I want this.

Stephanie Pearl McPhee has one.  And all week long she has been rubbing it in my face.  I can hear her now.  "Oh, look at this book full of psycho-complicated lace made with painfully thin yarn!  Just the kind Aidan would love if he had this book!  But he doesn't!  Ha!"

OK.  Maybe she hasn't been saying EXACTLY that.  But it is something really close.  Don't you think?

So.  What else is new? 

I made a batch of chocolate and goat cheese truffles, flavored with just a splash of Irish Whiskey.  That was yum.  Oh, did I mention I made the goat cheese?  I'm not back with the goat until a weekend after next, but I expect to make a double batch of cheese -- this time I think I'll make some crottin and some Sainte Maure -- both are aged, mold-ripened cheeses which become sharper in flavor and more complex with age and culture.

I've only knit two rows of my shawl.  It just really hurts my wrist, even with the splint.  I miss knitting.  Oh, and kneading bread. 

I'm Loopy!

OK.  I'm not one to gush about Local Yarn Shops.  I've had some bad experiences.  Especially with LYS owners.   I've always liked Loopy Yarns because their people were friendly, helpful, and they listen to what I want...and then get it!  (Really!  I said I preferred solid sock yarn, 4 weeks later there were 6 colors of solids.  I like the Cascade Alpaca Lace, but I've bought all I like of the colors they have...yup!  4 weeks later there are 12 new colors!  And they have all my favorite needles!)  But I have a new reason to like them.  And I thought I'd mention it.

I've been working a bunch of hours, and I was getting off work after an 11.5 hour day.  The point protector for the circulars I'm using for the Eiffel Tower shawl keep coming off, and I had noticed that they had come off and I had dropped a few stitches.  (Luckily, only a few and I was able to correct it in no time flat.)

I rang up Loopy to see if it happened to be the night they stay open late.  Vicki, the owner, answered the phone and said that they had closed an hour earlier, but if I hurried, she would wait for me to get there!  And she did!  She stayed late, for me.  And my whopping sixty-six cent sale.  Can you believe that?

You know, I could use a few balls of Alpaca Lace....


OTHER STUFF!

I just took a huge spanikopita out of the oven -- we are having our chavurah (group of friends) of people mostly from our old synagogue over for an informal Kabbalat (Welcoming) Shabbat service followed by a potluck.  We will have about 25 people -- lots of singing, laughing, eating, etc.

Anyway, I've made this spanikopita a lot, but this time is a little different.  Why?  Because I made the feta cheese myself.  From goat's milk.  From a goat I know.  And love.  And milked.

I've been making my own chevre and other soft cheeses, but this was the first "hard" cheese I have made.  Flavor-wise it is a great success, but I was disappointed in the texture.  When it went into the brine it was firm, but after 21 days it was really, really soft.  Almost marshmallow fluff.  So I rinsed it off and the most fluffy part rinsed off and what remained was perfect for the spanikopita.  Good and salty and goaty!  I can't wait!

Quick Update

Um. Where to start.

Work. Work. Work. Work. That pretty much tells the story of Monday to Thursday.

Friday. Worked -- a little bit longer than planned, but still out of the office in time to run home, throw the dog and the food into the (already packed) car, drive back downtown to pick up Myfanwe, and make it Norbert's school by 2:30.

We arrive at Shell Cottage in late afternoon, and I immediately started mowing the lawn because I wanted to get it cut before it started raining. I got the front law mowed before the rain came down, and it rained the whole rest of the weekend, so I never got to finish the back. It's going to be a bear to mow next Friday.

We had chicken, onions, mushrooms and sweet potatoes roasted with white wine and rosemary for dinner. It was ok. Norbert loved it. The boy is ALL about the mushrooms.

Saturday I woke with a migraine. Lots of meds and an ice bag later it was manageable, and coffee helped keep it at bay for the rest of the day. Which was good, as I had a lot to do. The rain was nice, soothing, and I loved knowing that the roses were being watered by G-d. That way I don't have to tote buckets. (Have I failed to mention that this house has no spigot to take water to the outside? No. Really! None.)

Mitzi had an appointment with the vet in Three Oaks. Mitzi needed her rabies vaccine and she desperately needed to have her nails trimmed. (Click Click Click all through the house!) It's so much easier to walk her over to the vet in Three Oaks than to drive downtown and park. The vet in Three Oaks is a quiet, pleasant man and I really liked that he apologized to Mitzi when he stuck his thermometer up her Hoopdeedoo. I also liked that the bill was half as much as in Chicago. We will definitely be repeat customers.

After the vet, we decided that Mitzi stank and needed a bath, so we drove a few miles to the town of Bridgman, which has a do-it-yourself dog was and feed store. Plastic aprons donned, we proceeded to wash and condition, rinse and dry poor Mitzi. She is such a good dog. I'm sure if I'd been poked and pinched and stuck with a needle, had something stuck up my folderol and then been dunked in water, well, let's just say that I wouldn't be happy about it. Mitzi is, above all, forgiving.

Saturday night there was a hog roast at the American Legion hall, the proceeds of which benefit the Three Oaks Flag Day Parade. Flag Day in Three Oaks is a very, very big deal. If you were taking your ACT, the correct answer would be, "Flag Day is to Three Oaks as the Tournament of Roses is to Pasadena." Or possibly, "Flag Day is to Three Oaks as Mardi Gras is to New Orleans." It's part of the life force -- the spirit of the place.


Sunday I made my favorite coffee cake. In the cookbook put out by the Women's Axillary of the Three Oaks American Legion it is called the Walton's Mountain Coffee Cake. Paula Dean has a variation -- which is really just the Walton's Mountain recipe without the 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon. (And, to be totally honest, it is better with the cinnamon.) I also increase the nuts and mess with the brown sugar, so I guess this is MY version, and I'm going to call it the Three Oaks Coffee Cake.

Three Oaks Coffee Cake

• 3/4 cup chopped pecans, divided
  
• 18 knobs of frozen white dinner roll dough
  
• 1 pack (4 serving-size) NON-instant butterscotch pudding mix
• 1/4 cup packed light brown sugar
• 1/4 cup packed dark brown sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
  
• 1 stick butter, melted
  

• Generously grease a 10 in fluted tube pan.
• Sprinkle 1/2 cup pecans in the bottom of the pan.
• Arrange the frozen dough balls on top of the pecans.
• Sprinkle pudding mix over dough balls.
• Sprinkle brown sugars and cinnamon over the pudding.
• Sprinkle remaining nuts.
  
• Drizzle with melted butter.
• Cover with plastic wrap and leave to rise on the counter for 8 to 10 hours or refrigerate for 12 to 24 hrs.
• Uncover and bake 350 degree oven about 35 minutes or till top is golden brown.
• Let cool 5 minutes before inverting coffee cake onto a good size serving tray.
• Let stand for 10 minutes before serving.

I really love that all of the work occurs the night before. And I love the flavor. SO delicious. And, yes, I understand that there are some food snobs who will turn up their noses at a recipe that calls for pudding mix. Feh. This coffee cake is one of the best things I have ever made. And I now make it almost every week. It's that good.

Gotta run.

TUMMY YUMMIES!

I recently made this Brown Butter Pound Cake and can't stop thinking about it. It was so, so delicious. It kept well. And it doubled well. Reviews mentioned it being too dry, but I didn't have that problem. I think it is important not to overbake. Leftovers were yummy for breakfast.

I'm now looking for reasons to make pound cake.

Lace & Cakes

This is how I am spending my long weekend:


Welsh tea cakes, the Lacy Wrap from Rowan, and decaf black Ceylon tea.


My friend Sinead -- Hi, Sinead! -- pointed me towards the recipe. (And also the book "A Nice Cup of Tea and a Sit Down: A book about having a sit down, a biscuit, and a nice cup of tea" by Nicey & Wifey.) These cakes are like a cross between an American biscuit and a pancake and a quick bread. They are actually harder to describe than I thought they would be. They are rich and studded (in my variation) with chopped dried apricots and sultanas. Rolled out, cut into rounds, and baked on a griddle. Yum. There are, however, more than we can eat at one sitting. I have been warned away from "jam splits" -- breaking them open, toasting them, then spreading them with jam -- as jam splits are, apparently, "an abomination". Since some of my favorite people/things/foods have been described as "abominations", I might have to try one. But I will do it with the requisite amount of shame...probably hiding it from my family and friends.


I'm also 1.5 repeats into the Lacy Wrap. On slightly bigger needles, so I get an airy, diaphanous look. If it turns out nicely, I plan to give it to my boss' daughter, who is marrying this fall.

I gotta go. The tea cakes are getting cold.
This

Welche Juden auf Yom Kippur Tun, ist Denken an Nahrung

Zu meinen Lesern auf Deutschland:

Ich möchte um Ihre Hilfe bitten und begnadige mich bitte, wenn mein Antrag unanständig ist.

Ich plane das Menü für ein Gemeinschaftsabendessen, das den 70. Jahrestag der Kristallnacht markiert. Es gibt ein Programmfolgen, das liturgische Musik vom Vorkriegsdeutschen (?) kennzeichnet.

Meine Absicht ist, deutsche Nahrung zu dienen. Ist hier meine Frage: tun Sie German' s essen ein Äquivalent des Goulash? Meine Großmutter bildete ein köstliches Goulash, aber ich kennen nicht, wenn sie ihm hier ausgesetzt wurde, oder wenn es aus Deutschland kam. Es würde ein großer Teller sein, zum mit spaetzle und Rotkohl zu dienen.

Oder gibt es ein anderer Teller, den Sie sich empfehlen würden. Was denken Sie?

Oh -- auch lassen Sie mich sagen, dass ich traurig bin, sind gewesen ranting und raving über amerikanische Politik. Ich verspreche, nach der Wahl interessanter zu sein.

Als immer, verzeihen Sie bitte meinem armen Deutschen. Ich bleibe Ihr ergebener Bediensteter.

Day Eleven -- The Main Event

They arrived without fanfare.

They brought us a few boxes.

Then they left.

The mah jongg table, upon which we had been eating dinner, is now in the sun room. The couch is half in the sun room and half in the living room. I don't know how exactly I am going to get in to the thick of this and get to Norbert's trombone, which he needs for a Lag B'Omer talent show at school, but I will get it somehow.

There is one HUGE cabinet in the dining room. It was too damn big to move any farther. The two delivery guys couldn't get it up the last flight of stairs, so I enlisted the help of 2 of the tile guys and together the five of us got it up. It's 8 feet tall. Oi.

I felt kind of sorry for the delivery guys. We ordered the best cabinets the company made, made from solid wood, with all of the heavy upgrades. If it made the cabinets more sturdy or durable, we bought it. Damn the expense...or weight! So basically every box was like toting an oak tree up the stairs. I think I saw one of the delivery guys cry.

They really are going to be beautiful, though. Amazingly beautiful. I can't wait for next week.



Today they laid the tile in the pantry. (I can't wait to see the pantry -- and it's new mud roomlet -- after it has been drywalled!)



They cleaned the tile in the kitchen three or more times. Almost all of the haze is off. Tomorrow, all this beautiful tile will be grouted. I think Saturday will be plaster for the ceiling and some drywall stuff. Tuesday -- alas, the first time I've been disappointed by a three-day weekend -- they will start installing the cabinets.

I really miss being able to cook. So, in the name of sanity, I've been making lists in my head of the things I want to cook once my New Convection Oven (140) with its Six (Count em!) Burners is installed. I've been thinking about the first Shabbat dinner (after the house is clean).

First Shabbat Dinner

Homemade Challah
Homemade Gefilteh Fish
Chicken Soup
Potato Kugel
Steamed Cauliflower
Chicken Leg Quarters stuffed with Kishke
Pineapple Pie
Rum Raisin Pie
Tea

That's a meal to keep you sane, isn't it?

Three Things for Saturday, March 1, 2008

1. I managed to sit through cabinet design with two different manufacturers without crying or pulling my hair out. I am so glad I will only have to do this once in my lifetime. (Though a part of me says "Wait! I have to have more than 30 good years left. I have so much more I want to do!") Who else but me would suffer a crisis of mortality while remodeling a kitchen? It looks like we chose a tile for the floor. I saw one tile at Home Depot that didn't make me vomit and one that did. I brought home one of each. Myfanwe looked at the non-emetic tile and said, "Oh. I like that one."
2. I made 20 pints of apricot orange marmalade this evening. It could have been 22, but I ran short of jars. I don't know how a person can feel sorry for themselves when they have marmalade in the pantry.
   
3. I have begun a 5HBS -- a Five Hour Baby Sweater -- for Little Bird. I am knitting it in the most striking lime-green cotton. I have given Myfanwe the task of locating a suitable pair of navy pants to go with.
   

LAZY

I am stupid and lazy, and I deserve all the bad things that happen to me. All of them. Except for George W. Bush. I played no part in that. But aside from that, it is all my fault.

How did I come to such a conclusion? Well, aside from my mother telling me, like, a billion times how I was fat and lazy and stupid and would never amount to anything, I was aided in coming to this conclusion by fruitcake.

I love fruitcake. I won't listen to anyone who knocks it. I am completely biased. I love fruitcake. I feel privileged that Myfanwe and I have reached a level of monetary comfort that we are able to afford dried fruit, which ain't cheap, let me tell you! Every year I read Truman Capote's "A Christmas Memory", cry a little bit, then start baking. Oh, yes. I love fruitcake.

Every evening, after the dishes are washed and the kitchen tidied, I like to pull on some comfy jammies, brew a pot of tea, kick back in the recliner and knit. In the autumn and winter, I augment this ritual with a few slices of fruitcake. This is as close to paradise as I can get without a city-crippling snowstorm and a wood-burning fire.

As I may have mentioned in a post or two, this has been a busy autumn for me. But each weekend I have made a batch of fruitcake. Lovely fruitcakes. From three recipes, so far. Because I love all fruitcake.

Fruitcake is, if you don't already know, rather easy in the making, but tedious in the preparation. Most recipes are very specific -- butter the tins, line them with brown paper or parchment, then butter the brown paper or parchment. Cutting and fitting the paper takes something like eleventy-three hours per batch.

Well, the third recipe I made this year came from a very reputable source. I'm not naming names. This recipe instructed the baker only to grease the tins. Sweet Mother of Liver Sausage! I had been waiting for a recipe like this! I was so happy, I decided to bake a double batch! I greased the tins well with my own little hands -- a task I learned at my grandmother's knee. I thought about lining the tins with parchment, but the recipe didn't require it, and it saved me tons of time. What the hell!

I made a few minor variations, including substituting espresso for the prescribed apple juice or water -- I like my fruitcake dark and complex -- not just sweet. But no alterations that would affect the consistency of the final product. They baked beautifully,exiting the oven with a lovely sheen and a delicious aroma. I brushed them with a boiled rum syrup, let it soak in while they cooled for a few minutes, then tipped the cakes out of their tins.

And three of them stuck. %#$@!

I did the best I could to patch them back together, trying to use rum syrup as glue, but it is obvious that these are the crippled children of the fruitcake world. I don't think they will stand up to slicing, even if refrigerated. (Tip: If you want thin slices of fruitcake, refrigerate it before slicing.) I'm so sad.

All this could have been avoided if I hadn't been stupid and lazy.

So now, dear Readers, if indeed I have any readers after my confession here, please answer me this: Do you have any idea what kind of a dessert I could make with 4 pounds of crumbled fruitcake? I can't bear to waste it...that would be a sin.

Did I mention I love fruitcake?

Done.

Well...let's see. What have I been up to?

Aside from working brutal hours, meeting every deadline, and managing not to call f***heads, well, f***heads, not much.

Today I met a major deadline. Actually, I came in 24 hours early. My boss leaves Saturday for 9 days in New Mexico, so it had to be done Friday. And I had plans for tonight, so I didn't want to have to work. So I just opened a can of whoopass, and it got done!

Tonight's plans weren't exciting -- I cooked and Myfanwe and I tried to create some order in our chaotic home before the cleaning lady comes tomorrow. (I am always afraid that the cleaning lady, who doesn't speak 5 words of English, goes home on Friday and talks about what pigs we are.)

We are having 15 people for Shabbat dinner tomorrow night. (I swear, when I planned this dinner, I must have been temporarily insane.) In the past we have had to limit guests to 7, because our dining table only seats 10. So we went out and bought two folding banquet tables at Target. Set at each end of the big table like a capital I, they increase the seating to 18. Woo hoo! The tables will come in handy for Thanksgiving and Rosh Hashanah, as well. (Does anyone need a place for Thanksgiving dinner?)

Even with the extra hours, I managed to knit two rows on the Swallowtail Shawl every night...until tonight. I had to clean. But Saturday and Sunday I will knit six rows each, I promise. I think I only have 18 rows of the main body of the shawl left -- then the lily of the valley border, which will be a nice change. I hope to have it done for my friend Nancy's birthday in January.

Must go. Must sleep. Later!