My Discovery
I just made a discovery that could possible change the rest of my life.
That discovery is this: HEB Brand Specialty Series Barbecue Sauce, Texas Edition tastes just like Rudy’s sauce, only better because it is thicker! (Take a moment to read that again and let it sink in.)
In this photo, you can see the thickness, evident by the pooling and not running-ness of the sauce. (Can you believe I teach English? Me either.) Notice also the big, black grinds of pepper and the glossy shine that will mirror the glaze in your eyes as you savor this pungent pool of heaven.
This is how I made my discovery:
Blocking Lace
Spent a few hours tonight blocking lace squares for a charity blanket. Time consuming, but instantly rewarding.
This blue is closest to the true color, a little over-lit, but the best I could do at 10:00 pm under not-so-bright bulbs in a ceiling fan.
Scallop Lace: Color is dulled, but the stitches are better defined.
Fern Lace
Does your iPod lose its charge on the bedpost overnight?*
*If you know that reference, you are really good.
My husband Eric, is pretty handy. He can build, paint, fix things, and just create, in general. This past weekend, though, I was truly impressed. He replaced the battery in my iPod Mini.
He bought the iPod for me as a gift. It is engraved. Plus, it is the last of the flash-drive iPods, and I really like it. But, the battery had quit charging. I read through the fixes at Apple, where they told me to find an album of average length, note the time run on it, fully charge the iPod, then play the album and do some kind of subtraction to determine how long the battery was lasting. Here’s how long mine lasted: long enough to plug in the headphones. Seconds after that, I get the message that the battery is low and it needs to be recharged.
I could have mailed in the iPod, and they would have replaced it with a refurbished iPod in which the battery had been changed. They couldn’t guarantee I would get the same color, but for an extra charge, they would engrave the ‘new’ one with the same text. All this for the low price of $59 for the battery and $189 for the service. Yipee.
After some online searching, I found ipodjuice.com. They offer a battery replacement kit for all generations of iPods, lots of technical support, and videos to walk you through it. They will also change the battery for you, for less than Apple charges. We opted for the kit which runs about $35. The battery, which boasts longer life (in milliamp hours, mAh) than the original stock Apple battery, came with all the tools and fantastic instructions. It was evident that they really want you to succeed with changing the battery.
Eric is very strong, but also can be delicate when working on things, so I knew he would be o.k. Even so, I was quite nervous throughout the process and had quite an adrenaline rush by the time he was finished. (I danced it out with music from my now functional iPod.) He started by discharging any static electricity he might have had, as per the instructions. (I would have quite here.) He then pried off the white plastic covers on either end, and afterwards removed these microscopic screws that hold the unit inside the case.
There are lots of warnings on the instructions about when to be careful to ‘not touch the Molex’. The Molex is some kind of conductive coating or rubber or something. The important thing is that disrupting it will render the click wheel inactive or make the headphone jack worthless.
I posted this picture to illustrate the size of the screws seen above.
Having removed all of the wires and screws, Eric next slid the main unit out of the chassis.
After the unit was out, it was pretty easy to remove the old battery and replace it with the new one. If you decide to try this yourself, I recommend taking pictures of the the orientation of the old battery and the wires that connect it (something I failed to do) because the extra length of wire (cable?) is hard to get situated back correctly.
Once the new battery was in place, he had to tape some parts down with special tape so that the unit would slide back into the chassis correctly. This part required both force and finesse, because it doesn’t slide easily but you don’t want to crack the display screen. He then replaced the screws, and popped back in the plastic pieces. It wouldn’t have hurt to have original orientation pictures of these pieces, either. One end is tricky to figure out the direction.
The battery comes partially charged, so after this, I turned it on, and it worked perfectly. There is one tiny nick we made while prying the sides open, but it is less noticeable than the ding on the edge it got when I dropped it while run/walking on the riverwalk in Bastrop. And if that is the only drawback, it was well worth the monetary savings. Plus I get to keep the original iPod that E bought for me.
I would recommend ipodjuice.com to anyone who is facing the dilemma of what to do when their iPod quits holding a charge. It was well worth the money, and their site has excellent support. Good luck.
The master at work.
A Good Thrifting
We had a good day at the thrift stores today. Well, I am cheating a bit — I hit one of the stores on Tuesday — lots of sweaters. Most of them I intend to unravel and respin, but I bought a few to felt and cut up as well. I also had fun posing the sweaters to photograph.
This sweater is from Les Copains; I believe it is from France because of the way the tag looked. It is 85% wool, 5% cashmere, 5% silk, and 5% angora. Even though he’s French,, this one is saying, “whaddup, G?”
This is Banana Republic, 82% wool, 10% cashmere, 8%angora. ”Heeeayy”
Beautfiul pink J. Crew, 100% lambswool. The sleeves are oddly long, though. I wonder what that’s about. “Me bought sweater for Jane.”
This was THE find of the day. John Ashford, 100% cashmere, double ply, in an absolutely stunning shade of crimson red. ”Would you like to dance?”
Gap, 100% wool. Nothing spectacular about this except the yarn is a good sturdy medium-weight. The taupe and eggplant colors did not show up well in the photo. I plan to unravel this one and ply it again, possibly with a cashmere. ”Care to go fro a pint after the Rugby match, mate?”
And this quartet from my secret shop. Clockwise from top, a cotton, striped Tommy, a pink cotton from Yarnworks, an Old Navy cotton and silk cabled shrug, and a wool, cashmere, and acrylic from Liz Claiborne, proving that even the big fashion houses still have problems with color pooling.
This one is John Ashford, 100% cashmere. ”Put your hands in the air, like you don’t care.”
Fiber Fest II – The 2008 Version
It would have been impossible to predict that 2008’s Fiber Fest at Hill Country Weavers could have been as windy as last year’s. It was uncanny. Again, we had to tie down tents and weight tables. Jennifer’s ingenious hat display lost a few coconut prongs. (She is making the cutest, squared off bucket hats that she calls The Breakfast Hat.) But with brightly knit scarves waving in the passers-by, this year was again a success.
Meiling Chang had some beautiful sweaters, as usual.
I had lots of hats and handspun yarn. Robin, of RobinCat and I shared a table. (below)
Stacy, of Silver Moon Studios had her amazingly cute project bags there.
Several local weavers brought rugs and wall hangings.
Dana, of ToughKnit, had cute little scarves and wrist warmers, all made from recycled apparel.
Below are hats in clockwise order, from Kathy at Platypus Dreams, Kortney Moon of Angry Olive, more hats by Pretty Purl, and lots of wet felted hats made by Mary McCauley.
And a good time was had by all!
Biscotti
Biscotti are quite possibly my favorite cookie to bake. If I’m cooking for myself, a simple chocolate chip or plain oatmeal cookie will suffice, but biscotti is the number one choice for socializing.
I nearly always bake some biscotti to tuck away into the Airstream before a trip. They can be packed up in tins, Tupperware, or even a Zip-Loc bag and still remain, for the most part, whole and intact.
The absolute best thing about biscotti, though, is their versatility. Depending on your guests or your mood, biscotti will go with almost anything. They are the perfect dipping cookie. And, because of their subtle, elemental flavors, and subtle sweetness, they can go into just about anything. It is perfectly acceptable to dunk biscotti in coffee, tea, milk, and even wine. Yea, cookies that go with wine!! Even Oreos can’t make that claim.
For the unfamiliar, biscotti are a twice-baked, oblong-shaped cookie from Italy. Biscottio, means twice cooked, and comes from the custom of baking cookie dough in long slabs, cutting it into thick, long cookies, and baking them again. After the second bake, they lose any excess moisture, making them nice and crunchy, and sturdy enough to travel or be shipped. Biscotti are in the same cookie family as Mandelbrot, the traditional Jewish cookie made with oilgt. Mandelbrot is typically filled with walnuts or almonds and flavored with a bit of cinnamon. Biscotti will call for hazelnuts or almonds, and is crispier than mandelbrot due to its second baking.
There are hundred of recipes for biscotti throughout Italy, but other than flavoring (biscotti can also be subtly-sweet or savory) they fall into two distinct categories: those made with butter and those made without butter or any shortening. The cookies made with butter have a more tender shortbread-like texture, while those without are drier, harder, and crunchier.
Double Chocolate Biscotti
adapted from Biscotti by Lou Seibert Pappas, Chronicle Books, 1992
2/3 c sliced or slivered almonds
½ c butter
¾ c sugar
2 eggs
2 tbsp Amaretto, Kahlua, or double-strength coffee
2 c plus 2 tbsp flour
1/3 c unsweetened cocoa
1 ½ tsp baking powder
¼ tsp salt
2/3 c semi-sweet chocolate chips
Place nuts in a shallow pan and toast over medium heat for about 10 minutes, or until you start to smell them. Keep stirring to prevent any hotspots. Let cool.
In a mixing bowl, cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in eggs and liqueur or coffee. In a bowl combine the flour, cocoa, baking powder, and salt. Using a sturdy spoon, add the creamed sugar, and mix until thoroughly blended. Fold in nuts and chocolate chips.
Divide dough in half. On a baking sheet that has been lined with parchment paper, pat out dough into two logs about ½ inch high, 1 ½ inches wide, and 14 inches long, spacing them at least 2 inches apart. Bake in the middle of a preheated 325° oven for 25 minutes. Remove from the oven. Gently lifting the parchment paper, transfer the logs onto a cooling rack. Let cool for 5 to 10 minutes. Place on a cutting board. With a serrated knife, or even better, an electric knife, slice diagonally on a 45 degree angle about ½ inch thick. Place the slices upright back on the baking sheet and return to the oven for 8 to 10 minutes. Let cool on a rack. Store in a tightly covered container.
P.S. While cutting the biscotti, you are likely to create a lot of crumbs. If you can resist the urge to lick them off the cutting board, save them in a Zip-Loc and store in the freezer. Use them to crumble on ice cream, top off some tiramisu, or sprinkle over oatmeal.
Peanut Butter Paisley Brownies
Over the course of the summer, which I define as June 1 through about September, and sometimes October, it rained a total of two times. Two times and one short, barley wet the pavement, sprinkle.
And then today the skies opened up with a gulley washer. Full-on, all day rain. Rainy days, especially chilly rainy days, make me want to bake. However, with the state of my kitchen, my baking is hindered. I was also craving chocolate, but had very little in the house. After a thorough search, all I could find was some Hershey’s chocolate syrup.
Undeterred, my mind already made up to bake, I had to find a way to satisfy my cravings. Digging through the Hershey’s website, I found a good starting place: Peanut Butter Paisley Brownies. Basically, they are marbled blondies with peanut butter and chocolate syrup. A good plan was in place, but I was still not certain; the recipe called for peanut butter chips. What to do? A quick jaunt to the convenience store depletes some of the cache of rainy day cooking, but I scored with 2 bags of regular M&Ms and 2 bags of peanut butter M&Ms, completely making up for the loss of points for venturing out.
They were easy to mix up, but I really thought the blondie/peanutty/brownie dough was far too sweet. Delaying a final decision until they had been baked, I kept going, folding in the M&Ms. I really thought I would just use one bag of each, but ended up dumping them all in.
I prepared my pan by lining it with 2 perpendicular sheets of parchment paper sprayed with cooking spray. This way, I would be able to pull out the whole pan of brownies in one graceful lift. The brownies cut easily and evenly with a pizza cutter, once out of the pan.
The sweetness was mediated by the chocolate syrup, and they turned out almost perfect. I might use just a tad less sugar next time. The ratio of granulated to brown sugar also made the brownies seem to dry out quickly, so next time I would probably reduce the amount of granulated sugar and use the recommended amount of brown sugar.
Recipe: adapted from Hersheys.com
Double Peanut Butter Paisley Brownies
½ c butter, softened
¼ c creamy peanut butter
1 c granulated sugar
1 c packed brown sugar
3 eggs
2 tsp vanilla extract
2 c all purpose flour
2 tsp baking powder
¼ tsp salt
2 snack size bags of peanut butter M&Ms
2 snack size bags of regular M&Ms
½ c Hershey’s Syrup
Heat oven to 350°F. Line a 13×9 inch pan with two criss-crossed sheets of parchment paper, then spray those with cooking spray.
Beat butter and peanut butter in a large bowl. Add sugar and brown sugar; beat well. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Blend in vanilla.
Stir together flour, baking powder, and salt; mix into peanut butter mixture, blending well. Stir in all the M&Ms. Spread half of batter into pan; spoon syrup over top. Top with remaining batter, and swirl with a knife for a marbled effect.
Bake 35 minutes or until lightly browned. Cool completely in pan on wire rack; then remove from the pan whole using the paper edges to hold onto. Cut into squares.
My stomach has churned all weekend, sick with worry and updates from Galveston. As a longtime former Galveston resident, married to a BOI, this storm was more personal than others.
I moved to Galveston in 1991, in order to check off “live at the beach” from my Life List. It was there I met my husband. Lived on my own. Made tons of friends. Found ‘my place’ in the world. During college, I walked on the beach every morning, went to class in the afternoon, worked at Yaga’s (then Landry’s, then Randall’s) in the evening, and drank Vodka Collins and shots of tequila at O’Malley’s and Vibes after work.
Nearly every street holds a memory, if not one of mine, one of thousands my husband has retold to me over the years. 33rd street is where we had our bookstore. Somewhere around 23rd and Post Office is where Eric proposed, on a Sunday morning during Mardi Gras. Ave S is where I bought my first house. I was flashed by a perv on 24th street. Went to my first Mardi Gras Parade on 25th and Ave L. I could go on and on.
While I know of one friend who stayed during Hurricane Ike, I know that there are many, many others who chose to test their luck this weekend. I feel as if I nursed Elaine through the hurricane. Convinced that it would not be bad, her house having made it through numerous hurricanes high and dry, she was not worried. She took my calls, early in the week and early on Friday trying to convince me that it wasn’t going to be as bad as they predicted on the news. Then when she called at around 11pm, her voice had changed. I could tell she was worried, if not scared. The water was rising up the porch stairs. It had never done this.
I pulled up NOAA while simultaneously flipping through all the news channels. (By the way, Geraldo is a horse’s ass.) They had been eating ice cream and popsicles since the electricity had gone out earlier in the evening, and the all-weather radio had indicated the possibility of Ike wobbling to the east towards Boliver. This would have been good; they would have then been on the dry side. But everything I could find reported that the eye was heading straight for them, right for the middle of town, pretty much on a direct route across 45th street.
The eye was 60, then 50, then 45 miles in diameter. This means that it was very big, and a wobble would not have changed the impact much at this point, and it also meant that it was intensifying. The reduction in diameter is comparable to the closing of a fist – a palm-open slap is much more tolerable than a fist. But, we still had communication.
Elaine began calling about every hour or so, on the land line in order to save the cell phone battery. “How high is the surge?” “Where is it now?” “How long until the eye hits?” The water was rising slowly; she lives on a historically and relatively high part of the island. All I could tell her was to hang in there. They moved their photos and pictures upstairs, but she stayed on the sofa on the first floor to monitor the water. She could see the water rising under the house, from an old furnace floor vent that they opened. It was high, but never actually came up through the old, oak flooring.
She was going to try to sleep. I dozed off with my phone on my nightstand at about 2:30. She called again at 4:00, this time in a panic. The eye had come ashore at around 1:30, and they waited for an interminable 2 hours in a complete meteorological calm. The water had started to recede. But now it was rising again, and quickly.
I reported what I could. They were smack in the middle of it. There were still 2 to 3 hours worth of outer bands in the gulf, waiting to be pulled onshore. As the eye of Ike crossed onto land, the storm slowed. A slowing storm is never good. As it churns in place, it throws more and more tidal water on shore, spurns tornados, waterspouts, and lightning. I snapped phone pictures of my computer screen showing where Ike was, and sent them to her. She hurried off the phone to call her niece. Elaine texted me later, and I spoke to her briefly the next morning – they were hot and tired. And then we lost communication.
The phone lines are down. They charged cell phones on a generator. This worked until the back-up batteries in the cell towers themselves drained. With no power, the towers can’t send any phone calls. She can still receive texts, I think, but can only place collect calls to a land line. I just got word from a small network of friends and family, that they will probably be forced to leave for at least a month. I’m waiting for more news, and possibly house guests.
That’s what Elaine is doing. We know Henry is probably o.k. He is one of the police officers in command at the San Luis Hotel; we saw him on Fox News. William left and evacuated to Houston; I assume he’s o.k. We still have many more friends who I am wondering and worrying about. I know these Galveston people. They are stubborn, and strive to be self-sufficient. They don’t want to give in to warnings or admit defeat. I hope they all came to their senses before the storm, but I doubt it. They’re probably fine, they’re a resilient lot, but I can’t help worrying.
The call of the ocean is a siren song. With the beautiful sunsets, the hypnotic waves, rolling sea birds, and the fresh ocean breeze, come the mosquitos, ubiquitous rust, incessant humidity, and the very real threat, 5 months out of the year, of storms like Ike.
