It's been a while, but this blog is back in business. For those just tuning in, I graduated on Sunday (whee!) and I got a job as a software developer in San Francisco. I start July 9th. Before that gets rolling, Chris and I are headed to Europe for about 3 weeks to kick around the U.K., France, and Italy.
We leave Monday, and right now I'm still in Pittsburgh, moving out. So I'm packing. I hate packing. Still. I think the most depressing thing about packing is seeing the bags of garbage and Good Will material and thinking, "Why on earth was I living with all of this stuff?" Most of it could have been trashed six months ago.
Actually, that's a lie. The most depressing part is knowing that I sent a full SUV of stuff home with my parents yesterday and not seeing any real difference in the way the house looks. Some of this can be attributed to the fact that it's a house, four people live here, and two of them aren't moving for another few weeks. Also, I'm not anywhere close to done packing.
And tonight is trash night so I'm trying to get the bulk of the trash dealt with, which means doing with the rest of the packing. It's going to be a long night.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Shopping! Continued
You may or may not remember that I went on a shopping expedition last fall. There's more to the story.
It turns out that the phrase "40 dollar suit" strikes terror in the hearts of people who are older and wiser than me. I know this, because they read this blog. And because they are my parents, and they have a fairly direct manner when they think I'm making mistake.
If it was just them, I might argue back a bit. I find that the "machine washable" trait of the clothes I bought is priceless and therefore should boost the overall value of my clothes. Armed with this rebuttal, I came home for Thanksgiving, fully intending to be quite satisfied with my decisions.
My mom saw it coming a mile away.
And then she enlisted the neighbors. She fights dirty.
I don't actually know how this all went down. The version I got was that one of our neighbors offered to come on a shopping trip with me to help me pick out additional wardrobe elements. So this is how I found myself, the day before Thanksgiving, in Syms with my mom, my neighbor, and my neighbor's daughter.
In my last post on the subject, I impressed the importance of having a forthright, decisive, honest, and frank shopping companion. It turns out I didn't know the meaning of any of those words. We spent 3 hours in the store. My mother and my neighbor were handing me jackets at an alarming rate. I tried them on right on the sales floor, and I'd be able to wear one for all of 3 seconds before a verdict was reached. Most of the time it was "no."
We found a few suits that met with approval, and then we headed over to the separates section. Of particular note was a bright red wool blazer. I wasn't too certain about it. It had a weird 3 pocket thing going on. I was assured, however, that it fit perfectly and looked fabulous and that I should get it. So I did.
And I didn't get a chance to wear it until today, when I had a job fair. I was going to go with a suit, but I decided the blazer looked better, and it was warmer. After I got assurances from Chris that a blazer was plenty formal for the job fair, I headed out the door.
I won't go into details here, but it was the right decision. I've never had a job fair go as well as today's did. And I credit it at least partially to the red blazer, because everyone else was wearing black suits and I stood out really well.
It turns out that the phrase "40 dollar suit" strikes terror in the hearts of people who are older and wiser than me. I know this, because they read this blog. And because they are my parents, and they have a fairly direct manner when they think I'm making mistake.
If it was just them, I might argue back a bit. I find that the "machine washable" trait of the clothes I bought is priceless and therefore should boost the overall value of my clothes. Armed with this rebuttal, I came home for Thanksgiving, fully intending to be quite satisfied with my decisions.
My mom saw it coming a mile away.
And then she enlisted the neighbors. She fights dirty.
I don't actually know how this all went down. The version I got was that one of our neighbors offered to come on a shopping trip with me to help me pick out additional wardrobe elements. So this is how I found myself, the day before Thanksgiving, in Syms with my mom, my neighbor, and my neighbor's daughter.
In my last post on the subject, I impressed the importance of having a forthright, decisive, honest, and frank shopping companion. It turns out I didn't know the meaning of any of those words. We spent 3 hours in the store. My mother and my neighbor were handing me jackets at an alarming rate. I tried them on right on the sales floor, and I'd be able to wear one for all of 3 seconds before a verdict was reached. Most of the time it was "no."
We found a few suits that met with approval, and then we headed over to the separates section. Of particular note was a bright red wool blazer. I wasn't too certain about it. It had a weird 3 pocket thing going on. I was assured, however, that it fit perfectly and looked fabulous and that I should get it. So I did.
And I didn't get a chance to wear it until today, when I had a job fair. I was going to go with a suit, but I decided the blazer looked better, and it was warmer. After I got assurances from Chris that a blazer was plenty formal for the job fair, I headed out the door.
I won't go into details here, but it was the right decision. I've never had a job fair go as well as today's did. And I credit it at least partially to the red blazer, because everyone else was wearing black suits and I stood out really well.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
New Blog
I have some pretty serious kitchen plans coming up. Serious enough to warrant a new blog. And conveniently enough, there is, in fact, a new blog to handle it. From now on, all food related posts will be at Kitchen War. I'll still keep this one around for the more mundane stuff.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
And the winners are...
For those playing the home game, I ended up making the Pumpkin Mousse for the party. The recipe from Frog is really easy, and it turned out spectacularly. I substituted Buttershots for half of the rum.
I was getting sick of making chocolate, hence the mousse. Chris, however, has not gotten anywhere close to being sick of eating chocolate, so he felt compelled to make the flourless mocha fudge cake. He did it. Yes really. All on his own. We had an icing piping lesson, and then he decorated the cake, pastry bag and all. I think he has more fun in the kitchen than he lets on.
Now he wants a chef's hat. I think he's serious. He said he was willing to sacrifice his hair to wear one.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Baking Fairies
When I was a freshman in high school, I had a group of friends who mostly liked to do stage crew and take apart computers. But sometimes, when we didn't have a show and computers got boring, they'd bake. And they called themselves the Baking Fairies.
Just so we are all agreed on the image, "fairy" is not the first thing one would think of upon meeting any of this group. Not the second, or the fifth, or the last. So I really don't know where the name came from. But they earned it, in my eyes, with their Bomb Cake.
My freshman year, we had a few bomb threats at our school. Not many, and nowhere near the numbers to which we would climb by my senior year, but a few. This was also pre-9/11 so the bomb threat procedure involved sending out a note to the parents explaining that a threat had been made, but police were fairly certain that there was nothing to worry about. Parents had the choice of keeping their kids home.
This was back in the days when we had snow, as well. And there was one February morning when we all trudged to school looking like lawn gnomes with our snow gear. It was snowing hard by the time I got to school. And I had gotten up at something like 6 am to wait for a bus in the snow and the cold, and it was never on time, and I was probably a little bit grumpy. I think this was before I drank coffee.
When I got to school, I had some time before homeroom, and I found some of the Baking Fairy contingent huddled around some sort of package in the lobby (not all of the Fairy folk were still in school). They were looking triumphant, and when I elbowed my way into the crowd, I was confronted with a chocolate sheet cake. It had bright green icing, and, carefully spelled out in multicolored sprinkles, the word "BOMB" on the top.
Right about then, the assistant principal noticed our small gathering and decided to investigate, so we invited him to cut the cake. Pieces were passed around, we had cake before homeroom, and then there was enough snow that we all got to go home early.
Just so we are all agreed on the image, "fairy" is not the first thing one would think of upon meeting any of this group. Not the second, or the fifth, or the last. So I really don't know where the name came from. But they earned it, in my eyes, with their Bomb Cake.
My freshman year, we had a few bomb threats at our school. Not many, and nowhere near the numbers to which we would climb by my senior year, but a few. This was also pre-9/11 so the bomb threat procedure involved sending out a note to the parents explaining that a threat had been made, but police were fairly certain that there was nothing to worry about. Parents had the choice of keeping their kids home.
This was back in the days when we had snow, as well. And there was one February morning when we all trudged to school looking like lawn gnomes with our snow gear. It was snowing hard by the time I got to school. And I had gotten up at something like 6 am to wait for a bus in the snow and the cold, and it was never on time, and I was probably a little bit grumpy. I think this was before I drank coffee.
When I got to school, I had some time before homeroom, and I found some of the Baking Fairy contingent huddled around some sort of package in the lobby (not all of the Fairy folk were still in school). They were looking triumphant, and when I elbowed my way into the crowd, I was confronted with a chocolate sheet cake. It had bright green icing, and, carefully spelled out in multicolored sprinkles, the word "BOMB" on the top.
Right about then, the assistant principal noticed our small gathering and decided to investigate, so we invited him to cut the cake. Pieces were passed around, we had cake before homeroom, and then there was enough snow that we all got to go home early.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Superbowl Dessert Survey!
I'm headed to a Superbowl party and I told people I'd bring a dessert. I don't know what to bring. Please send suggestions.
Possibilities include:
Possibilities include:
- Killer Brownies
- Carrot cake brownies with buttercream icing
- Flourless Mocha Fudge Cake
- Pumpkin Mousse (or vanilla sweet potato mousse)
- Russian Cream and various toppings
- Mesquite Chocolate Chip Cookies
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Living Dangerously: Butternut Squash Soup with Roasted Garlic, Cinnamon, and Coriander
It's snowing here, finally. In fact, it has been snowing for the past few days. This is great news for me. My bedroom is in the very poorly insulated attic, and the snow helps keep the heat in. Cold weather is usually closely followed by soup, bread, or cookies. Tonight I made soup.
I've included the recipe, because I think it's pretty great stuff. But I feel that recipes are often lacking. They don't include any information about the thought process of the person who developed the recipe. There's no reasoning behind the ingredients or cooking times or anything else. I feel I would be remiss if I didn't include a full account of the development of this recipe. What follows is an exhaustive set of directions, should you feel that the recipe by itself is insufficient.
I've included the recipe, because I think it's pretty great stuff. But I feel that recipes are often lacking. They don't include any information about the thought process of the person who developed the recipe. There's no reasoning behind the ingredients or cooking times or anything else. I feel I would be remiss if I didn't include a full account of the development of this recipe. What follows is an exhaustive set of directions, should you feel that the recipe by itself is insufficient.
- Go to a used book store. Browse the cooking section, and allow a garlic cookbook to catch your eye. Scan the book and immediately become suspicious when none of the recipes are more than 10 lines long.
- Go back to the Garlic Roasted Butternut Squash and Pasta recipe. Decide that the recipe is boring, but the general garlic-and-squash concept has merit. Buy the book.
- Arm yourself with the necessary ingredients.
- Scoop out the icky bits of the squash. Chase the seeds around the kitchen floor. Briefly consider various uses for squash guts and despair when there's no one around to be victimized.
- Cut up the rest of the squash and roast until fork tender. Throw in some unpeeled garlic cloves for good measure.
- Unearth the blender.
- As you wash years of greasy scuzz off the blender and your hands, mutter obscenities at whoever designed a kitchen without a ventilation system.
- Peel the roasted squash. Start asking yourself if you really believe your mother when she told you that it's easier to peel a cooked squash than a raw one. Put the peeled squash in the blender.
- Contemplate the fleeting nature of life and the inexorable march of entropy. Use your garlic cinders as a starting point. Extra credit: Recall bits and pieces of sophomore science class, specifically those bits concerning relative densities and heat transfer. Consider that maybe the fragile little garlics don't need to be roasted for quite as long as the squash slabs next time.
- Set about salvaging the garlic. It turns out that there are squishy bits in the centers of the cloves. Painstakingly scrape out the soft stuff, and throw it in the blender with the squash.
- Painstaking was never your style. Throw the last clove in whole, burnt bits and all. You've never minded burnt garlic before.
- Add some olive oil, half and half, and chicken broth.
- Blend.
- Add more chicken broth.
- Taste the soup.
- Discover that burnt garlic is not nearly as palatable as you remember. Despair, and continue messing with the chicken broth to get the consistency right. Become somewhat optimistic. Everyone makes mistakes, and you were just about due for one. Decide that you'll do what you can for the soup, but if it doesn't work out, life will go on. Who's really going to care about one bad soup experience 5 years from now, anyway?
- Recall the way that, 35 years after the fact, your parents still occasionally bring up "The Ketchup Incident." Plunge into a state of abject terror.
- Rifle through your spice collection. Come up with cinnamon and coriander.
- Pray.
- Wait in quiet panic for your boyfriend to try the soup.
- Celebrate a disaster narrowly averted.
- 2 butternut squashes, cleaned and cut into inch thick rings
- 5 cloves of garlic, unpeeled
- approximately 1/3 cup half and half
- approx 1/4 cup olive oil
- 14 oz low sodium chicken broth
- 1/2 stick Sri Lankan or Ceylon cinnamon (Do not use the standard American stuff. It's too strong. If you can't find Ceylon cinnamon, ask me or my mom. If you must use American, use extremely sparingly.)
- 1 tsp coriander
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Party +1
This weekend marks the end of the first week of the school semester, and our house has a tradition of holding parties to celebrate. I'm just now waking up from last night's fete, and I feel that new ground has been forged.
This year, we decided for many reasons to stray from the typical food and (mostly) drink gathering. We added games. Lots of them. Board games, card games, video games, party games. We gamed for 8 hours. I went to bed at 5 am. And when I woke up this afternoon, I discovered something that my parents, former bridge club members, have probably figured out a long time ago. People playing games don't eat or drink all that much, and they don't make messes. We spent a grand total of 30 minutes cleaning up today, and that's without a dishwasher. And most importantly, I think people had more fun than normal. There will be more of these in the future.
This year, we decided for many reasons to stray from the typical food and (mostly) drink gathering. We added games. Lots of them. Board games, card games, video games, party games. We gamed for 8 hours. I went to bed at 5 am. And when I woke up this afternoon, I discovered something that my parents, former bridge club members, have probably figured out a long time ago. People playing games don't eat or drink all that much, and they don't make messes. We spent a grand total of 30 minutes cleaning up today, and that's without a dishwasher. And most importantly, I think people had more fun than normal. There will be more of these in the future.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
More school
My posting got a bit sparse over the last month because of winter break. I'm back though, and I found a bunch of things that I meant to post about but never did.
No one really talks about the cultural value of Pittsburgh. Mostly, there just isn't much to talk about, especially if you don't care much for Andy Warhol. People generally don't travel from distant parts to visit the museums here. And I'm not suggesting you should. However, if you're already stuck here for some reason, you should really be getting your money's worth from the local cultural stuff. This goes double for all the CMU students, because most of the good stuff is within walking distance of campus and it's largely free (with your ID).
I'm only bringing this up at all because I found some old photos that I took at the local garden conservatory, back when they had their mythological creatures exhibit. The one you're looking at now is a hydra. They also had a two headed dragon, Argus (with all the eyes), Cerberus, and a few others. The exhibit has changed now, but it was great fun while it lasted. They don't have anything up now, but in May, they're doing a Dale Chihuly exhibit.
No one really talks about the cultural value of Pittsburgh. Mostly, there just isn't much to talk about, especially if you don't care much for Andy Warhol. People generally don't travel from distant parts to visit the museums here. And I'm not suggesting you should. However, if you're already stuck here for some reason, you should really be getting your money's worth from the local cultural stuff. This goes double for all the CMU students, because most of the good stuff is within walking distance of campus and it's largely free (with your ID).
I'm only bringing this up at all because I found some old photos that I took at the local garden conservatory, back when they had their mythological creatures exhibit. The one you're looking at now is a hydra. They also had a two headed dragon, Argus (with all the eyes), Cerberus, and a few others. The exhibit has changed now, but it was great fun while it lasted. They don't have anything up now, but in May, they're doing a Dale Chihuly exhibit.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Just in, from Fark
Merry Christmas to all of you. To celebrate, I'm linking you to this year's fark thread of Holiday Traditions. Here are two of my favorites:
"heres a great one that started back in the 60's with my dads side of the family.
nobody likes doing dishes after a big christmas dinner with 25 people, so the way my family decides is by a little game we call "throwing the sock."
after dinner we all draw numbers from a hat for however many people there are over the age of 13 (thats when you are considered part of the grown ups). depending on what number you get thats your place in line to throw. we then start with an empty pot and a pair of socks. no paticular style, just whatever the host has in their sock drawer. the pot is placed on the floor about 15ft from a line on the floor.
starting with number one we take turns throwing the pair of socks at the pot. if you get the socks in the pot you are eliminated from the game and free to go back to drinking and relaxing. heres where it gets interesting...
the last three people left are guaranteed doing the dishes. they then proceed to throw for different tasks. the third place person has to clear the table, the second place has to dry the dishes and you guessed it..first place has to wash.
this whole process usually takes longer to do than it did to eat dinner. and the whole time everyone talks about past "throwing the sock" games and what tasks they have had to do in the past. the year my sister turned 13 she had to wash and pretty much cried the whole time. nobody is sparred. if you are a new bf or gf or a guest of someone you are included in the game. which generally means a guy like me is for sure not gonna make the bottom three...."
And this one:
"
"heres a great one that started back in the 60's with my dads side of the family.
nobody likes doing dishes after a big christmas dinner with 25 people, so the way my family decides is by a little game we call "throwing the sock."
after dinner we all draw numbers from a hat for however many people there are over the age of 13 (thats when you are considered part of the grown ups). depending on what number you get thats your place in line to throw. we then start with an empty pot and a pair of socks. no paticular style, just whatever the host has in their sock drawer. the pot is placed on the floor about 15ft from a line on the floor.
starting with number one we take turns throwing the pair of socks at the pot. if you get the socks in the pot you are eliminated from the game and free to go back to drinking and relaxing. heres where it gets interesting...
the last three people left are guaranteed doing the dishes. they then proceed to throw for different tasks. the third place person has to clear the table, the second place has to dry the dishes and you guessed it..first place has to wash.
this whole process usually takes longer to do than it did to eat dinner. and the whole time everyone talks about past "throwing the sock" games and what tasks they have had to do in the past. the year my sister turned 13 she had to wash and pretty much cried the whole time. nobody is sparred. if you are a new bf or gf or a guest of someone you are included in the game. which generally means a guy like me is for sure not gonna make the bottom three...."
And this one:
"
A couple years ago at Christmas dinner, my dad out of the blue says, "well, I've got a new name for my penis."
We all tried to just not make eye contact and keep eating our dinner, to no avail.
He continued.. "I used to call him Gregory - Like Gregory Peck-er. Get it? Get it?"
yes dad, we get it.
"Well, I was watching a movie the other night about the Civil War, and decided his new name is General Cocksworth, Pride of South Carolina."
So now we get a yearly update on the nickname of my dad's junk.
Merry Christmas."
We all tried to just not make eye contact and keep eating our dinner, to no avail.
He continued.. "I used to call him Gregory - Like Gregory Peck-er. Get it? Get it?"
yes dad, we get it.
"Well, I was watching a movie the other night about the Civil War, and decided his new name is General Cocksworth, Pride of South Carolina."
So now we get a yearly update on the nickname of my dad's junk.
Merry Christmas."
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Ooooh burn!
I'd always thought that Chris and I had gotten pretty good at bickering. We don't have too much experience but clearly we possess a gift for it. However, until I came home I hadn't fully appreciated that bickering occurs on many scales. The most ambitious I've ever gotten involved scribbling a purpose on a few 1 dollar bills. I had no idea what I had to look forward to. We'll start with exhibit A:
I got home a few days ago, stumbled downstairs, and found a rather sizable flatscreen LCD. This was something of a change from the CRT I'd helped install a year or two ago. This had "my dad" written all over it. He wasn't around though, so I sought out my mom for an explanation.
She said that Dad had given it to her as a birthday present. Riiiiiggghhhhhtttt. I'm sure that my mom asked for this. Uh-huh. I dug a bit deeper:
"He gave you a TV?!"
"Well yeah, I brought this up with the neighbors. They said they'd asked your dad about this and he pointed out that I'd gotten him a dishwasher for his birthday."
ZING!
I got home a few days ago, stumbled downstairs, and found a rather sizable flatscreen LCD. This was something of a change from the CRT I'd helped install a year or two ago. This had "my dad" written all over it. He wasn't around though, so I sought out my mom for an explanation.
She said that Dad had given it to her as a birthday present. Riiiiiggghhhhhtttt. I'm sure that my mom asked for this. Uh-huh. I dug a bit deeper:
"He gave you a TV?!"
"Well yeah, I brought this up with the neighbors. They said they'd asked your dad about this and he pointed out that I'd gotten him a dishwasher for his birthday."
ZING!
Friday, December 15, 2006
Plague!
A bunch of out-of-towners were around last weekend. A friend of mine had successfully defended his Ph.D. thesis and was celebrating, and many alumni came in to help out with the fun. I'm good friends with most of the people who showed up and it was great to see them.
But now I'm sick. I've been sick for a week. And I know of 6 other people involved in the festivities who are also diseased, including the guy with the newly minted Ph.D. And we all know there's nothing better than being sick through finals week. Alumni, you are all in big trouble.
Coherency is not my strong suit at the moment, so this will be random.
Dethroner, the amusingly manly blog for men, is running a coffee theme this week with some excellent information on picking equipment and beans, as well as some great brewing tips. They have guest blogger Tonx supplying the cold hard facts, but what really amused me this morning was this entry about diner coffee and its deeper meaning. Great stuff.
I have decided that there is only one cure for being over-studied and chained to the tissue box, and it is Disney movies. They're silly and light hearted, and most importantly, they're short. Usually less than 90 minutes. So you won't feel too guilty about watching one if you've got a final the next day. I can highly recommend Robots after last night. Ignore all the reviews. It's great if you're an adult because you actually get the jokes.
But now I'm sick. I've been sick for a week. And I know of 6 other people involved in the festivities who are also diseased, including the guy with the newly minted Ph.D. And we all know there's nothing better than being sick through finals week. Alumni, you are all in big trouble.
Coherency is not my strong suit at the moment, so this will be random.
Dethroner, the amusingly manly blog for men, is running a coffee theme this week with some excellent information on picking equipment and beans, as well as some great brewing tips. They have guest blogger Tonx supplying the cold hard facts, but what really amused me this morning was this entry about diner coffee and its deeper meaning. Great stuff.
I have decided that there is only one cure for being over-studied and chained to the tissue box, and it is Disney movies. They're silly and light hearted, and most importantly, they're short. Usually less than 90 minutes. So you won't feel too guilty about watching one if you've got a final the next day. I can highly recommend Robots after last night. Ignore all the reviews. It's great if you're an adult because you actually get the jokes.
Friday, December 08, 2006
Well what did you think was going to happen?!
Chris and I went lamp shade shopping today. I was looking for hat material and he was tagging along. We were wandering around Home Depot and not having much luck. This particular Home Depot doesn't stock isolated lamp shades. You have to buy the whole lamp. This is an expensive proposition, but I was looking anyway in the hopes that I would find something useful. Chris was pointing out a few things that might have worked, but finally I called a halt.
"There's nothing here that's going to work."
"What about that one?"
"Eh... Maybe, but it's expensive and I can't try it on."
"...Try it on?! You want to try it on?"
"Well....yes. It's going to be a hat. It needs to balance right and it needs to look the way I want it to look."
"You expected me to come along with you while you tried on lamp shades?"
...etc.
"There's nothing here that's going to work."
"What about that one?"
"Eh... Maybe, but it's expensive and I can't try it on."
"...Try it on?! You want to try it on?"
"Well....yes. It's going to be a hat. It needs to balance right and it needs to look the way I want it to look."
"You expected me to come along with you while you tried on lamp shades?"
...etc.
Friday, November 24, 2006
In the "Questionable Timing" Category...
Many people have been asking where I get my recipes. I have a stack of cookbooks, but I also read quite a few food blogs, and I find myself increasingly pulling from those sources. Now that Thanksgiving is over and no one wants to look at food, here are some of the sites I've found.
The Traveler's Lunchbox
This is the single best food blog I've found. It has great photography, wonderful writing, and excellent recipes. Author Melissa is an expat hobby chef who has no qualms about trying any sort of cuisine.
Recommended Humor: Seven Steps to Perfect Brioche
The very amusing story of Melissa's quest to make brioche, with a wonderful side quest of stalking a KitchenAide stand mixer.
Recommended: Banh Mi
Banh Mi is a type of Vietnamese sandwich. This version is made with glazed pork. Very easy, and much better than cold cuts.
Foodaholic
This one has a lot of things going for it. It's updated every 2 or 3 days, with great photos and recipes that I really want to try. The most interesting thing about it, though, is that it's written by someone who is currently enrolled in Le Cordon Bleu cooking school. Many of her posts cover whatever they did in class that day. The author is training for patisserie, so this is mostly dessert and bread recipes, though every so often she'll throw in a quick post about whatever she had for dinner. Bonus: She's Malaysian, and she has some Malay recipes on her site. I haven't tried anything though.
SlashFood
This site is very handy because it focuses on current events in the food world. If you want a quick overview of current food events, go here. They summarize several newspaper food sections, including the New York Times, and they regularly post interesting tidbits in other food blogs that you might not know about. They're also very regularly updated, with new posts several times each day. I haven't tried any recipes from here, but I'll assume they all know what they're doing, since one of the contributors found time on Thanksgiving to post regular Thanksgiving Dinner updates throughout the day, complete with photos.
Food Network
This isn't a food blog. It's the Food Network's website. It has all the recipes from all the TV shows, as well as some great informational content and demos. Very useful if you want to find many different variations on a single recipe, since multiple chefs will often cover the same content on their shows.
Recommended: Tyler Florence's Alfredo Sauce Extremely simple and easy. Ignore all the junk at the top about home made pasta and scroll down to the bottom of the page for alfredo. As long as you get some decent cheese, it will turn out perfect every time. I add 4-6 cloves of chopped garlic in with the cream, because I like garlic.
101 Cookbooks
I don't read this one regularly, but I should. It takes recipes from cookbooks and tests them, making adjustments as necessary. And we're not talking about your momma's Joy of Cooking either. The author lists all her cookbooks on the right side of the screen, and I haven't heard of most of them.
Recommended: Vanilla Sweet Potato Puree
The infamous Sweet Potatoes from a few posts ago. I made them yesterday for Thanksgiving and they're still good. I also made the spice oil this time. A little bit goes a very long way, so we have a bunch of extra now.
Cooking For Engineers
This is a really good site for people who aren't all that comfortable in the kitchen. It's written by an engineer who didn't know how to cook and was very frustrated by the standard recipe format so he made his own.
Pimp That Snack
This is just silly. People take small snacks and figure out how to make really gigantic ones. Check out this post about making a giant sized Cadbury Creme Egg.
The Traveler's Lunchbox
This is the single best food blog I've found. It has great photography, wonderful writing, and excellent recipes. Author Melissa is an expat hobby chef who has no qualms about trying any sort of cuisine.
Recommended Humor: Seven Steps to Perfect Brioche
The very amusing story of Melissa's quest to make brioche, with a wonderful side quest of stalking a KitchenAide stand mixer.
Recommended: Banh Mi
Banh Mi is a type of Vietnamese sandwich. This version is made with glazed pork. Very easy, and much better than cold cuts.
Foodaholic
This one has a lot of things going for it. It's updated every 2 or 3 days, with great photos and recipes that I really want to try. The most interesting thing about it, though, is that it's written by someone who is currently enrolled in Le Cordon Bleu cooking school. Many of her posts cover whatever they did in class that day. The author is training for patisserie, so this is mostly dessert and bread recipes, though every so often she'll throw in a quick post about whatever she had for dinner. Bonus: She's Malaysian, and she has some Malay recipes on her site. I haven't tried anything though.
SlashFood
This site is very handy because it focuses on current events in the food world. If you want a quick overview of current food events, go here. They summarize several newspaper food sections, including the New York Times, and they regularly post interesting tidbits in other food blogs that you might not know about. They're also very regularly updated, with new posts several times each day. I haven't tried any recipes from here, but I'll assume they all know what they're doing, since one of the contributors found time on Thanksgiving to post regular Thanksgiving Dinner updates throughout the day, complete with photos.
Food Network
This isn't a food blog. It's the Food Network's website. It has all the recipes from all the TV shows, as well as some great informational content and demos. Very useful if you want to find many different variations on a single recipe, since multiple chefs will often cover the same content on their shows.
Recommended: Tyler Florence's Alfredo Sauce Extremely simple and easy. Ignore all the junk at the top about home made pasta and scroll down to the bottom of the page for alfredo. As long as you get some decent cheese, it will turn out perfect every time. I add 4-6 cloves of chopped garlic in with the cream, because I like garlic.
101 Cookbooks
I don't read this one regularly, but I should. It takes recipes from cookbooks and tests them, making adjustments as necessary. And we're not talking about your momma's Joy of Cooking either. The author lists all her cookbooks on the right side of the screen, and I haven't heard of most of them.
Recommended: Vanilla Sweet Potato Puree
The infamous Sweet Potatoes from a few posts ago. I made them yesterday for Thanksgiving and they're still good. I also made the spice oil this time. A little bit goes a very long way, so we have a bunch of extra now.
Cooking For Engineers
This is a really good site for people who aren't all that comfortable in the kitchen. It's written by an engineer who didn't know how to cook and was very frustrated by the standard recipe format so he made his own.
Pimp That Snack
This is just silly. People take small snacks and figure out how to make really gigantic ones. Check out this post about making a giant sized Cadbury Creme Egg.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
"I'm thankful that we're not those people on Fark"
I actually said this a few years ago during Thanksgiving grace. Why? Because fark.com had a thread on Thanksgiving Horror Stories. So if your day isn't going quite like it should, just be glad you aren't these people.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Happy Thanksgiving!
Friday, November 17, 2006
The YouTube Awards
I don't generally go for media accretion sites. I don't have time, and most of the stuff that's on them is pure junk. I don't like sorting through it to find the good stuff. Recently, though, two things happened that have turned me into a YouTube devotee. First, I had to find some painting videos, which meant digging out the Bob Ross. Remember him? I was going for free and accessible, so I tried YouTube. Success! And secondly, I had vague memories of a friend showing me a video of a concert collaboration with two of my favorite musicians.
The vast breadth of the videos on this site means that suddenly, all the hard to find stuff is suddenly completely available. Specifically, music videos. I don't know why, but I've always liked music videos, and at the moment YouTube is my only source for them. Recently, my morning routine has started to include going through my iTunes library and searching the artists on YouTube to see what I find. I've also been digging up old videos of stuff that I never owned, most of which serves my completely irrational love of 80's metal hair bands. And occasionally I find some really incredible stuff that I never knew existed. Do not feel obligated to watch all of these. So without further ado, here are the best of what I've found in the last week or so:
Best Collaboration Between Legends: Bruce Springsteen and Sting: The River
This came from a concert in the 70's I think, so well before Born in the USA hit the streets. I love both artists and I'd never heard of this concert before. This is what turned me on to YouTube in the first place.
Honorable Mention: USA for Africa: We Are The World
Obviously quite important in music history. I used to listen to this growing up, but I never knew just how many artists participated. And now that I can see the video, I'm sort of embarrassed to admit how many of these singers I can name. Also, this is a crucial historical artifact for reminding us that there was a time when MJ was pretty respectable.
Best Hair: The Cult: Fire Woman
You can't see it so much in this clip, but lead singer Ian Astbury's hair is ridiculously long, thick, and shiny. I first saw this video on TV a while ago, in better resolution, and I was instantly jealous. And it's just the kind of bluesy metal that I really really like. And really, the dancing in cowboy boots is just funny. This might be my next music purchase.
Most Gratuitous Use of Music Video Cliches: Monster Magnet: Spacelord
After you watch a few music videos, you start noticing themes. And this one has them all: shots of band lip-syncing and playing along with the song, smoke, blurring, bling (the guy's suit has lights on it!), booty brigade, and pyro. A monument to the lesser moments of music video art. I'm pretty sure it's meant to be self-effacing (not positive, but something about this screams "JOKE!"). I actually like the song, too.
Best Band Sense of Humor: TIE! Paul Simon: You Can Call Me Al and Survivor: The Starbucks Commercial
I suppose the Survivor clip shouldn't really count because it's not a music video. It's a Starbucks commercial. But when I first saw it, I couldn't stop laughing. For some reason, the image of the drum kit being pushed down the street was just too much. And it's a great song, with pretty wonderful lyrics. And Paul Simon... I have lots of respect for anyone who can make a music video that makes fun of their height. The rumor is that Paul Simon is 5'2" and Chevy Chase is 6'4". And it's definitely noticeable in this video. Oh, and no the audio isn't off. Chevy Chase just doesn't know the song well.
Honorable Mention: Dire Straits: Walk of Life
Not much to say, other than we've all had one of those days...
Best Use of Puppets: Genesis: Land of Confusion
Well then... I dare you to find puppets anywhere else that have this much character. Wow. Though the Phil Collins figure bears a striking resemblance to Bill Murray. How many musicians can you recognize at the end? Disturbed covered this song and their video is interesting in it's own way. How many dirty politicians can you recognize? :)
Best Substitution of Body Jewelery for Facial Hair: Disturbed: Stricken
The lead singer, in a moment of sheer (shear) genius, decided to do away with goatees and soul patches and substitute two very thick silver hoops on his chin. I think they're great. And original.
Best Looking Lead Singer: Bon Jovi: Everyday
It's not just that he's gorgeous, it's that he's been gorgeous for as long as I've been alive. The band was formed in 1983. 'nuff said.
Best RedHead: TIE! Loreena McKennitt: Mummer's Dance and Tori Amos: Crucify
Probably the two most listenable songs in this whole post. Also known as the affirmative action category after I realized I didn't really represent any females at all.
Where It All Went Wrong: Nine Inch Nails: Closer NOT SAFE FOR WORK
Closer is a track on NIN's epic The Downward Spiral. The album, and consequently this video, were released in 1994, which means I was 11 when I first saw this on MTV. I saw the edited version, with no nudity and no language, but there was still plenty in there to make an impression. Still one of my favorite songs and videos. Directed by legend Mark Romanek.
The vast breadth of the videos on this site means that suddenly, all the hard to find stuff is suddenly completely available. Specifically, music videos. I don't know why, but I've always liked music videos, and at the moment YouTube is my only source for them. Recently, my morning routine has started to include going through my iTunes library and searching the artists on YouTube to see what I find. I've also been digging up old videos of stuff that I never owned, most of which serves my completely irrational love of 80's metal hair bands. And occasionally I find some really incredible stuff that I never knew existed. Do not feel obligated to watch all of these. So without further ado, here are the best of what I've found in the last week or so:
Best Collaboration Between Legends: Bruce Springsteen and Sting: The River
This came from a concert in the 70's I think, so well before Born in the USA hit the streets. I love both artists and I'd never heard of this concert before. This is what turned me on to YouTube in the first place.
Honorable Mention: USA for Africa: We Are The World
Obviously quite important in music history. I used to listen to this growing up, but I never knew just how many artists participated. And now that I can see the video, I'm sort of embarrassed to admit how many of these singers I can name. Also, this is a crucial historical artifact for reminding us that there was a time when MJ was pretty respectable.
Best Hair: The Cult: Fire Woman
You can't see it so much in this clip, but lead singer Ian Astbury's hair is ridiculously long, thick, and shiny. I first saw this video on TV a while ago, in better resolution, and I was instantly jealous. And it's just the kind of bluesy metal that I really really like. And really, the dancing in cowboy boots is just funny. This might be my next music purchase.
Most Gratuitous Use of Music Video Cliches: Monster Magnet: Spacelord
After you watch a few music videos, you start noticing themes. And this one has them all: shots of band lip-syncing and playing along with the song, smoke, blurring, bling (the guy's suit has lights on it!), booty brigade, and pyro. A monument to the lesser moments of music video art. I'm pretty sure it's meant to be self-effacing (not positive, but something about this screams "JOKE!"). I actually like the song, too.
Best Band Sense of Humor: TIE! Paul Simon: You Can Call Me Al and Survivor: The Starbucks Commercial
I suppose the Survivor clip shouldn't really count because it's not a music video. It's a Starbucks commercial. But when I first saw it, I couldn't stop laughing. For some reason, the image of the drum kit being pushed down the street was just too much. And it's a great song, with pretty wonderful lyrics. And Paul Simon... I have lots of respect for anyone who can make a music video that makes fun of their height. The rumor is that Paul Simon is 5'2" and Chevy Chase is 6'4". And it's definitely noticeable in this video. Oh, and no the audio isn't off. Chevy Chase just doesn't know the song well.
Honorable Mention: Dire Straits: Walk of Life
Not much to say, other than we've all had one of those days...
Best Use of Puppets: Genesis: Land of Confusion
Well then... I dare you to find puppets anywhere else that have this much character. Wow. Though the Phil Collins figure bears a striking resemblance to Bill Murray. How many musicians can you recognize at the end? Disturbed covered this song and their video is interesting in it's own way. How many dirty politicians can you recognize? :)
Best Substitution of Body Jewelery for Facial Hair: Disturbed: Stricken
The lead singer, in a moment of sheer (shear) genius, decided to do away with goatees and soul patches and substitute two very thick silver hoops on his chin. I think they're great. And original.
Best Looking Lead Singer: Bon Jovi: Everyday
It's not just that he's gorgeous, it's that he's been gorgeous for as long as I've been alive. The band was formed in 1983. 'nuff said.
Best RedHead: TIE! Loreena McKennitt: Mummer's Dance and Tori Amos: Crucify
Probably the two most listenable songs in this whole post. Also known as the affirmative action category after I realized I didn't really represent any females at all.
Where It All Went Wrong: Nine Inch Nails: Closer NOT SAFE FOR WORK
Closer is a track on NIN's epic The Downward Spiral. The album, and consequently this video, were released in 1994, which means I was 11 when I first saw this on MTV. I saw the edited version, with no nudity and no language, but there was still plenty in there to make an impression. Still one of my favorite songs and videos. Directed by legend Mark Romanek.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Why I Can't Wait to be Done With College
I discovered that the most useful thing about college housing is that I now have a fairly extensive list of things that I absolutely will not tolerate once I graduate and need to find my own housing. This is a result of extensive trial and error.
In my experience, they very quickly become synonymous with 'scapegoats'. My housemates are nice enough. I've generally had good experiences. But eventually, the sink gets messy and the same person is taking out the trash every week and people start muttering things like, "Does he think the bathroom cleans itself?!"
ARRRGGGHHHH!!!! My next home will have a dishwasher. No joke. Cleaning takes twice as long as normal.
Sweltering in the summer, freezing in the winter, and no damn light.
This one wasn't as obvious until I tried to bake some sugar glazed pork and got some drippings on the bottom of the oven. In November, when all the windows were closed. I smoke boxed the house.
Alright, look. You're all smart. You go to CMU. Is it really that hard to live your life without setting off the fire alarm at 6 in the morning? In January? Because standing around in PJ pants in the cold waiting for the fire department to arrive is NOT FUN. If you're going to fall asleep while you're cooking, maybe you shouldn't be cooking.
We have a basement. It's convenient for putting stuff in. It's a godsend for someone who needs to put things somewhere over the summer while they don't have any campus housing. The latest inventory of things that do not belong to any current housemates: 1 queen size mattress, 1 bureau, 1 TV stand, 1 futon mattress, 1 desk chair, 1 futon frame... Some of this stuff has been here for 2 years.
I hate it.
Housemates
In my experience, they very quickly become synonymous with 'scapegoats'. My housemates are nice enough. I've generally had good experiences. But eventually, the sink gets messy and the same person is taking out the trash every week and people start muttering things like, "Does he think the bathroom cleans itself?!"
No Dishwasher
ARRRGGGHHHH!!!! My next home will have a dishwasher. No joke. Cleaning takes twice as long as normal.
Bedroom in the Attic
Sweltering in the summer, freezing in the winter, and no damn light.
Unventilated Kitchen
This one wasn't as obvious until I tried to bake some sugar glazed pork and got some drippings on the bottom of the oven. In November, when all the windows were closed. I smoke boxed the house.
Apartment Complexes with College Students
Alright, look. You're all smart. You go to CMU. Is it really that hard to live your life without setting off the fire alarm at 6 in the morning? In January? Because standing around in PJ pants in the cold waiting for the fire department to arrive is NOT FUN. If you're going to fall asleep while you're cooking, maybe you shouldn't be cooking.
Friendly Storage Space
We have a basement. It's convenient for putting stuff in. It's a godsend for someone who needs to put things somewhere over the summer while they don't have any campus housing. The latest inventory of things that do not belong to any current housemates: 1 queen size mattress, 1 bureau, 1 TV stand, 1 futon mattress, 1 desk chair, 1 futon frame... Some of this stuff has been here for 2 years.
Pittsburgh Weather
I hate it.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Guide to Buying Books in Airports
I was stuck in an airport last week with nothing to do. Normally, I have a handy paperback stashed away for just such emergencies, but since I started college, I haven't actually had time to read for pleasure, so it didn't occur to me to bring a book along.
I went to explore the selection at the one magazine stand in the whole place. It was tiny. I know airport book stores are not known for their selections, but this was abysmal even by those standards. And that's how I got stuck with John Grisham's "The Broker". It was either that or "The Devil Wears Prada."
I went with Grisham because I had vague memories of enjoying some of his work back in middle school. This in itself should have been a hint. My collection of middle school novels is sitting in a box gathering dust in my closet (Mom, stay away from my closet). I keep some on my bookshelf so that I can entertain the fantasy that I'll read them again, but with a few rare exceptions (anything by Madeleine L'Engle and C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia) they don't get touched. I keep them around because they all had really interesting ideas and so I want to be able to refer back to them if needed. And because I really like being surrounded by books. I have lots.
The Broker is a foray into the political thriller genre. I can understand why Grisham wanted to explore this area. Tom Clancy has made a lot of money with his spook stories about the NSA and friends, and he has also opened the door for other authors to get popular this way. People want to read about all the filthy things our government might be doing right under our nose, and an astute writer could conceivably capitalize on this trend.
An astute writer would start doing some research, both on all those spooky government agencies, and on the man who made them famous. Said writer would discover that Clancy is more than a little connected in Washington. It is said that Clancy gives talks at Fort Meade and Langley on a regular basis. He knows all the right people. He does all the research. The perceptive and aspiring writer might then discover that he could research for years and still not be able to match Clancy's knowledge base.
At this point, the writer has a choice. If he is a genuinely good writer, he might decide to find a co-conspirator who knows more about such things and work out a co-authorship. Neal Stephenson did this with great success when he recruited J. Frederick George for Cobweb and Interface. The writer might also decide that he is unqualified for this sort of writing and his efforts would be better spent elsewhere. If, however, the writer is neither skilled nor well-informed and decides to press on anyway, the end result is The Broker, a steaming pile of dreck not suitable for toilet paper, much less actual devotion of time.
The plot is overly simplistic, with no depth whatsoever. One gets the sense that the main character represents Grisham's aspirations in life, though even he is fairly one-dimensional. His treatment of the NSA is so trifling that one suspects him of limiting his research to Clancy novels, and occasionally, flat out fabrication. His descriptions of Italian fashion and culture are equally vapid. And we shall not even speak of the seduction by the main character of his Italian teacher.
I was trying to figure out why I felt the need to rip into this book in such a public and unprofessional manner. The answer is simple. People might actually buy this book. Some poor soul stuck in an airport somewhere might see this as a viable way to pass time in the terminal. And I can't let that happen.
I went to explore the selection at the one magazine stand in the whole place. It was tiny. I know airport book stores are not known for their selections, but this was abysmal even by those standards. And that's how I got stuck with John Grisham's "The Broker". It was either that or "The Devil Wears Prada."
I went with Grisham because I had vague memories of enjoying some of his work back in middle school. This in itself should have been a hint. My collection of middle school novels is sitting in a box gathering dust in my closet (Mom, stay away from my closet). I keep some on my bookshelf so that I can entertain the fantasy that I'll read them again, but with a few rare exceptions (anything by Madeleine L'Engle and C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia) they don't get touched. I keep them around because they all had really interesting ideas and so I want to be able to refer back to them if needed. And because I really like being surrounded by books. I have lots.
The Broker is a foray into the political thriller genre. I can understand why Grisham wanted to explore this area. Tom Clancy has made a lot of money with his spook stories about the NSA and friends, and he has also opened the door for other authors to get popular this way. People want to read about all the filthy things our government might be doing right under our nose, and an astute writer could conceivably capitalize on this trend.
An astute writer would start doing some research, both on all those spooky government agencies, and on the man who made them famous. Said writer would discover that Clancy is more than a little connected in Washington. It is said that Clancy gives talks at Fort Meade and Langley on a regular basis. He knows all the right people. He does all the research. The perceptive and aspiring writer might then discover that he could research for years and still not be able to match Clancy's knowledge base.
At this point, the writer has a choice. If he is a genuinely good writer, he might decide to find a co-conspirator who knows more about such things and work out a co-authorship. Neal Stephenson did this with great success when he recruited J. Frederick George for Cobweb and Interface. The writer might also decide that he is unqualified for this sort of writing and his efforts would be better spent elsewhere. If, however, the writer is neither skilled nor well-informed and decides to press on anyway, the end result is The Broker, a steaming pile of dreck not suitable for toilet paper, much less actual devotion of time.
The plot is overly simplistic, with no depth whatsoever. One gets the sense that the main character represents Grisham's aspirations in life, though even he is fairly one-dimensional. His treatment of the NSA is so trifling that one suspects him of limiting his research to Clancy novels, and occasionally, flat out fabrication. His descriptions of Italian fashion and culture are equally vapid. And we shall not even speak of the seduction by the main character of his Italian teacher.
I was trying to figure out why I felt the need to rip into this book in such a public and unprofessional manner. The answer is simple. People might actually buy this book. Some poor soul stuck in an airport somewhere might see this as a viable way to pass time in the terminal. And I can't let that happen.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Fun with Power Tools
I'm getting up early tomorrow so I probably shouldn't be writing this, but I told some people that I'd be posting soon, so now I feel obligated.
First of all, the blog is all shiny and new. It may not look like it, but it is. Trust me on this. I've upgraded to blogger beta in the hopes that I can take advantage of some of its new features. I haven't explored yet. Anyway, on to the interesting stuff...
I'm taking only one computer science course this semester: Algorithm Design and Analysis, better known as 15-451 or Algo. It's a neat course that focuses on the problem solving aspects of computer science. It's also quite difficult, as 400 level classes tend to be. Fortunately, some of the assignments are designed to be group projects. In addition to the obvious benefit of extra brain power, this gives me the excuse to make something good for dinner and have a few friends over. My co-conspirators are M1 and M2 (not the Sri Lankan M's... different M's) and lucky me, M1 likes to cook as much as I do. Even better, he likes to cook meat, which means we get to fire up the grill. He's damn good at grilling. I don't have much practice in this area. My (dad's) burgers go unmatched, but beyond that I am inexperienced. M1 is getting into it though, and he's really having fun with rubs and marinades, both of which try my patience.
As you can probably guess, we had a group assignment due recently. Yesterday, in fact. So Saturday night became "Grilling and Algo" day. M1 brought over some gorgeous pork loin which he proceeded to massage with brown sugar, chili powder, and paprika. I was messing around with some sweet potatoes (recipe appears at the end of the post) and lighting the grill.
Through all of this, Chris had been upstairs plowing through work. All damn day, in fact. He is generally the go-to guy for fire, but he was busy. I didn't want to disturb him, so I embarked upon the task of actually lighting the grill.
Our grill is of the charcoal variety. Nothing fancy. Basically, a small enclosed fire pit that we keep on our front porch. It's great out there. We've got a really comfortable couch, and we've discovered (through exhaustive research, I assure you) that the height of the grill is perfect for someone sitting on the couch with their feet up on the makeshift foot rest. Don't you wish you were still in college?
We use match light charcoal because no one really wants to deal with anything else, and since the departure of our more alternative housemate, we haven't had a plumber's torch at our disposal. Now, I'd seen Chris do this many times, so I knew the theory behind lighting the charcoal. I diligently grabbed some old paper to use as starters, distributed them carefully within the briquets, and busted out the matches. Things were looking promising there for a while, but I hadn't counted on wind to make life difficult. It kept blowing out the fire.
I started messing around with the lid, trying to shield the coals well enough to get them lit. I didn't want to put the lid on all the way for fear of suffocating the fire, so I propped it up in front of the grill, hoping to protect my little sparks from the worst of the wind. Meanwhile, I grabbed a few more starters and repeated the fire distribution ritual. After 20 minutes of this, I had part of one side of the coals going, the rest were flat out refusing to consider ignition, and I reeked of smoke and lighter fluid. I gave up, moved around some of the more actively incendiary elements, and put the lid on.
I returned to my sweet potatoes. They had already baked for an hour and were destined to become a silky vanilla puree. Really, they were glorified mashed potatoes.
There's some back story here. I like to cook, and I have some practice at it. Chris is less experienced in the kitchen. I think he'd probably really like cooking, but the introductory process is difficult. I try to find recipes that involve something fun and interesting. The prime example that I use to describe "fun and interesting" was a mashed potato incident. I wasn't entirely clear on the definition of "fork tender" and when I went to mash them, they were... a bit firm. We didn't own a masher or an electric hand mixer, so I told Chris to get a hammer, cover it with a plastic bag, and mash up the potatoes. Which he did with great glee.
We both get a fair amount of mileage out of telling this story, and the best reactions came from our sets of parents.
My dad's immediate response was to look very pointedly at my mom and say, "So... you undercooked the potatoes, did you?" It seemed I'd unwittingly gotten myself in the middle of a 35 year debate about vegetable preparation. My mom treats cooking vegetables the way most people treat using vermouth in martinis (or so I've heard): whisper "fire" nearby and call it done. Maybe she'll wave a match nearby. If we're having company, she might even light it. Apparently my dad isn't the biggest fan.
I wasn't around to hear Chris tell the story to his parents, but after Christmas that year, he arrived back in Pittsburgh with a shiny new electric hand mixer.
I'm sure most of you are convinced that I've completely lost the thread of where ever I was going with this post, but I haven't. The important part is that last Saturday, approximately 2 years after the hammered potatoes, Chris had yet to use his hand mixer. He knew about my plan for the potatoes and had been very excited earlier in the day at the prospect of finally getting to try the thing out.
I decided it was time to drag Chris away from his work so he could wreak havoc in the kitchen. First, though, we had to have a conversation about the fire, which went approximately like this:
"Why do you smell like smoke?"
"...I had a little trouble lighting the coals. I've never done it before."
"Well why didn't you ask me for help?"
"You were busy studying. I didn't want to bother you."
...ahem... you may want to brace yourselves for the little beauty of a response he offered up....
"If there is ever a time when I can take 5 minutes to show you up and do something better than you, I'll do it. It doesn't matter how much work I have. Just ask." And just to clarify, he was joking, and we all had a good laugh.
Chris' parents were smart about the hand mixer. It's Black & Decker and 200 watts and does a fairly good job of masquerading as a power tool. I think they had guys in mind when they designed it. This thing is a beast. Chris was quite excited to plug it in for the first time.
For those unfamiliar with a hand mixer, this model had 3 controls, all within thumb range. There's a dial to control speed, a "turbo" button (not actually what it's called, but that's the idea), and a button to eject the mixer blades so that they can be cleaned.
There is a rookie mistake that everyone makes with these hand mixers. Proper use involves not turning the mixer on until it is fully immersed in whatever you're mixing, and turning the mixer off completely before removing the blades from the food. As anyone who has ever used a hand mixer knows, failure to comply results in food all over everything. It's almost tempting to dive right in to the beet mash and deliberately experiment with this property, just so you can get the experience of cleaning beets off the walls, the ceiling, out of the spice rack, and everywhere else you can think of. It's going to happen no matter what, so just get it over with.
I know you're all just aching with sadistic glee to hear about sweet potatoes in my hair and the exposed ceiling light fixture and the computer that was near by to provide the recipe. Sorry to disappoint. Potatoes did not, in fact, go everywhere, because Chris avoided the rookie mistake.
Instead, he made a different, and far more entertaining one. From a prudent, responsible perspective, Chris felt it necessary to methodically test all of the controls first, far away from the food. He wanted to get a feel for how to work it so that he could operate it in a safe, controlled manner. If you'd actually been there, you'd have understood immediately (the maniacal laughter was a good clue) that 200 watts is 200 watts and whether it comes in the form of a power drill, a circular saw, or a hand mixer, it's really fun to play with. His first order of business upon plugging the thing in was to turn the speed dial as high as it would go.
I was standing well back, watching him play. And then the laughing turned to panicked yelling as Chris, trying to eke out the last little bit of power, went blindly searching for the turbo and found "eject" instead. The folks at Black & Decker deserve praise for steadfastly avoiding the extreme temptation to model the mixer after a nail gun. And for that reason, the mixing blades did not go spinning into the wall. Instead, although they came unseated, they stayed in the mixer and continued to spin at an alarming rate. Chris quickly realized what happened and turned the mixer off, but there were about 2 seconds between hitting eject and regaining composure where I was watching the very odd tableau of my boyfriend yelling in abject terror at the spinning blades of death in his hand, all the while flailing and panicking and generally creating a spectacle.
Mercifully, after a second or two, he turned the thing off. I say mercifully, because at this point, I was on the floor laughing myself to tears. It had never occurred to me to fear a hand mixer. They've always seemed pretty benign. I used to use one at home to make whipped cream occasionally and I'd never felt threatened. The image of a full grown man being terrorized by a cream whipping piece of machinery is so ludicrous, I'd never considered it.
The rest of dinner progressed without incident. The pork was good, the potatoes were good, and we made s'mores over the leftover coals in the grill. And then we did a bunch of homework.
You can find the sweet potato puree recipe here: http://www.101cookbooks.com/archives/000589.html
Everyone loved it. And M1 had mentioned that he wanted more practice with non-meat recipes, so I sent him the link, along with the following annotations and notes. I swear, I didn't know I knew this much about potatoes:
OVERLY WORDY RECIPE NOTES (mistakes you don't have to make, because I've already done it):
When you're shopping for sweet potatoes, you'll probably be confronted with a choice between "sweet potatoes" and "yams". The correct, technical term for what you want is "sweet potato" but grocers can get confused. I bought the things labeled yams because all the sweet potatoes were plastic wrapped and seemed destined for a different purpose. The point is, you want the thing with the *orange* flesh. Bright orange. Pumpkin orange. Doesn't really matter what it's called as long as it sort of looks like a potato and fits the orange requirement. 2 small sweet potatoes are probably about a pound and a half.
Cleaning the potatoes means scrubbing off the skin with a vegetable brush or your hands or a paper towel. This removes excess dirt. Leave the skin on the potatoes for the baking part. It keeps the moisture in. (I don't know if you know how to clean vegetables or not. Not trying to insult you here, just being paranoid. I came back to school this year to find that people had been using my vegetable brush to scrub dishes...)
"Fork tender" means that if you stab the potato with a fork, it will slide off *immediately*. The flesh should be tender enough that you could do the whole mashing process with a fork. The real reason I had Chris beating on the potatoes with a hammer is because I didn't used to know all of this, and then the potatoes were undercooked. :P
Heavy cream (also called "whipping cream" or "heavy whipping cream") is used primarily for texture. It is the thickest of any milk type dairy product, even richer than half and half. The high fat content makes for a very smooth, silky puree. You would notice this more if you prepared it in a blender, instead of with a hand mixer the way we did. There's no chemical reaction going on, so if you want to use something with less fat, you probably can. You might be sacrificing a bit of richness and texture, but I doubt most people will notice. Don't use fake butter though. Stick to the real stuff.
If you don't have a vanilla bean (and I didn't), you can substitute a teaspoon of vanilla extract. If you use the extract, you can also skip the simmering step. The simmering is done specifically to leech the flavor out of the vanilla bean.
I left out the orange zest because I'm not an orange person. Your call. ...However, do *not* add any sort of acid to this. This means no vinegar, orange juice, lemon juice, etc. It will curdle the milk. (For great fun with intentional milk curdling, see the Joy of Cooking's Saag Paneer recipe).
I also left out the salt and pepper, although I added some later to my own portion. It's worth trying.
This is basically a recipe for mashed potatoes. If you decide you want a thinner or "looser" texture when you're mixing stuff, you can start adding more liquid, a few tablespoons at a time, until you get what you want. It can be more cream, or you could try some sort of broth, or gravy, or something else exotic if you want to play with flavoring. I added a bit of extra cream for texture reasons. Chances are, you'll find yourself adding less liquid if you're actually using a blender, and more liquid if you're using something else.
When mashing regular white potatoes with a hand mixture, there's danger of overmixing. You'll know when you've done it because the potatoes start to develop an elastic property. This is the result of the starches doing their thing. It's the same thing that happens when you knead pizza dough. I don't know if this is a property inherent in sweet potatoes, but if you notice it starting to happen, stop mixing. It takes a while for this to happen, and you only really need to worry if you spend a lot of time messing with liquid levels, because that usually results in a lot more mixing than normal.
Reheating: Ideally, this is served hot. You can reheat it in the microwave on medium heat, stirring every 90 seconds or so, until desired temp has been reached.
First of all, the blog is all shiny and new. It may not look like it, but it is. Trust me on this. I've upgraded to blogger beta in the hopes that I can take advantage of some of its new features. I haven't explored yet. Anyway, on to the interesting stuff...
I'm taking only one computer science course this semester: Algorithm Design and Analysis, better known as 15-451 or Algo. It's a neat course that focuses on the problem solving aspects of computer science. It's also quite difficult, as 400 level classes tend to be. Fortunately, some of the assignments are designed to be group projects. In addition to the obvious benefit of extra brain power, this gives me the excuse to make something good for dinner and have a few friends over. My co-conspirators are M1 and M2 (not the Sri Lankan M's... different M's) and lucky me, M1 likes to cook as much as I do. Even better, he likes to cook meat, which means we get to fire up the grill. He's damn good at grilling. I don't have much practice in this area. My (dad's) burgers go unmatched, but beyond that I am inexperienced. M1 is getting into it though, and he's really having fun with rubs and marinades, both of which try my patience.
As you can probably guess, we had a group assignment due recently. Yesterday, in fact. So Saturday night became "Grilling and Algo" day. M1 brought over some gorgeous pork loin which he proceeded to massage with brown sugar, chili powder, and paprika. I was messing around with some sweet potatoes (recipe appears at the end of the post) and lighting the grill.
Through all of this, Chris had been upstairs plowing through work. All damn day, in fact. He is generally the go-to guy for fire, but he was busy. I didn't want to disturb him, so I embarked upon the task of actually lighting the grill.
Our grill is of the charcoal variety. Nothing fancy. Basically, a small enclosed fire pit that we keep on our front porch. It's great out there. We've got a really comfortable couch, and we've discovered (through exhaustive research, I assure you) that the height of the grill is perfect for someone sitting on the couch with their feet up on the makeshift foot rest. Don't you wish you were still in college?
We use match light charcoal because no one really wants to deal with anything else, and since the departure of our more alternative housemate, we haven't had a plumber's torch at our disposal. Now, I'd seen Chris do this many times, so I knew the theory behind lighting the charcoal. I diligently grabbed some old paper to use as starters, distributed them carefully within the briquets, and busted out the matches. Things were looking promising there for a while, but I hadn't counted on wind to make life difficult. It kept blowing out the fire.
I started messing around with the lid, trying to shield the coals well enough to get them lit. I didn't want to put the lid on all the way for fear of suffocating the fire, so I propped it up in front of the grill, hoping to protect my little sparks from the worst of the wind. Meanwhile, I grabbed a few more starters and repeated the fire distribution ritual. After 20 minutes of this, I had part of one side of the coals going, the rest were flat out refusing to consider ignition, and I reeked of smoke and lighter fluid. I gave up, moved around some of the more actively incendiary elements, and put the lid on.
I returned to my sweet potatoes. They had already baked for an hour and were destined to become a silky vanilla puree. Really, they were glorified mashed potatoes.
There's some back story here. I like to cook, and I have some practice at it. Chris is less experienced in the kitchen. I think he'd probably really like cooking, but the introductory process is difficult. I try to find recipes that involve something fun and interesting. The prime example that I use to describe "fun and interesting" was a mashed potato incident. I wasn't entirely clear on the definition of "fork tender" and when I went to mash them, they were... a bit firm. We didn't own a masher or an electric hand mixer, so I told Chris to get a hammer, cover it with a plastic bag, and mash up the potatoes. Which he did with great glee.
We both get a fair amount of mileage out of telling this story, and the best reactions came from our sets of parents.
My dad's immediate response was to look very pointedly at my mom and say, "So... you undercooked the potatoes, did you?" It seemed I'd unwittingly gotten myself in the middle of a 35 year debate about vegetable preparation. My mom treats cooking vegetables the way most people treat using vermouth in martinis (or so I've heard): whisper "fire" nearby and call it done. Maybe she'll wave a match nearby. If we're having company, she might even light it. Apparently my dad isn't the biggest fan.
I wasn't around to hear Chris tell the story to his parents, but after Christmas that year, he arrived back in Pittsburgh with a shiny new electric hand mixer.
I'm sure most of you are convinced that I've completely lost the thread of where ever I was going with this post, but I haven't. The important part is that last Saturday, approximately 2 years after the hammered potatoes, Chris had yet to use his hand mixer. He knew about my plan for the potatoes and had been very excited earlier in the day at the prospect of finally getting to try the thing out.
I decided it was time to drag Chris away from his work so he could wreak havoc in the kitchen. First, though, we had to have a conversation about the fire, which went approximately like this:
"Why do you smell like smoke?"
"...I had a little trouble lighting the coals. I've never done it before."
"Well why didn't you ask me for help?"
"You were busy studying. I didn't want to bother you."
...ahem... you may want to brace yourselves for the little beauty of a response he offered up....
"If there is ever a time when I can take 5 minutes to show you up and do something better than you, I'll do it. It doesn't matter how much work I have. Just ask." And just to clarify, he was joking, and we all had a good laugh.
Chris' parents were smart about the hand mixer. It's Black & Decker and 200 watts and does a fairly good job of masquerading as a power tool. I think they had guys in mind when they designed it. This thing is a beast. Chris was quite excited to plug it in for the first time.
For those unfamiliar with a hand mixer, this model had 3 controls, all within thumb range. There's a dial to control speed, a "turbo" button (not actually what it's called, but that's the idea), and a button to eject the mixer blades so that they can be cleaned.
There is a rookie mistake that everyone makes with these hand mixers. Proper use involves not turning the mixer on until it is fully immersed in whatever you're mixing, and turning the mixer off completely before removing the blades from the food. As anyone who has ever used a hand mixer knows, failure to comply results in food all over everything. It's almost tempting to dive right in to the beet mash and deliberately experiment with this property, just so you can get the experience of cleaning beets off the walls, the ceiling, out of the spice rack, and everywhere else you can think of. It's going to happen no matter what, so just get it over with.
I know you're all just aching with sadistic glee to hear about sweet potatoes in my hair and the exposed ceiling light fixture and the computer that was near by to provide the recipe. Sorry to disappoint. Potatoes did not, in fact, go everywhere, because Chris avoided the rookie mistake.
Instead, he made a different, and far more entertaining one. From a prudent, responsible perspective, Chris felt it necessary to methodically test all of the controls first, far away from the food. He wanted to get a feel for how to work it so that he could operate it in a safe, controlled manner. If you'd actually been there, you'd have understood immediately (the maniacal laughter was a good clue) that 200 watts is 200 watts and whether it comes in the form of a power drill, a circular saw, or a hand mixer, it's really fun to play with. His first order of business upon plugging the thing in was to turn the speed dial as high as it would go.
I was standing well back, watching him play. And then the laughing turned to panicked yelling as Chris, trying to eke out the last little bit of power, went blindly searching for the turbo and found "eject" instead. The folks at Black & Decker deserve praise for steadfastly avoiding the extreme temptation to model the mixer after a nail gun. And for that reason, the mixing blades did not go spinning into the wall. Instead, although they came unseated, they stayed in the mixer and continued to spin at an alarming rate. Chris quickly realized what happened and turned the mixer off, but there were about 2 seconds between hitting eject and regaining composure where I was watching the very odd tableau of my boyfriend yelling in abject terror at the spinning blades of death in his hand, all the while flailing and panicking and generally creating a spectacle.
Mercifully, after a second or two, he turned the thing off. I say mercifully, because at this point, I was on the floor laughing myself to tears. It had never occurred to me to fear a hand mixer. They've always seemed pretty benign. I used to use one at home to make whipped cream occasionally and I'd never felt threatened. The image of a full grown man being terrorized by a cream whipping piece of machinery is so ludicrous, I'd never considered it.
The rest of dinner progressed without incident. The pork was good, the potatoes were good, and we made s'mores over the leftover coals in the grill. And then we did a bunch of homework.
You can find the sweet potato puree recipe here: http://www.101cookbooks.com/archives/000589.html
Everyone loved it. And M1 had mentioned that he wanted more practice with non-meat recipes, so I sent him the link, along with the following annotations and notes. I swear, I didn't know I knew this much about potatoes:
OVERLY WORDY RECIPE NOTES (mistakes you don't have to make, because I've already done it):
When you're shopping for sweet potatoes, you'll probably be confronted with a choice between "sweet potatoes" and "yams". The correct, technical term for what you want is "sweet potato" but grocers can get confused. I bought the things labeled yams because all the sweet potatoes were plastic wrapped and seemed destined for a different purpose. The point is, you want the thing with the *orange* flesh. Bright orange. Pumpkin orange. Doesn't really matter what it's called as long as it sort of looks like a potato and fits the orange requirement. 2 small sweet potatoes are probably about a pound and a half.
Cleaning the potatoes means scrubbing off the skin with a vegetable brush or your hands or a paper towel. This removes excess dirt. Leave the skin on the potatoes for the baking part. It keeps the moisture in. (I don't know if you know how to clean vegetables or not. Not trying to insult you here, just being paranoid. I came back to school this year to find that people had been using my vegetable brush to scrub dishes...)
"Fork tender" means that if you stab the potato with a fork, it will slide off *immediately*. The flesh should be tender enough that you could do the whole mashing process with a fork. The real reason I had Chris beating on the potatoes with a hammer is because I didn't used to know all of this, and then the potatoes were undercooked. :P
Heavy cream (also called "whipping cream" or "heavy whipping cream") is used primarily for texture. It is the thickest of any milk type dairy product, even richer than half and half. The high fat content makes for a very smooth, silky puree. You would notice this more if you prepared it in a blender, instead of with a hand mixer the way we did. There's no chemical reaction going on, so if you want to use something with less fat, you probably can. You might be sacrificing a bit of richness and texture, but I doubt most people will notice. Don't use fake butter though. Stick to the real stuff.
If you don't have a vanilla bean (and I didn't), you can substitute a teaspoon of vanilla extract. If you use the extract, you can also skip the simmering step. The simmering is done specifically to leech the flavor out of the vanilla bean.
I left out the orange zest because I'm not an orange person. Your call. ...However, do *not* add any sort of acid to this. This means no vinegar, orange juice, lemon juice, etc. It will curdle the milk. (For great fun with intentional milk curdling, see the Joy of Cooking's Saag Paneer recipe).
I also left out the salt and pepper, although I added some later to my own portion. It's worth trying.
This is basically a recipe for mashed potatoes. If you decide you want a thinner or "looser" texture when you're mixing stuff, you can start adding more liquid, a few tablespoons at a time, until you get what you want. It can be more cream, or you could try some sort of broth, or gravy, or something else exotic if you want to play with flavoring. I added a bit of extra cream for texture reasons. Chances are, you'll find yourself adding less liquid if you're actually using a blender, and more liquid if you're using something else.
When mashing regular white potatoes with a hand mixture, there's danger of overmixing. You'll know when you've done it because the potatoes start to develop an elastic property. This is the result of the starches doing their thing. It's the same thing that happens when you knead pizza dough. I don't know if this is a property inherent in sweet potatoes, but if you notice it starting to happen, stop mixing. It takes a while for this to happen, and you only really need to worry if you spend a lot of time messing with liquid levels, because that usually results in a lot more mixing than normal.
Reheating: Ideally, this is served hot. You can reheat it in the microwave on medium heat, stirring every 90 seconds or so, until desired temp has been reached.
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