August 30, 2010 2

Do Fun Stuff

By Andrea in friends, inspiration, talented people

{Go here. Go now.}

You can learn all you need to know about the album, you can learn all the how’s, why’s, the charity, the tax forms and research in the same place.

To learn about love, humility, dedication, and faith in some of the most beautiful words you can muster, you’d have to go here.

Either way – you have a chance to make a difference. I’m not a big charity plugger, I don’t do causes. But words cannot express the love that we both have in this house for this family, and so we’re asking you – go. Buy. Listen. Love. Do. Fun. Stuff.

August 27, 2010 2

Weekend – Check In, Check Out

By Andrea in check in check out
Events conspired to make this week feel approximately 35 days long – some in good ways, some in bad. As the tomatoes ripen and the nights get colder we’re coming to the realization that summer is ending – cue fish n’ chips on the patio, swimming in the ocean, cold beer in the warm sun and outdoor movies. Chock full of color, hopefully this Check In, Check Out keeps summer alive for a bit longer yet…
  • I can’t get enough of this song. I’m sure the people on the treadmills beside me in the morning can.
  • But if an altercation is forced, hopefully I’ll be wearing this.
  • This makes me itch for blue hair again. Who knew?
  • Barring blue hair, perhaps purple eyebrows?
  • I’ve been reading this book, and it makes me crave campfires to tell stories around.
  • We spent a random Tuesday night on the ocean, diving off of sandbars and watching the sky. The pictures hardly do justice to such a magical night..
August 25, 2010 5

kempt kitchen: raspberry and blueberry pound cake

By Andrea in kempt kitchen

I feel a junkie rush each Saturday morning at the market, slipping my hands over stacks of carrots, fondling spinach leaves and squeezing baby beets. My eyes get cloudy and I can barely hold onto my bagel as we slip from one aisle to the next, Jared laden down with bags as I furiously cram paper sacks and handfuls of produce and eggs and tiny boxes into every available hand. I sniff and squeeze and listen to recipes, roll blueberries in my mouth and bury my face in dahlias as he saunters behind me with his coffee, guardian to a woman epicuriously possessed. This week it was raspberries and blueberries, new and tart and bright, taunting and hallucinogenic. Encased in a not too sweet pound cake, toasted and slathered with salty butter, these slabs ward off the shakes and autumn like spongy methadone.

{As usual, all changes to the recipe or general hilarity where I burnt myself, forgot something, or think that something really sucked are noted with an asterisk and annotated at the end of the recipe.  Those are usually the funny parts. Recipe borrowed from A Handmade Life, reprinted from Bon Appetit, July 1986. Infinite thanks to Kyla for the gift of the book, and the sentiments contained within.}

2 cups plus 8 tablespoons cake flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
5 large eggs
1 2/3 cups sugar
2 1/2 sticks (1 1/4 cup) butter diced at room temp
2 tablespoons kirsch*
1 cup blueberries
1 cup raspberries

* I did leave this out, mostly because I couldn’t shell out the money for it when I was pushing my other habit – fresh produce. The cake didn’t suffer too much I think, though it was quite dense and some moisture probably would have went a long way.

Generously butter a 9-cup Bundt pan, and dust it with flour, shaking out the excess.

In the bowl of a food processor, blend together the eggs and the sugar until smooth and thick, about 1 minute, stopping once to scrape down the sides of the bowl. Add the butter and kirsch, and blend until the mixture is fluffy, about 1 minute, stopping once to scrape down the bowl. Add 2 cups plus 6 Tbs flour, baking powder, and salt, and pulse twice or so to just combine. Do not overmix.

In a large bowl, toss the raspberries and blueberries with the remaining 2 Tbs flour. Using a rubber spatula, fold the batter into the berries. Transfer this finished batter to the prepared Bundt pan, spreading it evenly across the top. Place the Bundt pan on the center rack in a cold oven, and turn the oven to 300 degrees Fahrenheit. Bake until a toothpick or knife inserted in the cake’s center comes out clean, about 1 hour and 25 minutes. Cool the cake in the pan for 5 minutes; then invert it onto a rack to cool completely. *

*we may or may not have also made french toast out of this. Just sayin’.

August 23, 2010 5

a slice – summer saturated

By Andrea in a slice, photography

We ended up with a fluke long weekend this week, and took full advantage! Jared took me out on a fancy lunch date on Friday, and we took the opportunity to sit on the patio and soak up what is soon to be the very last of the hot summer sun. We make it to the farmers market on Saturday morning despite torrential rains, and were duly rewarded with amazing fruit, veggies and bagels with cream cheese and lox. We spent Sunday drinking, dancing, eating and tie dying before falling into the ocean at night exhausted and happy. We’ve taken today to relax, sleep in and wash the dye from our fingers and the salt from our hair, curling up in warm sheets to keep away the first of the cooler nights.

August 19, 2010 4

a traveling song

By Andrea in a life unexamined, love

I put it on a CD for him years ago. It became a song suspended between shitty airport bars and shuttles, an inaudible sign that we were both leaving and moving father away in miles, closer together in measures and notes.

Between ticket counters and security checks we would slip on our headphones and listen for the first rasping cackles, the notes emerging as if pulled through the fog of red eye flights, the swells breaking as I wiped my eyes on damp sleeves and slipped noiselessly through the metal detectors.We were always going in opposite directions.

Somewhere between the departure lounge and 3 years later, this song has become the harbinger of adventure. Somewhere 30,000 feet above ourselves, checking in and out of many cities and many flights, bounded by ticket counters and gangways, we started listening together.

Between countless crappy cups of airport coffee, Christmases apart and vacations together there is that moment. There is that moment where he reaches out his hand and he slips on his headphones. A moment where he slides his hand behind him, grasping at the air, extending his hand to mine. A moment where my hand slaps into his, we fall in step, we press play, and we go.

This September I’ll be hitting play alone as I head here, passport in hand.

August 16, 2010 9

field of play

By Andrea in a life unexamined, catch up, resolutions

At this point it has become tragically obvious that in my dogged and flawed pursuit (and subsequent tragic failure) of this project, I was remiss in mentioning one particular yet key factor: It’s success was entirely dependent upon my discovering the ineffable key to manufacturing time.

All my talk of arrows and bows, aims and targets fell to pieces once I realized that as much as this was a game I so very much wanted to play, I was left carrying my bows and arrows to and from 12 hour work days. The feathers split and the flints became mired in a purse full of discarded gum and cigarette shells, my bow string snapped when I haphazardly tried to (only mockingly) strangle myself with it.

If targets were goals and arrows resolve, then time was the field I was playing in. Insofar as we can stretch a metaphor, it must be recognized that “field” was a really kind word for that strip of “grass” that grows between the sidewalk slabs, and “time” was a really nice word for those five minutes outside of work where I’m not stuffing my face or falling asleep. Or trying to do both at once.

Guiltily, I must tell you – I’ve known this for months. My goals fell around me crumpled and stained with ketchup and beer like so many dirty uniforms I pulled off over the nights when suddenly… Somewhere between confusing myself with sewing patterns turned to semi-edible paste with tears and debiting my sleep account into serious overdraft, I realized what torturous meta lesson I had actually taught myself.

There is only so much time. Protect your arrows. Protect your goals. In the end, there is nothing more torturous that attempting to make homemade marshmallows in between 8 hour shifts as a sycophantic challenge to yourself.

So as a failed alchemist unable to turn enthusiasm into hours, I’ve taken another route – I’m finding time. In the cooler hours of the morning I’m slowly getting into shape at the gym. In the evenings I have off, I’m signing up for Home Ec. In the weeks that I have off, I’m planning travel. And in the hours that I don’t have any time at all right now, I touch my arrows, and I look at the field to come.

Because sometimes, you just have to buy your fucking marshmallows from the store.

August 9, 2010 6

a slice

By Andrea in a slice, photography

It was a quiet weekend filled with waiting. J finally made his way home this weekend, we celebrated his birthday quietly with a carefully crafted dinner and glass of wine together. It was a weekend filled with little gifts – sunshine when I least expected, a new dress, painted nails and fresh new produce. It was spent hushed up in each other, waiting for the rest of the summer to creep in our windows and surprise us.

August 6, 2010 10

A Country Slice

By Andrea in a slice, photography, travel

Saskatchewan, in it’s bizarre and barren nothingness, is beautiful. The skies are so big you take them into yourself for 180 degrees, the weather alternately blisters you with heat then cold, and the kindness of strangers often overwhelms. Saskatchewan fills the void with the people that live there, and we spent an amazing 3 days immersed somewhere between learning old family history and creating new history with J’s family – the first time I’d met them all.  It was perfect. Prairie thunderstorms rumbled in our chests, the sun singed our noses and our hands were held, sticky with marshmallows, buy the people that love us.

July 30, 2010 5

Friday: Check In, Check Out

By Andrea in Uncategorized

We’re off to Saskatchwan this weekend for a family reunion, to spend four days in the sun, pool and tents. I’m looking forward to the time off, the time with J, and some time to just.. breathe. It’s been a strange and hectic dash through the end of July, and I’m looking forward to 10 days off to recoup, reorient and relax. Until I’m back.. for your pleasure!

July 27, 2010 8

Kempt Kitchen – Strawberries and Biscuits with Basil Creme Anglaise

By Andrea in kempt kitchen

There would be a mutiny, and possibly a murder if I’d turned on the oven in the past few weeks. It has been so warm that we’ve only been pulling things from the garden or foraging in the crisper and eating them as they wilt in our hands. Late last week we drove out to the Lochaber strawberry festival to take advantage of the bumper crop, and even later as the first cool breeze of the evening blew in I set to baking. Sweating butter and cream and basil these came together late at night and soothed the palate of a house longing for more than salads. They are perfect summer, delicious and cool, beautiful and fresh, warm and cool all at once.

{As usual, all changes to the recipe or general hilarity where I burnt myself, forgot something, or think that something really sucked are noted with an asterisk and annotated at the end of the recipe.  Those are usually the funny parts. Recipe for the biscuits are from James Beard, and the creme anglaise from Julia Child’s DVD’s, a gift from my mother!}

1 tsp. salt
1 Tbsp. baking powder
2 teaspoons white sugar
1-11/2 cups whipping cream *
1/3 cup melted butter

½ cup milk (4 ounces)*
½ cup heavy cream (4 ounces)
4 large basil leaves, ripped up
4 egg yolks (2 ounces)
¼ cup sugar (2 ounces)

Preheat oven to 425.  Combine the flour, salt, baking powder and sugar in a mixing bowl.  Stir the dry ingredients with a fork to blend and lighten.  Slowly add 1 cup or 1 1/2 cups of cream to the mixture, stirring constantly.  Gather the dough together; when it holds together and feels tender, it is ready to knead.  If the dough seems shaggy and pieces are dry and falling away, then slowly add enough additional cream to make the dough hold together.

Place the dough on a lightly floured board and knead for 1 minute. Gently roll the dough out into a rectangle that is about 1/2 inch thick.  Cut into circles or squares and dip each into the melted butter so all the sides are coated.  Place the biscuits 2 inches apart on the baking sheet and bake for about 15 minutes** or until the biscuits are lightly browned. ***

* While this suggests 1 to 1 1/2 cups, I used the whole 1 and 1/2 cups, and as per my mother, she always has as well. It was perfection.
** These took EXACTLY 15 minutes. My oven is pretty bang on, and on the middle rack, this was perfect.
*** The biscuits need to be zipped up and stored in a ziplock, or they go a bit stale fairly quickly. To revive, simply toast!

Mix the milk and cream in a small saucepan. Add ripped basil. Bring just to a simmer, then remove from the heat and let steep for 15 minutes or so to infuse the dairy with basil flavor.

Partially fill the largest bowl with equal parts ice and water, and set the larger of the remaining bowls on the ice. Set a strainer in place over that bowl.

After the basil has infused the dairy to your satisfaction **, remove the basil, then return the pan to gentle heat and stir frequently. In the third bowl, quickly whisk the yolks and sugar together. Once the dairy reaches a simmer, remove it from the heat and whisk about a tablespoon of it into the yolk and sugar mixture. Continue adding the dairy to the yolk and sugar mixture slowly to avoid curdling.

Once the dairy, yolks, and sugar are fully incorporated, return the custard to the pan and return the pan to the heat. Stir constantly for 1-4 minutes until the custard coats the back of a spoon. Pour through the strainer into the bowl over the ice. Stir until cool, cover, and refrigerate. Spoon over dessert, warm or cool.

* The recipe SAYS 1/2 cup milk 1/2 cup whipping cream, but my fridge said “Milk? I haven’t seen milk in years.” So 1 cup of whipping cream it was, and it turned out perfectly!
** I let it sit while I read this somewhat confusing recipe a few times, perhaps 8 minutes or so? The basil flavour was there, but not too strong.

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