I was so wrapped up in projects yesterday that I never even made it out of the house — not even to check the mail. So this morning, the first day of spring, I thought I would go for a nice long walk. When I emerged from the cocoon of our apartment, however, I realized immediately that spring may be here, but it is certainly not in the air. I headed right back inside and grabbed my winter hat and put on a warmer jacket. Not cheered by this fact, I changed my plans to a quick walk. As I came out of the little wooded path into the neighborhood behind ours, I saw this:
I have never seen a tree tapped for sap before other than in pictures. And this jug had some liquid in it, but quite thin murky-looking liquid that I thought was quite possibly rain water. (I was told later that this was, in fact, how sap looks straight from the tree.) Nonetheless, it made me chuckle and break out the camera that I often bring on walks, but that usually remains forgotten inside my pocket. Then down the block from the sap gatherers, I found this:
Hopscotch is surely a sign of spring. There were many more welcome signs around the neighborhood, despite the snow flurries in the air:
This house had a whole hedge of forsythia — I can't wait to come back to see it in bloom. I was tempted to snap a piece off to force at home, but my conscience won out on that debate. And then I was happy to see these reminders of Long Island gardens and the beach:
And, of course, my squirrel friends were out and about. I often talk about how aggressive and crazy the Michigan squirrels are, and today was no different. This fellow stayed put as I walked right up and snapped three shots. I was sure he would jump on my back as I walked away.
And last but not least:
How great is this entry? A white shag/feather wreath — I'm not sure if it's a holdover from the December, or a spring wreath — but either way, I love it, along with the colors and great house numbers. So, my walk did in fact turn into a long one and I saw many welcome signs of spring — hurray!
… for a new calendar! I'm very picky about calendars and this year I just couldn't find the right one for tooo long. And then, I found paper + twine on Etsy through poppytalk. I don't know if it was the rock bottom sale price or the lovely delicate drawings or the superb styling in her photos that got me first, but I love this store. I ordered the gocco printed 2009 calendar ON SALE HERE NOW and it has arrived. It is even more charming in person (can a calendar be "in person?" In my world, yes.) So petite and the ribbon is just right.
Here it is 1:15pm and I'm still in my pjs. How did this happen, I find myself asking once again?!? Here is a recreation to the best of my ability:
7:30 AM — Crawl out of bed
7:32 AM — Brush teeth, wash face
7:35 AM — Make coffee
7:40 AM — Sit down at computer
7:44 AM — See that Etsy treasury is almost open
7:44.05 AM — Search for lovely peacock items
7:55 AM — Coffee refill
8:40 AM — Nab treasury
8:43 AM — Finish filling in items for treasury
8:46 AM — More coffee
8:47 AM — Clicking through treasuries, post to forum, etc
9:00 AM — Start printing new prints on fabulous new Epson R2880 printer
9:17 AM — Begin swearing profusely after ridiculous numbers of paper jams resulting in not one print
9:40 AM — More coffee9:50 AM — Still swearing; add pounding fist on desk to temper tantrum, still no prints
10:01 AM — Break down and call support (I never do this. This is bad sign.)
10:48 AM — Hang up with support with newfound knowledge that properly feeding paper into new printer is slowly honed skill only mastered by Epson employees after years of training. Surprisingly calmed by this bit of info.
11:01 AM — Brew more coffee. East some toast with PB.
11:15 AM — Feebly continue printing away
12:05 AM — Gather fresh prints on dining table and admire glowingly with coffee in hand
12:08 AM — Bust out new frames to reshoot new prints for Etsy shop
12:55 AM — Upload new photos
1:00 PM — Wonder where the morning went?!?!
I haven't even gotten to item two on my list of things to do today. I think it's time for more coffee…
Yes, those are all staples. And at one time each one secured a flyer of some sort: bands, garage sales, lectures, etc. Gotta love a college time with so much activity! I know I do. Here's to Ann Arbor and the University of Michigan.
I haven't written about much cooking activity lately — mostly because I have been sticking to tried and true recipes in the recent weeks and not branching out into new territories. It's been a busy time and I've gone for the routine rather than new out of convenience, surely not for lack of enthusiasm. As always, I have a stack of glossy mags lurking on the coffee table with too many pages turned down and recipes marked just waiting for me to try. As an incentive and an easy reference I decided I would make a small-ish list of recipes toward the top of my "try this soon" list:
• Tandoori Chicken, Dal Makhani and Naan (Saveur, May 2007) • Wasabi Flank Steak and Miso-Glazed Potatoes (Food & Wine, March)
• Sake-steamed Halibut with Ginger and Cabbage (Food & Wine, March)• Monte Cubano Sandwiches (Gourmet, March)
• The WHOLE Korean feast layed out in Gourmet this month, but most especially: Soy-pickled jalapenos, cucumber-apple pickle, short rib and vegetable stew, Korean-style Romaine, warm tofu with spicy garlic sauce, sauteed oyster mushrooms, brown rice & barley (and then some!! Yum!) (Gourmet, March)
• Glazed Chicken with Porcini and Crisp Potatoes and Creamed Broccoli with Parmesan (Gourmet, March)
• Beef Tenderloin with Aromatic Thai Spices (really interesting technique simmering steaks in water in a plastic bag) (Food & Wine, April)
• Garlic-rubbed Pork Shoulder with Spring Vegetables (Food & Wine, April)
• Lamb Pita Pockets with Tomato-ginger Compote (Food & Wine, April)
• Grilled Merguez Sandwiches with Caramelized Red Onions (Food & Wine, April)
• Warm Spaghetti Squash Salad (Food & Wine, March)• Farro with Green Onion Sauce, Toasted Walnuts & Asparagus (Super Natural Cooking, by Heidi Swanson)
• Otsu (Super Natural Cooking, by Heidi Swanson)
• Gnocchi alla Romana (Super Natural Cooking, by Heidi Swanson)
• Fettucine with Spring Asparagus Puree (Super Natural Cooking, by Heidi Swanson)• Stir-fried Bean Sprouts (Saveur, April 2007)
• Green Goddess Dressing (Saveur, May 2007)
• Ginger Shandy (Food & Wine, March AND an old Saveur I was flipping through today from 2007. Definitely calling my name for spring)
• Molasses-Gingerbread Cake with Mascarpone Cream (Food & Wine, April)There. That's the most pressing of the recipes, I think. (Ask me tomorrow, of course, and I would compile a wholly different list, right?!) I'll keep you posted on my progress through the list.
A lovely, lovely package arrived by post yesterday — WAY ahead of schedule. How tempting does this look? Not one, but two gift-wrapped items. What could they be? Well… the boy and I fell head over heels for these guys made by the incredibly talented Pam of Yoborobo.
Wesley and Chet
Ketchup. Heinz 51. The all-American condiment. Found in every American home.
• dry mustard — check
• cider vinegar — check
• yellow mustard — a staple for some, but we didn't have any. Better pick that up.*
• cayenne — running low, better pick up some more
• brown sugar — again, running low. buy more.
Note the asterisk. This is important.
I made my trip to the store, hurried home and prepared my dry rub. Slathered it all over that pork shoulder. Put that pork shoulder in a roasting pan and got it roasting. Sat back and relaxed, it was the weekend after all and the pork would be porkolating for six hours. Plenty of time. The afternoon was whiled away, enjoying some sun and a couple of beers in preparation for barbecue supper. With one hour of cooking to go, I moseyed into the kitchen to whip up the sauce. It's easy. Here's the recipe:Cider Vinegar Barbecue Sauce:
- 1 1/2 cups cider vinegar
- 1 cup yellow or brown mustard
- 1/2 cup ketchup
- 1/3 cup packed brown sugar
- 2 garlic cloves, smashed
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1 teaspoon cayenne
- 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
To make the barbecue sauce: combine the vinegar, mustard, ketchup, brown sugar, garlic, salt, cayenne, and black pepper in a saucepan over medium heat. Simmer gently, stirring, for 10 minutes until the sugar dissolves.
I began to combine away: in went the vinegar, then some mustard… but wait… no… it can't be… heavens to Murgatroyd! We had no ketchup. WE HAD NO KETCHUP. I shoved around all those condiment bottles that live on the refrigerator door, making quite a racket: pickles, chili-garlic paste, olives, sweet relish, dijon, grainy mustard, green curry paste, horseradish, capers, black bean-chili sauce, maple syrup, assorted jams, Hellman's AND Miracle Whip (that's a-whole-nother condiment story altogether).
We have lived in this apartment for six months and had no ketchup. We cook a lot. We eat at home a lot. I mean, A LOT. And yet, somehow, some way, we've gone six months without ketchup. No yellow mustard? Okay, understandable. I don't really like it anyway. But no ketchup seemed impossible. I hurried to the computer to see what it would take to whip up my own ketchup. Time—that's what it would take. And we didn't have it. I had been in relaxing mode and now the pork was almost done. Running right alongside my panic and the boy's speedy dash to the store for said missing ingredient, I have to say I felt a little, well … yes, pride. There, I've said it. Is that just plain un-American?
Dreaming…
As promised, here is a small detail from a new piece I am finishing up and will be listing in my Etsy shop later this week. It's quite different from much of my other work and I am very excited about it. I may have an Illustration Friday post, too. We'll see. The theme is intricate… hmm…
KEEP CALM and CARRY ON
Sweet Quagmire, Sam's dog of fourteen years, passed this morning. We are missing him greatly.
Flying Frog
After my post with the giraffe on roller skates last week, I received several words of encouragement that I should work on some childrens' art. With that in mind, I post this. I'm thinking about working on an alphabet series. What do you think?
I've been working on this drawing and can't decide if I like the palette. I tend to go with much softer colors, but that is not what happened in this case. Looking back at the original sketch, I am trying to decide if I went in the right direction. I may save this version and then try again using a milder palette. Although looking at it so close to my banner, I am rather liking it… feel free to chime in!
I haven't posted to Illustration Friday in quite some time, but I really like this week's topic, "Breezy" — particularly since I am weathering a 14-degree day here in Ann Arbor. Thinking tropical thoughts…
What to do with all of those plastic bags piling up in the kitchen, under the sink, in the coat closet? A while back I decided I would knit them together into a tote bag. Clever me would be able to tote my groceries in a bag of grocery bags. I had just read through Mason-Dixon Knitting and was inspired by a rug made by looping together cotton potholder handles into one big ball of yarn. That would be fun, but at $5/bag of loops, the rug would cost $100. Not such a good deal. Hence the bag on the cheap: free in fact.
I became extreme — rinsing out the thin little produce bags, saving the bag from the carrots. We had damp, limp plastic bags draped over every available surface in the kitchen. Slipped over the utensil jar, hanging off the pot rack, propped up by the soap dispenser. I didn't pay close enough attention to the fact that in the book, the author had her children loop together the yarn. Hmm, I realize now that this was for a reason. IT'S DAMN TEDIOUS!
You flatten out each bag and then cut it into horizontal slices. these slices are then connected by slipknots forming a chain. The chain is then wound into a ball. Four months later, and I am stuck on this step. I spent several hours one evening hunched on the floor connecting the loops. By the end of this session, I could barely straighten my back and was cursing the plastic. (OK, so maybe next time I should sit with better posture. Whatever.)
We are still saving bags. the difference now is that I wad them up and shove them into a bigger bag — complete with water, mud, etc. still clinging to them. This makes my next session of chain-making even less appealing. But dammit, I want that bag. The boy had generously offered to help cut them up and loop them together while we watch movies at night, but who really wants to do that? Me reclining on the couch with a pair of scissors and a beer doesn't seem like a good idea, non?
But I did just check online and found a great-looking knitted plastic bag bag at DIY Network and they say to cut the bags in one long spiral from top to bottom and then just knot together with next. I may have to try this technique since it entails just one cut and knot per bag… hmmm, I'll keep you posted.
That is the name of a fantastic cookbook by Diana Henry that I received as a gift recently. It has many tasty-sounding Mediterranean, Middle Eastern and North African recipes, but I had yet to try any of them because they seemed to have so many exotic ingredients. However, I realized that this was mostly because each chapter starts with wonderful descriptions of various unusual ingredients and I had actually sat down and read all of these in depth, leaving me with the impression of all kinds of wonderful exotic places and tastes and smells. But I was determined this week to tackle something in there, and I went through the book and discovered that while there are some recipes with hard-to-find things like rose petals and orange flower water, there are plenty of approachable ones. I picked out a handful and started with Greek Herb Pilaf with Shrimp and Feta. It has a huge amount of herbs in it, so I was curious to see if they overwhelmed the dish — I am happy to say that they do not, but instead lend a unique and surprisingly mild flavor to the whole thing —not to mention the whole apartment smelled unbelievable.
This is only half the herbs, another equal portion is stirred into the cooked rice.
After some sauteeing, the rice is cooked with a towel-wrapped cover over it — I would assume to absorb the moisture.
This photo truly doesn't do it justice, but right as I finished we were interrupted by an unfortunate old dog having an accident incident. Poor dog. Yummy dinner. It's loaded with flavor, with lemon and olives and herbs and tomatoes and shrimp.
This is my Ed Emberley inspired drawing for the day. I don't know how many of you grew up with his books, but I recently found one of them from my childhood: Ed Emberley's Drawing Book of Animals. This was one of my favorites as a kid and I drew every single thing in it. It is based on using simple shapes—rectangles, circles, half-circles—to build up pictures. Looking through them makes me want to go out and buy all the other ones I never had. They are so clever and simple. Draw a black dot: Wow! You've drawn an ant. Draw a green dot. Wow! You've drawn a black ant wearing a green sweater. I really think this shaped my world—and what a charming world it is!
When I was in elementary school, I thought the lyrics to the Rolling Stones' Start Me Up were: "And you can call me rye!" (Actual lyrics: Don't make a grown man cry… close, non?) I guess I was destined for the kitchen… Anyway, in honor of my youthful ear, I will tell you about the rye bread I baked this past weekend. The recipe is from Baking with Julia. It had all kinds of weird steps including hanging the dough in slings (why didn't I take pictures of that?!?) and odd shaping techniques involving hospital corners: I should have known to venture no further at that one. (The book is great — I have had great success with recipes, but…) The loaves look pretty lovely and have a great texture, but just don't have a really nice strong rye taste. There's no doubting that it's rye, but it's a bit mild. I just did a search to find another recipe to try and found these lovely beauties over at pete bakes. That recipe will definitely be my next rye attempt.
As part of our Valentine celebration, the boy and I made homemade gnocchi. Quite an involved process, but so worth it. This meant that an elaborate dessert idea shared with me by a good friend was scrapped in favor of the humble cupcake. I used the same recipe my mom used when we were kids. It is from the very funny I Hate to Cook Book by Peg Bracken. I'm pretty sure it may be the only recipe she ever used from there—many have things like frozen potato soup or frozen fish sticks as main ingredients. But the writing is hysterical and when I saw a copy in a used book store recently, I had to shell out the $1. It features terrifically charming drawings by Hilary Knight (of Eloise fame) and is a book "for those of us who want to fold our dishwater hands around a dry Martini instead of a wet flounder…" How could you not love it?!?!?
COCKEYED CAKE
• 1 1/2 c. sifted flour
• 3 Tb cocoa
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 1 c. sugar
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 5 Tb cooking oil
• 1 Tb vinegar
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 1 c. cold water
Put sifted flour back in sifter (or sieve), add cocoa, soda, sugar and salt and sift this right into a greased 9" square cake pan. Make three holes in the the dry mixture. Into one, pur the oil; onto the next, the vinegar; into the next, the vanilla. Now pour cold water over it all. You'll feel like you're making mud pies now, but beat it with a spoon until it's nearly smooth and you can't see the flour. Bake at 350º for half an hour. (For cupcakes: bake at 375º for 15-20 minutes.)
Maybe next time I will branch out and try Peg's Hootenholler Whiskey Cake!! (The first instruction: "First, take the whisky out of the cupboard, and have a small snort for medicinal purposes." I'm thinking Amy Sedaris is the reincarnation of Peg Bracken circa 1960.
painting by Joe Sorren
Part One
I was looking through the blog Artfulife this week and happily clicked through her link to Joe Sorren's web site. I really enjoyed seeing his latest paintings. They are so refined and quiet. I love the progression from his older work. I haven't looked at his paintings in a long time, but I was happily reminded of a conversation I haven't thought about in a long time.
Some time in the mid-90s I was given one of the best art school assignments ever. You had to give a presentation on one of your favorite illustrators. This may sound bland enough—a glorified book report—except that you had to contact the illustrator directly. This was way before the widespread use of email, so this meant calling the person up on the phone. I was painfully shy then, so I was horrified. But I loved Joe Sorren's paintings and knew that he was the one I had to call. I did. I called him up in Flagstaff, Arizona and he was the nicest, most encouraging fellow ever. I'm sure I asked all kinds of mundane things, but he heard me out and asked me thoughtful questions in return. He sent me samples by FedEx to include in my report and asked me to send him a few samples of my work. I have to smile when I think about it—I can't imagine what I sent.
The one question I remember asking him was: Do you think you have to live in NYC to make it as an illustrator? Now here I was calling a successful guy working out of a little hippy town in AZ—why would I ask that? Of course, he said no and gave me some very good reasons. I moved to NYC anyway and went to art school. I am now 3 1/2 years gone from there and am just now finding a place where I am able to make some art here and there — certainly not making a living from it, but still finding the time and inspiration to do it. I think there are a lot of factors involved that I may write about in this space (hence the part one subtitle above), but for now, I just wanted to reflect on a fond memory of a conversation with Joe Sorren and ponder what I might ask him nowadays.
The painting above was from one of the samples he sent — I found it in my "inspiration book" from that period. It is so much fun to look through it again after so long.
I have never seen a tree tapped for sap before other than in pictures. And this jug had some liquid in it, but quite thin murky-looking liquid that I thought was quite possibly rain water. (I was told later that this was, in fact, how sap looks straight from the tree.) Nonetheless, it made me chuckle and break out the camera that I often bring on walks, but that usually remains forgotten inside my pocket. Then down the block from the sap gatherers, I found this:
Hopscotch is surely a sign of spring. There were many more welcome signs around the neighborhood, despite the snow flurries in the air:
This house had a whole hedge of forsythia — I can't wait to come back to see it in bloom. I was tempted to snap a piece off to force at home, but my conscience won out on that debate. And then I was happy to see these reminders of Long Island gardens and the beach:
And, of course, my squirrel friends were out and about. I often talk about how aggressive and crazy the Michigan squirrels are, and today was no different. This fellow stayed put as I walked right up and snapped three shots. I was sure he would jump on my back as I walked away.
And last but not least:
How great is this entry? A white shag/feather wreath — I'm not sure if it's a holdover from the December, or a spring wreath — but either way, I love it, along with the colors and great house numbers. So, my walk did in fact turn into a long one and I saw many welcome signs of spring — hurray!
