Upside Down

Is this not the happiest looking bag you’ve ever seen?

 

But of course it is. Clearly, I decided to add the buttons. I think it was a wise decision.

Do you know what else makes me very happy these days? Besides, of course, the fact that I’m engaged (sorry, I had to throw that in there—it hasn’t gotten old yet)! Cake.

Here’s the weird thing—I really don’t think of myself as a cake person. I’m always preaching about how ice cream is my number one dessert of choice. But take a look at the lovelies that I’ve consumed at various restaurants in the past week or so:

 

And that doesn’t even include the chocolate cake that Kyle and I fed each other on Saturday night.

Clearly, I have a particular fondness for any cake whose description includes the words ‘warm’ and ‘chocolate,’ thus the first two cakes from Bistro du Midi and Rialto. That misfit is sticky toffee pudding from Hamersley’s Bistro, one of few alternatives that can tear me away from chocolate (and no, I don’t normally eat out this much!)

Upon further reflection, I think the issue isn’t so much the cake itself, but the way that most cakes come: as big old honking rounds that you have to slice into and eat as much as possible of lest they go bad. 

(OK, this was a particularly horrendous example that I came across a couple of weeks ago at a super divey diner in New Jersey, but still…)

But give me an individually-sized cake, warm and fresh from the oven—and accompanied by a side of something cool and creamy—and I’m a happy gal.

Another one of my non-chocolate favorites has always been pineapple upside down cake. Baking a cake upside down makes it different in a good way—and since my life has recently been turned upside down, also in a good way, I declared this past week Upside Down Cake Week. The best part is, I used my beloved 2 cup Mario Batali pan to make individually sized cakes which we could eat in one go—therefore enabling me to make a whole new kind of cake the next night, guilt-free!

 

 In order: the classic pineapple upside down cake, banana chocolate chip upside down cake, and strawberry peanut butter upside down cake. The accompaniments, in order: pineapple fool (yes, fool is back!), my homemade banana chocolate ice cream, and Edy’s strawberry ice cream—I may have come to terms with my love of cake, but I still can’t forgo the creamy accompaniment.

The best part of upside down cakes is, of course, the layer of fruit, butter, and brown sugar that caramelizes beautifully while the cake cooks, and ultimately ends up on top once you’ve flipped the cake out of the pan. I used the same basic recipe for all three of these cakes, but tweaked it a tiny bit each time. And, naturally, I used whole wheat flour because you know more theory about whole grains negating caloric content…

Individual Upside Down Cakes

For the topping:

• 1 heaping tablespoon of brown sugar
• 1½ tablespoons melted butter
• Fruit of your choice:
  • 2 slices of pineapple
  • ½ banana, sliced
  • About 4 strawberries, sliced

For the cake

• 3 tablespoons of whole wheat flour
• 1 tablespoon and 1 teaspoon white sugar
• ¼ teaspoon baking powder
• 1/8 teaspoon of salt
• ½  small egg, lightly beaten
• 1 tablespoon butter
• 1 tablespoon whole milk
• Additions:
  • Pineapple: 1 tablespoon of pineapple juice
  • Banana: 1 heaping tablespoon semi-sweet chocolate chips
  • Strawberries: 1 tablespoon crunchy peanut butter (I melted the peanut butter in the milk before adding it to the flour mixture, and I left out the regular butter)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

For the topping, melt the butter in a small sauce pan over medium heat. Add the brown sugar and stir until it has dissolved slightly. Cover the bottom of a small dish with the butter/sugar mixture (my pans are about 4¾” in diameter), and lay the fruit on top.

Combine the flour, sugar, and salt. Add the egg, butter, and whole milk, and any ‘additions’ (pineapple juice, chocolate chips, etc.) and beat until just incorporated. Poor the cake batter over the fruit topping. Cook at 350 degrees for about 25 minutes or until the cake springs back slightly when touched.

Allow the cake to cool for about 3 minutes before flipping it right-side up.

Tomorrow my fiancé (sorry—last time!) and I are off to Portsmouth, New Hampshire, so we’ve decided to lay low tonight. He has some preliminary business school paperwork to get through, so I will gladly give him the couch and park myself in my new favorite spot. I’m calling it my stitching station:

 

For some reason, I’m spending lots of time on the floor these days—it’s good for spreading out all of my stuff and having a fellow carpet buddy makes Shuffle a very happy bunny. His new favorite pastime is removing the pins from my pincushion, one by one:

 

While Kyle is working, I’m planning on a marathon crochet session (yes, I just confessed to a Friday night of ‘marathon crocheting’)…

 

 …and methinks individual apple and almond upside down cakes are in order.

Even Better than Buttons

I woke up on Saturday morning to this:

 

Kyle told me they’d had an antique show near his work where he’d bought me buttons. I love antique buttons so I was pretty thrilled—what a wonderful way to start the day! I slowly sorted through them for about 5 minutes, all the while thinking to myself, ‘it’s the little things like this that make me want to spend the rest of my life with him.’

Then I saw the box.

 

And, of course, I said yes.

 

It’s really hard to write a blog post that manages to capture the feeling you have on the day you decide to spend the rest of your life with the man you love. Kyle and I have been together for nearly eight years, but nothing could prepare me for the moment when he kneeled down before me and I knew without a single doubt that this was exactly what I wanted for the rest of my life. I can’t even begin to describe the countless ways in which he makes me so incredibly happy–but from the mundane to the extraordinary, every moment we spend together feels special. I have just as much fun traveling to exotic places and eating fancy food with him as I do watching TV in our pajamas and chowing down on sandwiches.    

Speaking of which, we celebrated with a picnic lunch:

 

And a dinner at Bistro du Midi which, of course, was full of copious amounts of incredibly good champagne, food, and wine—but none of that matters as much as the incredibly good people who met up with us afterwards to celebrate the night away.

Sisters (real and spiritual), and good friends…

 

And our honorary best (and biggest) man Brecher, who along with my beloved sister Z, organized this night of utter shenanigans and merriment.

 

Let’s just say, we didn’t go home until the city started to shut down around us.

 

Waking up on Sunday morning was a slow and gradual process. Kyle and I said farewell to those who had spent the night on our sofa, then had a recovery breakfast of pancake truffles (adapted from Caitlin’s brilliant recipe—thank you!), served with maple syrup from a white elephant teapot that my mom recently gave me.

The rest of our Sunday was gloriously slow-paced and low key. After the whirlwind of excitement, it felt really good to engage in my usual, calming activities. I baked some bread (simple honey wheat hamburger buns):

And, of course, did some sewing—turns out, this is even more fun when you have a gorgeous diamond ring to admire while cutting and stitching (I always thought I wasn’t really into diamonds, but it turns out I’m more traditional than I thought—for the past 48 hours, I’ve been that girl who can’t stop holding out her hand to look at her engagement ring. I absolutely love it.)

Anyway, remember my idea of making a kickass patchwork bag out of my hand-dyed fabrics? I decided to model it off of one of my favorite totes which has a nice big slouchy shape and round base.

 

It went together surprisingly quickly:

 

I decided a brown base on the outside would be a nice contrast with the colorful patchwork, so I threw in a fun base on the inside instead:

 

I’m incredibly pleased with how it’s turned out but I don’t think it’s entirely done just yet. I went back and forth with the idea of adding buttons and I think I’m going to give it a go. In fact, some of those antique buttons match the fabrics beautifully—if that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.

Freak Flags and Fads

I like to crochet in unusual places. For instance, in my car when I’m stuck in bad traffic:

 

If I’m stuck at a really long red light, I’ll even weave in and trim the loose ends, thus my cup holder is actually full of scraps of yarn:

 

Last night, I knit in Noir bar while enjoying an LA Confidential (stoli peach, cointreau, peach nectar & champagne) and waiting for my dinner companion. Yes, I have no pride shame. But hey, we all have our freak flags­—it’s just that some of us wave them a little higher than others.

Fortunately, Welton arrived soon enough and we enjoyed a delicious dinner (not to mention inexpensive: Noir has to have the best happy hour deal in town with $5 flatbreads, $4 sandwiches, $3 salads, $2 snacks, $1 sweets, and free nuts!)

 

That glorious looking goo would be gruyere, spinach, and bacon dip. There are no words—and there wasn’t any left by the time we were through, either. I love eating with Welton because, like me, he has a hearty appetite. The only alarming thing about our dining together, however, is the mound of perfectly polished-off plates at the end of the meal.

For some reason, I was in the something uncharacteristically simple as my main course: a three-cheese pizza with spicy tomato sauce and caramelized onions. Of course, I dipped this baby in the gruyere goodness so it wasn’t really all that simple in the end:

 

It tasted just as good as it looks, and reminded me that I haven’t made my own pizza in quite some time…

Actually, I’m having a bit of a dilemma these days. I’ve been meaning to watch Food, Inc. for a while, but I’ve also been skeptical about this film since, like many young women, I’ve gotten caught up in diet fads in the past and it did me no good—I now try to avoid all that food hysteria and eat everything in moderation (most of the time…).

Anyway, on Wednesday night I took the plunge and squeezed in the first 15 minutes of this film before making dinner for some friends. So far, I’m sensing that the gist is this: be very careful about where your meat comes from. I respect that message, I really do. And I hope I can become a bit more conscious of it. I’m also really trying to be slightly vegetarian, especially when eating at home…but it’s hard! Gosh, I even contemplated buying turkey bacon for Wednesday night’s meal, but that lasted a whole two and a half seconds. Who am I kidding. What’s pasta carbonara without real, fatty, crispy bacon?

 

Some things you just can’t substitute. This was one good pasta, if I do say so myself, and I credit that to the fact that the sauce contained a good dollop of bacon fat (and plenty of butter). That being said, I’m an animal lover—believe it or not, I dream of the day when my house is full of giant pet bunnies and teacup pigs. I’ll never be a full-on vegetarian, but I’m going to suck it up, finish Food, Inc., and hopefully approach my meat consumption with a bit more awareness.

Meanwhile, bacon was actually buy one get one free at the grocery store so I have a whole lot in my fridge—I also happen to have plenty of cheese and a bag of spinach. Dare I attempt to make my own cheese-spinach-bacon dip?

My lovely dinner left me feeling rather energized so I went home, put on some elastic-wasted pants, and filled my sink with warm water and laundry detergent. My hand-dyed fabrics are now washed and hanging to dry, ready for my patchworking pleasure. Let’s admire them one last time (and ignore the blurry shot), shall we?

 

Other weekend plans include an Owl City concert and bike ride to Concord Center.

Sigh, life is good. This morning’s sing-along of choice: Cat Stevens. I listen to the wind, to the wind of my soul.

Tuesday Night Injenuity

The thing about working fulltime, even at a job you absolutely love, is that it sometimes feels like you have to save up the real quality you-time for the weekends. That’s not to say that I don’t thoroughly enjoy my weekday evenings. I wake up isanely early so I can leave the office by 4 and therefore have plenty of ‘real life’ time—I’m someone who needs a lot of this to feel like an actual human being. Still, by the time I get home, pack my lunch for the next day, kiss my bunny hello, empty the dishwasher, etc., it can sometimes feel like the evening flies by before I’ve had a chance to savor any real downtime. Often, the most I am able to accomplish is some knitting (or crocheting these days) and hand stitching.

This was case on Monday night. I squeezed in about an hour of work on my Kandinsky quilt before heading to Ole with Kyle for dinner. I mean, I’m not complaining. What’s better than a massive Monday night margarita and fresh guacamole?

 

Well, a couple of things. For one, the fact that Monday is taco day at Ole and you can choose from dozens of delectable flavors (the duck mole won by far):

 

And secondly, the fried plantains covered in cheese that I can’t help but order every single time we come here:

 

Good food and quality time with my good man: not a bad way to start of the week. But last night was marvelous in a very different way. Kyle was out of town so I decided to indulge in the type of activities that I generally reserve for weekends. I came home, put on the grungiest clothes I could find (sorry, Kyle!), sacrificed a few Tupperware containers to the cause, and within a couple of hours, had produced this:

 

Yes, I finally dyed my own fabric—and actually like love the results! I kept this very simple and used powdered dyes and a low-water immersion method and, as you can see, I stuck to solids for this go around. I have plenty more dye and plan on experimenting soon with marbling, but I have to admit I’m very into solids these days—having a simple, bold palette lets the design speak for itself.

I’ve discovered that there’s nothing quite like the high you get from dyeing your own yarn and fabric. It’s beyond gratifying. Having that type of ownership over the materials you use and being involved in every step of the creative process is very empowering.

The fabric is actually from old pillowcases so it’s  a very nice, soft, flannel. I’m imagining a kickass patchwork bag for the spring and summer. Like I said, there will be lots of fabric dyeing in my future (er, tonight?). In fact, I could barely stop myself last night and in my fabric dyeing frenzy, I even tore up a few more pillowcases:

 

But suddenly realized it was 7:30 and I was starving, having foregone my usual pre-dinner munchies (I decided that eating cheese and sweet potato chips while working with powdered dye would be a bad call). So I restrained myself from continuing, and instead whipped up a little pre-meal snack:

 

That would be my own (even tastier!) fried plantain. I’ve actually tried making these before using various different methods and ingredients, but I’ve discovered that this very sophisticated, complex technique is actually the best: melt a big old hunk of salted butter in a skillet and sauté away until the plantains are lightly browned on both sides. Yes, it’s that simple (I also recently learned that plantains aren’t truly ripe until they look all gross and black-skinned, and it’s worth waiting).

I enjoyed these with a side of sour cream, leftover guac, and feta cheese while I prepared my main course, a very different type of cuisine. I’m not one to give up and I just couldn’t let go of Saturday night’s mishap. Enter injera, round two:

 

Apparently, you can win them all—you just have to cheat 😉 This injera involved no fermenting, just the following simple ingredients:

• 1 cup whole grain teff flour
• ½ cup whole wheat flour
• ¾ tsp baking powder
• 1 tsp salt
• ¼ cup plain Greek yogurt
• 1 ¾ cup club soda

I did save some of the batter to act as a sourdough starter for my next batch which I suppose will be more ‘authentic’, but I have to say: this simplified version turned out absolutely fabulous. Just look at that moist, spongy goodness:

 

Injera, it turns out, is alarmingly easy to eat in absurd quantities. It just rolls and folds and squishes so nicely—which means one whole piece can be consumed in a single bite. In my defense, I wasn’t sure if injera would save well so I felt I might as well eat as much as possible—but I did manage to set aside three pieces for lunch the rest of the week so hopefully it does.

Don’t worry, I ate more than a plantain and bread for dinner. The rest of my meal included, big surprise, sweet potato, cheese, and eggs (and my homemade ice cream, naturally)—but who cares? Injera was definitely the star of this meal.

Gosh, I need more weekday nights like this. Turns out, I have more than enough time to feed my creative muse (and my belly). I just have to go for it. I’m quite simply in the best mood ever this morning. I even caught myself belting out Elton John lyrics at the top of my lungs on the drive to work. Hey, don’t judge; there’s a Tiny Dancer in all of us.