Excuses from the Guilt-Ridden

Reasons I Haven’t Updated My Blog Since February

1. I’m busy.
2. I haven’t cooked or baked anything worth writing about.
3. I’ve cooked and baked plenty worth writing about, but forgot to take pictures of the deliciousness.
4. I’m sick of posting only about food.
5. I’m tired.
6. I’m lazy.
7. I’m homesick.
8. I never do anything interesting.
9. I’ve done loads of interesting stuff, but don’t have any pictures to prove it.
10. I’ve done interesting stuff, and have pictures to prove it, but I look ugly in them and am still inexplicably too vain to post ugly pictures of myself on the internet.
11. I’ve done interesting stuff, and have plenty of pictures in which I look great while doing said stuff, and I am more than happy to plaster flattering pictures of myself on the internet—however, the hard drive on my computer is COMPLETELY full and I don’t yet have the money saved up for an external and thus cannot upload photos for love or money and we all know that a blog post without pictures is LAME.
12. The fact that my audience is so varied (hi mom, dad, grandparents, friends, former coworkers, significant others’ family, former clients, former high school classmates I am once again in touch with thanks to the slightly awkward magic of facebook, and random strangers from the internet!) severely limits the scope of what I feel comfortable writing about. And everybody loves food, right? Right! Except as mentioned in #4 I’m sort of sick of posting about food. Conundrum!
13. Writing is hard.
14. Writing consistently is particularly hard.
15. I have notoriously terrible follow-through.
16. I’ve been reading a string of epic fantasies—from the literary to the moderately trashy—one after the other over the last month, and pretty much spend all my free time inhaling those books as opposed to doing anything else, ever. It’s an odd phase, and it will pass, but for the moment I am consumed.
17. I’m boring.
18. I’m still suspicious about my own motives for keeping a blog. My previous blogging experience consisted entirely of a handful of livejournal accounts, so, yeah.
19. I've been too busy theorizing about LOST and being devastated by the fact that [SPOILER] Kate hasn't been killed off yet. I hate Kate.
20. You know how you put something off, and put it off, and put it off, and it just becomes impossible to pick it back up again? Yeah, that.

PS. I started this list, like, a week before I got around to posting it. I have an external hard drive now. Pictures will be uploaded. Posts will be posted. You will witness the impossible. 

xoxo

Happy Birthday, Dad!

My dad and I share a sweet tooth. When he started bemoaning the fact that he had to read all my facebook status updates about the delicious things I was baking without getting to taste them, I promised that I'd ship him some baked goods for his birthday.

I've never shipped food before, so I put a lot of thought into what I wanted to send. Cookies seem like the obvious choice. Simple. Not messy. Easy to transport.

But I wasn't really feeling it. It didn't seem special enough. Cookies aren't birthday-ish.

When I was a kid, we always had those snack cakes around the house. Little Debbie's, Drake's, Hostess. So I figured, why not mimic one of those? So I decided to make Ring Dings from scratch for my Dad's birthday.

It was a little complicated. Ok, a lot complicated. But I was up for the challenge.  Want to see?

Happy Birthday, Daddy! I love you!

mise en place

Mise en place (pronounced [miz ɑ̃ plas], literally "putting in place") is a French phrase defined by the Culinary Institute of America as "everything in place."


I've been cooking for about eight years now, and have been cooking seriously for the last five. 


There are three professions I seriously considered having in elementary school (where all career ambitions first bloom). I was determined to be either a teacher, an actress, or a pastry chef.


As it happened I stumbled upon publishing (a career I never considered in elementary school because it didn't occur to me that such a job existed. Books, I believed, sprung fully-formed onto library shelves, where they waited their whole papery lives to be checked out and devoured by yours truly). Yet, teaching, acting, and cooking never left my life. They remain my dear, abandoned loves, and whenever my guilt allows me to face them, I indulge.


I have many, many food memories. A few bad, but most overwhelmingly good, and several rather charming in their simplicity. I remember going grocery shopping with my family as a child, and how after leaving the deli counter my father would unwrap the cheese and give me a slice to eat while we walked up and down the rest of the aisles. I remember stopping at Anthony's Bakery sometimes after running errands with my mother, and having to decide between a cheese danish or a Half Moon cookie. I remember my first taste of ginger bread, on a dark Christmas Eve, given to me by my Nana from the bakery she worked at in Boston. But my first memory of actually cooking is when my Grammie taught me to flip pancakes. I remember the nightgown I was wearing. I remember the feel of tile on my bare feet. I remember the agonizing patience required, to wait until the entire surface of the puddled batter erupted with bubbles before flipping the pancake over. Because otherwise, I'd get a runny, goopy mess. And I get a lot of those, because I am not very patient. 


And it just so happens that mise en place requires just as much--if not more--patience as perfect pancakes. 


Organization does not come naturally to me. I am too restless, too lazy, too impulsive and simultaneously hesitant to be seduced by the idea that setting out everything you'll need for the task ahead of you in a clean, coherent manner would make cooking (or life) significantly easier. 


At best, I would gather all my ingredients and plop them down on the table. Not measured or divided. Not arranged in the order I'd be using them. It was enough of an accomplishment for me to know that I wouldn't have to go digging around my pantry at the last minute only to discover that I was out of yeast. And there is something to be said for that. Unfortunately, I can't tell you how many times I overlooked the yeast altogether, not seeing it among the scattered ingredients on my table and forgetting it completely. That sucked. 


So this year I decided to put my prejudices aside, and give mise en place a whirl. Do I even need to tell you how much more harmonious my kitchen adventures have become since? Mise en place has revolutionized cooking for me. Amazing how all those professional chefs and organized home cooks have been right all this time. Never again will I lose track of how many cups of flour I've already dumped into my mixing bowl. 


And while mise en place has revolutionized my life in the kitchen, I'm finding more and more ways to implement it in the non-culinary aspects of my life. I will be the first to admit that I'm disorganized and scatterbrained, and yet suddenly I'm consumed with the need to have "a place for everything, and everything in its place."


According to my father, I didn't really become an adult until around 2006-2007. He's probably right on the money with that one, too. By that time I'd been living in New York for a year or two, I had begun my career, was more or less financially stable, and started cleaning my room/apartment on a regular basis. The fact that I make my bed every morning now probably shocks my immediate family, or anyone who roomed with me in college. It shocks ME, even. 

But now that kind of neatness and order and ritual lends a kind of serenity and calm to my life. 


So I've made room for mise en place in other corners of my life. Whenever I'm applying to jobs I make sure I have my updated resume, references, and cover letter template ready to go before I even begin the application. Last month I reorganized our bathroom closet and put everything into clear containers which I labeled with things like "cleaning supplies" and "medicine/first aid." Thanks to David (who is naturally an organized person) all of our books are separated by genre and alphabetized by author. And, well, my clothes are all color-coded in my closet. But that's something I've just always done.


It's definitely a challenge to keep it up. We made fresh pasta last week on Kelly Riley Day 2010* and since the ingredient list was SO minimal I didn't properly set up my mise en place. And of course, I wound up forgetting 2 tablespoons of olive oil. I added it in time, and the pasta turned out beautifully, but David and I were both laughing and shouting about the importance of mise en place! My 2010 resolution! That has been my lone lapse, though. It does help that we have such darling little prep bowls. They're so pretty that I'll find any excuse to use them!


The coolest thing, though, is looking at your pretty little bowls, and well-prepped ingredients and knowing what they'll turn into. For example, the ingredients in the first picture in this post combined with a little bit of water baked up beautifully into this:

*you are dying to know what Kelly Riley Day 2010 is, aren't you? Soon, I promise! It's a complicated post!

sick island

I am teetering on the edge of getting sick. I have the very beginnings of a sore throat, some congestion, and am generally feeling a little bit lethargic and achy. Since I'm still currently unemployed (ugh) I have the time to try to fend off this cold before it becomes full blown and ruins the next several days of my life. In other words, I'm doing a lot of resting. Hence, I've been hanging out in my Sick Island lately.

Now, if you are already super sick and miserable and want to die because you can't remember what it's like to breathe out of your nose or to not have your brain fried by fever then a Sick Island cannot help you. Go to bed, sleep it off, pray for death, whatever you've got to do. A Sick Island is only truly effective to either stave off that misery or to help you recover from it. A Sick Island is best used when you just barely have the energy to get to the bathroom and back without wanting to die, or when you can now only sleep for three hours at a time during the day, instead of seven. A Sick Island comes into play when you're still too sick to do anything like go to work or class, but you're also bored out of your freaking mind because you're too sick to do anything. 

I like to make my Sick Islands on the couch because usually by the time I make them I've been bed-ridden for a few days and need a change of scene. 

Here's what you'll need to do:

Get some clean, cool sheets, cozy blankets, and a pillow and make the couch all nice and comfortable. Think of it as a snuggly little nest. 

This is a Sick Island because essentially you're going to strand yourself here for the rest of the day. You want to gather everything you'll need or want and put it within reach, because you want to move as infrequently as possible. 

Tissues are a must, and I like to pull out a little trash can and set it right by the couch, so that I don't have piles of used tissues surrounding me. 

TV remote is essential. I'll just throw on the Food Network, or watch marathons of reality shows like Top Chef or America's Next Model or whatever. Anything that doesn't require too much brain power. This week, though, I've been watching the Olympics non-stop. What is so riveting about curling? I don't know, but I CANNOT stop watching it!

Tea, tea, tea. With honey and lemon if you've got a sore throat. I fill up my thermos with hot water so that I can have several cups in a row and minimize my trips to the kitchen! And of course orange juice. I also love ginger ale when I'm sick. And even though I rarely have an appetite while I'm sick, I'll usually keep a packet of Saltines close by, especially if I have an upset stomach.

You should also have something around to amuse yourself with when TV gets boring. Normally, I'd have a small stack of books nearby, but David picked up this little origami flower kit for Kelly Riley Day 2010* and I've been obsessed with it ever since!

I'm a huge baby when I'm sick, so I usually need to snuggle with my stuffed animals for a little while, too. If I'm really, really lucky Durp will come snuggle with me for a little while, too. 

Once you've got everything you need, nestle in and don't leave unless you've got to! Nap, relax, heal!

It also helps to have a super wonderful person around to take care of you when you're sick. David has offered to make home-made chicken soup (he makes the chicken stock himself and everything!) if I'm still not feeling well later this weekend. I am feeling a bit more energetic at the moment, but I might have to fake it. Who could pass up homemade soup?!

*a blog post about Kelly Riley Day 2010 is forthcoming!

VDAY

www.vday.org

VDAY is a global movement to end violence against women and girls. 

I love you all. 

a jar full of sunshine

When I was in college one of my best friends, Dan, came up to visit me several times a year. One of those years, on one of those visits, we embarked on what is to this day the greatest grocery shopping trip I have ever been on in my life.


I can't really explain why, only that it's one of those seemingly unremarkable days, those everyday-days in which nothing really happens, and yet you'll always, always cherish it. A little slice of memory that perfectly sums up your friendship.


We spent hours (yeah) in the store, wandering up and down the aisles, throwing completely random things into our cart on a whim because we liked the packaging (a tiny jug of apple juice!) or similarly superfluous reasons. But the BEST thing about that trip is that Dan and I discovered lime curd.

Lime curd, in a little jar on the shelf at a grocery store in Ithaca, was somehow the most bizarre and hilarious thing Dan and I had ever witnessed. We shrieked and laughed in that aisle until we couldn't breathe. Because, really, what the hell was curd, anyway? We had no idea, but it sounded horrifying and hysterical. It instantaneously became an inside joke we've tossed back and forth ever since.


(The photo on the right is of me and Dan, loosely around the time the infamous grocery trip took place)


But last year, I finally found out exactly what curd is: DELICIOUS.


Now, I've never made (or tasted) lime curd. I just can't bring myself to do that without Dan. It would be blasphemous. But I have become rather well aquainted with lemon curd, and I've got to tell you that stuff is stunningly tasty.


You can eat it right out of the jar. Off a spoon, your finger, whatever. Put it on toast. Put it on cake. Put it on anything and everything. Just please enjoy that tangy-sweet, sunshiney bit of heaven.

Or, you could really go all out and make a strawberry galette. A galette is a "rustic" tart. In other words: you don't have to bother with making the crust look all beautiful and professional because we're just going to lazily throw the whole thing together and say it's homemade and charming. Fantastic!

Strawberry Galette with Thyme Crust and Meyer Lemon Curd

(Meyer Lemon curd and Strawberry Galette adapted from Dishing Up Delights)

Ingredients

• 1 pint of strawberries, sliced
• 1 tablespoon honey
• 2 teaspoons cornstarch
• 1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
• 1 egg beaten with 1 tablespoon water
• several tablespoons of lemon curd (although you can buy it in a store, it's super easy to make your own, which I did here. I can post the recipe if anyone's interested)
• 1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 3 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves
• 1 stick butter, chilled and cubed
• 2-4 tablespoons ice water

Directions

Mix the flour, salt, and thyme. Cut in the butter with a pastry blender (or do the whole thing in a food processor. It's a tart, not a pie, so I won't be picky). Add the ice water a tablespoon at a time until dough is just combined. Gather into a ball, cover in saran wrap, and chill in the fridge for at LEAST an hour (the longer the better).

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. 

Mix the strawberries, cornstarch, honey, and lemon juice in a bowl and set aside.

After properly chilled, roll out the dough in a circle a 1/4 inch thick. Top with a few tables spoons of lemon curd, spreading the curd into an even layer over the dough, but leaving a one inch border around the edge. Top with the strawberry mixture, and fold the edges of the dough over the top. 

Brush with the egg wash mixture, and bake for 20-25 minutes, until crust is golden and filling is bubbly. Let cool before serving. If feeling truly decadent, top with homemade whipped cream. Swoon.

yeah, you make me merry--make me very, very happy

Every January I make the same resolution: "I shall learn to make button holes, and attend to my parts of speech." A few among you may recognize that heroic declaration as belonging to Miss Amy March and appearing in chapter eleven of LITTLE WOMEN (one of my all-time favorite re-reads). My parts of speech are rather well attended, in my opinion (although it's true that I don't know how to make button holes), but I like having this little bon mot ready whenever someone inevitably asks what my resolutions will be on any given year.

I don't like to make proper resolutions. They always seem trite and insurmountable. But of course there are things that I'd like to change or accomplish within the next year or more.

There are the obvious things, such as being financially stable and landing a full-time job that I enjoy. I'd of course like to be healthier and use my time wisely and take ballroom dance classes like I've sworn I would since 2005.

But mostly, it's the little things I truly want to master in 2010. I want to learn to accept compliments with grace. To let go of that which truly does not matter. To be sure that the people in my life know how much I love and appreciate them. To be kinder to myself. To embrace new challenges sincerely and openly. To lift the restrictions I place upon myself and to become an active, courageous participant in the story of my own life.

I want to take steps toward becoming my best self with each passing year.

2009 is the year I left behind an established career that I loved, the city that forced me to grow up, and my best friends and family, and moved to the middle of nowhere (sorry, but it's true) for the love of my life and our future together. And that was just the tail end of the year!

I also baked bread for the first time in 2009, which quickly became a habit. I joined yet another writers group and still didn't get any closer to finishing my novel. I had a gym membership and actually, you know, went to the gym. Some of the time, anyway. I visited Chicago and Minnesota, attended the wedding of one of my dearest friends, purchased and wore rain boots, discovered a favorite cocktail, paid forward all the good will (and couch surfing) that was given to me upon my arrival in New York so many years ago, ate Ethiopian food for the first time, saw my first real shooting star, ate at the 21 Club, and walked across the Brooklyn Bridge.

I can only hope that each coming year is better than the last. And with the way things are going, it looks like 2010 will be.

I love and miss you all! I wish you health and happiness in 2010!

xoxo