Dudes. I have had this blog since 2006 and average 3 posts a year. Jeez. That's terrible! How are you going to learn how to cook if all I can manage is 3 posts a year?!
That said, I have nothing to offer you. I am still playing with almond macaroons. I made some meringues the other day. I did not whip the whites to sufficient peak stiffness, nor did I have granulated sugar. So I used powdered. Note to self: FAIL. Also? I was too impatient for the "Forgotten Cookies" to be done. So instead of shutting off the oven and leaving them there for, "2 hours or overnight," I turned the oven back on and they browned. They tasted like burnt marshmallows with almonds and chocolate chips. Which is to say, not bad, but not...right.
I also made a delicious marinade for tofu (or whatever) but didn't pay attention to amounts.
Siracha, Tahini, Miso, Soy Sauce, rice wine vinegar from the pickled ginger I made. Tahini and Miso? Together? OMG.
Must give props to cookbook called something like, "Vegan Cooking for Students," or some such. The only recipe I remember from said book was for grated carrots tossed with equal amounts miso and tahini.
And that is where I learned that Miso and Tahini are BFF.
Now you know.
Extra added bonus? I just realized that I do have granulated sugar. Now I just have to wait for the humidity to back off again.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Saturday, September 05, 2009
White Russian Cake
Had to check back to see where I'd left off. So, the cancer and the dad. First round of chemo done. Surgery, done. Second round of chemo, done. Nothing now for three weeks. And then, well, and then, it gets awesome - five and a half weeks, chemo/radiation, everyday. Not sure about weekends.
It is a goddamn good thing that I am not in school this semester. School started the week after I got back, yes, I have moved back to Pittsburgh - and my bunny brain could not handle it. I moved back into my old apartment. Through a sad circumstance, but, here I am. In the apartment I lived in for 3 of the years I was here before.
It is, without question, my apartment. I did a dance when I first walked in - I love this apartment. It loves me. I feel badly for the girl who thought it was going to be her apartment. But she got arrested with several bags of heroin in her purse and is now in rehab. Her dad is a lovely person. Her stepmom, I'm not so sure. She'd never seen the place. M was here for 2 months and they live 7 minutes away...a bit of me wishes that this space could have been the safe haven for M that it has been for me. The other part of me is glad that I'm here.
It may have been a safe haven for M. I know that M being here wasn't good for the other tenant of the building. And that makes me feel a bit less empathetic towards M. Nancy fr does not deserve drama and drugs and strange threatening people around. Nancy deserves cats that will come visit her, and open invitations to come up for a chat. Nancy deserves someone that she can trust with the key to her apartment should she go into diabetic shock. Nancy deserves someone that keeps fruit punch in the fridge, just in case.
This is not to tout my own horn. I didn't know enough about diabetes when I lived here before. I know a lot more now. And now that I have keys to her apartment the paramedics won't have to break the door down.
The re are many things.
I have no recipe for you right now, although I have been cooking a lot. But I will pass this hint along:
I worked for an amazing woman who made the cakes we served to raves. Her secret? Duncan Hines + alcohol + fresh whipped cream.
To this end, I have two layers of chocolate cake in the freezer waiting to be doused with Kahlua, and frosted with vanilla whipped cream. I am calling it a white russian cake and it is a belated cake for Becky who reads tarot cards where I now work.
Expect much more.
Th
It is a goddamn good thing that I am not in school this semester. School started the week after I got back, yes, I have moved back to Pittsburgh - and my bunny brain could not handle it. I moved back into my old apartment. Through a sad circumstance, but, here I am. In the apartment I lived in for 3 of the years I was here before.
It is, without question, my apartment. I did a dance when I first walked in - I love this apartment. It loves me. I feel badly for the girl who thought it was going to be her apartment. But she got arrested with several bags of heroin in her purse and is now in rehab. Her dad is a lovely person. Her stepmom, I'm not so sure. She'd never seen the place. M was here for 2 months and they live 7 minutes away...a bit of me wishes that this space could have been the safe haven for M that it has been for me. The other part of me is glad that I'm here.
It may have been a safe haven for M. I know that M being here wasn't good for the other tenant of the building. And that makes me feel a bit less empathetic towards M. Nancy fr does not deserve drama and drugs and strange threatening people around. Nancy deserves cats that will come visit her, and open invitations to come up for a chat. Nancy deserves someone that she can trust with the key to her apartment should she go into diabetic shock. Nancy deserves someone that keeps fruit punch in the fridge, just in case.
This is not to tout my own horn. I didn't know enough about diabetes when I lived here before. I know a lot more now. And now that I have keys to her apartment the paramedics won't have to break the door down.
The re are many things.
I have no recipe for you right now, although I have been cooking a lot. But I will pass this hint along:
I worked for an amazing woman who made the cakes we served to raves. Her secret? Duncan Hines + alcohol + fresh whipped cream.
To this end, I have two layers of chocolate cake in the freezer waiting to be doused with Kahlua, and frosted with vanilla whipped cream. I am calling it a white russian cake and it is a belated cake for Becky who reads tarot cards where I now work.
Expect much more.
Th
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