Knit, Pearl, Scarf Success!

A few years ago at Thanksgiving, my aunt taught me how to knit. Just a simple stitch, but it spurred a series of scarves and a few blankets. Over the past two years, I have attempted several different knit and pearl combinations and patterns, but all to no avail. As simple as it may seem, I couldn't get the hang of a knit and pearl stitch in the same row; I seemed to be missing a simple technique or step that no plethora of crafting books were able to solve. Fortunately, I was on a retreat with a friend last winter and she uncovered the secret for me: switch the string of yarn from the back to the front when going from knit to pearl! So simple, and yet it eluded me all these years. All of that to say, that with the help of my husband's logically-wired mind (in contrast to my abstractly-wired mind), I deciphered and started a diamond pattern with some warm, green, wool yarn. The pattern consists of the following (K=knit, P=pearl):

17 stitches per row

Row 1: K4, P1, K7, P1, K4
Row 2: P3, K1, P1, K1, P5, K1, P1, K1, P3
Row 3: K2, P1, K3, P1, K3, P1, K3, P1, K2
Row 4: P1, K1, P5, K1, P1, K1, P5, K1, P1
Row 5: P1, K7, P1, K7, P1
Row 6: P1, K1, P5, K1, P1, K1, P5, K1, P1
Row 7: K2, P1, K3, P1, K3, P1, K3, P1, K2
Row 8: P3, K1, P1, K1, P5, K1, P1, K1, P3

Repeat until scarf is desired length.



The finished product? A warm, medium-width scarf that is perfect for the chilly fall and winter winds! This pattern can really be used with any yarn, but the pattern shows best with a simple, monochromatic yarn, without frills, bells, or whistles.

Southern-style Dinner: inspired by a picture book

About two weeks ago, I was helping out in a first grade classroom with their independent reading time. One of the students read a book to me about a family reunion. Naturally, this picture book included the traditional family food for this reunion, including an aunt's "famous" barbecue chicken, yummy salads, and decadent chocolate cake. Thus, a picture book inspired this past Wednesday's dinner.

I have attempted homemade, crockpot, barbecue chicken before, and it was a complete disaster. I don't remember if I failed to follow a recipe or tried to wing it, but either way it was a disaster. Therefore, I was a little wary this time. I searched several sites for a highly-rated spicy barbecue sauce, finally happening upon Food Network's Melt-In-Your-Mouth Barbecued Ribs recipe, courtesy of Robin Miller. I used chicken legs instead of ribs, but the result was equally delicious and successful. I doubled the recipe so I would have some extra sauce for later, tweaked the amount of vinegar and spices to create a slightly sweeter and spicier sauce, and slow-cooked the chicken legs in oodles of this tasty sauce in the crockpot for about 8 hours. The result: tender chicken that literally fell off the bone when you plucked it from the crockpot, soaked in this perfectly-seasoned sauce.

My version of Robin Miller's Barbecue Sauce:

• 18 oz. tomato paste
• 2 cups water
• 1/3 cup molasses
• 2 Tablespoons red wine vinegar
• 2 Tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
• 1 Tablespoon reduced-sodium soy sauce
• sprinkle of salt, to taste
• 2 teaspoons ground cumin
• 2 teaspoons paprika
• 3 cloves minced garlic
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 Tablespoon cayenne pepper (or more, based on how on-fire you want your mouth to be)

Mix all the ingredients together, slather on the chicken legs in the crockpot, and cook on low for 6-8 hours or on high for 3-4 hours.

Finally, I set to work on the chocolate cake. I decided to try a different recipe than my last chocolate cake endeavor, settling upon my 2008 edition of Taste of Home's Annual Recipes and Doris Jennings Fudgy Pudgy Cake. This cake is so moist and has the perfect amount of sweetness and chocolate. I used a different frosting than the glaze the recipe suggests, but here is the cake recipe:

• 1/2 cup unsweetened baking cocoa
• 1 cup hot water
• 3/4 cup butter, softened
• 2 3/4 cups packed brown sugar
• 3 eggs
• 2 1/2 cups all-purpose, unbleached flour
• 2 teaspoons baking soda
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 3/4 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup buttermilk
• 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Combine cocoa and hot water until smooth; cool. In a large bowl, cream butter and brown sugar. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each. Combine the flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt; add to creamed mixture, alternating with buttermilk and cooled cocoa mixture. Stir in vanilla.
Pour into three greased and cocoa-dusted cake pans. Bake at 350 for 20-25 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. (Tip: put an old cookie pan on the rack below the cakes, just in case they decide to overflow.) Cool for 10 minutes, then remove from cake pans to wire racks to cool completely.
Frost (outside and inbetween layers) with your favorite frosting.

I attempted to make homemade, old-fashioned buttercream frosting, but it was not a successful experience. I found a recipe on Food Network that uses a meringue base for the buttercream. I'm not sure if I failed to heat my sugar-water syrup to a high enough temperature (my lack of candy thermometer did not help) or if my meringue wasn't right, but the frosting did not combine correctly. It tasted delicious, but the consistency was completely off; instead of a creamy, thick, pasty-in-a-good-way frosting, I ended up with a fluffy, light, somewhat frothy frosting. The cake still tasted very good overall, but I was disappointed that the buttercream did not turn out like I expected. Next time, I will try my mother-in-law's tried and true buttercream frosting recipe. Maybe I should have tried that in the first place...but I learn from experience, so what can I say?

In addition to the chicken legs, we had an iceberg lettuce salad (not so nutritious, but tasty nonetheless), with shredded cheddar cheese, croutons, and some ranch dressing to top it off. The ranch dressing, in my opinion, goes particularly well with the barbecue sauce.

Overall, I judge that this meal was tasty, despite the frosting failure. My husband seemed to agree, so I deem this meal a fortuitous inspiration, compliments of a child's storybook.

Tradition: Homemade Applesauce

Almost every year for as long as I can remember, my mom would take my sister and me to Stuckey Farm to pick and buy apples, as well as bring home a delicious collection of dutch apple pies, real apple cider, and those delicious marshmallow caramels! The orchard experience was always a blast, but when we got home, the real work began. We would slice the apples, cook them until they were mushy, puree them using the Victorio strainer that my grandmother gifted to my mom, and finally, mix in sugar and cinnamon before storing the final deliciosity in freezer containers.

Due to an early start to the school year (my mom is a teacher), I offered to independently take on this tradition. With the aid of my husband, we set out to Stuckey Farm, where I had a glorious time taking in the beautiful sunshine, the peace and quiet of the orchard, and the fantastical smell of all those apple trees! My husband entertained himself nicely with his camera. (Although he doesn't necessarily share my intense love for some of my hobbies, he nevertheless remains supportive and enables my endeavors, adding his technological flair to them at times.) Once back at my parents' house, I set to work, chopping, cooking, pureeing, mixing, and storing about 1.5 bushels-worth of apples.

The whole process took a few hours, but I had the best time, which was enhanced by the knowledge that I was carrying on the family tradition. I definitely plan to carry on this tradition as long as I am able!

Pork Loin with Vinaigrette on Romaine

This is a variation on a tasty recipe I found last week in the Indianapolis Star. To my delight, pork loin was also on sale last week, so the creation of this dish was inevitable. There's really no amusing anecdote to accompany this meal, so here it is, plain and simple:

• 1 1/4 pounds pork tenderloin, sliced 1/4" to 1/2" thick (most grocery stores slice it for free)
• 1-2 small shallots, minced
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1 Tablespoon lemon juice
• pinch of salt
• pinch of black pepper
• 1/4 to 1/2 cup olive oil, depending on preference
• 1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
• 1 head Romaine lettuce
• crumbled plain feta cheese (you decide how much!)
• 1/4 to 1/2 cup sliced almonds
  
• 2-3 pears, sliced (use your favorite variety)
  

1. Preheat grill to medium. Cook tenderloin for approxiamately 20 to 25 minutes, turning periodically, until cooked to 160 degrees internally. (If using a George Foreman grill, preheat for 10 minutes, cook for a few minutes on each side.) Remove from the grill and let rest for 5-10 minutes.
2. Meanwhile, saute minced shallots and garlic in the olive oil for a few minutes. Add lemon juice, balsamic vinegar, pepper, and salt. Whisk until combined. You will want to whisk this dressing again right before serving, as this combination tends to separate naturally.
   
3. Wash, drain, and tear up lettuce while the meat rests.
4. Toss lettuce, feta cheese, and almonds. Top with the sliced and grilled pork loin and vinaigrette. (The vinaigrette can be served on the side, as suggested, or mixed in with the salad.) Serve with the sliced pears. This meal can also be complimented by a semi-dry white wine, such as Tabor Hill. Bon appétit!
   

Mon Petit Jardin

When we got married and moved into our first apartment, I was so anxious and excited to start my own plants, to create mon petit jardin. I have had opportunities in the past to grow things, but this was the first time that I would be fully responsible for my little plants; mother is not here to water or weed when I forget.
I started simply:

• pots and dirt from my mother
• free packet of wildflower seeds from a Burt's Bees promotion
• morning glory seeds from our wedding favors
• tin buckets from our wedding decorations
• my garden "catuary"/"gnome" Stella; if I can't have a real cat now, I at least have my garden cat statue named Stella
  

After I gathered my materials, I donned my trusty, all-purpose, gardening gloves (which have been used for anything and everything except gardening thus far), and set to work making a dirt-y mess on our apartment balcony. My husband wisely left me to my devices, to make my own organic endeavors while he did some intelligent computer thing. After one cycle of my favorite country music mix, the seeds had been planted, the trellis was set and ready for little glory vines to climb, and Stella was proudly perched next to the mysterious wildflowers and the fragrant basil, watching over my little plantlings.

The morning glories were the first to sprout, quickly shedding their seed shells and are now climbing and winding vigorously all over the trellis, the balcony railing, and sometimes the other plants. We have yet to see them bloom, but I still have hope. The wildflowers are still a mystery...my husband says they look like weeds, and as they still have no blooms and I have no wildflower knowledge, I reluctantly allow that comment. The basil and sage that I have now added are healthy and fragrant; I use them often in my cooking, which is wonderful! (I also recently read an article that mentions basil's wonderful stress-relieving characteristics...no wonder I love to cook with it!) Also, a friend gave me some mint from her flourishing garden variety, which nicely perfumes our balcony and flavors my tea.

My favorite part of the "garden" right now is my tomato corner. I have two tomato plants growing, one USDA organic-certified and the other commercially grown. Secretly, I want to find out which plant fares better and make my organic vs. non-organic argument to my husband then. Granted, I gave the organic plant an unfair advantage with a bigger pot and more dirt, so I guess I've already thrown the results. Anywho, both plants are doing fairly well, although our Indiana weather has failed us a bit for the tomatoes...word on the street is that tomatoes need the constant hot, humid weather that our fine state usually provides. On the organic plant, I currently have two actual tomatoes growing, and eight or more yellow buds holding the promise of more tomatoes! I am ridiculously excited each time I see growth on any of my plants!

While I cannot fairly say that I have grown a green thumb, I believe I am on my way. With the space, resources, and experience I have, I'd say I have achieved relative success. I had hoped for a larger variety of herbs to grown, but for now, I am content to wait with anticipation as mon petit potager du tomate et basilic grows into something that can deliciously adorn a toasty turkey sandwich.


Update: the morning glories bloomed!:

Becoming a REAL scrapper...

Sometimes I give myself too much credit...

Those who scrapbook spend lots of time thinking out their projects. They plan out each page carefully and creatively, utilizing souvenirs, pamphlets, precious few photographs, treasured items and so on, to create these sometimes beautiful, sometimes gaudy, but always interesting crafts through which they can look back on, remembering special times, people, places, and events. These are true "scrappers."

Thinking myself crafty, my former use of the term "scrapbooking" was to describe my display of photos from various events in an attempt to catalog my life. Translation? I buy photo albums, stick the pictures in chronological order (mostly), and write a minimal description of the photo in the provided space beside it. This is not real scrapbooking. Actual scrapbooking requires at least the above-mentioned work and predetermination of layout. And to think I dared to call myself a scrapbooker.

So, in an attempt to conserve funds and resources, and due to the creative birthday gift from a dear friend, I decided to venture cautiously into the real world of scrapbooking. Now, I didn't do any actual research or talk to any antiquated women from Minnesota who could be considered natural scrappers (anyone seen the movie New in Town?), but I have seen many examples of more detailed scrapping than my false attempts. Over the course of a weekend, I mauled our living and dining areas with the pages, mementos, stickers, and pictures for the scrapbook. I arranged, pondered, cut, pasted, re-pasted, and sent my husband on more than one trip to get more double-sided tape. At the end of it all, my back hurt, my vision was a bit blurry, and the apartment was a mess (which freaked me out because we were having guests for dinner soon), but the first real scrapbook was finished. And it turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself. Will I do it again? Maybe for our first child...

Fettuccine with peas, shallots, and herbs

This turned out to be a surprisingly tasty recipe I found in the June issue of Real Simple magazine. The original recipe is a vegetarian dish, calling for fettuccine, peas, olive oil, shallots, pecorino or Parmesan cheese, parsley, and mint. Not having an unlimited pantry, I substituted a few items (as usual) and added chicken, as my husband appreciates meat with his meals, the dear carnivore =-).
So, I substituted:

• spaghetti for fettuccine
• fewer shallots
• romano for pecorino/Parmesan
• fresh basil for parsley and mint

Obviously, these were not difficult substitutions, but they significantly change the taste of the dish. We both greatly enjoyed the dish, and my husband appreciated the addition of chicken, although it is not a necessary flavor to make the meal.

The First Wifey Disaster

So, my new sister-in-law's birthday was last week, and I wanted to bake a delicious chocolate cake for the occasion. We had some friends over to go swimming and to stay for dinner and birthday cake. The day before the shindig, I set out to bake this fabulous cake. I had all my ingredients measured and set out and I was following the cookbook to a "t" as I stirred to some Diana Krall on our stereo. I was being a very good little cook this time, following all the directions and measuring all my ingredients carefully, which I rarely do, even when baking. I was determined to be a perfect little wifey and bake a perfect little cake. Of course, my determinations to be perfect almost always end up being my worst disasters. But on to what actually happened...

So, I'm measuring and stirring and preheating and having a grand old time, thinking about how wonderful this recipe is and how deliciously moist this cake will be. I buttered up my cake pans and carefully poured the batter into them. I thought the pans looked a little full already, but I still had cake batter left, so I just poured the remaining batter into a container and put it into the fridge for later use. The cookbook stated that one recipe would make one 9" round cake. I wanted a double-layer cake, so I doubled the recipe. It concerned me that there was so much batter in the pans as well as leftover, but I decided to trust the cookbook and just go with it. Bad idea. Ten minutes after delicately putting the cakes into the oven (without a pan underneath, of course), I was still washing my preparation dishes when I smelled a wonderful and awful smell. It was like eating delicious milk chocolate that had an ashy aftertaste. I became quite concerned and opened the oven to find two violently bubbling cakes, sloshing over the edges of the pans and bursting into flame each time a dollop hit the oven coils. Naturally, I freaked out and panicked for a minute. Then, I cleared the counter like a crazy person, frantically thinking of something I could put the cakes on that wouldn't create an even larger mess. I settled for a nearby towel, and thought (knowing this would be messy either way), "to heck with the laundry" as I put on my oven mitts and pulled the upset cakes out of the oven, placing them on the counter. I quickly turned the oven off, opened the windows, turned on fans, called my mom, and burst into tears. As I wailed to my mother of my ignorant disaster, she calmed me down in a way that only my mother can do when I'm in domestic distress. She talked me through the process of simply turning the oven back on, spooning out the excess cake batter, and trying again. The oven could be cleaned later, just get the cakes baked and salvaged. As we discussed what might have caused the fiasco, we discovered that the recipe calls for an exorbitant amount of baking soda that most likely caused the excess batter and violent bubbling. I thanked my mother for her advice, and hung up the phone so I could begin cleaning the chocolate off the walls.

In the end, all was not lost. The cakes turned out just fine, the chocolate came off the walls, floors, appliances, and cabinets, and my love for cooking has not gone sour. My husband came home that night to find me somewhat in shambles, still doing dishes and laundry. He was a dear, comforting me while helping me find laughter and hilarity in the whole ordeal. He then cleaned the oven for me and helped with the laundry. (Of course, during this whole endeavor, a clip from Bill Cosby's Himself is running through my head...) I saved the excess batter and baked a bundt cake the next day (which turned out fine), and my sister-in-law and our friends were able to enjoy and celebrate her birthday with chocolate cake after all. Lessons learned?

1. Mothers are awesome
2. Husbands are sweet and helpful
   
3. Don't let me bake alone (just kidding)
   
4. Chocolate does come out of oven mitts
5. Our ventilation system is awesome (the smoke detector didn't go off! Wait, is that bad?)
6. Praise the Lord for self-cleaning ovens
7. No more freaking out over "ruined" cooking endeavors

After all, it is just cake.