Cake Fail

I follow a blog called The Bitten Word that does what I could only dream of doing - actually cooking the recipes from their monthly supply of food magazines.  Now, granted, the only food magazine I subscribe to is Cook's Illustrated, which comes every two months and definitely lends itself to well-intentioned stockpiling on the bookshelf with promises to myself of, "I will definitely make that someday."  Anyway, the folks at The Bitten Word issue a yearly challenge to help them cook every recipe out of the September issue of Bon Appetit.  I signed up this year, and was issued the task of making this: buttermilk cake with sour milk jam and gin-poached cherries (whew).

All my ingredients.

It was less than impressive.

It incorporated several elements of baking that I find vexing - like the need to go to Whole Foods for a strange and expensive ingredient (juniper berries?), the finished product requiring complex assembly, the use of three (3) separate complete elements, and a wholeheartedly unrealistic amount of time spent doing active work (not, say, cooling something on the counter or baking something in the oven).  So, not only was it a great deal of work, but it tasted gross.  This saddened me.  But!  (There's always a but.)  I had fun making something that I never would have made otherwise, and the cake part itself tasted delicious.

First, I planned.  I got most of the stuff I needed on a grocery run - in the process acquiring more dairy than our fridge has held in months: buttermilk, whole milk, and creme fraiche.  Then, I traded picking up a friend at her mechanic for a cup of leftover gin she had since I didn't want to buy a whole bottle.  (Meanwhile thinking to myself, isn't a cup of gin, like, a LOT of gin??).  Finally, I resigned myself to going to Whole Foods after class one day to buy a four-dollar jar of dried whole juniper berries.  I will be personally indebted to anyone who finds another recipe with which I can use any more of the (barely touched) bottle of juniper berries, by the way.

The cake part, like I said, was delicious and simple enough.  Just a yellow cake batter, using buttermilk, which gave it a lovely soft crumb and a delicately sweet flavor.  Scrumptious.

Then, I spent 45 minutes cooking down milk and sugar into a syrup of such sickening sweetness that even mixing it into 8 ounces of creme fraiche didn't make it not taste like a cavity.

Finally, I followed the recipe exactly and attempted to make a gin, sugar, juniper berry, and dried tart cherry syrup thing to also put with the cake.  Total fail.  There was nothing syrupy about it, and the cherries were macerated within minutes.  I took one taste after cooking it for at least twice the amount of time called for (in an attempt to reduce the vast volume of liquid) and it was like taking a shot of gin in a spoon.  I'm not in college anymore, so this made me gag.

The finished product.

I took one bite of it all together, threw the sour milk "jam" and the alcoholic cherries in the trash, said a silent apology to the friend whose gin I'd wasted, and ate a piece of the cake with my hands.  Whomp whomp.  I'm very curious to see what others who made this recipe thought of it!  And I was at least happy to note that my instincts when looking at this recipe (looks complicated, and, is that seriously going to taste good...?) were spot on.

Anyone else had some recent cooking adventures they'd like to share?

Musings

I find avocados to be strangely comforting.  They are delicious, yes.  Avocados are like bacon for vegetarians.  They're like the yoga pants of the food world - everyone likes them and they look good (and taste good) on every single solitary thing.  This is not why I find them comforting.

I find avocados comforting because every time I buy avocados at the grocery store, hard as a rock and so unpromising - my fingers twitch as I put their sorry selves into my cart - every single time, I doubt them.  It's true.  I doubt that they will ripen, that they will ripen well, and that in only a few short days I will be enjoying them on a black bean and sweet potato quesadilla.  And every single time, the avocados come through for me.  They are the epitome of predictability and relief.  They always ripen and they are always delicious.  A ripe avocado cannot NOT taste good.  I challenge you to think of another type of fresh produce that you can buy in a profound state of unripened-ness, leave on your counter unattended for however long it takes, and slice it open with confidence after only a gentle squeeze, and reveal perfectly delicious, untarnished perfection.  No fruit flies.  No second-guessing the right time to cut it open.  And certainly you should never be staring at a ripe avocado thinking, "Gosh, what am I going to do with this avocado?  I am fresh out of ideas!"  TRY HARDER.

There's your little fruit and vegetable PSA of the day, folks.

* * *

Briefly, in other news around these parts...

1.  I put the space heaters away in the basement today.  I will make winter be over by simply refusing for it to continue.

2.  I ran the half marathon last weekend.  Running is hard.  For now, 5k's are starting to sound super duper fun.  A post with pictures will follow, hopefully soon.

3.  We got a coffee table!  It's wood, and it's pretty, and it has cubby holes for the cats.

Enjoying the spring air.

Eight Months In

It's supposed to be great weather for your race on Sunday, he says.

Right?  Sixties, I think.  It's like thirty out right now, though.

He dumps leftover Thai food into two bowls and I take a sip from each of the two half-full water glasses, in an attempt to figure out which one is mine.  He makes a face at me, Yuck.  I dump out both cups and fill them fresh, rotate the bowls in the microwave and backwards hop my butt up onto the tiny counter while I dig another marshmallow out of the open bag in his cupboard.  He turns around in time to see me wrist-deep in the bag and I dutifully hand him one too.  

I miss summer, I say.  Can we make s'mores sometime?

Sure.  He grabs my bare feet in his warm hands and squeezes, my runner toes popping and cracking and I laugh as he says, Maybe in July these popsicles will thaw.

Yeah, dream on.

The couch is finally warm beneath our mishmashed forms, he tells me no, he doesn't want any blanket so I pile more of it over my bare legs and popsicle feet and we watch episode after episode of New Girl.  I tell him Zooey Deschanel is cute because I can be that girl that is fine if her boyfriend thinks other girls are cute, it doesn't mean he doesn't love me and if I say it first then it's okay if he says it, right, and he looks at me like I'm crazy and tells me he wouldn't know because she's not me, so why would he care and another tiny scar on my heart heals over, smooth and red and shiny and whole.

I heave myself up from the couch to follow him into the kitchen, empty dinner bowls in hand.  He tells me to keep out, he's busy, go sit back down and so I slide the dishes through the door and don't look, used to his surprises by now.  Five minutes later, he's back with a plate and a smile.  Look.  So you don't have to wait till summer.

Four ooey gooey s'mores, perfectly constructed.  For all I know, he toasted the marshmallows with a butane lighter but I don't care because I'm already taking a bite and he's giving me a chocolatey kiss and asks me, Good? and I say, So good and Thank you and I love you and we each eat two and I doze off listening to his heart, slow and steady and reassuring and whole.

A Wordy Hunger

When I just cannot take another minute of pathophysiology, I let my eyes glaze over while perusing the beautiful recipes on...

Smitten Kitchen.

And when I want to imagine that someday I'll branch out enough to try a different pie crust recipe or buy a seventh kind of flour to make one very specific scone recipe, I gaze wistfully at the recipes on...

101 cookbooks.

And finally, when I need a story with my food porn eye candy or my heart hurts and I miss my nanny kids or I feel like the precariously constructed box I've built around me is crashing in, there is always...

Dash and Bella.

* * *

Because feeding the soul is just as important (or maybe even more important) than feeding the body.

* * *

30 Days Hath November
Day 01: A place I'd like to travel.
Day 02: A favourite movie.
Day 03: Something I never leave the house without.
Day 04: A friend I adore.
Day 05: My hometown.
Day 06: A book I'm reading.
Day 07: A song for the day.
Day 08: Three inspirational quotes.
Day 09: A close-up of my day.
Day 10: A favourite recipe.
Day 11: Three years ago today.
Day 12: The last item I purchased.
Day 13: Something I'm proud of.
Day 14: Style inspiration for the season.
Day 15: Three blogs I always read.

All Good Things

Today's beautiful weather - 72 degrees! - had me feeling good.  My little guy and I enjoyed the sun with an outing to the bank (thrilling, I know).  Then I got off of work two hours early and Alix and I celebrated the occasion by deciding we wanted ice cream to go with the warm weather.  Even though our corner store has seven zillion flavors of Ben & Jerry's, I desperately wanted a cone for the full experience, so we took the subway way, way up the west side to the only scoop shop around.  I enjoyed their new flavor, Late Night Snack, which is basically this heavenly concoction of salty and sweet with chocolate.  Um...delicious.  Alix got her usual disgusting combination of coffee ice cream with rainbow sprinkles.  Talk about ruining a perfectly good opportunity for ice cream.  Sheesh.

 

Yeah, I know this is an awful picture.  Sorry.

Anyway, after taking the subway all the way back, we decided we weren't quite ready to head home so we hit up a local thrift store that we've been meaning to visit for awhile now.  It was hot and stuffy, and way more crowded than I expected, but I have an obsession for thrift stores so I didn't mind.  I love hunting for a good find amidst all the bad prom and bridesmaid dresses and XXL blazers with shoulder pads.  I came home with a dress and a rustic 1950's era kitchen clock.

It even tells time!

The dress was a contemplated decision; the clock a last second (haha) one.  We weren't even sure if it would work once we put a battery in it.  Then came a little home decorating.  The clock clearly belongs in the kitchen, so we hauled out the nails to hang it and then I got all excited about hanging up this world map we've had for ages but have never put up.  A strange combination, I know, but they both make our kitchen area look even funkier and charismatic than before.  (Who's ever heard of having a map in the kitchen, right?  Well now if I'd like to know where Kazakhstan is while I'm making dinner, by golly, I can just look up and find it.)

Our apartment is tilted.  So it's not our fault the map is crooked.  Ok?

The windows are open and our apartment smells beautifully of the lilies that a friend gave us.  The dog is sleeping, the cat is prowling, The Weepies are playing, and a pizza is on its way.  Life. Is. Good.

February Thaw

This is what I'm currently obsessed with:

And this is what I made for dinner last night:

Kerala-Style Chicken Curry

(Sooo not vegetarian, but sooo good.  You can find the recipe here.)










Going to the gym took a hit this week since I worked 7-8 one day and 6-8 two other days (yes, those are 13 and 14 hour shifts.  Have I mentioned that my job is crazy?).  Needless to say, going to the gym at 9 PM when I have to wake up at 4:15 AM doesn't sound too appealing nor is it very healthy.  I'm at a stalemate with my weight loss and after seeing a personal trainer last week, I'm hoping things start to look up.  He's given me a weight-training plan and if I follow it three times a week, do cardio twice a week or more, and keep track of what I'm eating (and actually eat - a blog entry for another time), it should all fall into place.  Maybe in a month or so?  Stay tuned, as always.

As for my other job, we're still bracing ourselves for the whirlwind of customers that nice weather and Food Network appearances bring through the door, especially on the weekends when we're already overloaded.  The simple fact is that there is not enough oven space to keep up with the amount of cookies we are selling during a typical two-hour long rush and so while my shifts often fly by, by the end of them I have crazy-eyes, my hair is coming out of its bandana, there's flour all over my jeans and chocolate on my apron, and all I really really want is a beer.  Or something stronger.  Thankfully, my boss is relaxed enough that she will in fact give us something to sip on while closing on particularly hectic days.  She says we are her champion team and she couldn't do it without us.  It feels nice to be appreciated, even if it's for doing something as simple as ringing a cash register and making espresso drinks as fast as I can.  And no, as employees, we don't get sick of the cookies.  Our favorites may change, but we don't ever stop loving them.

The Beginning

Hi everyone and welcome to our blog!

Here we will be writing about our adventures in New York and our quest to live healthier, happier lives on a budget. While New Yorkers are famous for continuously complaining about how expensive everything is (the rent! the parking! the food!), the truth is that Alix and I (Cait) are living off of one income and a rapidly depleting savings account, paying a rent we can't afford (go figure) and supporting a sulky cat and a dopey dog. This all sounds so much more tragic than the laughter-filled and love-blessed life that we are lucky to have but since we both want to remain healthy and financially viable into our next seven decades, the time has come for us to tighten our belts a little and make some changes.

The last three months since I moved into Alix's studio apartment in Hell's Kitchen, we've been a bit, shall we say, loose with our money. We appreciated the constant availability of take-out and became all too familiar with www.seamlessweb.com. We also spent a large chunk of money transforming the apartment from the haphazard bachelor pad Alix was inhabiting into the cozy and furnished home we now share. Finally, we paid precious little attention to our spending habits at places like Whole Foods, Screme (the most delicious and over-priced gelato joint on the West side), and Unleashed (the boys' favorite holistic pet supply store). Now that we're settling into our respective routines - I work about fifty hours a week as a nanny, while Alix will soon be starting her second year of law school - we've decided to address our growing waistlines and shrinking accounts by changing our spending, eating, and exercise habits. We've designed a budget, sworn off eating out, and are starting a crazy workout plan (more on that later). We'll be doing our best to document our adventures here, in an effort to keep us honest and keep you amused. We invite you to read along and share it with us.