostly went to window-shop and take in the mall decorations and lights. I enjoyed looking at the pretty price tags, too. As we picked up stuff and put it back down, I kept wondering what things would have the most meaning for the people in our lives. Very few, if any, things registered on our radars when put to that test. We just couldn't get excited about stuff.

I suppose we'll come up with solutions in the next couple weeks. There is still time to do some comparison and on-line shopping.

I was actually considering the idea of buying a turducken. What Christmas gift do you get for the guy (Tim) who never wants anything? But after seeing their astronomical prices and not finding them readily available, there came that abrupt 'stop everything' record-scratch noise in my brain, and I thought: why not just buy an inexpensive turkey breast, some inexpensive chicken breasts and a duck breast and FRIGGING MAKE ONE??

I did manage to come up with a solution to use up several pounds of shredded chicken meat and piles of rapidly staling leftover party crackers. A creamy chicken casserole-gratin thing is waiting in the fridge to be baked tonight for dinner.

And we've acquired another piece of Moosewood Lodge decor. In 5 or 6 months, we will have the pelt of one of these:

(photo credit: quickeye at Weather Underground)

Yesterday on the way to drop off the truck for an oil change and a coolant leak repair, we came across an unfortunate, minutes-old casualty right in the middle of the road. We were not about to let the curious stares of passers-by stop us from making good use of something that would otherwise go destroyed. Yes, it was gross. Yes, we felt bad for the little beast. Yes, it's a little bit of money for taxidermy services. But you can be sure if we hadn't picked it up, someone else would have.

At the moment, it is now dark out. The dishwasher stands open, half emptied. Wrinkled, wadded laundry is still overflowing in baskets to be put away in the bedroom. I have crossed ONE thing off my 'to do' list. It's my last day off work, and all the stuff I hoped to get done is still undone. On the other hand, I have logged some serious ass-on-couch time, cat-on-lap time, and I think I actually, maybe, possibly have gotten adequate sleep the last couple days. That in itself feels so weird I'm not sure I like it.

It's only 6pm, there's still plenty of time left to get stuff done today. Right?

Yeaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!!!!!

2009-12-09T08:57:00.003-05:00

*My* holiday just started this morning. I have a WEEK off work. I am sipping a glass of Viognier and munching pretzels and hot smoked paprika dip.

There is plenty of work to be done to get ready for our party on the 12th, and shopping to be done for Christmas yet, but just knowing I DON'T HAVE TO GO BACK TO THAT HOLE UNTIL NEXT WEDNESDAY is a pretty damn good thing.

After my second Blood Bank Emergency Room trauma cooler in 10 days, that is just about enough, people. Last week in the wee hours of Tuesday, a guy decided to drive his car into a tree. The work went on for about 2 frantic hours to save his life until the family finally decided to let him go. It relieved us of wasting more unbelievable amounts of Blood Bank products. I know that sounds cold, but it was the truth. Tonight, apparently a woman was walking drunk beside the road and got hit by a car. Rumor had it she'd need both legs amputated. I didn't even waste time issuing a puny 2-unit trauma cooler we keep at the ready at all times. I had a few minutes early warning to run down the hall to the ice machine and grab a bag of ice to make a big cooler, since I guessed she'd be bound for one of our lovely operating rooms.

I guess we should be glad the hospital census is up, but we are NEVER glad to get this kind of work. Seriously.

'Tis the season for drunks, overdoses, suicides, icy car crashes...

Plus I beat my head on the bench half the night trying to work out a multiple antibody problem. I was nowhere nearer to solving it when I gave up than when I began. First shift has three Blood Bankers in the department...they can figure it out. Or send it to a reference lab.

But for now, I'm in that nice little zone between where I have yet to start roasting 14 pounds of chicken parts for Spatzen soup Saturday, and just-got-home-relaxing-a-few-minutes.

Medication

2009-12-03T20:39:00.002-05:00

Tim brought one of these home for me this morning as an impulse buy.

I fell on it like a rabid Cookie Monster.

Holiday Weekend Revelations

2009-12-01T07:27:00.015-05:00

---Picking out a Christmas tree is downright pleasant when there's warmth, sunshine and the absence of bickering, control-jockeying teenage niece and nephew siblings. They came to a relatively quick agreement, and Lorena had it all decorated in time for the big family dinner that night.

---Nothing like getting the winter weather driving practice in as early as possible. Black ice not even an hour from home; about three hours in pelting snow and slush on the turnpike in the Allegheny mountains, including dodging a fresh spin-out? Fun times.

---I'm getting better at just saying nothing around my father-in-law. Not what I'd call good at it yet, but better. After he casually tells us he only uses the Authorized Vehicles Only turnarounds on the highway if there are no cars coming, I simply couldn't help myself. 'Umm, dad, you might not want to do that, since it's illegal and you can get a ticket for that'. After the third comment of how foggy it was outside, I finally said through clenched teeth while gripping the steering wheel and watching the tachometer get all squirrely, 'No dad, that's snow'. After he casually told us he's cut down his speed from 70 to 60mph on country roads, both Tim and I more or less calmly informed him he probably shouldn't have been going 70 in the first place. And after the 7th or 8th comment of how many trucks were going south, I calmly said, 'No dad, that direction is east.'

And he declared he could have driven this 500-mile trip, we just don't have confidence in him. 'Couldn't have done a better job driving myself!' he compliments us as we are arriving back home. To that, yes: I said nothing.

---So Tim and I didn't make the hour drive out to Hershey by ourselves and tour the hotel grounds and go out to eat at Harvest. *shrugs* There was really nothing on the menu that looked spectacularly different than we could get close to home, and it all looked a bit overpriced. What felt right was hanging out with the family, cooking and serving and cleaning up, and enjoying absolute mountains of delectable leftovers for days.

---I really do enjoy cooking in other people's kitchens. If they're willing to let me help, that's where I'm going to be hanging out. Multi-meat dinner for 10? No sweat for the helper-outer. And the sous-chef duties were most appreciated by my sister-in-law Diana.

---After listening to 16 straight hours of XM radio Christmas Traditions music in the vehicle, I'm actually not sick of it. In fact, I'd like to download some more Frank Sinatra, Louis Armstrong, Bing Crosby, Glen Miller, and all the other big band holiday stuff we heard as the miles rolled by.

---I can now say I've walked on a small part of the Appalachian Trail. In the moonlight, even. If you start a hike in the afternoon in late November midway across Pennsylvania, you are going to run out of daylight fast.

---Am I shrinking, or are all teenagers tall these days?

---Chocolate fondue really does make already good stuff taste even better. Fruit salad, cinnamon French toast, oatmeal, pumpkin bars...

Thanksgiving Dinner

2009-11-26T19:57:00.013-05:00

A little unconventional, but I just didn't want the usual stuff this time around.

Some buttery oyster soup to start:

A beef and chicken liver meatloaf with a prune glaze, topped with sweet onion marmellata:

Boursin-cream potato gratin:

And a nod to the typical Thanksgiving dish, because we still have a box full of them from mom and dad Reinert, maple syrup and butter baked acorn squash:

Drag-Ass Tired

2009-11-23T18:39:00.005-05:00

And it's not even the official 'Holiday' season yet.

6-night work stretch + company three times (including overnight guests), + church bake sale = the perfect storm of one hell of a LOT of cooking, baking, dishwashing, housecleaning and sleep-deprivation.

So yesterday I treated myself to some couch time with a bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau and two rented movies (Star Trek XI and Australia). And this week: only two nights of work, and no volunteering.

*heaves big sigh of relief*

Best Wishes

2009-11-20T00:14:00.006-05:00

This Thursday was the last time I got to help out the regular legal advocate in the crisis office at LACASA. She's taking a new job a half hour south. I'm a little sad about seeing her go, but it's a great opportunity for her: only 2 blocks from her house (no more horrendous winter commutes!), more pay, and she can sort of customize the job as she goes. It's a new position assisting newly released prisoners readjust to life on the outside. All of us are going to really miss her. She's basically organized that whole call center over the last year. She's one of the most mature and patient 23-year olds I have ever met. I spend some of my nights schooling 20-somethings at my job, but once a week got to be schooled by someone half my age. Over the last 6 months she's guided me through answering calls and how stuff works in the office. And she's a foodie! We discussed cooking and eating quite a few times.

So what else could I do but bring cookies? I brought a plate of biscotti in for general consumption, and sent her off with her own private container. Happy dunking and best wishes, L. You are going to go far in life.

Nutella Ice Cream

2009-11-13T09:08:00.004-05:00

Ridiculously easy. Tim wanted Nutella ice cream a couple weekends ago, and I found a couple recipes, but this one had the fewest ingredients and calories.

Like I need any more reasons to bring Nutella into the house...

Occupational Hazard

2009-11-10T02:36:00.008-05:00

Today I had a first, and hopefully not to be soon repeated experience: taking the stand in a courtroom as an um, 'expert' witness. It's a heroin overdose case, and 'People of the State of Michigan' is going after the guy who provided the stuff to the victim for opiate poisoning. I had allegedly performed the urine drug screen back in April. I got grilled with questions for almost a half hour by both sides. I don't know if I helped, but unfortunately I get the feeling 'People' is grasping at straws here.

Luckily I didn't have too long to stew about the whole thing. I found out they were trying to serve me a subpoena last Wednesday, talked with the assistant prosecutor for 'People' on Thursday, and had to stay up waaayyy past my bedtime Monday to appear in court. So I'm running on 3 hours of sleep tonight at work, but at least it's over.

This was only the pretrial hearing. The actual trial is in 6 months. Well, hopefully there won't be a trial, and hopefully I will not be called back for this kind of shenanigans again.

Oh, and driving/walking in downtown Flint? Yay. Haven't had the pleasure in years. Last time I set foot in the area was probably to deal with our marriage license in the court building. I parked too far away, because I was thinking the court building was where I had to go, but no. My building was a two block walk farther. I had to walk past the jail building. The day was freakishly warm, so they must have had windows open in the jail, and you could hear all this trash talking, yelling and primate-like hooting drifting out between the bars. I sooooo wished I was miles away.

Afterward, the only thing that kept me from sprinting down the sidewalk back to my truck were my dress shoes. Too loose, yet they rubbed the hell out of my heels. Been so long since I wore that particular pair, I forgot. Not used to wearing grown-up clothes...

Chicago Pics

2009-10-23T10:06:00.023-04:00

Neal's Yard Dairy Shropshire blue cheese, purchased at Sam's (which will probably be Binny's the next time we go back there).

Big old messy Italian beef sammich at Portillo's

Decor outside Weber Grill restaurant. Here's what to do with all your old grills and grill racks.

Skyline view from the Lakeshore Drive walking/bike path

We could have taken an elegant dinner cruise on a yacht, a ride in a fast yellow speedboat, or set sail on a ship full of guys dressed like pirates. The seagull says 'Screw that! Let's go get some beer and garlicky pretzels at Rock Bottom.'

Flags at the end of Navy Pier

I was trying to capture the way the light shone through the butter/coconut oil stains in the paper bag of Garrett's Caramel Crisp...

More skyscrapers

Oh look, there's Tim and Kathy reflected in the Cloud Gate Sculpture in Millenium Park!

Chicago Weekend: Impressions

2009-10-21T09:49:00.003-04:00

---Bad economy? Not, apparently, in southwestern Michigan. We visited a favorite winery (Lemon Creek) to discover a sparkling new tasting room and plenty of merchandise for sale. Also we discovered Chocolate Garden, something we shockingly hadn't been aware of. We definitely missed that 'Food Finds' episode. Obscenely priced truffles to match anything you'd see in a big city. Nice showroom and merch, too. Of course we purchased stuff at both places.

---I'm pretty sure I could make truffles equally as good in my own kitchen, and I'm sure I could make a damn good imitation of the bacon caramel toffee at Vosges (laying my hands on Nueske's bacon might be the only snag). The crying shame is that I'm not getting money for selling them.

---Chicago is custom made for tourists. If we can figure out the train routes and easily use them, anybody can. This mass transit concept is a little foreign to a lot of us multi-car households in America, though.

---'Uniform' of choice for women downtown seemed to consist of variations on a black North Face jacket, and Ugg boots. And it seems the scarf trend continues. Must go find one I like...

---Officer J. Anselmo: thanks for being so nice Friday night after we got in that rear-ender chain reaction accident. (Yes, I'm cringing inwardly as I write that. But unlike mom, I don't consider being nice a job requirement in law enforcement) What an idiotic thing to happen. Yet you just gave a big city cop shrug and told us hey, no one was hurt, it was an accident, that's why you have insurance.

---Chicago police and ambulance guys really talk like in the TV shows. The one at the desk at the Jefferson precinct sounded like he could have come straight out of 'Hill Street Blues'.

---Too much food in Chicago, not enough time to go everywhere and try it all. But there may be a round two in December, thanks to a completely unwanted court date downtown...

---So far, so good. All that mass transit and public contact and no sign of having caught any cold or flu viruses as of Monday night.

---I enjoyed steaming up the window at the Cartier store. You just can't believe those rocks are for real. And I love seeing the big beefy security guards standing around inside. Oh, and we got the haughty brush-off by the young salesgirl in the Judith Ripka store. Gimme a break, honey. She thawed a tiny bit when I showed her the Ripka bracelet I was wearing.

---If you could take the beef filling from the Italian beef sandwiches from Al's, and put it in the crusty bread at Portillo's, you would have THE perfect Italian beef sandwich. I've since learned that the more 'authentic' way is to use bread that is high-gluten with a lot of wet strength. But we liked the crustier, baguette style better. Sorry.

---We really did get a lot of enjoyment out of that damned $5.00 bag of Garrett's Caramel Crisp. My lips have never felt so smooth and supple--all that butter makes excellent lip balm. I seriously didn't want to spend that kind of money on caramel corn, which I could probably make at home, but I'm glad we saw that other store on Navy Pier and changed our minds. My own wasn't anywhere near that good. But I can sure try like hell to imitate it. Maybe add some molasses. Or slightly caramelize the white sugar first before making the syrup, and add more salt...

---The world must be shrinking, because everywhere we went, we put food or material goods to the 'can we get that near home?' test. And there were lots of things that did not pass. Having said that, though, we still grabbed things we could conveniently cart home, or that we needed/that were on sale. Cat-puke resistant, washable rugs at the Crate & Barrel outlet, a replacement for a long-ago broken oven-proof handled soup bowl, the big sturdy iron shepherd's hook marked WAY down at the Smith & Hawken store. And plenty of bottles of wine.

---If you walk at least 8 miles each day for 2 days, surely that burns off all the calories you take in those days. Right?

A Few Souvenirs From The Weekend

2009-10-19T19:36:00.001-04:00

Yes, that center paper does say Circuit Court of Cook County, Illinois on the top. It was an interesting weekend. Everyone's OK. More later...

Caramel Corn

2009-10-10T10:47:00.006-04:00

I got a craving for caramel corn a few days ago. Maybe it's because it's fall. This time of the year I start daydreaming about devilry with sugar and butter. Well, all right, I daydream about that 12 months a year. Just more now.

Now imagine that little section expanded to fill an entire commercial restaurant baking pan. Those of you who know us will not be surprised that we own a couple of these.

The recipe comes out of my Land o' Lakes Treasury of Country Recipes:

20 cups (5 L) popped popcorn
2 cups (500 ml) firmly packed brown sugar
1 cup (250 ml) butter
1/2 cup (125 ml) dark corn syrup
1/2 tsp (2ml) salt
1/2 tsp (2ml) baking soda
1 cup (250 ml) mixed salted nuts

Heat oven to 200 F (93 C). In roasting pan place popcorn; set aside. In 2-quart (2 L) saucepan, combine brown sugar, butter, corn syrup and salt. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until mixture comes to a full boil (12-14 minutes). Continue cooking, stirring occasionally, until candy thermometer reaches 238 F (114 C) or a small amount of mixture dropped in ice water forms a soft ball (4-6 minutes). Remove from heat; stir in baking soda. Pour over popcorn; sprinkle nuts over caramel mixture. Stir until all popcorn is coated. Bake for 20 minutes; stir. Continue baking for 25 minutes. Remove from oven; immediately place caramel corn on waxed paper. Cool completely. Break into pieces. Store in a tighly covered container.

Note the recipe does not call for dark chocolate. I had enough ingredients to make one and a half times everything in the recipe. Then I melted an entire Trader Joe's Pound Plus dark chocolate bar and drizzled it over the pan half at a time, letting it set and flipping the mixture.

This stuff just HAS to be good for you. It's got fiber, nuts and dark chocolate...