adventures in home ec
Sep. 16th, 2006 01:13 pmI don't care if the calendar says autumn hasn't yet begun, I hereby declare that it has. My cool-weather sensors have kicked in and booted up the hearty-food requirements, big time. I made a big pot of chili a couple of days ago and have been enjoying the hell out of it. Screw the light, cool summertime meals of cottage cheese and fresh fruit, mozzarella and tomatoes. Bah! Bring on the stew!
Peaches are still available at the Farmer's Market, and I headed out there the other day planning to get some for a pie. I had this weird notion that if they were available this much later than I expected, I should get them, even if I still hadan't eaten all of the last batch. Ergo, I figured, if I get them, I should make pie, because that would be different enough from the peaches I still hadn't eaten.... hey, I have NEVER claimed to be logical.
When I arrived at the Farmer's Market, I was immediately confronted with a stall with apples heaped in baskets. Depsite this temptation, I clung for a few more moments to the peach pie theory, until I had sampled the peaches from two different vendors and found that neither were to my taste. But there was a variety of apple that I'd never heard of before, called Mutsu. The woman at the stall said it was a cross between Granny Smith and Golden Delicious, but the web info I found said it was a cross between Golden Delicious and "Indo" varieties. Never heard of "Indo" either; maybe it's a group. Whatever. I was glad they had samples-- I got a big batch of the Mutsu and a few Galas. I like to live dangerously-- like mixing two different kind of apples in a pie. The Galas are said to cook down more than the Mutsu. The pie is in the oven now-- I can't wait to try it.
I found an interesting book on the new-book shelf at the library the other day- Disco for the Departed, by Colin Cotterill. It's a mystery set in Laos in the late '70's, and has a healthy dash of that "magical realism" I've been finding so intriguing recently. The protagonist is a 70-year-old coroner who has visions and gets messages from the dead. The story is rich in detail about the society and the effects of the war there.
I'm having a hard time settling down to studying. I guess I always do, at the beginning of a semester. Since I haven't had any of these teacher before, I'm still adjusting my expectations of both teachers and classes.
Just took a break from writing this entry to print out some class materials. About midway through, I smelled smoke. Hurried to the kitchen, where the juice from the pie was spilling onto the foil-covered cookie sheet I had placed there for exactly that purpose. No problem; I turned on the exhaust fan. Back to reading and printing. What seemed to be a minute later I noticed smoked again. This time the front three rooms of the house were smoke filled and the damn pie was black. WTF? When I tried to turn the oven off, the knob turned around two or three times without stopping or even clicking at the "off" mark. Now I wonder if the temperature control went haywire, because the pie wasn't even in as long as the directions said it needed to cook. The remaining apples (that I'd bought for eating raw) were sitting on the stovetop and they basically got cooked, too. Not all the way through, but I might as well go on and finish cooking them; I sure won't eat them the way they are now.
I have removed the charred top crust (damn! that's usually the best part...) and hope to salvage at least the filling, which tastes okay. Even the bottom crust is only slightly browner than usual. All I can say about the whole misadventure is.... hrmph.
Peaches are still available at the Farmer's Market, and I headed out there the other day planning to get some for a pie. I had this weird notion that if they were available this much later than I expected, I should get them, even if I still hadan't eaten all of the last batch. Ergo, I figured, if I get them, I should make pie, because that would be different enough from the peaches I still hadn't eaten.... hey, I have NEVER claimed to be logical.
When I arrived at the Farmer's Market, I was immediately confronted with a stall with apples heaped in baskets. Depsite this temptation, I clung for a few more moments to the peach pie theory, until I had sampled the peaches from two different vendors and found that neither were to my taste. But there was a variety of apple that I'd never heard of before, called Mutsu. The woman at the stall said it was a cross between Granny Smith and Golden Delicious, but the web info I found said it was a cross between Golden Delicious and "Indo" varieties. Never heard of "Indo" either; maybe it's a group. Whatever. I was glad they had samples-- I got a big batch of the Mutsu and a few Galas. I like to live dangerously-- like mixing two different kind of apples in a pie. The Galas are said to cook down more than the Mutsu. The pie is in the oven now-- I can't wait to try it.
I found an interesting book on the new-book shelf at the library the other day- Disco for the Departed, by Colin Cotterill. It's a mystery set in Laos in the late '70's, and has a healthy dash of that "magical realism" I've been finding so intriguing recently. The protagonist is a 70-year-old coroner who has visions and gets messages from the dead. The story is rich in detail about the society and the effects of the war there.
I'm having a hard time settling down to studying. I guess I always do, at the beginning of a semester. Since I haven't had any of these teacher before, I'm still adjusting my expectations of both teachers and classes.
Just took a break from writing this entry to print out some class materials. About midway through, I smelled smoke. Hurried to the kitchen, where the juice from the pie was spilling onto the foil-covered cookie sheet I had placed there for exactly that purpose. No problem; I turned on the exhaust fan. Back to reading and printing. What seemed to be a minute later I noticed smoked again. This time the front three rooms of the house were smoke filled and the damn pie was black. WTF? When I tried to turn the oven off, the knob turned around two or three times without stopping or even clicking at the "off" mark. Now I wonder if the temperature control went haywire, because the pie wasn't even in as long as the directions said it needed to cook. The remaining apples (that I'd bought for eating raw) were sitting on the stovetop and they basically got cooked, too. Not all the way through, but I might as well go on and finish cooking them; I sure won't eat them the way they are now.
I have removed the charred top crust (damn! that's usually the best part...) and hope to salvage at least the filling, which tastes okay. Even the bottom crust is only slightly browner than usual. All I can say about the whole misadventure is.... hrmph.