cake isn't supposed to make you angry, al

On Sunday, I drove back to DC from home. I did it begrudgingly, and only after seriously considering calling in sick to work on Monday, and staying home an extra day. Ultimately I decided my guilty conscience would outweigh any benefits garnered from the extra day hiding out at home. 

So, after I unloaded the innumerable pounds of laundry I took home with me to wash, I forced myself to go to the grocery. Might as well get ALL the unpleasantness out in one day, I reasoned.  (I really hate grocery shopping, in case you don't know me and/or didn't know that about me)

At the grocery, I grabbed a jar of molasses and a bag of chocolate chips on a whim. They were on sale, I was still brain dead from driving 400 miles, and next thing I knew, they were in my increasingly full basket. I think my subconscious was reminding me that I've really been wanting to bake something gingerbread-y lately. Or something. Go with it. 

When I got back to my apartment, I googled around for a good recipe, but all the ones I found didn't really appeal to me. Since google typically only turns up results from places like allrecipes, food network, epicurious, and the like, I sometimes go elsewhere. In this case, "elsewhere" was the Williams-Sonoma site. Sometimes their recipes are a little too elaborate for my taste, but this chocolate chip gingerbread one seemed totally approachable. I realize when I was pulling all of the ingredients out of my tiny pantry that I didn't have cloves, but decided that wasn't the end of the world, and went for it anyways. 

I'm so glad I did. Of all the baked goods I've pawned off on coworkers, this was by far the biggest hit. I don't know if everyone was just in the mood for a holiday confection or what, but the little bundt cake got glowing reviews. And, it gave me a chance to give poor, neglected Kitty the Kitchenaid stripper some attention. A win all around.

 

wheeeeeee (butter, sugar, vanilla)

 

flour/cocoa/spice mixture, molasses, flour coated chocolate chips

 

the holiday scented batter, popped in the oven 

 

45 minutes later, it looks like this (or prettier, if you're skilled like the W-S cooks)

and tastes like gloriousness 

ps-the title comes from what became a funny moment with my boss. We were having a little communication breakdown over how an upcoming meeting will be conducted, and he got a little brusque. Then he noticed the cake on the ledge of my desk, and harumphed about it. I said "cake isn't supposed to make you angry, Al!" and the woman who sits across from me got the giggles, and next thing we knew, he had snuck a piece while we weren't looking. He later admitted that "it was alright, I guess" (from him, that's a compliment, believe me!).

case of the mondays

I know that really no one likes Mondays. I think we're all prepared for a little more blah-ness than usual on Mondays. And as much as I try to give myself a pep talk and buck up somewhere between the metro and my desk, Mondays at my office always start off on an especially sour note. 


See, all of the senior staff from the DC office and the overseas office meet at 8 am every Monday via video teleconference (VTC). It's my job to get to the conference room early and make sure everything is set up properly, which is a huge joke, because the VTC system never, ever works. And rarely is anyone from IT to be found, even though it's their job to also get there early to help. Even if the entire IT staff is there, I have yet to see them fix the various malfunctions that occur. Even though it's not my fault that the machine doesn't work, I always have several angry managers staring me down as I try to figure out some crackerjack back up solution. It's beyond frustrating, and just not a great way to kick off every single work week. 

Because I'm a notorious stress baker, instead of stomping my feet or punching the VTC machine or yelling at IT (ok, that one happens sometimes), I often go home on Mondays and fire up the oven. 


Last week, I was inspired by Allie to go on a pumpkin kick. Always having success with Pioneer Woman recipes, I decided to try her pumpkin spice muffin concoction. While I wish her devotion to sifting flour weren't so fervent, I otherwise find her recipes pretty approachable, and this was no exception. 


There was a moment where I was afraid I'd bought the wrong kind of pumpkin, and did some frantic googling ("is puree the same as solid pack?" is a surprisingly easy question to answer, apparently). In case you're also naive to such distinctions, I'll save you some fretting and tell you that they are, in fact, one in the same. 


Whew. So anyways, minor pumpkin semantics aside, the muffins came out beautifully (in appearance and taste). I burned the roof of my mouth to make the taste determination, but it was worth the sacrifice. I'm not a great photographer, so you'll have to take my word (and not the quality of these pictures) for the muffins' actual aesthetic success. 

I had about half of a can of pumpkin left over, and I didn't want to waste it. I had shortbread on the brain, so I thought pumpkin shortbread would be delicious. I used this recipe, and the shortest way to put it is that something went awry. I'm honestly not sure what, sadly, but they tasted like dry, bland cookies, not like shortbread. I'm starting to learn that I really just need to stop after one successful baked good. This is not the first time I've taken on one too many recipes in an attempt to banish stress, only to see the second (and third and...) fail. 

Not to be dissuaded by the shoddy shortbread, I just stocked up on flour, sugar, and other necessary sundries today. That said, I'll be away from the office in training for the next two weeks, so I'm hoping for a hiatus from my usual Monday morning stress fest... 

you win some, you lose some

I generally don't successfully bake and cook all in one night. If I cook something resembling a grown up meal, dessert is a few spoonfuls of brown sugar in a bowl (no, really, I eat it straight...weird, but delicious and satisfying). If I go on a baking spree, I'll probably have a bowl of cheerios for dinner. 



Last night was a bowl of cheerios night, I'm afraid. I say "I'm afraid" because let's just say my pants are fitting a little tighter than I'd like these days, and the last thing I need is (multiple) dessert(s) for dinner. I also declared it a cheerios night with some trepidation given my latest "final hurrah" project. Being elbow deep in sugar means I won't really have time to make a dent in the meat supply in my freezer. And with my Vegas road trip looming, my self-imposed vegetarian experiment is also quickly approaching. 



But I was determined to come back from the sweetened condensed milk failure of last week and finally make Hello Dolly bars. I also somehow got it in my head that I need to make a mini apple crisp. I have some aging apples in my fridge, and DC is experiencing an early taste of fall, so it just seemed right. And I had been looking for an excuse to use the mini red pie pans I picked up at World Market ages ago. 


So when I came across this recipe for apple crisp after minimal searching and comparing, I immediately knew I had to pick it. See, it calls for flour OR finely crushed graham crackers. The Hello Dolly bars also call for crushed graham crackers. If two recipes can benefit from the same ingredient being whirled around in my (wait for it) mini food processor, sign me up. I really, really hate doing dishes. It takes away a small percentage of the post-stress baking satisfaction.  

After what was supposed to be a quick, frugal trip to a newly discovered Harris Teeter near my apartment, I came home with an hour less of my life and a lot less money in my pocket (never again will I go to the HT after accidentally having skipped lunch). Bowl of cheerios in my shaking, food deprived little hands, I started with the Hello Dollys...

butter + graham cracker crumbs 

(may or may not have scarfed down what didn't fit in the pan)

I really dislike coconut, but in the spirit of high school dessert nostalgia, I went for it

Mmmm, chopped pecans

a whole slew of chocolate and butterscotch

and finally, sweetened condensed milk 

(which I am convinced is the crucial ingredient)

So how did they turn out? I am really disappointed to say that they came out all wrong. See, Smitten Kitchen's recipe didn't specify how to layer the ingredients, so I just put them down in the order they were listed. Big mistake. If I had to do it again (and I most likely will try them again as I hate to admit defeat), I'd miss the coconut, pecans, and chocolate and butterscotch chips all together, then throw them over the crust. They taste ok, or at least ok enough to eat straight from the pan at 3am (I'm having some serious insomnia these days), but they just aren't spot on. All my hopes were pinned on the crisp at that point. 
 

chopped fuji apple in a lemon, sugar, nutmeg, and cinnamon bath

butter, dark brown sugar, and graham cracker crumb crust

finished product + a baby scoop of ice cream

The crisp was definitely the success story of the night. Perfect size, perfect flavors, perfect maiden voyage of the mini pie pan. Surprisingly I'm not in some sort of sugar coma today, although I do feel like I need to brush my teeth a few extra times to stave off cavities...

angry paella

Once upon a time while living in Italy, I got so mad that the only thing I could channel my energy in to was cooking. I've never enjoyed cooking, but I fired up the gas stove in Casa Artom and made what will forever be known as angry paella. 

I can't remember where I found the recipe, but I tried in vain to lay my hands on it for months after I got back from Venice, because it was really, really good. Prior to that point, I'm honestly not sure I'd ever cooked a meal, not to mention a good one. 


Eventually I found a recipe that I think gets pretty close to the original. I can't remember where I found that one either (noticing a pattern here?), but here it is, fresh from my recipe box on the ever-useful Epicurious site:


-1 garlic clove, minced
-1 TBS olive oil
-1/2 lb hot or sweet Italian sausage (w/o fennel seeds)
-1/2 lb skinless chicken breast, cut in 1 inch pieces
-1 c (arborio) rice
-1 c onion, chopped
-1 1/2 c chicken broth
-1 (8oz) can stewed chopped tomatoes
-1/2 tsp sweet paprika
-1/8 to 1/4 tsp crushed red pepper
-1/8 tsp ground saffron
-1/2 lb medium shrimp
-1/2 c red bell pepper strips
-1/2 c green bell pepper strips
-1/2 c frozen green peas


1. heat the garlic and oil in a large skillet.
2. remove the sausage meat from its casings. add the chicken and sausage to the oil and stir until browned (about 10 min)
3. spoon off all but 1 TBS drippings from the skillet. add the rice and onion. cook, stirring until onion is transparent and rice is lightly browned (about 5 minutes)
4. add the broth, tomatoes and their juice, paprika, red pepper, and saffron. bring to a boil; reduce heat, cover, and simmer for 10 minutes.
5. add the shrimp, red and green pepper strips, and peas. cover and simmer for 10 minutes, or until rice is tender and liquid is absorbed.


I've never actually made it with sausage, chicken, and shrimp all at once. Normally I just make it with chicken and/or shrimp. And although the recipe doesn't specify, I take the chicken out after it's cooked, but before I put the rice and onions in. Because chicken isn't greasy like sausage, I normally splash a little more olive oil in there pre-rice/onions, too. I've often forgotten the tomatoes, sometimes forgotten the garlic, and never have found sweet paprika. What I'm saying here is that it's a pretty forgiving recipe, so long as you get the rice toasting/cooking part right. 


Anyways, I made angry paella last night not because I'm particularly angry right now, but because one of my coworkers wanted to learn how to make it. I also happened to need help moving a new piece of furniture from my car to my bedroom. So, after work, a few coworkers caravanned back to my apartment. We moved furniture, then the boys watched tennis while I taught my friend how to make the dish (and I realized that I make a terrible instructor). 


During last night's paella lesson, I tried a combination of regular and smoky paprika in lieu of sweet, and while I liked the flavor of the smoky paprika, I was a little too heavy handed with it. I also forgot the garlic. What can I say?...I never cook both quickly and well. Regardless, I think the best paella is truly born out of anger, but there were clean plates all around the table, so I'm proof that it's worth giving this a shot, even if you aren't ticked off. 

super bowl reese's cup

Towards the end of my impromptu week at home, we went in to the city for dinner with our family friends. We were celebrating a birthday, and as I mentioned, I wanted to handle dessert so that I could try and tweak the chocolate peanut butter square recipe that I first attempted for Allie's birthday.


When I made the squares the first time, I couldn't find Nabisco famous wafers, but managed to locate them at our local Harris Teeter this time. I was hoping that'd make all the difference in terms of a more cohesive crust. I just had to crush them with a rolling pin first (which was a surprisingly effective outlet for some pent up stress). 

I was a little over-excited by the presence of a microwave for butter-softening purposes, and things got a little out of control. By a little out of control, I mean in the last few seconds of heating, the stick of butter simply collapsed in the microwave. And no, I did not put it in a dish to warm it...

Gross, right? But butter disaster aside, I managed to whip everything together fairly quickly (which is an impressive feat, as I swear I'm the world's slowest, messiest cook). I'm disappointed to report that the crust was still a bit of a crumbly mess. Next time, I'm nearly doubling the butter quantity in the hopes that it will help things stick together better. Anyways, I threw together a little assembly line, and the (very heavy) pan was in the fridge in no time. 

We threw that in the cooler with wine, the mini peanut butter cups from Trader Joe's, and dark chocolate gelato that I'd made earlier in the day. 

If you have an ice cream maker, by the way, I am telling you this with all the seriousness I can muster: drop everything now and go make this. It is insanely delicious. If you can find Hershey's "special dark" cocoa powder at your grocery, that really takes it to the next level. And if you, like me, decide to make the batter before a marathon day of shopping, and leave it in your fridge for more than the one hour they suggest, fear not. That pudding like consistency that you come home to? Yeah, it still makes lick the bowl-worthy gelato. 

After dinner at our friends' house, we pulled out the dessert and set up yet another assemble line. Onto the plate went a peanut butter square, a scoop of gelato, a sprinkling of leftover cookie crumbs, and a few mini peanut butter cups. By dessert, the men-folk were watching football while we ladies chatted elsewhere, and from the den emerged a declaration from one of our friends: "Jenny, I am so proud of you...this is like the...Superbowl of Reese's cups!" He then begged for seconds of what is possibly the world's richest dessert. Success. 

(currently wondering why I didn't steal any leftovers...)

spring (errr, summer) time risotto

It's funny, most people are excitedly gearing up for a long weekend right about now, but I'm sitting here wondering how my unexpected week off is nearly over. With Monday devoted to my drive back to DC, it doesn't much feel like a holiday. As much as I like being home, it will be nice, I suppose, to fall back in to some sort of work routine, and more blog-worthy, some sort of LKTC routine. 


Reading The China Study really got me thinking about my diet, which, I imagine, would be assessed as "bad" by any diet guru, doctor, or nutritionist. Despite having contemplated following the book's "no animal protein" mantra, even just for an experimental month, I've been doing anything but that since I've been home (cough cough trip to Five Guys with my parents cough). 


I thought I'd be doing more cooking at home, given the more spacious, better-equipped kitchen at my disposal (and my mother's reaction to my coming home for a week: "Jenny's coming home! She'll cook for us every night!"). But we've been super busy, so one of the only meals I've thrown together was Monday. 


I completely arbitrarily decided to make risotto, and settled on this recipe from Williams Sonoma. I cut the rice and liquid in half, and it was still more than enough for three people. I skipped the peas (Mom hates them), the mint (didn't seem to fit), and the cheese (I hate it), and added asparagus instead. This part of the process felt very healthy. 

I could even convince myself that the tomato, basil, mozzarella appetizer was a semi-healthy move (although the half off special on mozzarella went a long way in persuading me to throw the package in my basket at the grocery). 

I was apparently feeling guilty and economical, because I refused to let the little loaf of (approaching stale) sourdough on the counter go to waste (nevermind that I wasn't the one who even purchased it), so I slapped some olive oil and minced garlic on it and threw it in a 350 degree oven hoping for the best. I'd say it looks pretty tasty, and the parents at least pretended to agree when they ate it. 

The risotto turned out pretty well, if a touch wine-y (isn't that supposed to evaporate, at least a little?). I think it looked very summery, if a bit monochromatic. (PS-cheese lovers, I know you're still stuck on that "I skipped the cheese part, but the parents and I are here to tell you that it was still perfectly creamy). 

There aren't any other major meals on the agenda for the remainder of my mini-vacation. We're going in to the city tomorrow to celebrate a family friend's birthday, and I basically insisted on bringing the dessert. I'm dying to take a second stab at the chocolate peanut butter squares that I made a few months ago (trying to compose a better crust this time). On top, we're going to scoop dark chocolate gelato with, wait for it!, mini milk chocolate peanut butter cups from Trader Joe's (which reminds me, they're hiding in the fridge and I need to...sample....a few). I know everyone loves Trader Joe's, but I think it's actually a land mine of cheap booze and sugar, which are two things over which I am apparently physically incapable of exercising any sort of self-control.  Proof:

Ok, just kidding, that's all of the wine for a huge charity dinner my parents are planning for our church.  But still, TJ's is dangerous, people (she says, as one hand is in the container of mini milk chocolate peanut butter cups). 

lake of caramel

I'm spending some time at home for all sorts of reasons, none of which are worth really discussing.  But let's just say that I found myself frighteningly close to purchasing a one-way ticket to Italy and/or volunteering for a stint in a war zone, and I knew it was time to take a little break. Luckily my bosses were really generous about the whole thing, and so here I sit, "relaxing" at home.   


Relaxing gets the quotation marks, because I'm not the best at chilling out, and there have been some...exciting...moments since I got home. 


Saturday we had some friends over for dinner.  Right before I jumped in the car to drive home Friday, I tossed Fiona in the back seat.  She was a horrible car companion, very boring and quiet, but I knew she'd redeem herself making salted caramel ice cream (a special request from Mom).  


Making the ice cream batter went much smoother than my first attempt, which probably had something to do with having an extra set of hands in the kitchen.  When it was time to churn the batter, though, Fiona and I had our first spat.  


I left everyone on the patio chatting to quickly toss the batter in the machine.  I was obviously not thinking straight, or was just really excited for ice cream, because I neglected a hugely important step.  I DIDN'T PUT THE BOWL ON THE BASE.  So I turned the machine on and started pouring the batter in to the base of the machine.  Luckily I realized what I'd done before I poured in every last drop, but it was still a huge mess. There was suddenly a lake of caramel in the kitchen, and I was so ill. 


I poured as much batter as possible back in the mixing bowl, cleaned Fiona up as best I could, pulled the churning bowl from the freezer and set it on the base, and tried again.  It worked (as you can assume most things will when you do them CORRECTLY), but I was worried I may've gunked up the motor.  So while I fumed, Mom got to work cleaning with a paper towel/wooden skewer contraption...

Thankfully neither the ice cream nor Fiona seemed to suffer from my total idiocy.  In fact, it was completely amazing scooped over brownies and "lacey" cookies...

I only wish I could have enjoyed it more, but I haven't been feeling well at all. In fact, I pretty much convinced myself that I've acquired an ulcer.  Whether it's an ulcer or my first brush with heartburn in my entire life, my esophagus hurts like nothing I've ever felt before (and no, there is no logical correlation to my eating habits).  Subsequently my appetite has taken a nose dive.  In what I can only imagine is a logical next step, I spent most of yesterday extremely dizzy.  Even I, one of the most anti-doctor people ever, was ready to go to urgent care first thing this morning. 


And then the dog groomer called us early this morning to let us know our dog had a huge bruise on her throat. Since I'm home and the parents are at work, I got to pick her up from the groomer and take her to the vet. It turns out I'll make one nervous mother if I ever have kids, because I was especially worried. The vet assured me that Gracie is fine (apparently dogs, like humans, bruise when they have blood work done, and she had just had her annual vet appointment Saturday). Still not sure if I'm fine, though, as I've now talked myself out of my own trip to urgent care. 


I'm here for another week, but I'm hoping we've gotten all of the excitement over within my first few days, or I'm going to go back to DC just as strung out as I was when I left...

where are my people?

On the morning of earthquake day, I had a long conversation with one of my two bosses.  It started out as some sort of briefing, but somehow ended up being about of our frustrations with grown up life. (Note: she has way more ground to stand on, as she is married with kids, owns a home, and leads a large team of eccentric auditors.)  


But we both agreed that even though we had some suspicion that post-college life wouldn't be easy, we assumed we'd be compensated, at least in some small part, by the company we would keep.  We figured we'd find ourselves among smart, funny, successful, kind people, and that would dull the pain of mortgage (or rent) payments and the 9 to 5 grind.  


Instead, we have found ourselves consistently surprised by how unintelligent, disappointing, and/or hurtful people are.  Where in the world are my people? we want to know. Probably not in this office, we concluded. And then the earth rumbled. Big day, really, between existential crisis conversations and building evacuations. 


So when I got home from the earthquake, I decided to go ahead and make the jacked up cookies and cream ice cream, and realized that this is the kind of ice cream you make for your "people."


It's a labor of love, what with the sticky, messy affair of coating (football-shaped!) oreos in melted chocolate...

And letting vanilla bean pods steep in warm milk for an hour...

And then there's that whole egg yolk-cooking step that I have yet to execute gracefully (not to mention photograph successfully).  The dulce de leche-making step should go on behind the scenes of the rest of this, cooking up nicely in the oven while you melt chocolate and steep vanilla.  Unless you're me, and forget to cover the pan of sweetened condensed milk with foil.  And then you pull the oven open an hour later to find curdled sweetened condensed milk. After having had to smell and deal with that business, I'm here to tell you that stuff should be reserved for whatever the opposite of "your people" is.  

But even without the dulce de leche, it is divine...

I've made plenty of tasty ice cream with Fiona, but this was a new level of success.  This is the ice cream you make for the people who are there for you when those dumb/hurtful/disappointing people have you in a bit of a tizzy.  For the people who let you rant and rave and complain, even when they've heard it all before.  For the people who force you to eat even though you've stressed yourself out so much that you barely remember what an appetite feels like (and may have given yourself an ulcer...).  For the ones who remind you that you're actually very lucky after all.  Bless all of you, especially the ones who I haven't been able to give a container of jacked up cookies and cream yet.  

lent leftovers

I have this little list tacked up on my fridge (sadly there's no photo, not even a crappy blackberry photo).  It lists all the dishes I had hoped to attempt (and dare I say...perfect) over the course of my "no eating out" edict during Lent.  Off the top of my head, I remember: waffles, pancakes, biscuits, patatas bravas, and drunken noodle.  

Embarrassingly, I only attempted (and in the case of biscuits, I'd say nearly perfected) the first three. If you search for a patatas bravas recipe, the wide array you'll find is, in my mind, overwhelming.  I typically check a few different recipes each time I'm trying something new to get a handle on possible variations, but there were just too many in this case.  I decided I'd just have to visit Jaleo often to devise my own approach.

I can't recall what my excuse was in the case of the drunken noodle dish.  It's my favorite Thai dish, and one of the things I probably missed most during Lent.  I suspect sheer laziness likely won out in this battle.  

BUT, great news. Well, great for me anyways.  Allie decided to try and make it, and it was amazing. She found this recipe, and we made a trip to the local H Mart to round up supplies.  We didn't find everything we were looking for (looking at you, mini corn and young green peppercorns), and spent a lengthy amount of time contemplating the overwhelming plethora of soy sauce/oyster sauce options. Following many "oh what the heck, let's try it" proclaimations, we found ourselves facing one of the area's more tenacious storms this summer.  The lightning/thunder were seemingly right on top of us, and I've literally never seen it rain harder in my life.  We made a run for it, and subsequently looked like we had showered in our clothes.  The soy sauce, however, was fine. 

While the ingredient list looks daunting, I think I speak for Allie accurately when I say it was fairly easy (if a bit heavy on the prep work), and really delicious.  We used regular Thai basil and skipped the mini corn and green peppercorns with no real impact (in our opinions).  We did a soy sauce taste test, though, and we're here to tell you that the recipe calls for different varieties for a reason. It definitely gets the LKTC seal of approval, and I'll hopefully try making it myself soon. 

See, isn't it pretty? (don't mind the awful phone photo)

 

My contributions were small, but complimentary (of course I'd say that, but you're going to either have to trust me here, or make all of it yourself to test my assertion).  I made Asian slaw with ginger peanut dressing, which was light but spicy, and a good starter for the drunken noodle. I actually cut the honey and oil quantities in half, and we didn't notice any impact on flavor or quantity of dressing.  Luckily I realized last-minute that I accidentally bought parsley instead of cilantro at H Mart, and managed to correct my novice error. Not only do I loathe parsley, but it would've tasted awful in this dish. 

it was also a bit chopping intensive...

  

but overall, worth the effort!

For dessert, I brought the chocolate red pepper gelato that I made a while back.  I already knew Allie would love it, but Alicia was a fan, too, and couldn't get over the tickling sensation the red pepper left behind.

Never one to be satisfied for long with any singular kitchen success, tonight I tackle the "jacked up cookies and cream" ice cream recipe...

a salty weekend

Like any true type A girl, I have a running list of projects I want to tackle.  It is sometimes in my mind, sometimes on a piece of paper I inevitably lose, sometimes on my blackberry.  This past weekend, in between various social stuff, I decided to take on two of the long-standing items: hangers and salted caramel ice cream.

Re: hangers... I decided a while back that I wanted my hangers to be consistent in my closets.  A luxury, sure, but I had a little wiggle room in my budget last month, so I went for it.  And last weekend, I decided it was time to take the matching black hangers out of their many boxes and get cracking.  Which led to my living room looking like this:

As if whipping my wardrobe in to some level of submission wasn't tiring enough, I also took on the ice cream.  I've made ice cream with Fiona before, but this would be my first attempt at an egg yolk-based recipe.  It also would involve making caramel.  Eeek. 

To tackle the project, I consulted this salted caramel ice cream recipe from Epicurious (typically one of my top go-to recipe sites).  I really wish recipes were better about indicating time requirements.

Still being a total novice in the kitchen, I don't have a good grasp on things like how long it takes sugar to become caramel (not long).  Or when to stop cooking the sugar (um, still unsure).  Or how long the milk will take to dissolve the caramel (a lifetime). Or the appropriate length of time to cook the eggs in the milk to avoid both salmonella and scrambled eggs (a heck of a lot less time than you'd think).

So I heated...

And swirled...

And dissolved...

And strained...

And got (amazing) ice cream!

Note that there are no pictures of the whole egg-cooking adventures.  Let's just say it's a two-hand process that does not lend itself well to photography or any other distractions.  It was a little stressful navigating the recipe for the first time, but, the result is so sinful, I can't even explain it.  Luckily it's beyond rich, so I only eat a few spoon fulls at a time, but it's just as dangerous as the chocolate ice cream with mint chocolate cookies.  

Now that those two things have been crossed off the list, I've got my sights on other projects (including new ice cream flavors, and much less thrilling things like 401(k) rollovers).  Exciting times, I know.

farm fresh (well, sort of)

I was going to tell you all about slopovers tonight, since I know you were all on the edges of your seats about that business.  But, a series of uncharacteristic things happened, and I felt compelled to share (mostly so I could remind myself that, on occasion, I get things right). 

First, I came home from work at went to the gym in my building.  Gym is a generous term, it's nothing more than a few cardio and weights machines, but it's free and approximately 30 seconds from my couch.  And after a particularly unhealthy day of eating and general lethargy at training, I came home antsy (and chastising myself for my abysmal eating habits).  So I guilted myself right down to the basement "gym" for the first time in the nearly two years I've lived in this building.  Shameful, I know. 

Then, my poor, out-of-shape body needed some time to rebound after a mere half hour of cardio, so I went over to Allie's to water her plants.  On my way back to my apartment, I realized ALL, I mean all my body wanted was vegetables.  

Side note: I don't really buy in to any given food/diet phenomenon.  I a) like food too much, b) don't know enough about nutrition, c) am a bit lazy.  But one thing I genuinely believe is that our bodies crave what they need.  As a girl with a raging sweet tooth, even I don't believe that means my body always (errrr, ever) needs the endless sugar I consume.  When I say crave, I'm referring more to things like fruits/veggies/water/(occasionally) meat.  I'll be the first to admit I eat really poorly most of the time.  Not that I necessarily eat a ton of fried food, I just don't eat balanced meals. So when I realize my body wants, say, red meat or something green, I generally think that's its way of saying "um, vitamin C. PLEASE" or "hey, a little protein would be nice."

Which is my really long way of saying, I made this for dinner:

The squash, zucchini, and fruit were the only things that are actually fresh from the store.  The french green beans, peas, corn, and snap peas were all from my freezer and steamed back to life.  While I, like most people, I'm sure, prefer fresh, I tend to be pretty awful at using produce before it goes bad.  Case in point:

And third, I actually sat at my dining room table to eat (instead of just using it as a staging area for crappy food photographs), and left my phones and computer in the living room.  I realize that's a tenuous distinction when all of your rooms occupy approximately 700 square feet, but I'm typically glued to something electronic all day, every day, so I consider this an accomplishment in restraint.  I didn't even turn the TV on.  While I didn't go so far as to light candles or anything like that, it was a nice change from 

Ok, so those are really the only three uncharacteristic events, but, I'm a little (too) proud of them, and I want to try to do more of this healthy stuff.  The rest of my day was unfortunately very characteristic (forgetting my lunch in the fridge at home, eating poorly, hating what I was wearing, feeling guilty when I saw the girl in front of me snacking in watermelon while I ate my skittles, etc).  

Now I'm going to characteristically sit here on my couch, read my book, and ignore the dishes in the sink for a while...

dangerously delicious

Ok, lucky for you all, I'm beyond exhausted and not feeling verbose.  I'm in training this week, and it's 8 solid hours of lectures, group bonding, and embarrassing adventures public speaking.  My brain literally aches.  I don't think I've had to concentrate this consistently since I graduated. 


So I will very quickly tell you about how my new ice cream machine and I are getting along. IT IS AMAZING!


Quick enough for you? I thought so. 


The first recipe I've tried is the one for basic chocolate ice cream, found in the instruction booklet that came with Fiona. Towards the end of the churning process, I threw in some chopped mint chocolate cookies.  I could lie and say Allie helped me polish it off, but the reality is, she ate a tiny bit, and I ate the rest.  In one sitting.  Obscene.  

So much chocolate.  So good. 

Wheeeeeeee.  (yes, I was captivated by this for longer than I care to admit)

We can all agree that I'm a terrible food photographer, but can we also agree that this looks delicious? I thought so. 

Here's the recipe in the event that you don't own the Cuisinart ice cream machine, or long since lost your instruction book:

3/4 cup cocoa powder, sifted

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1/3 cup packed dark brown sugar

pinch salt

1 cup whole milk

2 cups heavy cream

1/2 tablespoon pure vanilla extract [in typing this, I realized I read this as teaspoon, not tablespoon, but I didn't think the ice cream was lacking in flavor]

1. In a medium bowl, whisk together the cocoa, sugars, and salt.  Add the milk and, using a hand mixer on low speed or a whisk, beat to combine until the cocoa, sugars, and salt are dissolved [I used a whisk, it worked fine].  Stir in the heavy cream and vanilla.  Cover and refrigerate 1 to 2 hours, or overnight [I opted for overnight]. 

2. Turn on the ice cream maker and pour the mixture into the pre-frozen bowl.  Let mix until thickened, about 15 to 20 minutes [mine took about 10, but I also halved the recipe]. If you're going to add something like chopped cookies, do so about 5 minutes prior to the end of the mixing time. 

Just be prepared for the implications of having homemade ice cream in your freezer!