As we traveled from Ireland to Scotland, England, Wales and back to the Emerald Isle, I took stock of local delicacies, sampling as many as possible:
Bangers and Mash, Irish Breakfast, Sticky Toffee Pudding, Tea Cakes at Harrods
Lots of things with ancient names, such as the drool-y Scottish whipped dessert, Cranachan, devised of whipped cream, fruit, oats and whiskey.
The Edinburgh celebration of Pork:
Despite making a cultural comeback, I left haggis hanging.
Haggis, Haggis, EVERYWHERE!!!
Also some universally mundane items wrapped in terms my Internal Irritation Drive obsesses over long after the fact.
To whit: The Chicken Goujon (goo-ZHON). Pronounced in Northern Irish (Gaelic for “Cuts Steel”) as “GEW-jdohn”.
Otherwise known as Chicken Fingers. Chicken Strips. Proving once and for all that the only word which properly describes long-cut bits of white-meat chicken--"strips"-- is the very one which makes it completely unappetizing. Is it hitting the pole for tips? Note to the NI delegates, Chicken Fingers is our contribution, so no prizes there...
I fully realise, and revel, in the plasticity and welcoming nature of English. My favorite number is 1066. Thus our language contains approximately 14,000 French-based words, which is why we have a word, Pig, for the squealy beast the lower-caste Saxons herded; and the word Pork (Porc), the culinary end product the upper-caste Normans delighted over. Lamb and Mutton (Mouton). Cow and Beef (Boeuf). Tomato, Tomate; Lavender-Honey Ice Cream, Glace à lavande et---
So rich and flavorful on the page and on the plate, and yet, I find my quantum of tolerance for the cheesy- or provincial-sounding to be inversely limited. Again, the Atlantic scale remains balanced, I did live in the south-east for three years:
“Oh hunny, thows ain’t cawk-rowchis, thows'r just paaawl-meeh-tow buuuugs!”
Splat.
Usually in a fit of pique, any two countries so closely related as America and the UK trade barbs over drawls and pretensions, but this one just--GAAAAHHH!!!--- flips my tick. So I clicked over to the Babelfish Translation website to find enlightenment, and reported to GingerMan.
Me: Ha! I went to Bablefish "Goujon". It means "stud"
GingerMan: Lol 'Chicken Stud' makes me think of a chicken dressed as The Fonz.
Eleven Years.Hmmm.This could be soupy and over-drawn.Long-winded or some other hyphenated blogerary travail.
September 11, 2001 was three days before the birthday I share with my younger sister.Four years apart to the hour. Yeah, we got our sh*t together.We were in our room getting ready for the day when our mom came in and mentioned that before we left the house we might want to turn on the TV.
Mistress of Understatement.
So what happened? A few unspeakably inhuman freaks committed an act of terror against the human race. It turned into some clownish 11-year ordeal which has brought seemingly little closure to many involved in the militant festivities.
What has happened:
Six weeks later, I met my husband, the Incomparable GingerMan. A year later, we were married in a beautiful ceremony in my grandmother’s garden, as would my sister a few years later, both while our grandmother was alive to share it with us.
I gained a family in Ireland, and got to travel to the UK for the first time in 2003 for my sister-in-law’s wedding. It was huge celebration and she was gorgeous and he was charming and handsome and nearly 10 years later, they still are, but also 3 beautiful children richer. I've traveled there 4 times and WOW you should see London at Christmas!
Through the machinations of fate, after a layoff three and a half years ago, I walked into a yarn shop the next day and introduced myself to the people who would become my family, my real community of friends. We are knit together in die-hard support, superficially by pretty string and deeply by Love.
Drawn by wool, I met the sister of my heart, the ineffable Jedi Jasmin, her husband Amazing Andrew and Vavoom Gigi (if you meet her, the Vavoom may be silent but always present). They have added Danger Mouse, my alarmingly precocious niece to the flock and we are a pretty big bunch at Christmas, I will tell you. And Thanksgiving. And Mother’s Day, Easter, Fourth of July...What I’m saying is, we cook, we eat, we’re Family.
Today, on September 11, two of my dearest girlfriends are bringing their second adopted daughter home from the hospital. I will leave the “adopted” here, because possession is nine-tenths of the law, and as one with an “mid-season replacement” mom, I will reliably inform you that Family is 90% mental.
So many new little people, people I’ve met, things GingerMan and I have done and places we’ve gone. Road trips to fiber events and late nights drinking and knitting in hotel rooms. But sometimes I still feel that existential angst. That voice that says pfftt, what have I done with my life, what’s happened?
Every week, I hang with older and younger friends and mention a song or a book and someone says “WHAT are you talking about??” And then I get to show them, play them a new song. Or be shown and be played to.
GM and I took a three week kick-ass holiday to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, London at the end of the Olympics and Belfast for our nephew’s second birthday. When I got home, Danger Mouse was crawling and cruising and looked like a different kid.
So many different things learned and seen every single day. Not having seen or done or tried means you have so many things left to do! Dr. Seuss was totally right.
Yes, cliché. And yes, I lose sight of that even while I’m sharing these things with other people, then I stop and go, quote:
WHOOOOOOAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!
Eleven years and more of Life. That’s what’s happening. TO MARY URQUHART: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY DEAR, DEMENTED, BELOVED SISTER. LOVE, YOUR WEIRDO. Pin It Now!
Once upon a time, on this date in 1973, a new ginger came to be. His father wanted to pass down the family name, making this boy about the hundredth William in the family, but his mum said stuffaroo to that and called him Robin Alexander, herein known as GingerMan.
Almost exactly two months later, I was born and given an exceedingly plain and yukky name and blame my wild and cantankerous nature squarely on they who stuck me with such a homely moniker. For this boy, from a tiny town called Ballymena, outside Belfast, Northern Ireland, would overcome the grayness and depression of The Troubles which plagued his land for so long and strike out for California, in the great free nation of America at the age of 27.
He took passage with the Evil Empire MS (tm), who, with promises of stock, riches, cheap drink and loose women, lured him from his tiny island home. There were those who derided him, certainly. Some said it could not be done, and he would return home and face dreary reality sooner than later, but he persevered. A stranger in a strange, sunny, palm-treed land, he bought a convertible, lowered the roof and drove to Half Moon Bay from the lower Bay Area without sunscreen or water, a closely death-defying feat if ever there was one.
He made friends and one night went to a halloween party where, due to the last-minute nature of his attendance, he managed to be wearing a women's-size nun's costume. I came upon him wrapped in black nylon, swilling ale and grinning like a mad ape. The poor bugger had obviously been given very bad advise by drunken cohorts or read the wrong tourist guide pamphlets when he landed on these shores or surely he would have made a better match, but marry we did and he has paid dearly for it every day since.
In some way I believe, against my rock-solid atheism, that some tiny, elegant force of nature changed his fate when his mother stood fast on his name--he became a man with more inner strength and integrity than any other five people I know combined. He has at times felt the heavy gray mantle of life's lesser ambition weigh him down, hasn't been able to see the virtues and abilities and brilliance others value in him. I'm not sure he sees the beauty of his twisted wit and twisted snarkiness, that he is smart AND intelligent, that he is kind AND gentle AND caring.
I on the other hand....
See the one who became GingerMan. The one who grew a shark fin and flaming red viking beard, the one who started believing in himself and walking taller. The one who very kindly keeps his zombie and horror flicks to himself.
And now we seem to have woken up and become39. Eleven years have snapped and compressed to the length of ten minutes and--and--and... Now We Are (Nearly) Forty, (Christopher) Robin! I mean it, we became. I remember birthdays: the pirate birthday I threw at a restaurant, with hats and goody bags (what is turning 37 for???), the Star Wars Birthday with the 3D printed table cloth with glasses to see it and all...Yet these things, these numbers just floated by, and here we are. 39. Thiiiiirteeeee Niiiiiiiine.
Now, seeing as how a good deal of our friends and family have long since crossed to the land of Fifty-ish, I can hear them wetting their pants with laughter, but kindly grant us license on this threshold. This intrepid Traveller, this inimitable, indomitable, perfect GingerMan is sure his liver is only good for another 20 minutes, and the revelry of this coming weekend should shave another ten off that, so we are feeling somewhat fragile, if not certain that Fifty, Sixty and Seventy are just another wake-up away and we have no time to waste.
No time at all to waste, my love. You are my Rock, my Light, my Viking-Pirate-Jedi-Knight adventure companion and I cherish every single minute we have together. Happy Birthday, Robin Alexander.
Marion Cunningham, the latter-day Fanny Farmer, has left the kitchen.
In an early post, I compared Joy to many other tomes of American culinary tradition, and may have found the Fanny Farmer (nèe The Boston Cooking School Cookbook) a bit less awesome in the deal. And yet, it is a fantastic book, full of rock-solid basics and a good format. So easy and comforting for a new cook, and a time-tested bible for veterans.
Just in time for Tomato Season, Plus Something Good for Olympic Viewing!
Marion met culinary legend James Beard in the 70's and eventually stepped in to freshen up the Fanny Farmer's stodgy, aspic-y personality, to bring home cooking into relevance for a new generation of working women and an increasingly no-longer "traditional" family life. Yet she felt her mission was to somehow lure us back to the family table, for just a moment, every day, to share life together. Every interview with her fairly vibrated with passion and dedication to this goal.
I meet people all the time for whom (like me) this was their first cookbook, often a wedding gift from mom or grandma. Some lucky ducks (with peanut stuffing, pg 262, Twelfth Edition, 1979) inherited the family's edition replete with generations of notes, additions and alterations. Here are my books:
Neither of my grandmothers left notes??? How am I sposed to know ANYTHING???
You may read one of the better memorials written here in the New York Times . All I can manage is to hope that, with our books propped open against the slow cooker and held open with the fruit bowl, we continue her mission to pause every day to show love and value and kindness in the feeding of friends and family. And maybe, if we're very lucky, to share this with one small percentage of the lives Marion Cunningham touched.
BTW, Revlon's new Colorstay Overtime Lengthening Mascara, is, as advertised on the tin, Flake-Proof, Smudge, and Tear Proof, as is now Fairy-tested.
Pin It Now!
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Change Your (Cruciferous) Fate!
I had been holding my breath for last weekend. Weeks and weeks for Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter, months for Brave. ALVH will wait for the next post as I still need to go lied down in a cool, dark place and practice calm breathing every time I think of that stinking mess of a celluloid disappointment. But Brave.....
A young Scottish princess seeks to change her fate, avoid an arranged marriage, forge her own destiny...
And does. With her mother. Not with a man. Not saved at the last minute by her big strong beau who’s won her over. NO last minute glorious wedding.
Familiar?
It begins with a mother instructing her teenage daughter in duty and protocol and ends in a beautiful friendship between two women that left me weeping several times through the film. Each character is a finely crafted personality, nothing is tritely cookie-cutter. Throughout literature and film, conflict is carried as close to the end as possible, each person wrapped in their own spite, sorrow, fear and anger until the last possible moment for redemption when 1) The hero saves the day, Boy and Girl revel in True Love and Disapproving Parent joyfully accepts newly repented children; or 2) The fate of the pained falls far beyond salvation and Lives are ruined, Loves lost and Lessons are learned, which tend to become the motivation driving the plot of Case 1.
Brave has lesson learned from the past, but also fallible personalities who can immediately regret their harsh words and rash actions, as real people do. The family is not perfect, the resolution not facile. It is dark and perilous and Merida is a breathtaking heroine, especially when paired with her mother.
As GingerMan posits, the true test of feminist strength in plotting comes when two female characters carry a story and do not focus on the romantic involvement of a Prince Charming or his necessity for resolution and salvation. Brave is all skirts, even the ones on the blokes, and in battle, all skirts are equal.
Another masterpiece from Disney-Pixar. Bring your kids and your tissues. Bring your honey and tissues, this is some seriously bad-ass animation! The texturing, lighting, movement of hair and fabric and facial expressions is exquisite. D-P are pushing the envelope ever further toward perfection and this movie is absolutely BREATHTAKING (have I said that enough?) in it’s beautifully rendered Scottish medieval backdrop.
What better to finish a great movie night than Broccoli Salad, V 1.0 (oh, and some pulled pork!)?
We begin at the beginning before getting fancy with all the variations mentioned in the last post, and I’ve only just realised that I forgot the onion. It is included in the recipe. I was in a state, is all I’m sayin’--Go see a woman become a Woman, Brave and True, then come home and snarf this down on a hot summer night!
BROCCOLI SALAD, V. 1.0
PREP TIME: 30 MINS
COOK TIME: BROCCOLI- 3 MINS / BACON 5-7 MINS
CHILL TIME: 15+ MINS
SALAD:
1 Med Head Broccoli: Pare down to bite-size florets, then skin the stem and cut into bite-size pieces-you’ll be pleased when it’s cooked- it’s crunchy and sweet!
3+ Strips Bacon (Follow your porky-lovin’ heart)
1/4 C Yellow Raisins OR Brown Rasins OR Dried Cranberries
1/4 C Chopped Yellow OR Red Onion
DRESSING:
2/3 C Light Sour Cream
3T+ Sugar
1T White Wine Vinegar OR Apple Cider Vineagar
1/4 tsp Kosher Salt
Several Grates Fresh Nutmeg OR
1/8 tsp Ground Nutmeg
1/8 tsp Fresh Ground White Pepper
INSTRUCTIONS:
Blanch the Broccoli: A) Fill a large pot 2/3 full with water, set on the stove on highest heat and get to a near-boil; B) Set a colander in the sink and have a bowl of ice handy; C) When the pot comes to near-boil, turn down to medium, then pop the broccoli into the CALM, NOT BOILING WATER. Stand over it for 3 minutes, watching the color change. You're looking for an immediate brightening of color-3 minutes, that’s it. D) Remove pot from stove IMMEDIATELY AND DUMP BROCCOLI INTO COLANDER;
E) Run cold water over broccoli and toss in colander for a count of 20, turn off water, then dump the ice into the colander and gently mix the broccoli and ice then LEAVE IT TO COOL. Make sure you keep the broccoli in the colander so the water and ice all drain away, preventing water-logging. The point of blanching is to take the raw edge off veggies and convert a bit of their starch to sugar, giving them a lovely bit of sweetness and softening them just a TINY bit. They should be bright green and very crisp, but the florets will have lost the characteristic rubberiness of their raw state and the peeled stem will be a heavenly, crunchy sweet treat.
Cook the Bacon: I have often just dried out the same pot, cut the slices with scissors into the pot and cooked them up, then removed and drained. Technique is not crucial, but if you have an electric stove, you can leave the burner on, dry the pan real quick and get the bacon back on while you're dealing with the broccoli's ice stage. Mix the Dressing: Place all ingredients into a bowl and mix thoroughly. Taste for sweet/sour balance and correct for your preference. I like it sweet-tangy, your mileage may vary. WHY SOUR CREAM?? Most traditional recipes use mayonnaise or Miracle Whip, but when I was in a panic the last time, I subbed the sour cream and loved it, so my base-line is Clover Light Sour Cream. Mayo and The Whip will have their day in court, I assure you! Notes on variants: Apple Cider Vinegar will give it a bit more fruitiness; Dried Fruits can be mixed and matched to great effect; and black pepper can be substituted just as well, but use less as it is more pungent and somewhat more acrid (that is a positive attribute in pepper, remember).
SPECIAL NOTE: Fresh Nutmeg is not a mystical device, you can find them in many markets, at Penzeys shops or at Penzeys.com. They seem a bit pricey, but you get HUGE flavor from a few grates and in a ziploc or tupperware container they will literally last until the end of eternity. You will get your money’s worth and all it takes is a microplane grater or a fine-grade rasp from the hardware store. Nutmeg is bitchin’ on all dark greens: kale, spinach, broccoli, chard, etc. as well as anything Indian and all baking applications.
MIX IT ALL UP!!!! Just toss all the stuff into a large bowl and add the dressing, then gently turn over and over with a spoon to cover. Voy-OLA!!!
SERVE: With a generous side of Pulled Pork from your crock pot with any of Guy Fieri’s kick-ass BBQ sauces (you'll probably find them in your supermarket, but this is a shopping link as well,) on a toasted brioche bun.
Be Bold, Be Beautiful, and most of all Be Brave, in your kitchen and your life. In the words of Ben & Jerry’s founder Ben Cohen, there are very few irredeemable mistakes, so start experimenting and change your Fate!
**Seriously, All photos property of Joy of Cooking Fairy or Disney-Pixar, You know what's-what and Who's Who, play fair and be good, Munchkins.
The other day I cleaned off my counter a bit. I already have more counter space than any girl should have a right to expect in life, but I get...cluttered feeling. Plus, I need inspiration. So the cookbooks that had become wedged into a corner behind the letter box and the crockpot came out of hiding, some went upstairs to be wedged into the bookshelves and some became the newly displayed on Grandma's book table:
BTW, a brief aside: Allow me to introduce you to the Food Lover's Companion.
A brilliant piece of gastronomic quick-reference, it's a dictionary--an encyclopedia, nearly--of food terms and ingredients concisely defined and elucidated. All entries contain phonetic spelling, Foreign-language terms are translated and referenced back. Your romantic dinner menu for a new flame calls for Ostrica?
"Ostrica [oh-STREE-kah] Italian for Oyster."
The entry for Oyster being on the next page and beginning with reference to Jonathan Swift's appraisal of the first consumer thereof. The Companion is a treasure. This is no book for the Higher Gastronome, this is a pocket book for the people, demystifying and delineating. I use it at work constantly and The Companion saves my bacon every time.
Oh, really, Who am I kidding...It wasn't just a Spring Cleaning, I am Deferring.
I am Disturbed. Deeply Disturbed.
Joy has failed me.
No, Really. Broccoli Salad has brought The Book low.
The Scene: Last week I sat in my nail salon (Strawberry Nails in San Jose for those on home turf, treat yerownself if possible), where they air Food Network allllll day long. The Entrèe basket on Chopped included Catfish, and I became obsessed with frying dinner that night. So I cruised through Lunardi's on my way home, grabbing some Cod (check Monterey Bay Aquarium's Seafood Watch App for great recommendations on sustainable fish available in your area) and corn meal. I remembered I had broccoli so I popped some raisins into the baskets too. Southern peeps, you see my fever here.
Let me state here for all eternity the Most Sacred and Holy Writ of Broccoli Salad: It shall contain, No More, and No Less than blanched Broccoli, Raisins, Bacon, Red Onion and Dressing.
I thought.
I get home, bouncing around the kitchen, setting up my fry station, fish station, heating the oven for the biscuits, then starting on the Broccoli Salad so it would have the requisite bedding-down time in the fridge. I know, like I know the feeling of hand-knit socks on my feet, egg-zackly what this is supposed to be. Each part, and the whole.
I thought.
But I'm sketchy on the dressing. So I swing over to the book rack and flip through the Joy (2006, 75th anniversary edition), straight to Broccoli.
-Cheese Casserole
-deep-fried
-freezing
and five more of the like. No salad. Check Salad; No Broccoli. Pardon, WHAT? Vegetable salads, yes--Tomato, Cucumber and Waldorf. Period.
Back to the 1975 edition-- Broccoli's Record in the age of Disco? Three, count 'em three entries: "Creamed, quick; deep-fried; timbale". Salad includes "Cheese Ring"(bleurrrghhhh), but no cruciferous members.
Foxtrot back to the 1953 blue Joy. Hooray! Broccoli swingin' in the Salads! "Cooked Broccoli; Raw Broccoli Stem Salad"! Which basically consist of broccoli, in French dressing (the popularity of which between 1935 and 1965 is astounding in itself), served on a lettuce leaf.
WHATDAHECKPEOPLE!!!!!
So my lovely little blog post on yummy Southern Dinner night turned into OCD Days, heavy on the Obsession Sauce:
I went through Julia, Bon Appetit, America's Test Kitchen, two editions of Fannie Farmer and Better Homes and Gardens. Then I went deep, to the cookbooks inherited from grandparents who would have long-hurdled 100 by now, to the odd-ball stuff like The Prudence Penny, the California Regional Cookbook, The Household Searchlight, TheWaldorf Astoria Hotel Cookbook, The White House Cookbook; pamphlets and hand-written notes on backs of envelopes; digging into a mayonnaise-and-canned-tuna-aspic laden first half of the twentieth century which should, for the most part, remain hidden.
Three winners emerged: The Betty Crocker Cookbook, 10th ed. 2006 ( one entry- "Broccoli Sunshine Salad", pg 384); the California Cookbook, Third Edition 1949 ("Raw Broccoli Salad", pg 8); and the Grand Prize winner, with FOUR recipes, the Sisters In the Kitchen Cookbook, 2007 (pp 67-68), from my sister's church in Kansas.
Now, to give you some small background on my madness (oh reaaaalllly,you say?), at some point you will find I have had to return to university to obtain a degree in Food History solely to publish a Thesis on Potato Salad as Social and Historical Adhesive and Accelerant. Meaning, I've been chewing over this idea for years that the complexity of the world of Potato Salad holds vast insight into the inner workings of social order, family structure, group migration and personal identity. The variants of Potato Salad are infinite and someday I will invite you into this world.
What I did NOT expect the other night, when I innocently set about my down-home dinner fixin' was to discover: A) Broccoli Salad seems to be a quite recent invention; B) It's permutations and social divisions appear to be in some sort of proto-Potato Salad state with regard to ingredients and dressings--Mayo vs. Miracle Whip, anyone??
What a mess. And it's fascinating.
I've been sitting here for days under piles of books, researching the internet for recipe variants and it's like watching a colony of Sea Monkeys suddenly start to ACTUALLY evolve.
And so far, no fun cook-along recipe and lovely photos for you from the other day. I tried a couple of dressings off the internet--one which shall remain un-referenced as it called for a HUGE amount of mayonnaise, a bit of balsamic and a small amount of sugar. It tasted like the inside of a rancid Mayo bottle. So I found a couple more and improvised. By the time I got the dressing together I was in a dead run to finish cooking dinner:
Sorry for the quality of the photo, but I only realized at the last minute I had no snaps to prove any of this happened. The fish was not, in fact, plated by a Wolverine, I had only just forked it's crunchity flakiness when I grabbed my iPhone.
So, a delicious result, but a great deal of work ahead. Hopefully by the end you'll love broccoli and begin to feel the wonder of how Cooking is a Living Art. If you have a recipe for Broccoli or Broccoli-Cauliflower salad, please feel free to share, with full attribution for your genius, and maybe some info on who you got the recipe from, where you're from, how long you've been making it, etc. Like I said, this is what makes Cooking Alive. Join Me?
This morning marked an historic occasion, for which we should Give Thanks, Pause to Reflect, Take Action, and Have Cake.
We were greeted by the news that President Obama has stated his belief in marriage equality.
He considered his friends, his colleagues and staff, the parent's of his children's friends...and his children. Do they see these same-sex couples as different and undeserving of total equality?
No.
Former British Prime Minister, Tony Blair, once he left office, fulfilled a long-standing promise to his wife to join the Catholic church. Very soon after, he was vigorously questioned as to how he could have championed legalizing gay marriage in the UK when it went against the very strongest moral tenets of his faith. His reply:
"It's what was right for the nation."
So Obama is charging ahead for equality, in the face of North Carolina's Amendment 1 passage, the now-constant assault on women's equal rights to access healthcare and reproductive services, and the long-standing barrage of Tea-Party/Right-Wing/Name-Calling. Dunno about you, I feel simultaneously wound to the hilt and worn the f*&k out people.
GingerMan and I donate to the Democratic party and PBS as a family. I donate to Planned Parenthood and Girl Scouts, and used to give to Susan G. Koman, until it surfaced with solid evidence that The Pink Ribbon had Consorted with Evil. Until they show solid evidence of true directorial reformation, those funds are now redirected to Planned Parenthood, where they are again applied to a panoply of women's health checks and preventative care initiatives, free of politics.
But the phone calls...Ohhhhh the phone calls.
And the emails. I get five or six a day just from Obama for America, then one or two from Courage Campaign, a couple from Credo, who support PP, and on and on.....every day.
As I said last week, I really had to take stock and cut out most of the news in print and on TV. The depression was overtaking me and the pleas for petition signing and letter writing and just that one more little donation of 5 bucks....
That was me: my mental capacity to deal and formulate the most cogent plan of attack; to streamline and focus attention and support, both moral and financial; was collapsing into useless ellipses.
So as I sat to write this, I decided. Fixed donations, select recipients.
A contribution to Courage Campaign. I have supported them before, but I never before believed in sending money or manpower to other states to change their elections until the dilemma hit home. I had a very religious friend who made it clearly known that they donated money to their church for the training of campaign workers sent here to California from their home state in the midwest to promote Prop 8, the Anti-Marriage Equality law.
As well as contributing to pro-Prop 8 advertising campaigns, funds went to the campaigns of elected officials IN MY STATE, NOT THEIRS, supportive of Prop 8 and ultra-conservatism in general. We haven't spoken since. Now it's a Civil Rights Issue, NOT a State's Rights argument. They are no longer allowed to run and hide behind the good ol' Tenth when they come crawling out to infest the rest of us with their odious hatred when they think the coast is clear.
Also, I'll still support Planned Parenthood and Girl Scouts, with a huge-whoppin' cookie buyout every spring. Scouts, that is, PP don't do a range of cookies, but they sure deserve some.
There are so, so many issues pulling us from so many directions--home, work, family, and all the political and social struggles that overlap-- I know I'm not the only one feeling stuck in Moral Molasses.
We have Pagan Coming Out day, National Coming Out Day, and today is the President's Coming Out Day.So I declare this next week National Giving Out Week. It's breaking things down into smaller bites. You may be a family of two Mums with a small child and four aging parents. You've got a lot on your plate just keeping up every day, and money can be tight.
Step One: Ask fundraisers to take you off their phone lists. I know it sounds obvious, but when it's the Democratic party, it seems a little harder to turn down the Home Team.
Step Two: If you get a million emails from organizations you've donated to or signed petitions for once or twice in the past, deep breath--unsubscribe. You can "Like" most of them on Facebook if you really want to keep track of them, but otherwise, just let yourself have some headspace, and inbox space, back.
Step Three: Then pick two or three organizations, set up contributions and be done.
Some things, like PBS or Courage Campaign will do a small monthly amount you only have to set up once. Anything else that comes in the mail, set it on fir--I mean, promptly recycle.
And that's it. Really. The rest of it comes down to our own grass-rooting--what we talk about in Knitting Group, at parties, what we post on Facebook and Twitter and Google-Spaghetti-O's. We may not feel it's a lot, but we have just made ourselves Drops in the proverbial Bucket. Check your FB Friend's List--that's a whole lot of Drops--come join the Shower!
SUPER PARTY SNACK TIME!!!
And what's a party without cake? Well, we're talking about doing good, so it's actually a super-healthy Banana Bread which anyone I have ever put it in front of has snarfed like Chocolate Gateau.
This is my amalgamation of a few very healthy Banana Bread recipes, and it turns out my favorite Baked Good is Secretly Packing Nutritional Heat. TOP PRO TIP: Slice this up and wrap separately, makes a great lunch bag snack or on-the-go breakfast!
BANANA BREAD
PREP: 15 MINS
BAKE: 40-45 MINS
PREHEAT OVEN: 325F
INGREDIENTS:
-1/3 C Canola Oil
-2 Large Eggs. Some Recipes split the eggs into whites and a yolk or accept egg-substitute, and it's possible, but I don't like to.
-1/4 C Sour Cream or Yogurt: Using low-fat sour cream is a great idea, as it does nothing to the taste or moisture of the bread. I have used plain 2% Yogurt and it was okay. >>Graduate Level: I'm planning to try Greek Style Yogurt in either 2% or Fat Free next, as they both have a very rich texture. Go for it, I'm saying.
-1C Ripe Bananas. We're talking way, way, way brown. Like they look like UPS delivery guys. Like they look nearly bad. Trust me, they'll be MAGIC.
-1tsp Vanilla+ 1tsp Almond Extract. You can skip the Almond Extract, most recipes call for just Vanilla.
-*1.5 C White or Whole-Wheat Pastry Flour. Purely up to taste and aesthetic.
-*2/3C Sugar. Use White or Brown, again, to preference. I haven't used Agave or Stevia yet!
-1.5 tsp. Baking POWDER.
-1/2 tsp. Baking SODA.
-1 tsp. Cinnamon. OR 1 tsp. Penzeys Cake Spice. (i <3 it.)
-1/4 tsp. Salt.
ADD INS:
-4Tbs. Flaxmeal (ground Flax Seed).
-1/2C Chopped Walnuts.
-1/2C Chocolate Chips OR the darkest, highest % cacao chocolate you can find, chunked up.
A WORD ABOUT FLOURS:
My attempts thus far have yielded the following:
White Pastry Flour: Very cake-like product, especially when using white sugar as well, much like a store-bought bakery item.
Whole-Wheat Pastry Flour: A little firmer, still tender due to being pastry flour (it has low levels of weak-gluten protein content compared to All-Purpose or Whole Wheat).
Whole Wheat Flour: Okay, wait--what was that mambo 'bout weak glutes?
Wheat Flours contain gluten, which we hear a LOT about these days, but basically it makes a big sticky protein-y net when you add liquid to flour and make any kind of dough. Different kinds of wheat have different kinds of proteins and are sometimes processed more (or less) to achieve different uses--e.g. bread flour, cake flour, all purpose, etc. (On Food and Cooking, Harold McGee)
The JoC explains further that these differences in types of wheat and proteins affect the amount of moisture the flour can absorb. So in most cases, we want to stick right to the recommended flour for the recipe as all the other variables have been accounted for.
Think of it like knitting a scarf: Cake-flour cake is like lace, Pastry-flour goods are like a cashmere scarf. Whole-Wheat regular flour used in their stead will usually produce something akin to the Woolen Breastplate of Boudicca sweater your Great Auntie knit you for Christmas.
However, in this very specific case, I've started playing round with all these variables. You see I've toyed with the dairy. I'm eyeing the Sugar with Intent to Tweak. But I started with the Flour, and I have to say, switching all the way to Whole Wheat has produced a very firm, but tender bread.
SNEAK PREVIEW! WHOLE WHEAT STYLE! CHOCO-CHIPS!
Definitely more bread than fluffy cake, and I feel there's even more nuttiness to it. Start with the basic, then branch out.
As for the Add-Ins, they're all to taste, but I really do recommend the Flaxmeal, on two counts: Again, it gives a lovely nutty flavor without nuts, and it ups the fiber and omega goodness. Nature's Broom and all...
INSTRUCTIONS:
1.Lightly oil the bread pan.
2. Beat- Oil, Eggs, Sour Cream, Banana and Vanilla in stand mixer or by hand mixer until creamy. It'll look like Banana pudding. Already Good.
3. Mix-Flour, Sugar, Baking Powder, Baking Soda, Salt, Cinnamon in a separate bowl.
4. Start Mixer, Add Dry Ingredients to Wet. Slowly, in a couple of stages. Mix until just combined.
5. Add-Ins. Stir in gently, just to combine. Let it be cool and groovy, baby.
6. Spoon into Pan, Pop into Oven.
7. Check at 40 Minutes, Skewer/ Toothpick/ Slim Knife should come out clean when poked in.
8. Let sit in pan on cooling rack for 5 minutes.
9. Turn out on cooling rack, let sit for 10 minutes.
