I've been absent for a while. After Thanksgiving, my family and I went to Belize for 10 days. It was glorious except for one tiny horrible thing that happened the first day, the day we arrived, but that's being taken care of soon enough. But now I'm back. And I'm still unemployed. And things don't look too good on the job hunt but there are more important things to talk about.
Part I of this big catch up blog is about BREAD.
While I was in Belize, a crazy part of my brain decided that I should try to make bread there. Why not? Right? The weather is perfect for proofing (89 degrees in the shade). They have yeast there. I have nothing but time to wait for the flour to rise. Somehow, when I was waxing laconic about the beauties of baking fresh bread on a tropical island, I completely forgot about the part where I have to turn on the oven to 450 degrees and then bake it for an hour. That's two hours minimum of 450 degree heat added to the already pretty hot weather.
I went to the local Super Buy and got a bag of flour. It was "bulk" flour weighted out into smaller packets. Imported, pre-packaged stuff is expensive so this was a very affordable option. However, the bag stated the brand and the weight/price. It didn't state whether it was corn flour (??) or regular flour. This is a problem because on the island of Ambergris Caye, corn flour is used a lot. The pupusas are made of flour, tortillas are made of corn flour (as well as wheat), but to my inexperienced, slanty Asian eyes, I could not tell the difference. Oh well. What could go wrong?
I got some packets of yeast. The ingredients are ridiculously simple: flour, salt, yeast, water. The first attempt with the packet of yeast did not go quite as expected. It turned out like it had in the past, where I FORGOT TO ACTIVATE the yeast. There are so many different types of yeast now! Even among the familiar American brands: Active, rapid rise, bread machine, etc. The most simple recipe calls for mixing all the dry ingredients, then adding the warmed water, stirring it, then letting it proof for a while. DO NOT TRY THIS with unfamiliar yeast. Because, this is what I did. And the thing DID NOT RISE. It's ok. The bread turned out to be this kind of nice, dense, flat bread with a crispy crust. It smelled artisan and was much better than the bread on the island. Except creole bread, but that comes later. Creole Bread is so so YUM.
The second attempt at bread went more smoothly. First, I got a measuring cup of warm water. Remember, if you can't stick your hand in it without grimacing from the heat, the yeast won't like it either. If you wouldn't bathe a baby in it, don't activate your yeast in it. (I've got to come up with something more catchy). I sprinkled the yeast over the top to dissolve. Again, I was too lazy to really wait for it to "prove" to me that it was still alive by bubbling. Tropical weather makes anyone lazy. But, one thing to look for when "activating" yeast is the smell. After the yeast is sprinkled on top (sprinkled, dumped, casually tossed, it's all the same!), it should smell like a freshly cracked baguette, steaming hot out of the oven.
The rest of the recipe is the same. Mix. Let it sit. Let it rise. There will be gases that build up. So if your mixing bowl has a lid (like the one I used while on vacation), it may POP towards the end of the 1st hour of proofing and scare your mother who is fiddling around in the kitchen, cutting up pineapples and papaya. In that case, assure her that it was just the bread dough. Keep calm, and carry on vacationing.
The second batch of dough proofed nicely, but there was not as much oven rise. It might have been because the dough was too wet. I didn't have a measuring cup so I did everything by eyeball. It turned out to be a dense, flat bread that spread to all corners of the baking tray. But still tasty.
What I learned from trying to bake bread in Belize: Bread flour is really important. The dough just didn't have the same consistency when I was mixing it. It continued to stay pretty sticky and wet. It never developed the gluten veil that I've learned to look for. The ball of dough also kept spreading out like goo. This could have been because I used too much water. And I didn't end up using the last packet of yeast because the thought of turning on the oven again was too much.
Baking since I've been back from Belize.
Since I've been back, I have made 4 batches of dough (and 1 batch of vanilla cupcakes). I know, I get around when it comes to baking. First batch I made at my parents house with bread flour from Costco that comes in a 50 lbs bag. I don't remember the name but it is not a designer flour. Second batch was made at Rob's house with King Arthur brand bread flour. Third batch was made at Pearl's house with Gold Medal Flour's Better for Bread flour. Fourth batch was made at Rob's house again with King Arthur bread flour.
The first batch is still sitting in the ice box at home. I drizzled a bit of extra virgin olive oil on top for flavor. I also used fresh cake yeast. A lot of fresh cake yeast. I had bought 3 of them before going on vacation. They needed to be used. Thus, I read somewhere that cake flour = 3x granular yeast. Somehow, I translated this into using all 3 cakes in a 6 cup flour batch of bread. In hindsight, this might have been a bit excessive. After all, the "thing" I "read" somewhere was referring to converting the weight of yeast for cake to granular. Not necessarily the amount needed to replace the rising power of yeast. So I have an over-yeasty-excited batch of dough. It's not a big deal. I can split it up in to smaller batches and use it as a starter for about 5x the dough. I'm not concerned. The dough proofed beautifully, nearly busting out of its container.
Second batch was baked the very same day it was make. I used nearly 2 cups of water with much more than 3 cups of bread flour. Unfortunately I don't know the exact measurements because I was looking for a specific texture. This dough turned out beautifully. It was perfect. It was elastic, stretchy, not sticky. The flavor was wonderful. It had large, beautiful holes inside like artisan bread should. I also baked it slightly differently. I didn't use the steam pan. Instead I misted the top of the dough before putting it in the oven. I also put it on the lower rack of the oven rather than the top-middle rack. This change resulted in great oven rise. Some of the best oven rise I've gotten. Rob's oven is not convection. It seems to work better. I don't know why I got caught up in the convection hype but it is not worth it when it comes to baking bread and cupcakes. According to a bread baking book, the ideal situation is to put the dough on the lower rack for the first 15 mins for that oven rise, then to move it to the top rack for a crisp crust. I forgot about that second step so this bread spent its entire life on the bottom rack. This resulted in a slightly, slightly burnt bottom crust. Only slightly. And now I know not to keep it on the bottom rack. We put some sliced onions and ground up dried rosemary on the dough before baking it. It smelled like foccaccia. Yum. And then halfway through baking, when I should have moved the dough to the top half of the oven, I sprinkled some grated emmental and greyeur cheese on top. So delicious. We had it for dinner with some ridiculous Toscano Framani salami ($27.95 per pound! How is that possible?), some more greyuer cheese, late season tomatoes from my garden. I supplemented with some greek yogurt and salsa. I know it's a strange combination. But it's really nutritious, doesn't taste too terrible, and has helped me lose about 35 lbs. Of course, this high protein diet could secretly be growing kidney stones in my body, but so far, so good. I'm happy with losing weight.
Third batch of dough was made at Pearl's house. I made a sort of big fat mess in her kitchen because I accidentally ripped the paper bag of Gold Medal Better for Bread Flour. Not entirely ripped apart, but near the top, there is now an inconvenient hole. Pearl has the most darling measuring spoons. They are black ceramic and shaped like a cat's face. Knowing me, I would break the ceramic immediately by accident. But they were nice to use. I also used her orange colored Kitchenaid Mixer. It was not as big as mine. It has the flip up head and the screw on base. Typically, I'm not really fond of using the mixer for bread. The mixer tends to do things too uniformly and makes recognizing texture difficult. But in this case, we used the really slow "stir" setting and kept stopping it to touch the dough. The "stir" setting is suppose to be used for gentle incorporation, to prevent flour and ingredients from flying out of the bowl. Strangely enough, the "stir" setting kept throwing flour out of the bowl. Violently. And surprisingly. Every few revolutions, it would just toss out some flour. Willy-nilly.
After the dough reached the correct texture (about 4 cups of flour to nearly 2 cups of warm water and 2 tsp of salt), I wrapped it in a plastic bag and put a sweatshirt over it. I set the bowl over their counter top wine chiller where the hum of the electric motor made it a cozy and warm. Unfortunately I had to leave and pick Rob up from work so I was unable to finish this. I left instructions with Pearl on how to bake the bread. Olive oil imparts such a nice flavor. She told me that this nice quality brand of olive oil was on sale at Safeway. I'll have to go take a look soon.
The third batch of dough was just completed about 30 mins ago. Because it's been really cold in San Francisco, I turned on the broiler for a few minutes while mixing the dough. Then, after wrapping the mixing bowl in a plastic bag and towels, I put it into the still warm oven that was now turned off. We will see how this batch comes out. It looks promising because the texture was completely correct. However, I did use a different type of yeast. When will I learn to stay consistent with something that is not broken? Sigh. This is rapid rise yeast and is suppose to work where all the dry ingredients are mixed, then the warm wet ingredients are added. I just couldn't resist fiddling with the yeast! There were these three sad little packets sitting in the fridge, just saying "please don't neglect us!" So I used on. One packet is nearly a tablespoon. And that is close enough for science.
When I want to be really precise, such as baking cakes, I do weigh my ingredients. I will dust off the balance (not just a scale, but a balance!), calculate the conversions of volume to weight, and then weigh it out. This is likely the reason my cakes turn out much more reliable than my bread. Cake failures are much more catastrophic and disgusting than bread failures. Rob will nearly always eat bread. But no one wants to eat bitter cupcakes. That only happened once.
And this concludes Part I of the catchup post that covers my exciting experience with bread. I don't know why I get so excited about baking. It really gives me a warm fuzzy feeling when I see the dough rise, and then the bread baking and rising more. I will post pictures. I just need to get in sync with my camera. My camera and I, we used to be like this (cross fingers). But now, we are more like orbiting planets around the sun.
Happy Sunday Football!
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Friday, November 25, 2011
Morning After
It turns out that while I dislike holidays that are centered around food and food consumption, I really really like gravy. And when I don't get my promised gallon of brown goo, I feel incomplete.
Yesterday, Thanksgiving, the BF fell ill. Two nights before, when we were at my parents house for a small pre-thanksgiving Japanese feast of wild mushroom miso soup, sashimi hand rolls and rib eye, the BF was sneezing and dripping. He blamed my cat of course. But it was not her. She hadn't been anywhere near his nose. I didn't want to say, "maybe you should put on a sweatshirt since you are wearing only a t-shirt." He is the type to cut off his nose to spite his face. I realize this. And if I were clever enough, I could get it to work for me, rather than against me. I need to reverse psyche him somehow.
Right, yesterday, the BF sniffled, dripped and sneezed his way through the morning while I did my prep for the two dips and home made crusty bread. I was going to make a spinach and artichoke dip, then a hot crab dip. Oh, the joys of lump crab and cream cheese. The joy of which I have been denied. I have a whole pound of lump crab. The BF doesn't eat crab. I am not going to make a whole pound of crab dip to be eaten by myself. Well. I could. I have some nice Cambazola cheese in the fridge, with some crusty bread. It could be very nice. But if I ate all of that, I would die of over-stuff-ness. I would literally go blind from the happiness of eating a pound of lump crab. Only kings and emperors get to eat pounds of deshelled lump crab. And I am no king. Right around noon, the BF pulls the plug on our Thanksgiving plans. He calls up our friends and tells them we can't make it. No turkey. No mashed potatoes. NO GRAVY. Did you hear me? I said I don't get any gravy! All year long, I look forward to this stupid holiday so I can pour gravy over every thing on my plate. And this year, it's been pulled out from underneath my feet. I managed to pull together a spinach stuffed chicken breast with roasted oyster mushrooms, spinach stuffed mushrooms, and some wild mushroom ravioli made from scratch! No crab though. And no gravy. It was a mushroom themed mini thanksgiving. Which we ate while watching the pathetic sf v. baltimore game. LAME LAME LAME.
This morning, I wake up at 7am and get my jeans on. I hustle slowly down to Clement street to buy some gnarled ginger roots. My father and mother told me of an old wives remedy for the BF's cold. I have to hammer the gnarled ginger, simmer on low for an hour, then stir in some dark brown sugar to taste. Actually, this sounds like a delicious rice pudding recipe too.
While on Clement street, I cannot help but buy some dim sum. It's just there. Calling to me. Little packets of shrimp and pork. Savory, glistening bundles. But. Lately the MSG has really killed me. I get this wa-wa-wa headache and dry mouth and suddenly pass out from the MSG. It has made me very wary to eat anything from Clement street that is not a baked bread. Really, it's the only gripe I have with Chinese food. I can control my portions well enough so I don't accidentally on purpose eat my whole day's worth of calories in one meal. But I cannot control my portions so well that I escape the clutches of MSG. In order to accomplish that, I need to eat only 1 type of each dumpling, and no more than 2 overall. That is effing nuts. Especially when considering that each serving comes with 3. Sigh.
This morning, I got some fried shrimp dumplings, fresh out of the fryer. Oh gorgeous juicy fried ball. It was delicious. I snarfed two down before starting the car. And then I ate the 3rd one right before sitting down at the computer. Now, I feel the liquids draining from my mouth in the tell-tale (tale-tell? Tell-tell?) sign of MSG overload. Why must dim sum be so overloaded with MSG as to kill a small Asian girl? Why? I will try to give up dim sum. Really.
This weekend, I will eat cheese and bread and turn into a while man with a hairy belly. That will show the BF.
Yesterday, Thanksgiving, the BF fell ill. Two nights before, when we were at my parents house for a small pre-thanksgiving Japanese feast of wild mushroom miso soup, sashimi hand rolls and rib eye, the BF was sneezing and dripping. He blamed my cat of course. But it was not her. She hadn't been anywhere near his nose. I didn't want to say, "maybe you should put on a sweatshirt since you are wearing only a t-shirt." He is the type to cut off his nose to spite his face. I realize this. And if I were clever enough, I could get it to work for me, rather than against me. I need to reverse psyche him somehow.
Right, yesterday, the BF sniffled, dripped and sneezed his way through the morning while I did my prep for the two dips and home made crusty bread. I was going to make a spinach and artichoke dip, then a hot crab dip. Oh, the joys of lump crab and cream cheese. The joy of which I have been denied. I have a whole pound of lump crab. The BF doesn't eat crab. I am not going to make a whole pound of crab dip to be eaten by myself. Well. I could. I have some nice Cambazola cheese in the fridge, with some crusty bread. It could be very nice. But if I ate all of that, I would die of over-stuff-ness. I would literally go blind from the happiness of eating a pound of lump crab. Only kings and emperors get to eat pounds of deshelled lump crab. And I am no king. Right around noon, the BF pulls the plug on our Thanksgiving plans. He calls up our friends and tells them we can't make it. No turkey. No mashed potatoes. NO GRAVY. Did you hear me? I said I don't get any gravy! All year long, I look forward to this stupid holiday so I can pour gravy over every thing on my plate. And this year, it's been pulled out from underneath my feet. I managed to pull together a spinach stuffed chicken breast with roasted oyster mushrooms, spinach stuffed mushrooms, and some wild mushroom ravioli made from scratch! No crab though. And no gravy. It was a mushroom themed mini thanksgiving. Which we ate while watching the pathetic sf v. baltimore game. LAME LAME LAME.
This morning, I wake up at 7am and get my jeans on. I hustle slowly down to Clement street to buy some gnarled ginger roots. My father and mother told me of an old wives remedy for the BF's cold. I have to hammer the gnarled ginger, simmer on low for an hour, then stir in some dark brown sugar to taste. Actually, this sounds like a delicious rice pudding recipe too.
While on Clement street, I cannot help but buy some dim sum. It's just there. Calling to me. Little packets of shrimp and pork. Savory, glistening bundles. But. Lately the MSG has really killed me. I get this wa-wa-wa headache and dry mouth and suddenly pass out from the MSG. It has made me very wary to eat anything from Clement street that is not a baked bread. Really, it's the only gripe I have with Chinese food. I can control my portions well enough so I don't accidentally on purpose eat my whole day's worth of calories in one meal. But I cannot control my portions so well that I escape the clutches of MSG. In order to accomplish that, I need to eat only 1 type of each dumpling, and no more than 2 overall. That is effing nuts. Especially when considering that each serving comes with 3. Sigh.
This morning, I got some fried shrimp dumplings, fresh out of the fryer. Oh gorgeous juicy fried ball. It was delicious. I snarfed two down before starting the car. And then I ate the 3rd one right before sitting down at the computer. Now, I feel the liquids draining from my mouth in the tell-tale (tale-tell? Tell-tell?) sign of MSG overload. Why must dim sum be so overloaded with MSG as to kill a small Asian girl? Why? I will try to give up dim sum. Really.
This weekend, I will eat cheese and bread and turn into a while man with a hairy belly. That will show the BF.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Happy Thanksgiving!
Hello World. Happy Thanksgiving tomorrow.
I'm a little behind the news. Bar results came out. I passed. It was stressful. I almost didn't check the website. My BF ended up checking for me. And the results page was cryptic so he had to read it twice before he was sure it meant anything.
A lot of people I know did not pass. The statistics for this exam are not yet out. But looking at past results, the pass rate has hovered around 50%. It has been even lower for the February bar. This past February, the pass rate was about 48%. The year before that, it was 38%. Rough.
It is a tough exam. My heart goes out to all those that did not pass. Don't give up. Don't talk yourself out of taking the exam in February. I don't know what to say exactly. But I believe in you!
I'm still unemployed. Today, I finished writing a cover letter for a grant. This grant is for people who are volunteering. That would be me. I am still volunteering at a government agency, in the public sector, as an advocate for public safety. That reminds me I need to reword something in that cover letter. The institution that is giving out this grant (my school) is very defense oriented. Therefore I need to align my objective with their goals. Some creative massaging of words. Massage. Massage.
It turns out that I accomplish very little work when I'm at home. Is it the cold? Is it the perpetual distraction of kitty? Or is it something else? I went to the BF's work today and punched out this cover letter. Yesterday I spent the whole day lousing around my house, accomplishing nothing. I did make some bread dough for thanksgiving tomorrow. And played tennis with my father. And bought some groceries. But none of my efforts went towards accomplishing the reason for taking the time off.
For lunch today (yes, it's come to that: describing what I had to eat, and how I ate it) I walked 0.3 miles to a mexican taco shop on Middlefield Road and bought two $1.25 tacos. The total cost came to $2.73. I walked away with a bag of food: two tacos on a plate, a bag of corn chips and a container of salsa. It was more than enough food for me. And the salsa. Was beautiful. It was a bright red color dotted with green flecks of cilantro. There were some translucent onions floating among the red tomato. And the spicy burn came from something I could not see. Invisible spice! The tacos were served on two corn tortillas each. I saw a woman in the back pressing handmade tortillas but I guess my order didn't deserve those. Or I have to ask for it specifically. And I don't speak Spanish AT ALL. The chicken atop the tacos was all white meat, diced. The quality of the meat was very good. I got about 3 oz of chicken total. It was served with a slice of lime and a disc of radish. I ate both tacos which was a bit too much for me because it was 1pm when I ate and I had about 8 oz of greek yogurt immediately prior to the tacos. And 16 oz of hot water.
I have been playing tennis these past few weeks. It's terrific exercise.
I'm a little behind the news. Bar results came out. I passed. It was stressful. I almost didn't check the website. My BF ended up checking for me. And the results page was cryptic so he had to read it twice before he was sure it meant anything.
A lot of people I know did not pass. The statistics for this exam are not yet out. But looking at past results, the pass rate has hovered around 50%. It has been even lower for the February bar. This past February, the pass rate was about 48%. The year before that, it was 38%. Rough.
It is a tough exam. My heart goes out to all those that did not pass. Don't give up. Don't talk yourself out of taking the exam in February. I don't know what to say exactly. But I believe in you!
I'm still unemployed. Today, I finished writing a cover letter for a grant. This grant is for people who are volunteering. That would be me. I am still volunteering at a government agency, in the public sector, as an advocate for public safety. That reminds me I need to reword something in that cover letter. The institution that is giving out this grant (my school) is very defense oriented. Therefore I need to align my objective with their goals. Some creative massaging of words. Massage. Massage.
It turns out that I accomplish very little work when I'm at home. Is it the cold? Is it the perpetual distraction of kitty? Or is it something else? I went to the BF's work today and punched out this cover letter. Yesterday I spent the whole day lousing around my house, accomplishing nothing. I did make some bread dough for thanksgiving tomorrow. And played tennis with my father. And bought some groceries. But none of my efforts went towards accomplishing the reason for taking the time off.
For lunch today (yes, it's come to that: describing what I had to eat, and how I ate it) I walked 0.3 miles to a mexican taco shop on Middlefield Road and bought two $1.25 tacos. The total cost came to $2.73. I walked away with a bag of food: two tacos on a plate, a bag of corn chips and a container of salsa. It was more than enough food for me. And the salsa. Was beautiful. It was a bright red color dotted with green flecks of cilantro. There were some translucent onions floating among the red tomato. And the spicy burn came from something I could not see. Invisible spice! The tacos were served on two corn tortillas each. I saw a woman in the back pressing handmade tortillas but I guess my order didn't deserve those. Or I have to ask for it specifically. And I don't speak Spanish AT ALL. The chicken atop the tacos was all white meat, diced. The quality of the meat was very good. I got about 3 oz of chicken total. It was served with a slice of lime and a disc of radish. I ate both tacos which was a bit too much for me because it was 1pm when I ate and I had about 8 oz of greek yogurt immediately prior to the tacos. And 16 oz of hot water.
I have been playing tennis these past few weeks. It's terrific exercise.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
I got my computer back!
Yes! Apple has not failed me. I dropped off my dead computer on a Tuesday or Wednesday (I forget now, because brain failure is imminent) and by Friday of the same day, it was shipped back to me. From TEXAS! I have my computer back! Just in time to check BAR RESULTS!
There are 3 days until bar results are available. On November 18, 2011 at approximately 6pm, I will be able to access my results. Of course, please allow 45 minutes - 1 hour for the servers to catastrophically CRASH when 9,000 people try to access the website at the same time. The waiting. It drives us crazy. The closet full of post-bar interns at work (myself included) have been reduced to blobby pegs of meat, banging our heads against the wall. We sit and stare at the computer in front of us, occasionally touching the mouse pad, accomplishing not-very-much.
Random thought on BookFace. Some people need to have their mobile bookfacing devices taken away from them. Or they need to twitter. Because there is one person who keeps writing volumes and posting it on his bookface. Volumes of verbal garbage. Before he got his mobile updating device, he was limited to garbage only when he was at his computer. Now, he can garbage all the time. I'm talking about you. You know who you are. You who don't know about this blog because that would mean CATACLYSMIC implosion!
Tomorrow, I am going to back nearly 100 cupcakes for BHC (for work). It's graduation and I thought I'd do something nice for all the participants who have worked so hard towards their mental health and sobriety in various capacities. Also, because baking helps me to blow off steam. It's countdown time to the bar results.
Work has become so comatose that every time someone erroneously or inadvertently brings up the bar, I have to spout random facts in order to change the subject. For instance, my cat treats me the same way no matter how I do on the exam.
In the morning, I will play tennis and then bake.
There are 3 days until bar results are available. On November 18, 2011 at approximately 6pm, I will be able to access my results. Of course, please allow 45 minutes - 1 hour for the servers to catastrophically CRASH when 9,000 people try to access the website at the same time. The waiting. It drives us crazy. The closet full of post-bar interns at work (myself included) have been reduced to blobby pegs of meat, banging our heads against the wall. We sit and stare at the computer in front of us, occasionally touching the mouse pad, accomplishing not-very-much.
Random thought on BookFace. Some people need to have their mobile bookfacing devices taken away from them. Or they need to twitter. Because there is one person who keeps writing volumes and posting it on his bookface. Volumes of verbal garbage. Before he got his mobile updating device, he was limited to garbage only when he was at his computer. Now, he can garbage all the time. I'm talking about you. You know who you are. You who don't know about this blog because that would mean CATACLYSMIC implosion!
Tomorrow, I am going to back nearly 100 cupcakes for BHC (for work). It's graduation and I thought I'd do something nice for all the participants who have worked so hard towards their mental health and sobriety in various capacities. Also, because baking helps me to blow off steam. It's countdown time to the bar results.
Work has become so comatose that every time someone erroneously or inadvertently brings up the bar, I have to spout random facts in order to change the subject. For instance, my cat treats me the same way no matter how I do on the exam.
In the morning, I will play tennis and then bake.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Paying Back Loans of DOOOM
It's about 5.5 months since I graduated from that "learned" institution. It is about time to face that really big horrible elephant in the room: STUDENT LOANS. The really tricky thing about student loans is that when you first receive them, in your first tender year of school, they NEVER GIVE YOU THE SUM. The big sum. The sum that you will be looking at when you finish school. The one that you will be happily paying back for the next 30 years of your life. More like my life. If there was a rule that a person could not die until they paid back everything they owe, I would LIVE FOREVER.
On top of the impending student loan due date, my computer is broken. Yes. The brain of my computer is fried. At first I thought it was the hard drive. I was a little scared that I would lose all of my precious data. All 60 gigabytes. Actually, I have no precious data. Some of my data is rather dear to me. But, I'm not going to have a heart attack over loss of data. Data loss happened in college a few times, and I stopped having coronaries over it. Alright, I admit, I had a few sleepless nights this week when I worried about the fate of my computer. And it did not feel good. Life is already stressful, I didn't need to add on anticipated stress. Most of my worry had to do with the cost of replacement. Apple is not known for being budget-conscious. Or wallet-friendly. I was afraid that the cost of repairing my old computer would be the same or very close to the cost of a new computer. Sigh. Technology moves so fast.
It turns out that my computer was not suffering from a malfunctioning hard drive. Instead, it's the logic board. The brains of the computer. Basically, when I buy an Apply laptop, I'm buying the logic board. It is the meat of the computer. And it is dead. The replacement part is about $900. (Spits water out all over the monitor at this news). Yikes! Luckily Apple has this "flat rate" repair for $310 (excluding water damage). Wheew. I feel like $300 is a reasonable amount to pay to repair a perfectly good 4 year old computer. Yes, when I first got it, I thought I was going to be a photographer. Photoshop. Magic. Now, the most processing power I require is to run OpenOffice. And occasionally Word. But I try not to summon that evil djinn too often.
The weather has turned really cold these past two days. Cold and rainy. Yesterday, I re-weatherproofed my bedroom window. Does this mean that winter is really here? It's going to be rain and wind and cold from now on? More so than usual? My frugal nature (and sensitive skin) prevents me from turning on the little electric heater in my room except in dire circumstances. Occasionally, my wrists hurt from the cold and then I have to put on gloves or turn on the heater. I have been known to walk around looking like a bag lady, all bundled up.
It looks like the bag lady is going make a comeback. Now, hand me my woolies.
On top of the impending student loan due date, my computer is broken. Yes. The brain of my computer is fried. At first I thought it was the hard drive. I was a little scared that I would lose all of my precious data. All 60 gigabytes. Actually, I have no precious data. Some of my data is rather dear to me. But, I'm not going to have a heart attack over loss of data. Data loss happened in college a few times, and I stopped having coronaries over it. Alright, I admit, I had a few sleepless nights this week when I worried about the fate of my computer. And it did not feel good. Life is already stressful, I didn't need to add on anticipated stress. Most of my worry had to do with the cost of replacement. Apple is not known for being budget-conscious. Or wallet-friendly. I was afraid that the cost of repairing my old computer would be the same or very close to the cost of a new computer. Sigh. Technology moves so fast.
It turns out that my computer was not suffering from a malfunctioning hard drive. Instead, it's the logic board. The brains of the computer. Basically, when I buy an Apply laptop, I'm buying the logic board. It is the meat of the computer. And it is dead. The replacement part is about $900. (Spits water out all over the monitor at this news). Yikes! Luckily Apple has this "flat rate" repair for $310 (excluding water damage). Wheew. I feel like $300 is a reasonable amount to pay to repair a perfectly good 4 year old computer. Yes, when I first got it, I thought I was going to be a photographer. Photoshop. Magic. Now, the most processing power I require is to run OpenOffice. And occasionally Word. But I try not to summon that evil djinn too often.
The weather has turned really cold these past two days. Cold and rainy. Yesterday, I re-weatherproofed my bedroom window. Does this mean that winter is really here? It's going to be rain and wind and cold from now on? More so than usual? My frugal nature (and sensitive skin) prevents me from turning on the little electric heater in my room except in dire circumstances. Occasionally, my wrists hurt from the cold and then I have to put on gloves or turn on the heater. I have been known to walk around looking like a bag lady, all bundled up.
It looks like the bag lady is going make a comeback. Now, hand me my woolies.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Friday, October 28, 2011
Tres Leches Cake
Good God, Charlie Brown, it's EARLY! It's about 6:50 am and I'm trying to slap myself awake to go play tennis with my father. We have been pretty good about it all week. I played on Wednesday and Thursday mornings. On Thursday, after an hour+ of tennis, we came back and repaved a bit of the walkway in the backyard. See these hands? They swung a sledge hammer and broke several hundred pounds of concrete. Then they moved the concrete, broke it into smaller pieces, extracted some dying zucchini plants, tilled the land, filled in the walkway with hardcore, and POURED 400 pounds of concrete. By hand.
My right hand has a beautiful blister. It doesn't have the fluid filled stuff yet. It's just at the stage where it's red and very upset. When I was playing yesterday, the skin squidged together as I held the racket. Then, as I opened my hand, I could hear the skin separating like two pieces of duct tape being ripped apart. Lovely. I've been looking up how to avoid hand trauma. Many people recommend taping it before it becomes a problem. But when it's a blister, super glue is suppose to be god's gift to tender skin.
Baking:
I have been making a lot of sweet breads lately. I made a true brioche loft (pretty good when fresh out of the oven but then got dry and too crusty/flaky), a cinnamon swirl bread and some monkey bread. With regular bread dough I made some dinner rolls of varying sizes in muffin/cupcake tins. There is another bucket of brioche/sweet dough in the fridge ready to be made into cinnamon swirl bread.
My excuse:
There are no pictures of the monkey bread because my parent's friends descended upon it like flying turtles in a pond. My parents had a little gathering on Wednesday. I made monkey bread that day. In the morning, I cut the dough into small pieces, rolled it into a ball shape and then covered it with brown sugar and cinnamon. I made a little too much because a few balls fell out of the loaf pan and onto the baking sheet. It was so delicious. There was none left at the end of the gathering. And I couldn't find the camera in time to take photos.
My mother has requested more monkey bread, which I am happy to oblige. The brown sugar caramelizes and turns the whole thing into a beautiful doughnut-like texture bite with sweetness and tender bread.
Current food obsession: Tres Leches Cake - good or bad?
Tres Leches cake is a traditional Mexican or Spanish cake. There are as many recipes as there are regions in Mexico, or taquerias in San Francisco. Each one is slightly different. In some, the sponge is more firm. In others, the sponge is like a cake. Some recipes use the three milks in a consistency like a syrup. Others have more liquid milk-like milks.
Do I like this kind of cake? Or do I not like the whole category? It seems to consistently give me a stomach ache if I eat too much of it (more than 3 spoonfuls). YET I CANNOT STOP MYSELF. Especially in the morning when my will power is at its lowest. Like now.
I want to make a tres leches cake to try it out. But if I make it, I'm committed to a certain volume of 3 milk mixture (at least 2 full cans of milk). And I think I would get really really sick of it way before I got through that. How to make a smaller, sized down version?
In the meantime, I've been buying it from panaderias. And I bought it once from a hippie dippie trendy deli location in San Francisco. Each time, it was really sweet. And gave me a stomach ache.
On to change into tennis clothing.
My right hand has a beautiful blister. It doesn't have the fluid filled stuff yet. It's just at the stage where it's red and very upset. When I was playing yesterday, the skin squidged together as I held the racket. Then, as I opened my hand, I could hear the skin separating like two pieces of duct tape being ripped apart. Lovely. I've been looking up how to avoid hand trauma. Many people recommend taping it before it becomes a problem. But when it's a blister, super glue is suppose to be god's gift to tender skin.
Baking:
I have been making a lot of sweet breads lately. I made a true brioche loft (pretty good when fresh out of the oven but then got dry and too crusty/flaky), a cinnamon swirl bread and some monkey bread. With regular bread dough I made some dinner rolls of varying sizes in muffin/cupcake tins. There is another bucket of brioche/sweet dough in the fridge ready to be made into cinnamon swirl bread.
My excuse:
There are no pictures of the monkey bread because my parent's friends descended upon it like flying turtles in a pond. My parents had a little gathering on Wednesday. I made monkey bread that day. In the morning, I cut the dough into small pieces, rolled it into a ball shape and then covered it with brown sugar and cinnamon. I made a little too much because a few balls fell out of the loaf pan and onto the baking sheet. It was so delicious. There was none left at the end of the gathering. And I couldn't find the camera in time to take photos.
My mother has requested more monkey bread, which I am happy to oblige. The brown sugar caramelizes and turns the whole thing into a beautiful doughnut-like texture bite with sweetness and tender bread.
Current food obsession: Tres Leches Cake - good or bad?
Tres Leches cake is a traditional Mexican or Spanish cake. There are as many recipes as there are regions in Mexico, or taquerias in San Francisco. Each one is slightly different. In some, the sponge is more firm. In others, the sponge is like a cake. Some recipes use the three milks in a consistency like a syrup. Others have more liquid milk-like milks.
Do I like this kind of cake? Or do I not like the whole category? It seems to consistently give me a stomach ache if I eat too much of it (more than 3 spoonfuls). YET I CANNOT STOP MYSELF. Especially in the morning when my will power is at its lowest. Like now.
I want to make a tres leches cake to try it out. But if I make it, I'm committed to a certain volume of 3 milk mixture (at least 2 full cans of milk). And I think I would get really really sick of it way before I got through that. How to make a smaller, sized down version?
In the meantime, I've been buying it from panaderias. And I bought it once from a hippie dippie trendy deli location in San Francisco. Each time, it was really sweet. And gave me a stomach ache.
On to change into tennis clothing.
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