Ouch

So while I felt good WHILE running on Monday, I neglected to pop back over here and complain about the million aches and pains I have been feeling AFTER running on Monday. I will not bitch about it, though, because I always like that kind of pain--hurts so good and all of that. At least I know I earned the hurt, whereas general aches and pains from being in one's mid-thirties and merely getting out of bed in the morning suck and are not fair in the least.

Last night we went to a really nice restaurant on the company, ate and drank ourselves silly (but enjoyed the heck out of it), and got to bed late. However, because the kiddo was staying with her grandparents, I was able to sleep in a weensy bit longer this morning and managed to GET UP AND RUN EVEN THOUGH I FELT LIKE ASS. The run was...not terrible and I actually felt a lot better afterward. Then I took a shower, ate breakfast, and went to Pilates. The. End.

Now, where's my medal?

YouTube Generation

For a good portion of Sunday, we sat rapt in front of YouTube and its many-faceted splendors. For some reason the Littlest Dictator was unusually cranky and could not take her usual hour-and-a-half nap (some of you will remember the long, long months when the words "nap" and "our daughter" did not appear in the same sentence, much less in the same day--Oh, how far we've come and how spoiled we've gotten!), so we had to find a suitable means of entertainment that could provide some parental interaction as well.

YouTube is a good compromise because one simply can't plop a 20 month-old down in front of the computer and say "Have at it." It becomes a treasure hunt for the classic Sesame Street sketches, the internet oddities, and the real gems that lie buried in that vault.

We did indeed find some good ones.

Behold, the internet gems:

When Johnny Cash and Sesame Street collide, there can only be happiness.

The classic Sesame Street:

Does anyone else remember Fred the Wonder Horse? I wonder what happened to him. Also, I love the look on her face when she gets to the line "Now the girls up on Cripple Creek about half grown jump on a boy like a dog on a bone." Priceless.

And one web oddity:

Can you believe this appeared on children's television? I'm so impressed with this show. Boy, the 70's was a different time, eh?

But I made up for all the sitting we did over the weekend (it was pretty stormy around here, too) when this morning, at a quarter to six, I embarked on my first run of the Couch to 5K program. Yeah, it was painful to get up and have to do anything other than check my email and drink my coffee, but it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be.

For one, unlike the last time I completed this program, oh, about five years ago, this time I had myself a podcast. Some enterprising soul has set this program up to music, timed it, and narrated the transitions. It made such a huge psychological difference and really seemed to fly by. I remember the first running interval seemed to last a nanosecond. I seriously thought he'd timed it incorrectly. Of course, by the end, when I was getting tired, they mysteriously got much longer even though they were still only 60 sec., but at least I didn't have to keep checking my watch or watch the treadmill monitor to count it down. I tell you, 20 sec. on your timer seems to last FOR. ever. while you're running and watching those numbers tick away. If you can just run, listen to music at the perfect tempo, look at the scenery and focus on your breathing and posture, then it's like a mini-vacation (OK, almost). Seeing as how I only have to complete this three mornings a week (M-W-F for me), I know it is totally doable.

And if you're considering doing it, know that the podcast really helps the experience tremendously. I highly recommend it.

So thanks to my friend Bill who suggested, when I bitched to him about the ten pounds I want to lose, that I start running. I wouldn't have even started doing it had it not been for him because I'd "been there, done that." Well, I can tell you I have never started running while I was in this good of shape, and it has made a huge difference, too. When I returned, I did not feel that I had been running outside in Mississippi in June (about 75 degrees at dawn), but felt so refreshed. Since I can't go to yoga this week due to the in-laws being OOT, I'm proud of myself for having gotten my butt out of bed and done something just for me. And on a Monday, of all things.

Wednesday could be a different story, however, so check back in later. I'll keep you posted.

Eleven Elvis's Devil's Evil Velvet Cakes

And furthermore--Moses supposes his toeses are roses but Moses supposes erroneously.

And while we're on the subject of Moses and his fellow prophets, who all urged us to repent and change our ways, I have a confession. I ordered another cookbook.

I couldn't resist the lure of Martha Hall Foose and her evil, evil temptations.

The wings are the gateway food which did me in. From my first bite, I was a goner.

And so now I own, have both read and baked from this book, and I can say without reservation it is a great cookbook. The gorgeous quirky photos (not all of which are food. But many are.), the stories and weird little tips, legends, and bits and bobs of local color...it's a beautifully designed and executed book and I am proud to have to make room for it on my shelves. I can already spot a couple of books I'm going to have to get rid of, actually, which I will never miss. But I would have missed out if I had not ordered and read this one cover-to-cover. It was a great read, too, and one that left me salivating and wanting to make about ten things that very evening.

However, I did show restraint--I do have some tucked away somewhere. And I only made three things. And not all that night, but over the next two days.

Two of the recipes I tried were vegetable dishes, one a succotash recipe that made me say "Sufferin' Succotash" to myself and everyone to whom I mentioned it. The other was a cauliflower recipe involving lots of olive oil, garlic, and bread crumbs. Both were quite good, actually.

The third was a cake recipe. I'm not much of a baker. I make bread and cookies, but I almost never bake cakes. They are very fussy and aren't nearly as satisfying as I think they should be. I read about cakes and taste my ideal version--a Platonic conception that springs from some place deep inside. I doubt I shall ever make one myself that will taste that good, in fact, because it is probably so unrealistic. But I try now and then. I'm just not that great at it probably because I do not enjoy it very much, but I really love having friends who are good cake bakers. Sort of like having friends who own boats or beach houses. They are all part of the same elite society--people I wish I knew.

So when I saw a recipe for a "red velvet" cake that required no red food coloring, I was intrigued. Maybe I could be a cake baker after all, one who brought cakes to potlucks and church socials, one who was known widely for a certain cake recipe so delicious everyone clamors for me to bring it. I think I have been reading too many Jan Karon novels because if I know one thing about myself it is that I will never be known for one certain recipe, I can assure you. I am too ADD in the kitchen and I like variety. The thought of making one recipe, especially cake, over and over again sort of makes me want to poke out my eyeballs with a candy thermometer, but I am quite a romantic soul and I have a vivid fantasy life. So red velvet cake it was.

I was very curious about the ingredients of this confection because though the subtitle of the recipe is "Red Velvet," the supratitle is "The Devil's Own." Which made me think Devil's Food. However, she says--and I shall quote to allow you to share in my confusion--"Most red velvet cakes involve at least 1/4 cup of red food coloring and have a cake-mix-ishness about them. This red-tinged cake gets its color naturally. I love the contrasts of textures in this updated version of chewy cake and fluffy, crisp seven-minute frosting."

Sounds great, right? The whole idea of a "naturally" red cake was just too much. I had to see what it looked like (there was only a photo of a red dirt Delta soybean field. No cake.).

So after a late afternoon run to the store to get buttermilk and some bittersweet chocolate (that should have been a clue right there), I fed and put the kid to bed, cleaned the kitchen, (avoided sitting down because I was so beat by this point) and got to baking. I followed the recipe exactly (except for the kind of sugar I used in the icing), used up A LOT of bowls (hate that), and tasted the batter *a lot* along the way because I maybe forgot to eat dinner.

A couple of hours later, I had this:

Seven-minute frosting is my favorite, I think. Although, with only turbinado sugar in the house (duhr), it was sorta beige.

Also, hello, forlorn rarely-used cake stand. Nice to see you. You look nice on my counter.

As you know if you know me at all, I could not wait for it to cool completely. I had to try it.

Very much not red. Nope, not red at all, fact. Dark, dark brown.

But tasty. Not Platonic-conception-of-cake tasty, but only a little dense, not too sweet--and definitely chocolate, not red velvet. I would not be embarrassed to bring this anywhere, but I would be ashamed to call it a red velvet cake. Martha Foose, while I love your wing sauce with a purple passion, I am confounded by your cake nomenclature. Please come over to my house for a nice warm piece and explain yourself.

Having been plagued with one cranky toddler and a perplexing, though charming, cookbook, I was forced to drag out the nail polish.

Her first pedicure. Though she sat remarkably still and didn't try to touch it much, I was grateful for the Sally Hanson "Kwik Dry" potion I smeared over it at the end. What was really cute was when she would forget they were painted and then would catch a glimpse of them and squeal with delight, pointing and laughing at her feet. As funny the first time as the hundredth. I love toddlers.

Quilt Love--Fruit Salad

I just completed the backing up and sorting out of photos and music to my external HD. My hard drive starts to look scary after a few months, like the floor of my closet, and in desperate need of some attention. It takes me two days to do it, honestly, because I'm so impatient. I have to start something and then walk away. Repeat ad infinitum. In the midst of backing up, I'm also uploading photos to my Kodakgallery site for emailing to loved ones. And also editing the gems for the fam (separate for editing that I do for the blog since the file sizes are different). It sort of takes forever. And a day, since I have about six weeks' worth of pics to wade through.

An organized person might urge me to do it more often so I would not have this problem, and I might say to that person, stuff it, m'kay? I manage. Actually, I kind of worry about the state of my Mac seeing as how I do relatively little in the way of maintenance on my laptop. I don't have any sort of scan disk program or anything. It's kind of a fend-for-yourself Darwinian environment here at Chez Evans when it comes to technology. That is why I try to back-up occasionally, even if it takes me two days. Really if my computer didn't start to bog down, I might never think to do it, so I'm grateful for the annoyances. They keep me on my toes.

Though maybe if a Mac person out there has some advice on any maintenance I *should* be doing, that person might be kind enough to let me know. I would be greatly appreciative. My Finder tells me I have 7.75 GB available, and that's AFTER I've deleted 1200 photos. I remember the day when 7 gigs of memory might make my heart go aflutter. Now, of course, that seems so small and my heart palpitates for an entirely different reason. Oh, now I remember why I don't like to do computer maintenance. I don't think about my computer's mortality, sort of for the same reason I try not to dwell on my own. It's a pain in the ass.

So anyway, quilting.

I mentioned the other day that I needed to drag out my quilt project I'd started a while back--almost a year ago to the day now that I've looked back! Amazing how seasonal some urges are.

Anyway, unlike all the other things I *should* be doing and say so to myself, I actually did this one. (!) I finished sewing up the two remaining sides on the binding, which was very compelling, and threw that sucker in the washer. I have heard before that washing a newly-completed quilt was the sewer's equivalent of watching Matt Damon's latest installment of the Bourne series, but really, it was...almost that good.

The crinkly soft creation that emerged from the dryer was so satisfying. If it were larger, I would have wrapped myself up in it immediately. However, as it was, the kiddo enjoyed it just as much. For some reason, playing on it as it is spread out upon the floor is infinitely more fun than mere carpet for tea parties and such. Maybe someone out there can explain it to me.

For this project, I used fabrics from Superbuzzy and maybe Repro Depot. I don't remember, to be honest. I patterned it after Crazy Aunt Kay's quilt because I loved it so much. My grandmother looked a little askance when I showed it to her, like "You know that isn't a pattern, right?" Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.

Also, I had to apologize to my 84 year old grandmother for not hand-piecing and hand-quilting it. I knit, OK? A person can only have so many tedious hobbies in one lifetime. (Let's not even talk about the blogging.)

Actually I enjoyed the designing and color-coordinating part of this project. I had a bowl of citrus fruit in mind when I created this one. The basting of the binding wasn't that bad, either. It went fairly quickly once I got into it (despite the 10 month delay--yikes!). Overall, I give quilting two thumbs up. I'd definitely consider doing another one of these in the near future.

And I do have one satisfied customer. So that's something else to be proud of.

Summer starts with a bang, not a whimper

Saturday morning, we embarked on our first blueberry picking adventure. Expecting the worst hot humid weather under boiling sun, we slathered ourselves in sunscreen and wore our coolest clothes. However, we were pleased to see that with the overnight thunderstorm, the weather was mild and the blueberry patch was shady. Despite the difficulty we had in finding the farm (the state had re-routed the road and not labeled ANYthing), it was actually a wonderfully relaxing and fun morning, and even with all the snacking we did, we were able to collect TWO gallons of blueberries. Do you know how long it takes to pick a gallon of blueberries? Not in the time it takes to eat them, I can tell you that.

I make a point never to ask her to pose for a photo (maybe to stand still, but not necessarily to smile), so I was shocked when she struck this pose all by herself. Who is this kid? She looks like a teenager. I'm pretty sure she's about to ask me to borrow the car.

It was a beautiful morning. And then! About five seconds after we all piled in the car, the bottom fell out and we drove home in the driving rain. Perfect timing, eh?

The weather continued to surprise us over the weekend with some crazy storms. Later that afternoon, we dropped the kiddo off at her grammie's house and drove home in the start of another thunderstorm. I stopped for gas and I got out to pump (since I was driving). Even though we were covered with an awning and the rain wasn't bothering me, the thunder and lightening sure were. Just as I finished filling up with my $1000 worth of gas, a bolt of lightening struck something nearby and I greatly hastened my closing of the gas tank in order to dive headfirst into the car where my hunkered down hubby huddled looking both scared and amused. I'm sure the look on my face was pretty funny. I could just imagine us, a large SUV-shaped lightening-ignited firebomb, and right AFTER I'd just filled up, too. What a waste of fuel.

It turned out to be quite an electrical storm when, as we drove home, the bolts struck targets just ahead of us the entire ten or fifteen minutes back to the house. And so there we sat in the driveway, petrified of leaving our car, jumping out of our skins every few minutes when it made contact with trees and houses all around us.

One might think that hubbo, being intimately acquainted with the physical behavior of electrons, would have been less frightened, but no. Quite the opposite, actually. Which, not surprisingly, did not make me feel any better, either. Especially when he described what would have happened were our car to be struck while we were sitting in it. I believe his words of advice were "Don't touch anything metal." Gee, thanks, there, hon. I feel tons better.

So he hatched an escape plan. Wait for a bolt and a clap of thunder, allowing the energy to discharge, and then make a break for it before it has a chance to build up again. Mind you, there were still torrential downpours, but I did not seem to mind this so much given the alternatives. So, one at a time (he went first to get the house unlocked), we ran for it, as though we were avoiding sniper fire. And then we stood smugly inside, watching the rest of the storm, though I didn't find it nearly as fascinating as I might have ten minutes before. I was mainly glad it was over!

So that I could go inside and enjoy my blueberries. Later, we went out for an adult evening which included tapas, 'tinis, and...blueberry salsa*! Which we shared with our friends, blueberry salsa virgins. I think they enjoyed it, though. Ummm, makes me want to go make some right now.

* Whiz together in the cuisinart: two cups of blueberries, a small red onion, a jalapeno or two (with or without seeds, depending on how spicy you like it), a bunch of cilantro. Stir in the juice of one lime, another cup of whole blueberries, and a half teaspoon of salt. Serve with your chip of choice.

Gilding the Lily

My 84 year old grandmother uses White Lily flour and makes biscuits every single day of her life though no one, including her, can tell you the recipe.

So I was saddened to read this article in the NYT about the move of the White Lily flour mill away from Knoxville. It seems sad to move it anywhere at all, given the magic qualities of this flour, but particularly to a northern location. Isn't that somehow illegal? Akin to making American flags overseas or something? I remain very skeptical that this is going to work. I will have to check with the grandmother to see how the biscuits are holding up.

Also, YES, I am knitting a sock! I have not wanted to talk about it and jinx myself since every project I have started in the last year or so has ended up in a bag somewhere in UFO land. I have cast on for the second sock, though, and am hoping to be done with it soon. It is not my first pair of socks (not by a long shot), but it is the FIRST PAIR I have ever knit for myself. I was hoping this would motivate me enough to finish it. Selfish creature that I am. Turns out, I am smart because SHHH it seems to be working...

Food stuffs

I bet if you looked in the annals of important holiday-related meals, alongside July 4th picnics, Thanksgiving dinners, Memorial day barbecues, Valentine's Day romantic soirées, and Christmas cookies, one would also discover Father's Day chicken wing feasts. It makes sense that Father's Day weekend would be one of the greatest times in my recent memory in which I have been totally obsessed with cooking. After all, most dads are men (last I checked), and most men love to eat (though that is a total stereotype because most women love to eat, too, but they just might not be as quick to admit it). But then *I'm* not a dad and I love to cook, so I think I've lost even myself in this rationale.

Anyway, point being, I have several recipes to share, and no pictures! Not of the food anyway--none of it is particularly photogenic--, but I will try to distract you with photos of other things (and people) I love so perhaps you won't hold it against me.

First of all, allow me to give you an update on the bean situation. I did cook a pot last week, as per instructions on Angry Chicken, which involved slow cooking in the oven. However, I realized at the last minute that I had no idea whether 2 hours at 250º meant covered or uncovered. I opted for leaving off the lid and ended up at the end of two hours with rather crunchy beans. So I put the lid on and cooked them for another *hour* and finally, they were done. Good thing I had started early! It left me enough time to simmer them a little longer with some slices of smoked ham I had in the freezer, to give the beans a little smoky flavor which it was seriously lacking. I wonder sometimes if I have burned off my taste buds in my inability to wait until things have cooled down enough to eat them because I often cook recipes and find them...lacking. Maybe that is due to differences in Northern/Southern ways of cooking, one perhaps relying on clean flavors from olive oil and, you know, a smidge of garlic and maybe just the slightest hint of onion, while the other doesn't hesitate to slather on the fat, salt, and Tabasco. Topping it all with a nice hefty layer of crushed potato chips (kidding). I tried cooking it Amy's way and then had to cave to the pork products. So sue me.

Anyway, I finally polished off the beans this week when I made a corn and bean salad with a red wine vinaigrette. Still working on that one, actually.

I've really been craving salads lately, but not the usual lettuce-y (healthy) kind, though those are sometimes nice, too. Lately I've preferred the variations on a theme, like the aforementioned corn/bean salad or a pasta salad or chicken salad, etc. I'm all about the deli salads.

But I have craved more veggies and wanted a more enticing way to eat them rather than cooking them as side dishes or just eating them plain. When I came across a recipe for an herbed cottage cheese dip for crudités, I thought, "Bingo!" It's from the wonderful Frank Stitt's book (blogged here) which I inevitably dig out every summer because its strengths are the very tempting concoctions with local fresh produce, as well as the tantalizing photos of the farmers' market stalls scattered throughout.

And, not surprisingly, the dip is quite delicious. I used whole milk cottage cheese, but should have drained it first. If anything, the dip suffers from being a little watery due to the high vegetable content, but with some hefty crackers or a good piece of celery, one can easily overlook this flaw in the batch I made. I think, the next time I make it I will strain the ingredients and pat the veggies dry first. It should make a big difference.

Above all, I was shocked at how flavorful it all was and how healthful! I rarely like truly healthy food, so indeed, that part was a surprise. But I think even kids would enjoy it, though I haven't tried it on mine yet. I'm not sure Her Highness can appreciate it. But you know, she ate salsa for dinner with a spoon the other night and I never thought a 20 month old would do that either, so one never knows.

Marie's Herbed Cottage Cheese Dip and Crudités (Serves 8)

I only made half a serving, but given the amount of chopping it required, I should have just made the whole batch rather than using just *half* a cucumber. Since I had the knife going anyway, it would not have been much more trouble at all.

For the dip (makes 3 cups)
2 cups cottage cheese
2 tbsp. mayonnaise--And for the love of all that is holy, use full fat, people, no one needs sugar in her mayo!
1 heaping tsp. Dijon mustard
1 tbsp. red wine vinegar
1/2 tsp freshly cracked black pepper
1 scant tbsp. chopped chives
1 scant tbsp. chopped dill
1 scant tbsp. chopped flat-leaf parsley
2 scallions, finely chopped
1 cucumber, peeled, halved lengthwise, seeded and cut into tiny dice
2 small carrots, peeled and cut into tiny dice
2 celery stalks, cut into tiny dice
1/2 red bell pepper, cored, seeded, and cut into tiny dice (optional)

For the crudités
2 red bell peppers, cored, seeded, and cut into 1/2 in. wide stripes
4 carrots, peeled and cut into 3 by 1/2 in. strips
2 celery stalks, cut into 3 by 1/2 inch strips
2 cucumbers, peeled, halved lengthwise, seeded, and cut into 3 by 1/2 in. sticks

To make the dip, place all ingredients in a mixing bowl and stir to combine. Tates and adjust the seasoning. Serve with crudités.

It's even better the next day.

Lastly, for Father's Day, I had to attempt this batch of chicken wings from a recipe I got, out of all places, the "Today in Mississippi" newsletter that comes from our local electrical cooperative. Normally, its best fare runs the gamut of casseroles with cream of chicken soup, but this issue had an interview with Martha Hall Foose whose Screen Doors and Sweet Tea: Recipes and Tales from a Southern Cook has garnered quite a bit of attention around here. She is the Paris-trained chef behind the Bottletree Bakery in Oxford as well as the Viking Cooking School at the Viking stove headquarters in Greenwood, MS. The article said she'd been on the "Good Morning America" with this book and has been on tour promoting it.

Anyway, I'd heard about this book already and wanted to try something from it. I really try not to buy many cookbooks anymore, they are quickly overtaking my kitchen. But this one is just calling to me. I checked and our library doesn't have it. So unless the impulse passes, I may be forced--FORCED! I tell you!--to buy it.

So while I get this monkey off my back, please try these chicken wings (which you should know in my head I can't help but pronounce "chicken wangs." What can I say, I am a slave to my geography.) I would tell you that they are a very inexpensive dinner in these troubling times, except Glenn and I ate every single one of them--not even one for the baby, aren't we terrible!?-- and seeing as how I baked an entire family pack of wings, well, that's just not very economical, now is it?

Ain't No Thing, Chicken Wing (Read: Ain't no Thang, Chicken Wang)

2 garlic cloves, minced
1 cup chili sauce
1 tsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. ground ginger
1 tsp. salt
2 tbsp. apple cider vinegar
3 tbsp. hot pepper sauce (We prefer Texas Pete--I applied it liberally)
1 tbsp. honey
12 chicken wings (I applied this one liberally, too. Just whip up a little more marinade if you run short for basting.)

In a large bowl, combine the garlic, chili sauce, cumin, ginger, salt, vinegar, hot pepper sauce, and honey. Add the chicken wings and let marinade for 1 hour in the fridge.

When ready to cook, preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Line a large, rimmed baking sheet with aluminum foil. Remove the wings from the marinade (reserving marinade) and arrange them in a single layer on the foil.

Bake for 30 minutes. Turn the wings for even browning and cook an additional 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a small saucepan over high heat, bring the reserved marinade to a boil. Cook for 3 minutes, or until thick. Brush the thickened sauce over the wings and bake for 5 to 8 minutes, or until the wings are well glazed and no longer pink next to the bone.

I have tried many wing recipes that involve baking rather than frying and could never find one that was flavorful enough. Well, people, my search is over. And now, after typing up this recipe, I am craving a chicken wang so badly I really don't know what I am going to do with myself.

TGIF

Friday always comes just in time. Have a good weekend, everybody.

Crazy kid in a tent

Dad wins big with a late afternoon brainstorm (totally earning his Father's Day present). And now I have a two-man tent in my living room. Crazy kid not included.