Holidailies 2008 is on track...
Nov 24, 2008
Two weeks ago, I checked the Holidailies site. Its content hadn’t changed in a year. I sent an email to the webmasters, asking if they’d be running Holidailies again this year.
One week ago, no reply to my message…and the page content was still the same. Well, I thought, they usually are accepting signups by mid-November if they’re running it again. It’s mid-November. So perhaps they’re not running it this year.
Then my Week of Hell began, and I didn’t check on anything. (I closed escrow on Friday, after much scrambling and panicking. I will get the keys either this evening - if all the paperwork gets done and the deed gets recorded *today*, they’re waiting on a wire transfer which may not happen until after noon - or tomorrow sometime.
Yesterday evening, I checked Holidailies again. Still the same content; still no reply in my in-box.
Today the site reads “Holidailies 2008 is in the works. We are putting together a new and improved website right now. Registration should begin within a week. Check back soon for updates.”
(Yes, that’s right. I closed on my first home - a detached condo, so it’s more like a house than a condo - and what am I insanely gleeful over? Writing every day in December, and reading everyone else’s writing. Hey, I never said I was totally sane…)
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A meme...to help pass the time. (Or at least, an attempt at making things seem to go less slowly.)
Oct 28, 2008
70 hours and counting down, until I know whether or not I got the detached condo...it's going to be a long week. It just is. So I'm doing a few memes, in the vain hope that the time will pass more quickly. (Yeah, I know...futile. But what the heck...)
This one's a little difficult for me. I don't tend to have really strong food memories - at least, not actual meals. Eating is a necessary function to me, not something to be savored. That said, I do have some pretty memorable desserts - so I'll include those.
- salmon sauteed with feta, vegetables, and white wine (first "real" meal I cooked after I moved up here)
- a five-course meal with friends at a nice restaurant (antipasto, bread dipped in balsamic vinegar and olive oil, salad + soup, filet mignon, flourless chocolate torte. plus the most amazing coffee I've ever tasted.)
- a picnic of my mom's chicken salad sandwiches on sourdough bread, eaten on the beach
- appetizers and cheesecake on the roof of the Union Square Macy's (Cheesecake Factory) We sat at the railing and occasionally peoplewatched. The sun was actually out, it was a lovely summer day, no chilly microclimate crap.
- Better than Sex cake (the recipe's on this site somewhere...I'll link to it later)
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I didn't have a perfectly good day...
Dec 16, 2007
I got up in the morning, ready to spend the day baking (and the next several weeks slowly enjoying what I made.) I had looked over all the recipes, made sure I had things like orange peel, allspice, mace, Crisco, real butter (always use real butter when baking! anything else…and trust me, its lack will be noticed), a new carton of eggnog specifically for the eggnog snickerdoodles, and nearly three dozen eggs. I had also bought stacking cooling racks
, to save counter space1. Mom-thing had sent me a rolling pin, pastry cloth, and some cookie cutters. I printed out the recipes, put them in plastic protectors, and planned out which I was going to prepare first. I’d run out that morning and gotten some more decorating goodies
(including edible ball bearings), a large stainless steel mixing bowl, and a small electric mixer (usually I just use a wire whisk and that works just fine without taking up additional counter space; but with the sheer amount of mixing I planned on doing, I decided to break down, spend the money, and avoid the muscle aches and mixing nightmares). I cleaned the kitchen, made my coffee (it was already 11 and I hadn’t had so much as one cup of coffee! I was seriously focussed2) set out all the baking supplies
, and started mixing the first batch of dough: drop sugar cookies. I cracked six eggs into a bowl, added the vanilla, and started to add the cooking oil…and ran out. I was half a cup short.
Thank you, gods of zonal planning, that the grocery store was just under a block away.
I put the eggs and vanilla in the refrigerator, knowing that a) I could be there and back in under 20 minutes; and b) this particular cookie dough needs to chill at least 1 hour before baking anyway - so the stint in the fridge was going to happen, anyway. No worries, right? At the grocery store, I chatted briefly with the clerk about cooking-prep whoopsies (he had once started making white chocolate macadamia nut cookies only to find that he had no macadamia nuts), and headed home. I added the cooking oil, blended the wet ingredients, and began mixing the dry ingredients in a separate bowl.
It was then that I discovered that I had no flour in the house. None. Not any.
Well, shit.
Back on went the sandals, back out went me, tromp tromp tromp to the grocery store. For the second time in 30 minutes. I got a big bag of flour and headed up to the express lane (same one I used before.) The clerk looked at me, looked at the flour, nodded in commiseration, and said, “Yeah, that’s kind of key, hm?”
I got home, mixed all the dry ingredients, and slowly blended the dry and wet stuff. However…the results looked a little bit off. While I had never made sugar cookies before, I was fairly sure that the dough wasn’t supposed to stick together in largeish crumbly clumps. I’m familiar with cookie dough that is a bit smoother. I tried kneading the stuff by hand, just in case the power mixer wasn’t doing its proper job; and the dough felt awfully grainy. Well, I reasoned, it’s sugar cookie dough. Maybe it’s supposed to feel a bit like this? I transferred the dough to a smaller bowl, set it into the fridge to chill the requisite one hour, and started on a second batch. This time I had all the ingredients, and wouldn’t have to leave in the middle of the mixing. If it came out the same, then…well, I’d have the answer to that question.
The second batch of dough looked quite a bit more like I expected…but I wasn’t willing to just pitch the first batch. After all, it contained edible ingredients. It might all bake up okay. (I remained impressively optimistic…a sure sign of a novice baker.) I transferred the second batch to a different container, set it in the fridge with its cousin Lumpy, and left them to chill 
while I prepped the spice cookie dough. That also would need to chill for at least an hour, so I had some downtime baked into my schedule.
(The management wishes to apologize for the preceding pun, which — besides being a pun — is a particularly lifeless example of the species. It wasn’t unavoidable; but after yesterday, the blogger is a bit punchy and little outbursts are bound to occur.)
My friend Monkeybard came over and we sat and chatted for a while. I had originally hoped to have some cookies ready for her to take to the cast for that evening’s performance; but this was just not happening. She brought over some of her own baking in the containers I’d used to transport the brownies to last week’s play, and I promised her that I’d have cookies for her tomorrow. If nothing else, I’d have the drop sugar cookies, right?
Once she headed out to finish her own bajillion errands, I tackled the actual “baking” portion of the day’s event. I had difficulty getting the first-batch cookies into nice rounded drops, but dutifully slid the half-sheet into the oven for ten minutes. What came out…well, it wasn’t pretty
. Then again, I justifiedreasoned, if they don’t look like you expect, they might taste okay. I left this sheet to cool while I prepped another sheet — from the second batch of dough, the batch of dough that looked reassuringly normal for something that wasn’t supposed to be rolled out and cut — for baking. The second batch was easier to work with, and looked nicer. A whole hell of a lot nicer
. Still, I was a tiny bit worried about being too picky. Cookies are cookies are cookies…and the boiled-cookes recipe I’m planning on making later produces cookies that look a bit like hunks of semi-dried mud; but when not constrained by something like other people or someone taking the cookies away or nausea from overeating, I can and have gleefully chowed down two dozen of those things in one sitting.3 So prettiness, or lack thereof, does not spell doom for a cookie.
As I waited for the cookies to cool enough for a proper taste test and prepped more sheets from the second batch of dough, I made an executive decision: after spending this much time in the kitchen, I was eating out. I’d bought some chicken breasts on my first trip that morning, thinking that I’d just marinate one and give it a quick fry-up for dinner. Nope, nope, and nope. I had just enough money to have salmon stir-fry, a pint of rice, and some potstickers delivered from the Chinese place a few blocks up. I cleaned up the kitchen, called in my dinner order, put in the final sheet of cookies from the “good” batch into the oven, and sat down to watch a rebroadcast of Torchwood on BBCA.
Once the second commercial break hit, I was wondering why I hadn’t heard the timer yet. I was sure that I’d set it…right? (This is never, ever a good thought to have anywhere near a kitchen, much in the same way “I turned the oven off, didn’t I?” is never, ever a good thought to have when you’re two hours’ drive away from home.) I went into the kitchen and didn’t smell burning. I opened the oven door and smoke didn’t come billowing out. The cookies were there, but a bit darker than their predecessors. Not burnt, precisely; but not the way I was used to seeing them. Well, they didn’t look burnt, they didn’t smell burnt, there was a chance they’d be edible. Right?4 Maybe if I frost them, they won’t be as visually unappealing…or I’ll just keep these dozen for myself. Yeah. That will work. Why waste the cookies? (Ten minutes later I tried to get one off the cookie sheet. They were extremely hard, and broke into pieces rather than coming off cleanly. Considering that this recipe usually yields cake-like cookies, this was Most Definitely Wrong. Not even frosting could save these kids.)
After dinner and a second episode of Torchwood, I tried one of the cookies from the first batch of dough. Upon cooling, they didn’t look all that bad. Unfortunately, the ingredients didn’t get mixed very well. The taste wasn’t hideous, but it was definitely a botch job. I would give these to someone who was starving, but not to my friends (or to people whom I wanted to have neutral-to-good opinions of me.) They weren’t quite at the level of “eat this before I give it to an animal”, but they were close.
I ended up making about half the dough into cookies, and chucking the rest. I plan to give them to the folks in the front office. I’ve been up there, I’ve seen the plates of munchies they have. They (probably) won’t eat any of them, they’ll just pass them out to anyone who comes to the office. Maybe the extras will be given to a church group or homeless shelter.
(Oh — and apparently, if you make cookies bigger than a half-dollar, the drop-sugar cookie recipe yields about seven dozen cookies, not twelve.)
Tomorrow: the other cookies!5
Footnotes:
1: If you bake large quantities of things, or have limited counterspace, think about getting yourself a set of these. Just about any good baking supply store should carry stacking cooling racks. I used mine to maximize cooling-space on top of the refrigerator…the only place reliably out of the cats’ range. [ back ]
2: ...not that it helped much. Duh duh duh. Get the allspice and orange peel — and an electric hand mixer — but completely forget flour? Oh geez louise… [ back ]
3: There will now be a pause for disgusted faces, exclaimations of “gawd, what a pig!”, and general noises-of-condemnation. All of which will be more convincing if you wipe the crumbs off of your face. [ back ]
4: There goes that novice-baker optimism again. Isn’t it stupidly endearing? No? I didn’t think so, either…but I had to give it a go. [ back ]
5: This feels like the first proper Holidailies entry I’ve done all month. That could mean that I just needed something interesting about which to write. Or that I work better when fuelled by embarrasment and a sugar high. Or nothing at all. Take your pick, really.
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And not just the reality stuff, either.
Dec 11, 2007
One year, I was helping Mom-thing man her booth at a homeshow. This was a higher-end show: there were decorators, muralists, window treatments, that kind of thing; but also rec-room furshings (billiards tables and bars) and home theatre equipment. The latter was across the aisle from Mom-thing’s booth. They had chairs, a huge flat-screen TV, and would periodically show portions of movies. They were a big draw for the dads and yard-apes. (Yeah, surprise there…)
At one point, Mom-thing pointed over to the booth and said to me, “Look at the little kids.” Two small children sat in the chairs, completely absorbed in Indiana Jones (the bit where he’s in the South American temple ruin): eyes glazed, faces slack, mouths hanging open. “Now,” continued Mom-thing, “look at the big kids.” She pointed to a booth across the way, displaying custom doors. The two twentysomething boys manning the booth were standing, staring across at the big-screen TV, eyes glazed, faces slack, mouths hanging open…
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