It was just me and Overly Serious Girl this morning. After running a quick errand and watering the window boxes and buckets (well, the plants growing in them), we adjourned to the air-conditioned basement/work space to accomplish something.
It was bound to happen sooner or later. I suppose sooner is better. I suppose. I was rushing. I’d had a tough day, mentally. I felt like I was too slow. Not holding up my end of things. Not pulling my weight. Incompetent. Useless. It just spiraled. I was frustrated and probably overreacting to my… Continue reading Stupid
If you read this post earlier today, do you remember me mentioning that our dryer is on strike (I thought it was just sick, but no, it’s now marching around the basement holding a sign that says “I’m sick of wet clothes, and I’m not gonna dry them anymore!”), and that I put one of my husband’s tee shirts (the undershirt kind, not the clever logo kind) in the oven because there were a few damp spots left from me trying to dry it yesterday near the fire…
And that smoke or steam or the mists of hell (something like that) came pouring out of the oven vent? And I didn’t know what that was?
It doesn’t look like I think it’s supposed to look.
For French Fridays with Dorie this week we were to make a Tourteau de chèvre.
Now, despite what you might think, that doesn’t mean Cake of Goat. I don’t think anyone’s invented that one. Maybe a Pie of Goat – you know, like a chicken pot pie, or a shepherd’s pie – exists somewhere…but not Cake of Goat.
No, the cake is made with, among other things, goat cheese. Pretty interesting, huh?
And a bit more appetizing than a cake made of goat.
I picked this pan because when it’s greased well, the cake will come right out with a lovely pattern.
I admit it. I wanted a few oohs and ahhs today. No, it’s not ALL about me…but still.
So I made sure every crevice of this pan was well buttered.
Then I set it aside, preheated the oven, and started measuring out ingredients.
And I don’t mean make eye contact when they’re telling you their innermost thoughts.
No, I mean this:
If you are rolling out and pressing springerle, DO ONLY take THAT dough out of the fridge to warm up a bit.
At the beginning of this month I made a double batch of Feta. And I wrote about it here.
I was very excited. I love Feta. And making it was nice – it was similar, a bit, to making hard cheese like Cheddar, but shorter. Not so much pressing and air drying and all that.
Half of the curds were tossed with salt and left in the fridge to cure for about 5 days.
The other half went into a brine and would be soaking in that brine for a month....
Earlier in the short Little League season, Alex had a game where he struck out every time he was at bat, a rarity for him. I think two things were at play that day - he was still getting used to the pitching machine, and he was learning to hold his arm, his "back" arm, up higher so he could get more power behind it, and this was still new to him and probably slowed down his response time a bit.
Anyway, he was, understandably, dejected after that game, and we told him that ALL batters strike out sometimes. Every one of them, no matter how great they are. They strike out. Sometimes it's just once in a game, sometimes it's the whole game, sometimes it's a whole bad streak where they're just not doing well at all. But it happens. To grown up men who are professional ball players getting played lots of money to play this beautiful game. And they usually always bounce back.
The main thing is, they keep swinging.
I bring this up not to launch into a poignant story about Alex today, but to share this with you:
Just letting you know I've had one.
And it's mainly because I was...well, let me back up a bit.
I have this bad tendancy to get great ambitious ideas and try to implement them at bad times.