Dinner Out

We picked up the kid a little later than usual, and then grabbed a quick dinner of burgers on the way home. It's amazing how much longer the evening feels when I don't have to make dinner, nag my kid about eating dinner, and clean up after dinner. There's time for building Lego cars and lots of stories.

But tomorrow, back to the usual rush.

Waiting for Winter

This book, by Sebastian Meschenmoser, made a few best-of-kid-lit-2009 lists. I wanted to get it for my kid for Christmas, but it is out of stock everywhere. I found a used, very slightly damaged copy and it arrived today. The illustrations are fabulous — I mean, a hedgehog and a squirrel singing sea shanties? Awesome.

Of course my kid's favorite part of the book was the smelly sock.

No-knead bread

Although the first loaf of the year isn't finished, I am going to start on a batch of no-knead bread. You know, the famous New York Times no-knead bread that everyone was making two? three? years ago. I made it once then, and was underwhelmed. I've done some reading on it over the past couple of days, and figured out (not that it was that hard) the difference between the New York Times recipe and the competing no-knead people. (They have a book, but I can't remember its name, or their name. But I'm pretty sure it is two of them.) They use a lot more yeast, so the bread takes less time. But I can't imagine all that yeast does anything good for the flavor.

An article on Culinate recommends doing a kind of in-bowl semi-knead, so I'll try that, too. I've been reading sample pages online of Peter Reinhart's Artisan Breads Every Day, and will buy it as soon as I recover from holiday sticker shock.

So, to bread and then to bed.

New Fish & Old Microwave

We've acquired a fish, and this fish has now made its way to the kitchen, on a counter near the window. It is warmer there, and sunnier, too -- things, apparently, that fish like. He is swimmier in the kitchen, but it has made the counter space seem even more inadequate than it seemed before. It's a small kitchen, not really ideal for serious cooking, and impossible for baking. And we have an enormous, "family-size" microwave that is taking up valuable territory. I think I lobbied for getting rid of it when we first moved, and lost, but the fish has opened a new opportunity. Microwave popcorn is no good for you, we're not supposed to microwave in plastic, and purists say tea should not be brewed with microwaved water. Surely we can figure out another way to reheat leftovers. (Or just take them all to work for lunch, where there is a microwave.)

In any case, I'm hoping soon to find out what a microwave-free life might be like.

A yeasty* new year

One of the resolutions I've made frequently over the years is to make more bread. This is a way of keeping in touch with food, and with family history, as well as a kind of meditative practice. Of late, I've been reading the labels of commercial bread more carefully and have been dismayed at all the unnecessary stuff that goes into bread. But with many such resolutions, it quickly falls by the wayside. I'm not labelling more bread-making as a resolution for 2010, but I did bake bread yesterday, and to do so I had to open a very large package of yeast I had in the pantry. I can't remember exactly what caused me to buy such a large amount of yeast (last year's resolution?) but I will have to bake a lot of bread to use it up!

Also, the most recent issue of Saveur put me onto the website freshloaf, a good resource. I'll need to get more flour before my next loaf.

* I find it interesting that "yeasty" can mean both "creative" and "frivolous".

Some resolutions not kept

1) To make meringues. This is a kitchen project that intimidates me, and thus was on the list for last year. I came close to completing it in the run-up to Christmas — I saved egg whites — but didn't have enough superfine sugar, and had already baked waaaay more Christmas cookies than we could eat. (Dozens in the freezer.) Also, I would have had to improvise a piping bag. So it didn't happen.

2) To go to an art museum alone. I went to an art museum, just not by myself. The idea behind this one is that I would rather look at art in solitude. However, other things seemed more pressing when I did have alone time. Actually, I did do this -- but it was in part research related.

3) To get a pedicure. It would be awesome to have great-looking toes during the summer, but I am still working up to this one. And I'm not sure I will get there, or really want to. Maybe when they have pedicure-giving robots. Or maybe those pedicure fish.

4) Eat at a taco truck. I forgot about this one during the summer, and by the time I reviewed my (failed) resolutions in December I had no desire to eat tacos. Summer food.

Back-up Pie

I used to bake a lot. Now I don't. And this puts me in the funny position of thinking of myself as a baker, but without the frequent baking experience that makes me confident something will turn out well. I decided to bake two desserts for Thanksgiving, and got the cake made without incident. The pie, however, resulted in a freak-out. After I made the crust, I started thinking about how much I hate blind-baking crusts (fear of shrinkage ...) and then became convinced that the pie was going to be a disaster. And I hadn't made enough dough to start over if disaster struck. As a result of all my freaking-out, my husband ended up going to get a pie at the grocery store. From my perspective, this was a desperate move — who serves grocery store pie at Thanksgiving? But once I had my back-up pie, I got over my fear and made the pie. It wasn't perfect — the crust seemed too buttery when I baked it off, I probably should have baked it longer, and it wasn't great in the end — but the pie was still pretty good.

Now I've committed myself to making three dozen cupcakes in a few days, and am having second thoughts about that.