Category: food

Sometimes it feels like the universe is conspiring to keep me from getting my work done.

After an hour and a half of shovelling with the snow still accumulating as I shoveled, coupled with not seeing any signs of a snowplow on our road till almost 10:30, I realized that it was not feasible for me to get the kids to daycare and preschool this morning.

Yesterday the kids had a late start due a dentist appointment, and for related reasons which I may get into here later, I ended up keeping Phoebe home with me while I tried to do work. (I managed some, but not a full day’s worth.)

Last week, as I mentioned, I did not get home, as scheduled, on Tuesday night. (Due to the snow in Boston.) And while I did get home reasonably early on Friday, it was following a pretty hellacious red-eye-with-a-connection during which I probably got about an hour of sleep (cumulative). All night. (The “overnight” flight from San Francisco to Chicago was about 3 and a half hours long, starting at midnight. I had trouble falling asleep, but finally managed to about half way through the flight. Only to be awakened shortly thereafter by a man in the row behind me, who was apparently watching the in-flight movie, and forgot that he was wearing headphones when he very loudly asked the flight attendant for a beverage. (Tomato juice.) (Two cans of tomato juice.) (Which he then proceeded to slurp.) (LOUDLY.) I was so annoyed that I didn’t fall back asleep till the descent, and woke up on landing. Then I had a 2-hour layover, which isn’t long enough for a nap, and then a 2-hour flight to Boston. I dozed off a couple of times during that flight, but I’m pretty sure that I’ve been in lecture classes during which I got more sleep. Seeing as I had an hour of driving to do to get home, I caffeinated myself up at the airport before going to my car.

By the time I got home a bit after 1:00 p.m. on Friday, I was tired and wired, and while I theoretically had about 3 hours to work or sleep before John brought the kids home, in practice I successfully managed neither.

While I have managed to get some work done here and there over the last 2 weeks, mostly at night, I have not had a full workday.

I was completely caught off guard by today’s snowstorm. Having only checked my weather widget, I saw a forecast high of 38, along with the icon for a mix of rain and snow. I hadn’t realized that these events would be after a night and day of cold temps and heavy snow. Right up to the point when I came in for a break from shovelling once I’d seen the snowplow, and saw how late it was, I really and truly thought that I would be able to have a productive day. In the end, I realized that the universe had other plans for me.

The universe wanted me to bake gingerbread.

an ambiguous array of vegetables

Tonight we had dinner with my in-laws, and we had a lot of vegetable options: green beans or peas and carrots and rutabagas and potatoes or butternut squash. As you can imagine, it was difficult to keep track of them for serving, not to mention difficult to determine their syntactic bracketing, due to the combination of the coordinating conjunctions and and or. In the end, one person had green beans and potatoes only, one had green beans, potatoes, butternut squash and peas, one had peas and rutabagas and carrots and potatoes, and three of us had peas and carrots and rutabagas and potatoes and butternut squash. (Though one of those three did not actually eat any of the butternut squash, though it was on his plate. And one of us got a fair amount of butternut squash on her face. One of us attempted to feed a carrot to his pants. One of us enjoyed saying the word rutabaga.) It is important to mention that the peas and carrots were not bracketed together, as the carrots were roasted with the rutabagas and some of the potatoes. Some of the potatoes were therefore bracketed with the carrots and rutabagas, and some of the potatoes were mashed. While everybody ate potatoes, the potatoes were either mashed, or roasted with sage and bracketed with the carrots and rutabagas. Nobody who ate mashed potatoes and green beans ate rutabagas and carrots. (The green beans only came bracketed with ham, which is not a vegetable.) It is entirely possible that every person had peas. At least 2 peas ended up on the carpet, though the carpet was not given a fork.

I would attempt to diagram this, but then I might not be finished with this post before midnight. Instead, I will show you my plate.

My plate held many vegetables. Also tofurkey and a roll.

Is it still a still life if there’s a hand in it?

I’ve been hard at work most of today, when not distracted by apples. (Or coughing. But that’s another story.) I was going to eat this shiny little red apple when I was overcome by a desire to take its picture. In the end, I instead ate a very tasty small russet apple, which was neither red nor shiny. (And now I’m thinking I should have taken its picture, too.)

Now I need to get back to my work.

apple attraction

Today we went to an apple orchard for their annual apple tasting, during which they set out samples of several dozen of the varieties of apples they grow there. It’s a rather understated event, but it gives a rare chance to really try a large number of kinds of apples and learn a bit about them. We enjoyed it last year, and even dragged along a friend this time.

Apples were set out for samples along side a crate of that type of apple, most of which were also available for purchase. (There were a few varieties not for sale, as they were rare varieties–a couple even from the only tree of their kind on the orchard.) Each crate was adorned with a card with a bit of history and description of the apple, including lineage and gossip. This one had a description that particularly amused my friend, especially the bit at the end:
“While not a terribly attractive apple, its taste warrants its inclusion in any apple collection.”

On the other hand, I thought these apples were quite attractive. (I just don’t remember right off hand which they were. They might have been Rome Beauty.)

Phoebe and Theo spent some time impersonating bags of apples for sale. Attractive as they were, they proved tricky to photograph in the low light. (They were constantly in motion.) In the end, I didn’t end up with any one great photo, but the sequence rather amuses me.

heart of scone

We’ve been going through another hectic stretch, mostly due to John working crazy hours again. My own hours have been pretty well filled by taking care of kiddos and work, plus not quite enough sleep. On Sunday, though, I got to sleep in a couple of extra hours. John was still up working when Phoebe and Theo woke up, so he wrangled them and got them a bite to eat while I slept until after 9. It was a wonderful Valentine’s Day present–even better than chocolate.¹ (Now if only I hadn’t been up till 3 trying to get a little quality time with my laptop…)

We haven’t really done much for Valentine’s Day in the past, as I am a cynical cold-hearted type who scorns all forms of romance and sentimentality, with an aversion to heart-shaped things and the color pink. However, having the wee ones around, with their spirits as yet untarnished by such cynicism has changed me a bit. In spite of its brittle candy exterior, my chocolaty heart has melted somewhat towards the heart-shaped rosy-colored trappings of Valentine’s Day. A festive heart-oriented activity was in order.

In keeping with my enthusiasm for baked goods, I thought making pink heart-shaped scones would fit the bill. We used the blueberry scone recipe, but used frozen raspberries instead of blueberries to get the scones festively pink. (They ended up more purple and red than pink, and we all agreed that we like the blueberry ones better, but they were still tasty enough for us to gobble them down in short order.)


——

¹Though John did also get me some chocolate.

blueberry scones


blueberry oatmeal scones
1 cup oatmeal, blended into a coarse flour
2 cups white flour
1/3 cup sugar
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 stick salted butter (chilled)
about 3/4 cup milk (or soy milk)
about 3/4 cup blueberries (fresh, frozen or dried. If you use frozen, don’t thaw them first)
optional: 1 TBS coarse sugar

preheat oven to 375 degrees
grease 2 cookie sheets
• In a large mixing bowl, combine dry ingredients and mix thoroughly. (Be very careful to break up any lumps of baking soda. I hate biting into a bit of baking soda in a scone. The first scone I ever remember eating bit me back with a lump of baking soda. It’s a wonder I ever tried scones again. But I did, and we are friends again.)
• Cut the stick of butter into smallish marble-sized chunks, then add to bowl of dry ingredients. Cut the butter into the flour mixture using a pastry cutter (also called a pastry blender) if you have one. (If you don’t have one, it sounds like you can use 2 butter knives.)
• When thoroughly blended, and the mixture appears to be a crumbly, grainy powder, add the milk a little at a time. Add just enough to achieve a very stiff, sticky dough. (I had to add a bit more than 3/4 cup.)
• Add the blueberries, and stir in. (I used frozen blueberries.)
• Drop lumps of the dough onto the cookie sheet in whatever size you think looks scone-like. I tried one pan of roughly 1/2 cup-sized scones, and another pan with maybe 1/4 sized scones. They will expand and spread a little bit, so give them a good inch or so between lumps.
• If you want, sprinkle a bit of coarse sugar on the tops.
• Bake at 375. The big scones took about 20 minutes, the smaller ones more like 10. The scones are done when you can see bits of lightly browned edges.

(This recipe is based roughly on recipes found here and here.)

I made scones with Phoebe this morning. It was the first time I’d made scones from scratch, but I was quite pleased with how they turned out. I was also quite pleased to be able to use my vintage pastry cutter for the first time. I’m pretty sure it’s from my grandmother’s house.

The scones were really yummy by the way. I use the past tense because they are long gone. I can’t tell you how well they preserve because they didn’t stand a chance in our household.

rockin’ rolls: bread hits of classic rock

And my brother’s back at home
With his Bagels and his Scones
We never got it off on the Cornbread stuff
What a drag, too many crumbs

               David Breadbowl
               – All the Yeast Dudes

Boulanger Records announces Rockin’ Rolls: A Collection of Classic Rock Bread Hits. This two-disc set promises to be the best thing since sliced bread.*

Disc 1 –

    Creedence Crumpet Revival – Fortunate Scone
    Rusk – Frybread by Night
    Fleetwood Matzo – Dough Your Own Way
    Iggy Poptarts – Crust for Life
    The Doughs – Challah, I Love You
    Deep Pumpernickel – Toast on the Water
    Croissant, Stills, Lavash & Young – Teach your Ciabatta
    The Bagels – You’ve Got to Hide Your Loaf Away
    Steve Muffin Band – Take the Honey Bun
    Pink Flatbread – Dark Side of the Croissant
    Croutons Trio – Where has all the Flour Gone?

Disc 2 –

    Pita Frampton – Baby I love Your Grain
    Blood Sweat & Tortillas – You Bake Me So Very Happy
    Blue Oyster Crackers – (Don’t Fear) the Sourdough
    Nick Cave and the Bad Seedbuns – Into My Oven
    Americrust – I Knead You
    Lof Zeppelin – Stairway to Leaven
    Grateful Bread – Uncle John’s Baguette
    Rye Toast Speedwagon – Kaiser Roll with the Changes
    Chapati Smith Band – Biscuit the Night
    Challah and Oatbread – Naaneater
    The Rolling Scones – Sympathy for the Bagel

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*I wonder if I need to start having warning labels on my posts: This post contains extremely high levels of puns, wordplay and other silliness. Proceed at your own risk.

breaking bread

Today is Thanksgiving in the US, a holiday marked primarily by having a large meal together with family and/or loved ones. In previous years, I’ve set the table with utensils, and served up some turkeys. This year, I want to make sure we include bread (and a few other bready baked goods) in our ongoing ThThTh feast.

  • break bread: an expression meaning “have a meal together with people”
  • “Breaking Bread,” a song by Johnny Cash
  • “bumped his head on a piece of bread”: a line from the song/nursery rhyme “It’s raining, it’s pouring” in the version I learned as a child (though not in more commonly known versions). Did anyone else learn this version?

    It’s raining, it’s pouring
    The old man in snoring.
    Bumped his head on a piece of bread,
    And didn’t get up till morning.

  • bread: a slang term for money
  • breadwinner: one who earns money for a household
  • dough: another term for “bread” as in “I’ll need some dough to buy bread”
  • dough: a mixture of flour, water and other ingredients used to bake bread, as in “I’ll knead some dough to bake bread.”
  • The Pillsbury Doughboy: an anthropomorphic wad of dough used to sell products for Pillsbury.
  • half a loaf is better than no bread or half a loaf is better than none: an expression meaning, roughly “getting something is better than getting nothing”
  • “Half a loaf is better than low bred:” a joke made by John Steed in The Avengers episode “The Correct Way to Kill”

  • The Little Red Hen: a fairy tale about a hard-working, wheat-growing, flour-grinding, bread-baking hen who gets no help from her lazy companions, who prefer to loaf.
  • “give us this day our daily bread:” a line from the Lord’s Prayer, a prayer recited by Christian church-goers
  • bread line: a queue to receive food from a charitable organization
  • whitebread: a slang adjective used to describe someone whose tastes are bland and culturally mainstream, or things associated with such a person. Such as white bread.
  • bun in the oven: an expression meaning “knocked up”
  • The Muffin Man: an English nursery rhyme. Do you know the muffin man?
  • muffin top: the lumps of flesh about the waist caused by wearing pants that are too tight
  • Hansel and Gretel: in this fairy tale, two children leave a trail of breadcrumbs to mark their path so that they won’t get lost in the woods. It’s not a particularly effective method.
  • bread is the staff of life: a saying about the importance of bread. Etymology online says:

    Staff of life “bread” is from the Biblical phrase “to break the staff of bread” (Lev. xxvi.26), transl. Heb. matteh lekhem.

    I’ll take a page from Magpie and redirect you to this blogger, who poked further into the orgins of the phrase.

  • “I’ll grind his bones to make my bread,” a line spoken by the giant in Jack and the Beanstalk:

    Fee-fi-fo-fum!
    I smell the blood of an Englishman.
    Be he ‘live, or be he dead,
    I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.

  • the best thing since sliced bread: an expression said appreciatively of something really innovative, or just something really good. Often said facetiously.
  • bread and circus: as the wiki says, since I’m too tired/lazy to say something on my own “is a metaphor for handouts and petty amusements that politicians use to gain popular support, instead of gaining it through sound policy”
  • Project Bread, a Massachusetts anti-hunger organization. I’ll donate $5.00 to them for each commenter who includes the name of a type of bread in the comments below.

image credits: bread from wpclipart, Little Red Hen from Ella M. Beebe Picture Primer (New York: American Book Company, 1910) 87 from clipart ETC.

baking bread

Last month, Magpie wrote some posts (and even a nonet) about baking bread. I left a comment saying that she had just about inspired to give bread-making a try, as soon as I got some yeast. She replied by sending me a link to Laurie Colwin’s recipe for oatmeal bread.

The idea with this recipe is that you can fit the steps of baking bread into a busy schedule, investing only 15 minutes of active work. You make the dough at night before going to bed, do a bit with it in the morning, and then bake it when you get home in the evening.

Once I finally got around to remembering to buy yeast at the grocery store, and after an additional wait for another shopping trip because I’d forgotten that the recipe also called for wheat germ, we were good to go.

I thought that making and kneading the dough would be a good activity to do with Phoebe, since she really likes to help. (I’m eager to train the kids for hard labor, which should free up more of my time for blogging. Or maybe I should just train Phoebe to blog for me.)

The recipe suggests that the whole process should take only 15 minutes. I figured that the first step shouldn’t take much more than 10 minutes. With my cluelessness, I planned to tack on another 15 to 20 minutes. And then with Phoebe’s help, we knew to expect things to take at least an extra half hour.

I’ll let you decide whether Phoebe liked the process.


Phoebe smiles for the camera. (“That was a really big smile,” she said afterwards.)

The next day, I “knocked down the dough,” which was a new expression for me, and split the dough. The recipe said to use 2 loaf pans. We have only one loaf pan, so I figured I try to make a “boule” on a cookie sheet. (As the dough spread more than rose, I think the shape of the bread could be better described as a “frisbee.” )

The resulting bread was tasty, but not quite what I expected. It was very dense. The recipe called for leaving the dough out to rise during the day, covered with a tea towel. My guess is that the air in our house is too dry this time of year for such prolonged exposure. It did seem like there was already a bit of a crust before I even put the bread in the oven, so I wonder if once that crust formed, the dough stopped rising. (I wonder if the tea towel used to cover should have been damp. I’m open to other suggestions, too.)

We had the “boule” (or “discus”) for dinner. The loaf bread, also quite dense, worked really well for slicing thin to make toast.

The flat-topped loaf, which worked to make tasty toast.


What was left of the discus could have been used as a weapon the next day.