And then she vanished...but no! Not that lucky.

I'm a terrible web log author. I haven't written enough posts to attract an audience, let alone keep one. In the interest of keeping myself fit this year, though, I've decided to return to this little soap-box of mine and make better use of it, if only to perform an intellectual form of exercise, much like people who are much more industrious than I am might walk on a treadmill every day or chase bees for a living. (I have no idea how the latter activity could even be remotely considered an appropriate metaphor. But there we are.) I also plan to purchase a bicycle this month. That was beside the point.

I'm going to do my darndest to make this a weekly thing, this foray into the world of, "Well, I didn't have anything else planned for the next two-and-a-half minutes of my life, so why not mosey on over to 'En Route to Hungary' to see what kind of nonsense she's passing off as an entry now?" So Dear Reader (there I go talking to myself in public again...), stay tuned.

How to Struggle Through Suicidal Thoughts

If you're contemplating suicide, put a pin in it. You can always change your mind about killing yourself on this side of death, but not on the other. Put such thoughts aside just for now. Commit to just getting some sleep tonight, waking up tomorrow, getting cleaned up, and going into the world to search for something beautiful. When you find it, contemplate it and keep it in your heart and for the rest of the day. When the next day hits, repeat. This is life, and life will get better.

I've spent most of my life depressed and contemplated suicide many more times than I can count. This is advice that comes from hard, hard experience. There is beauty in this world waiting for you to discover it.

Tip o' the Day: Oil-less Pasta

Well, this tip is a week and twenty-nine minutes late. What? It's not like anyone important was reading this web log* anyway.

So, I'll get straight to business. When you cook pasta, do you think you have to add oil to the water to keep it from sticking? Well, save the oil and save yourself from washing an oily pan and colander. All you need to do keep your pasta from sticking together is stir it up with a fork every fifteen-thirty seconds (less frequently the longer it cooks) during the first five minutes after you add it to the pot of water. That's it! No oil, no pasta served in a big clump.

I can hear you (yes, you) asking, "Wait! That's all?"

Well, what did you want? Seven pictures of perfectly-photographed cupcakes, taken from slightly different angles, followed by a recipe so mouthwatering that it makes you feel inferior simply because you didn't come up with the recipe first? Sorry, I don't serve inferiority complexes with my recipes. I also don't serve cupcake recipes, mainly because I haven't invented any.

So be satisfied with a pasta-boiling tip...or read a cupcake web log. It's neither here nor there as far as I'm concerned.**

*If you are someone important, and you're reading this web log, I apologize. Also, don't you have anything better to do?

**Please read my web log! I'm just playing hard to get. You can look at dessert porn later.

Tip o' the Day: Don't Scrub Sugar

Yes, I've got a brand-spanking new Tip of the Day, less than twenty-four hours on the heels of my last one.  I think I might make this a regular posting, not daily (don't be led astray by the title) but weekly. Since this tip is being posted on a Sunday, I think I'll post a new tip every Sunday. The Bible says that a person shouldn't work on Sunday (well, the Bible really says the Sabbath, which Christian tradition has interpreted to mean "Sunday"). I guess it's good that I'm not religious anymore, then, although I do still feel a tiny pang of guilt/fear/something bad from this decision and from mocking the biblical prohibition, given my past as a religious churchgoer. (I might have added, "deeply religious churchgoer", but obviously it wasn't that deep or I'd still believe in it.) It's not that God is going to punish me any less for not caring, it's just that my lack of concern about the matter is, well...a lack of concern. I've probably already offended the twenty percent of my three semi-regular readers who are of the Christian faith, but I can't move the day to Saturday, or I'll offend the point-zero-one percent of said readers who are Orthodox Jewish, and I definitely can't move the day to Monday, or I'll offend myself, who wholeheartedly believes in refraining from performing any kind of work on Monday. Sunday it is.

Now, if you haven't heard the word on sugar, let me enlighten you: it's pretty bad stuff, nutritionally speaking. Sugar is diabetogenic any way you slice it (and good luck with slicing it, 'cause I've haven't been able to yet...bah-dah-bam!). Setting aside the fact that diabetes is a pretty shitty disease on its own, it has been proven and/or suspected of putting the sufferer at greater risk for just about every other disease known to mankind.* If you don't really care about this fact, or if you're like me and maintain a strict low-carb regimen yet still indulge in sugar as a treat on rare occasions**, you may have tried to make candy a time or two. Maybe you're a regular candy-maker (in which case you might already be aware of this tip) or maybe you've never tried to make candy before (in which case you should pay attention anyway, in the instance that you decide to try your hand at homemade candy in the future). This tip also applies to homemade syrups or any similar cooking process that can cause a hard, sugary mess to cling to a saucepan.

Like the last tip I posted, this isn't my original idea. (Although I think I thought of the idea independently of anyone else, so I should at least be given credit for that. Please?) If you find yourself with a nasty sugary mess inside of your favorite saucepan after making caramels/peppermint syrup/sweetened condensed boogers, don't wear yourself out trying to scrub it off. Just fill the saucepan or pot until the level of water is higher than the level of hardened sugar (allowing at least a small head space at the top of the pan/pot) and bring the water to a rolling boil. Allow the water to boil for about five minutes, longer if necessary. Remove saucepan from heat and pour the boiling water down the drain, being careful to avoid steam burns/splashing yourself. After this, simply clean the pan as you normally would. If there is stuck-on sugar that was above the waterline, you may need to scrub that, but as for most of the pan, it'll be a piece of cake to clean, as the boiling water dissolved the sugar and washed it down the drain for you! :)


*This may be a slight exaggeration--but only a slight one.
 **This may be an outright lie.

Tip o' the Day: Be Happy Cleaning Your Microwave

Those who know me personally would find great humor in the fact that I, of all people, am publishing a housecleaning tip on my web log. They know me to be one of the world's worst housekeepers. You know that level of disorder and filth that a building gets to when the health officials are compelled to suggest that it be burned? Well, I get around to cleaning house when it's just short of that point. Seriously, though, no one could accuse me of having anything even close to an immaculate abode. I do, however, like living in somewhat sanitary conditions and occasionally getting a glimpse of my floor. So, on to the tip.

If you're anything like me, you put off the most icky jobs for as long as you can, your inner child engaging in the magical thinking that if you just let it go long enough, the mess will miraculously disappear. (And if you're not like me in this respect, than you probably don't need this bit of housecleaning advice.) When it becomes apparent to you that the world just doesn't work that way, and that if you don't get to cleaning the mess, you'll be declared legally insane by your family, you set yourself begrudgingly to the task, simultaneously fending off the willies and regretting the time you're spending slaving away. For me, cleaning a funky microwave is one of these jobs. The following method is a quick, easy, effective, cheap and non-toxic way to clean your microwave, even after you've put it off for too long. It may not make you happy to clean your microwave, but it will certainly make you less irritated with the whole process.

I won't claim that the ideas in this method are of my invention. I simply put together a few cleaning tips that I found that appealed to me, tried them out and was very pleased with the results! I live with my elderly uncle as his caregiver, and my boyfriend and his young son also live here. To my knowledge, they rarely, if ever, cover something that they're heating in the microwave, and I'd be shocked to find out that any of them clean up after themselves after they're done using the appliance. (Sorry guys--it's true!) After a few months or even weeks, the microwave gets to be one ugly place. I can therefore vouch for how wonderfully this method works!

Enough of my rambling; here's the recipe for success:

Materials
1 whole lemon
a microwave-safe mug
water
table salt
paper towels
a clean rag or two

Directions
1. Remove the turntable and wheeled platform under the turntable from the microwave. These can be washed in the sink.
2. Take the lemon and slice it in half. (It can even be one of those lemons that's gotten to be a little bit old and shriveled in your fridge because you bought it ages ago for a gourmet recipe, and you ended up being too lazy to prepare the meal.)
3. Fill a regularly-sized mug about 1/2 to 3/4 full of water. Place one of the lemon halves in the mug of water and heat in the microwave until it's nice and steamy. (Pretend you are heating a mug of water for tea. You want it to be that hot.) The steam combined with the acid in the lemon will help to loosen up stuck-on gunk.
4. When the lemon-water is hot enough, remove it from the microwave and set it aside. (Don't throw it out yet--you'll be using it in a moment.)
5. Take the other lemon half, squeeze it lightly to start to release the juices and cover the cut side with salt. Rub the salty surface of the lemon all over the microwave, scrubbing if necessary (you shouldn't need to scrub very much). Re-salt the lemon as needed. The acidity of the lemon juice combined with the abrasiveness of the salt will help to release all of the soil in the microwave.
6. When all of the stuck-on gunk and dirt is removed, use paper towels to dispose of the old food particles and loosened gunk as well as to absorb any filthy cleaning liquid in the microwave.
7. Here's the part where you'll be using the lemon-water again. When you've removed loose particles and dirty liquid from the microwave, rinse the microwave out. To do this, dip a clean rag into the mug of lemon-water and wipe down the microwave. (Caution: Because the process of cleaning out the microwave is normally quick with the salted lemon, you may need to wait for the lemon-water to cool down a bit before you dip the rag into it.) You may need to do this a few times, just to make sure that it's clean and fresh. Bonus: The rags dipped in the lemon-water help to clean surfaces on the outside of the microwave, too, such as door handles with smudges or fingerprints.

There you have it! My personally-recommended method of taking care of a gross microwave that leaves the thing clean and lemon-fresh, without leaving behind noxious residues or leaving you with an empty wallet. :)

Knitting Pattern: Mommy and Me Snaky Sevens Scarves

This is my first attempt at a knitting pattern. It is for two scarves, made as a set, one for an adult and one for a younger child. The adult's scarf measures approximately 5" wide by 62" long, whereas the child's scarf measures approximately 3" wide by 43" long. This can be made using two skeins of the same yarn in different colors. Feel free to use colors other than those specified. For that matter, feel free to use a higher-quality yarn of the same weight, as the grade of yarn I used isn't terribly soft and so isn't as snuggly and flexible as one might desire in the adult's scarf.

Also, if you decide to make only one scarf, you'll likely only use half a skein of each color, or if you prefer, one skein of one color/design.

Gauge is not critical with this pattern; however, try to get a gauge as close as possible to what I've knitted in order to get the same size scarves as I have as well as to avoid the risk of running out of yarn. The gauge listed is based on my knitting, not that of the average knitter. The gauge for the adult's scarf, using size 9 U.S. needles, is: 3 stitches and 5 rows per 1 inch in stockinette stitch. The gauge for the child's scarf is: 3.5 stitches and 6 rows per 1 inch in stockinette, using size 8 needles.

Feel free to contact me with any questions, corrections or improvements to the pattern. Thank you!

Snaky Sevens Scarf Set Pattern

Interesting Note: I've called this pattern "Snaky Sevens" because the rows of stitches go in multiples of seven, and the majority of knitting is done in either stockinette or reverse stockinette, creating sections that curl or "snake" back and forth.

Materials:

• 1 skein Loops & Threads Impeccable Yarn - Solids (100% Acrylic Worsted Weight Yarn, Medium 4, 4.5 oz. skein/277 yards), in Cadet (Color A)
  
• 1 skein Loops & Threads Impeccable Yarn - Solids (100% Acrylic Worsted Weight Yarn, Medium 4, 4.5 oz. skein/277 yards), in Fern (Color B)
  
• 1 pair size 9 U.S. (5.5 mm) knitting needles
• 1 pair size 8 U.S. (5.0 mm) knitting needles
• 1 yarn or darning needle or crochet hook (for weaving in ends)

Instructions, Adult's Scarf:

Cast on eighteen stitches using a double strand of Colors A and B (hold both yarns together as one strand).
Knit 7 rows in garter stitch. (All knit stitches.)
Knit 14 rows in reverse stockinette stitch. (Purl the first row, knit the second, repeat until end of section.)
Repeat this pattern (7 rows garter stitch, 14 rows reverse stockinette) for 16 reverse stockinette sections.
After you've finished knitting the 16th section of reverse stockinette, knit 7 more rows of garter stitch. Your total number of finished rows should be approximately 343.
Bind off and weave in ends. Scarf should now measure approximately 62" long.

Instructions, Child's Scarf:

Cast on 14 stitches.
Knit 7 rows in garter stitch with Color A.
Knit 7 rows of reverse stockinette.
[Join color B. Knit 7 more rows reverse stockinette.
Knit 7 rows of stockinette (Knit 1 row, purl 1 row, repeat).
Join color A. Knit 7 more rows of stockinette.
Knit 7 rows of reverse stockinette.]
Repeat pattern listed above between the brackets 7 times (there's that 7 again!) :)
Join color B. Knit 7 more rows of reverse stockinette.
Knit 7 rows in garter stitch. Your total number of knitted rows will be 252.
Bind off and weave in ends.

Tip: To switch back and forth between reverse stockinette and stockinette, simply repeat the last type of stitch you knitted (for example, if you ended a section on a purl stitch, purl the next row).

Voilà! You've made two attractive new scarves, as a set, out of a mere two skeins of yarn and a few evenings' work. Now who to give them to--or maybe you'd like to keep them? :)

Copyright 2012 Michele R. Johnston. Use pattern only with permission. Designer grants user explicit permission to craft from pattern for personal use or to sell crafts made from pattern at craft fairs and similar markets.

Sustainability, Kiss Mah Butt

Being human is not sustainable, at least not according to the current philosophies on living green. About the most sustainable thing I could do right now is to commit suicide. I would immediately stop consuming, and while my corpse would become a small source of pollution, it would at least counter that by renewing the soil in which it were placed.

Even if I were to divest myself of a modern life and go to live in the woods as a gatherer, I would still be a drain on the environment. I would pick wild berries and seeds for my (of course) vegan diet, which I would proceed to digest and eliminate as feces, which would be pollution. There would be times when I might need to make a fire to keep myself warm, which would also pollute. I'm sure there are other tasks that I would perform for my survival that would leave some footprint, but even the two basic functions listed above would prove to leave too much of a mark on the earth to be considered 100% environmentally friendly.

We do face real environmental problems, problems which require solutions. I simply don't believe that following the latest green fads and marching in step with everyone else, regardless of your own personal needs, goals or desires is the way to achieve solutions. Americans (and others in the industrialized world) throw themselves head-first into the latest advice on being good to the planet without fully researching the pros and cons, the benefits and potential drawbacks of every scheme. So while I do not contest that man-made environmental damage takes place, I do part ways with those who contend that all environmental change is man-made damage and that the "solution" of the moment is the one we should follow to save the earth, regardless of the consequences to man or even the environment itself down the road.

I could go on, and I could list specific examples which illustrate my point (and I will, if anyone asks), but in this post, let it suffice to say that I reject "sustainability" and living "green" as it is force-fed to me. I desire real change--both in what we do to the planet and in our attitudes towards the planet. Obviously, it doesn't make any sense to use and use and use until there is nothing left, but on the other hand, humans are not enemies of the earth. We deserve to live here as much as any other creature.

So it is out of my rejection of milled environmentalist philosophy that I feel little guilt for buying fruit out-of-season, shipped from distant corners of the country. Usually, I buy fruit in season for two self-interested reasons: it is less expensive and tastes better. During my last two shopping trips, however, I found both blueberries and strawberries at reasonable prices, and to my surprise, they both tasted nearly as good as the in-season varieties. These aren't the kinds of purchases that I can make all of the time, namely for the two self-interested reasons listed above, but since I was able to do so this month, yay! As much as I love winter (I really do!), a little summer fruit in the middle of a mostly mild and dreary cold season is most welcome, sustainability be damned.

Philosophy Regarding Food Fashion

Rosa's Yummy Yums: DROP DEAD CHOCOLATE CAKE - GÂTEAU AU CHOCOLAT DÉCA...

You might want to check out the link above, not so much for the rich-looking chocolate cake recipe mentioned, but for the author's thoughts on food trends, which I partially agree with yet find completely interesting. I've been turned off by "foodie" trends myself. (I don't even like the word "foodie"--it sounds childish to me, and it also seems to suggest that only certain people truly love food. Whatever.) Suggesting that a certain type of food is passe' is absurd. Good food never goes out of style. I appreciate culinary trends for what they're worth to me--as a path to discovering new cuisines, ingredients and recipes I might not have found otherwise--but I'll eat what I like (within the bounds of good health) and not sweat it if today's star chef disapproves. Or is taste no longer the province of the individual?

(Also, the author was the first person to comment on my web log, so I feel obliged to repay the favor, which I don't mind given the link to which I'm directing you, dear readers. :)

Lazy Woman's Dobostorte

Being in love with all things Hungarian (even an American bass player who is 1/4 Hunky), I decided that this would be the Christmas that I would get around to making this iconic dessert for said bass player's family. I am, however, the even more iconic fat, lazy American, so after having made thirteen types of cookies plus seasoned nuts and having volunteered myself to make falafel with tahini sauce for the gathering of my in-laws (did I mention that I adore Middle Eastern food, too?) as well as a Christmas morning breakfast of boozy oranges, baked Scotch eggs and cinnamon biscuits for the immediate family, I searched for a shortcut that would conserve both time and effort without going too far astray from the classic concoction. I ended up combining two recipes I found via the Web and one of my Taste of Home holiday cookbooks.

The layers of a Dobostorte are basically thin versions of sponge cake. They are very eggy and lack leavening, depending on beaten eggs for lightness. I decided to use a recipe for some sort of one-layer sponge-type cake in order to approximate the texture of the cake rounds. I didn't feel like separating and beating eggs a lot, so I went a step further in laziness and used a (more or less) one-bowl génoise recipe from the late 1800s that I found on Wikipedia. (I've "translated" it into modern cookery speak.)

The chocolate buttercream frosting is done with no shortcuts, but even it is easier than it looks, provided you've already learned a few basic baking skills. The caramel glaze is even simpler; since you're applying it to a frosted cake, all you do is drizzle it on and even it out a bit with a spoon.

You can feel free to garnish or decorate the cake as you wish to pretty it up, but I like it as-is.

Lazy Woman's Dobostorte

Serves 8 (or more--it is very rich)

For the Génoise:

• 1 3/4 c. plus 2 T. all-purpose flour
• 1 c. plus 2 T. sugar
• 4 eggs
• 1/2 c. (8 T. or one stick) unsalted butter, melted
• 1/2 to 1 T. vanilla extract
• 1/2 c. strong coffee (not cold)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease a 9-inch round baking pan (I like to cut a circle of parchment paper to fit inside the bottom and grease it, too, just to simplify the removal of the cake). In a small bowl, combine melted butter and vanilla. In a large bowl, beat together flour, sugar and eggs with an electric mixer on the highest speed for 5 minutes, scraping the sides of the bowl with a rubber scraper to ensure all ingredients are incorporated. (You can mix this by hand, but you must do so very briskly; prepare your arm for fatigue after five minutes straight of heavy exertion.) Fold the butter-vanilla mixture into the batter very gently. (It is very important to fold the mixture in gently because if you stir it in rudely, your egg mixture will deflate and therefore fail to perform in the oven--i.e., be gentle or expect your cake not to rise.) Pour combined batter into the prepared pan. Bake in the middle of the oven for 25 minutes or until the cake tests done and is a golden yellow/light brown on top. (It's okay for the génoise to be just dry--the finished product will be plenty moist!) Allow the cake to cool for 10 minutes.

After this time, invert the cake twice so that the top is facing up, peel parchment (if using) from the bottom and allow cake to cool completely. When the cake is cool, use a fork to poke holes in the cake in several places on the top. Slowly pour the coffee over the holes in the cake, allowing time for the liquid to be absorbed and keeping the coffee from spilling over the sides. Moisten the entire cake in this manner (you may not need the entire amount of coffee--you're not trying to make the cake soggy). Allow cake to sit long enough to absorb the coffee well, about an hour.

For the Chocolate Buttercream Frosting:

• 1-3/4 cups semisweet chocolate chips
• 1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons brewed coffee
• 1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
• 7 egg yolks, lightly beaten
• 1-1/4 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 1 cup butter, softened

(You will end up making more frosting than what you need, but what the heck? Save it for a later use, or give it to the neighbor's kid and watch him drive his parents nuts.)

In a small saucepan, melt chips with coffee and sugar; stir until smooth. Remove from the heat. Add a small amount of mixture to egg yolks; return all to the pan, stirring constantly. Cook for 2 minutes or until mixture is thickened and reaches 160°, stirring constantly. Remove from the heat; stir in vanilla. Cool to room temperature.

In a large bowl with a whisk attachment, beat butter until fluffy, about 5 minutes. Gradually beat in chocolate mixture. If necessary, refrigerate until frosting achieves spreading consistency. (If you refrigerate the frosting for too long, it's easy to soften it up again; just stick it in the microwave for ten seconds at a time until it's spreadable.) Frost cake.

For the Caramel Topping

• 12 caramels (the soft, chewy kind, not hard candy)
• 7 teaspoons evaporated milk

In a small saucepan, melt caramels with milk. Remove from the heat; drizzle evenly over the top of the cooled, frosted cake. With a tablespoon (the eating utensil, not the measuring instrument), carefully spread frosting to cover the cake evenly. (It's okay if it doesn't reach the edge--it probably won't--just so long as it is neat-looking and distributed so that each potential slice has an equal amount of caramel topping.) Allow to cool before cutting into slices.

This was rather admired by my boyfriend's family, and I was asked for the recipe. For my next trick, I will attempt to make this masterpiece low-carb, for all you Hunky peeps who are diabetic and/or who are against the whole concept of stuffing your faces with copious amounts of sugar and refined starches. Stay tuned.

Recipes from: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Genoise, http://allrecipes.com/recipe/genoise/ and http://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/Dobostorte

"The Holy Trinity", Hungarian-Style

For Cajun/Creole cooks, the "Holy Trinity" refers to a combination of vegetables common to the cuisine consisting of onions, bell peppers and celery. I think most cultures have something similar; for Cuban cooks, it's the "sofrito"; according to Wikipedia, it's a mix of green onions, ginger and garlic for the Chinese; I'm not sure what it would be for us Irish or Irish-Americans, but it's probably something close to potatoes, cabbage/kale and onions/leeks. It's kind of like what was described in a column in the April 2011 issue of Bon Appetit magazine, where the author described a situation where every good cook relies on a few key pantry ingredients when all else fails, extrapolated to a national/cultural scale. Yesterday, I enjoyed another fine dinner at the Darlington Inn, a Hungarian-Transylvanian restaurant near Ligonier, PA. This time, I ordered Chicken Lecso, a dish with which I was already familiar from preparing it at home. It consists of chicken smothered in a seasoned, sauteed sauce of onions, peppers and tomatoes. I like to use Hungarian hot or sweet peppers. The version I ate yesterday contained green peppers. In the hands of a different cook, someone with much more experience in Hungarian cuisine than me, it took on a different character. I loved it. (I should note that the cook also put cheese on top, which is never a mistake in any cuisine.) I know that Wikipedia states that the holy trinity of Hungarian cuisine is lard, paprika and red onion, but I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that the Hungarian Holy Trinity is Lecso. True, it's a relish more than a cooking ingredient, but it can and should be used in cooking, too. Even my significant other likes it, and he hates tomatoes and cooked vegetables. That should tell you something. If you're in the vicinity of Ligonier, PA, you really should visit the Darlington Inn. Otherwise, you can try my favorite Lecso recipe at home, to which I've posted a link here. Just be sure to use real Hungarian paprika, not that flavor-less deviled-egg garnish! http://homepage.interaccess.com/~june4/lesco.html

Low-carb eaters: Send me your recipes!

If anyone reading my little web log would like me to convert his or her favorite recipe to the low-carb lifestyle, send it on to me! If I can convert it, I'll let you know by reply as well as posting the recipe conversion on my web log. While I have no professional culinary training, I have many years of experience baking and cooking, so I'd love the challenge of trying to make your favorite foods fit your lifestyle. Try me!

Variety is the Spice of Life

I'm not endorsing adultery or "steppin' out" of any kind, but Ladies, be honest: have you ever wanted to engage in sexual acts with a businessman? Now, I don't want to hear confessions of, "My husband sells life insurance, and I think he's sexy" or anything else so pedestrian. What I mean is, do you know of a businessman who has taken care of you so well that you'd like to "take care" of him? Maybe it's your butcher, your mechanic or your shoe repairman? For me, it's my spice man.

He owns a little gourmet food shop about twenty miles from my home. He has saved customers from placing online orders or making trips to larger cities for special ingredients. He also stocks a wide variety of herbs and spices which are cheaper than gourmet at the grocery store (and probably fresher). Yet I did not discover the full potential of the spice man until I asked him to order some spice mixes for me. Instead, he made jerk spice and Ras el hanout for me, right in the shop. The smells of the finished products are so good, I find myself sniffing them compulsively from time to time. I feel like there should be a public service announcement about the addictive properties of great spice combinations.

Spice Man, I could kiss you!

Titus Andronicus: To Be or Not to Be

(yes, I went there)

I guess it seems silly to have written a web log entry on paper before typing it into the computer. I know it seems strange to me, like I'm committing some breach of style (the MLA kind, not the fashion kind). I'm from a pen-and-paper generation, though. Truly enough, I first learned to navigate the Internet (in exciting new HTML!) at the age of about fourteen, but when friends and I needed to say something (not yet "sth"), we didn't send text messages. We passed notes, called each other on landline home phones or visited each other. There's a certain internal editorial power wielded through setting pen to paper, a power bled dry by constant instant communication.

That's the reason for being a physical writer--not a typist composer--but a writer. The honest reason for this particular pre-written web log entry is simpler and more urbane than that--I needed to vent before I could get to a computer.

Today (now yesterday) I auditioned for a show called Titus Andronicus. You either know it or you don't, and if you don't, you should look into it because you don't know what you're missing. At any rate, after a couple of days spent memorizing a pieced-together monologue (from Queen Margaret in Richard III), asking questions about it to understand it better, practicing my delivery and being struck with frightened nervousness for a few hours before the audition, I finally let loose, my anxiety getting the better of me at moments. I'll admit, I'm not top-shelf stuff, but I've improved a great deal over several years.

To my disappointment, I discovered directly after auditioning that the producers experienced such an anaemic turnout that they were very seriously considering canning the show. Gut Punch #1. Shortly after that, I learned that the role I really wanted, which I didn't have great confidence of getting but which still helped to convince me to bring a competitive spirit to the audition, had been promised to another actress. Gut Punch #2. In the end, Gut punch #1 is the kick in the ovaries. "Sorry, you can't even be cast as Roman Citizen #4 because the people who want to do this aren't capable of increasing their numbers by asexual reproduction." I at least wanted to believe that my fruitless audition was a good one, to take it away as a small consolation prize. A friend told me that, more or less, my piece was dominated by nervousness and sounded of loud bursts of lines. I know I was nervous, but c'mon?

I'm not rancorous; again, I'm disappointed. This isn't like high school, where I (with some decent acting experience) get passed over for any sizable part in a production that is fairly innocuous in the long run in favor of someone prettier and/or more well-liked. This is real adult theatre, for fun and for art. The play is not likely to happen at all, and even were it to occur, the choice role would have already gone to a hand-picked actress. At least allow me the comfort of my pretty folly that I fairly kicked ass in my audition.

Did I kick ass in my audition? I don't know. I'm not very good at judging myself. It's always pathetically black or white--either I was gold or shit. Would I have chased Tilda Swinton out of the top spot, assuming we were coeval and alike in appearance? Well, I'm not a moron. Did I earn myself some kind of slot in a play that I've wanted to do ever since I first saw it? I'd like to think so. Allow me my pretty folly.

I've been passed over before, sometimes even by people less talented than me. In this case, everyone's been passed over. Sometimes liking something great puts you squarely in the minority.

Italian Cooking, the Overwhelmingly Authentic Way

For Christmas this year, one of my presents was a Gastronomique-size tome simply called, La Cucina, edited by the members of the Italian Academy of Cuisine and recently translated into English. This is the sort of massive cookbook that you know you'll never get the whole way through in your lifetime. It won't be for lack of trying, however, if you're like me and love trying foreign foods, the more "real", the better. There are thousands of recipes using almost every type of ingredient that could be dreamt of, from eel to chamois to wild thyme to grape must. This is the type of book that makes you feel inadequate as a cook from its sheer cornucopia of dishes. The book is organized into chapters by course: Antipasto, Soup, Pasta, Fish, Meat, Vegetables and Dessert (plus one chapter I've missed). It also includes the region from which each recipe originated, providing a little geographical and historical context for each meal--especially useful for Italian-Americans trying to get a "feel" for their roots. When I get over my initial feeling of awe and actually cook something from La Cucina, I'll be certain to post a review here. Until then, Buongiorno!

Failed Culinary Experiments

Where do recipes come from, if not from one person trying to see if two or more ingredients go well together? In this spirit of culinary adventure, I like to try something a little different now and then, sometimes discovering a great taste I never knew before, but more often than not, inventing a dud. Today I came up with some such wash. I tried topping warmed-over Christmas Plum Pudding with shredded cheddar cheese, melted in the microwave. I couldn't detect the cheddar other than as an odd aftertaste. My guess is that Plum Pudding, being such a profusion of flavors to begin with (rum, sugar, various dried fruits), is so potent that nothing could possibly be added to enhance it, not even decent cheddar cheese (such as shredded Kraft, or "fancy cheese" to all of you Boondocks fans). Oh, well. In discovering one thing that doesn't work, to paraphrase and put a twist on the thoughts of Thomas Edison, you've come closer to discovering the thing that will.

On a sweeter note, I did find via a blind taste-test administered by my younger stepson that expensive cinnamon really is superior to bargain supermarket cinnamon as far as taste alone (not smell) goes. My apologies to those who, like me, are of Scottish descent and attempt to squeeze each penny until copper juice flows.

Sunday Savings

I like when I find that something that I needed or even just wanted to buy is much lower in price than what I was expecting. I really, really like it when I find that I can obtain some such item for FREE. Now, I myself enjoy a good pictorial calendar with stunning photos or humorous/retro drawings as much as the next person, but as we've heard everywhere and known ourselves, the economy has been hobbled for quite some time. So when I found a website that allows you to create your own month-by-month photo calendars for free, I thought, "Awesome!" You simply choose from the stock photos already on the website or upload your own personal photos, enter in the specifics of the month you want, then print away! So far, the site is only offering calendars through the year 2011, but if we have the postage money to spare next year, we may very well send out 2012 calendars featuring family photos instead of Christmas cards. Happy New Year!

http://www.calendarlabs.com/photo-calendar.php?photos=animal#animal

Disclaimer: It would only make sense that this website would offer calendar making for personal use only, due to proprietary and legal issues.

Chow Mein Cookies

These cookies are both surprisingly easy and surprisingly delicious. They are a holiday favorite with me and mine, as my mother traditionally made them for special occasions (such as Christmas). Try them for your holiday celebration. You won't regret it!

Chow Mein Cookies (Makes 2-3 Dozen)

2 Five-ounce cans Chow Mein Noodles
1 Twelve-ounce bag chocolate chips
1 Twelve-ounce bag butterscotch chips

Pour both bags of chips into a large saucepan. Melt slowly over low heat, stirring constantly to avoid burning. As soon as the chips are melted, stir in both cans of chow mein noodles. Stir well to coat. Immediately drop by tablespoon onto baking sheets covered with waxed paper. Allow to cool completely. You may store the cookies in the refrigerator, freezer or out in a cool location. Enjoy!

On the Right to Carry

The right to carry firearms is guaranteed by the Constitution so that citizens may be permitted, without interference, to carry their weapons while traversing and otherwise being present on public property. This right does not extend to private property. The Bill of Rights, just as it is expressly designed to protect an individual's right to own, carry, store and operate guns, is also expressly designed to protect the rights of private property holders. Therefore, a person's right to carry ends at the front door of a private residence, business or landholding. Beyond that, it is a privilege, not a right, that is bestowed upon the carrier by the property owner. If I forbid guns in my grocery store, that does not interfere with your right to carry. It only interferes when I go beyond the bounds of my private property onto public property and still attempt to dictate your right to bear arms.

Also, it is not only the weapons operated by the body that can protect us from tyranny in these United States, but also the weapons of the mind. Next time you put your gun down, pick up a book.

Long-winded Wednesday

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then here's a thousand and then some, which would make this post long-winded. In going through old piles of junk to make room for new piles of junk, I came across this newspaper clipping I'd been saving for three years. I believe my original purpose was to submit it to Jay Leno's "Headlines" on the tonight show for my five seconds of fame, but that submission never occurred. Now that I have my very own special web log and I feel that Conan O'Brien got royally screwed, I've decided to share this clipping here.

I've got just one bit of advice for children who wish to announce their parents' anniversary in the local paper: if this is the best photo you have, maybe you should save your money and publish a text-only celebration.

Bacon Cheese Sandwich Casserole

Here is a twist I put on a recipe from a 1950's Betty Crocker cookbook. I made just two ingredient additions, but I think it's a winner. Crispy, like a savory French toast, it makes a filling supper or novel breakfast.

10 slices bread
5 slices cheese
8 slices bacon, cooked until crispy
2 eggs, beaten
2 1/2 cups milk
1 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. mustard powder
1/4 tsp. garlic powder
1/8 tsp. black pepper

Grease a 13" X 9" baking dish. Place five slices of bread on the bottom of the dish. Arrange slices of cheese over slices of bread. Break each slice of cooked bacon in half, and place three bacon halves on top of each slice of cheese. Top each open-faced sandwich with another slice of bread.

In a small bowl, whisk eggs, milk and seasonings until blended. Pour the entire mixture over the sandwiches, making certain that each sandwich is moistened with the egg mixture. Refrigerate dish for at least two hours to ensure that the egg mixture soaks into the bread.

Bake in a preheated 350 F oven for one hour or until golden brown on top.

Serves 4 (or two with huge appetites!)