A little shopping for the kitchen

A $50 gift card for Sur La Table was burning a whole in my purse, and my Cuisinart food processor had recently bought the farm. So while Sophie was whiling away the morning in her ceramics class, I headed around the corner for a little shopping.

And a most unprecendented thing occurred. I went in to buy the large version of something but left with the small (and—I might add—considerably less expensive) version. This probably wouldn't have happened if I had not had along a thrifty, level-headed girlfriend. We decided that it would be worth it for me to try life with the small version. If that worked out, fine. Money and counter space saved. But if it really didn't work out, I could come back and get the large one as well. Genius, no? Because there are some things (like herbs) that really do not work well in a large machine, so if I ended up with one of each size, the small one could be the herb processor.
The big test will come in the spring, during pesto season, and next winter during fruit cake season. Stay tuned.

In the meantime, I got to visit my dishes. They're not really my dishes, but I would like them to be. Aren't they lovely? I think they would look very nice against my kitchen's vintage butter yellow tile.


I also admired these, which is where the gift card might have gone if I didn't need a new food processor.


The Things Cooks Love line features beautiful French utensiles with wood handles, sealed so you can run them through the dishwasher. Very pretty but completely unnecessary, unlike the food processor, the absence of which was becoming an emergency.

Pancake Lab: Banana cinnamon buttermilk

So following my culinary humiliation with pad thai for beginners, I retreated to a safe place: my Pancake Laboratory. Where things always work out. And my family always cheers on my results. A happy place.

We usually slow down on Saturday mornings: we get up a little later, move a little slower, and don't get out of our jammies until absolutely necessary. And we eat pancakes. Or french toast. Or buttermilk biscuits. See the carb. theme here? And bacon too, because to my mind there's no smells that mingle more beautifully than those of bacon and freshly brewing coffee.

But I digress. The pancakes. This is a modification of The Joy of Cooking's recipe (I have a volume so old it lists recipes for squirrel).

INGREDIENTS

1 cup flour
1 Tbl. brown sugar
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 cup buttermilk
2 Tb. melted butter or canola oil
1 well-ripened banana, mashed

DO THIS

Combine the dry ingredients. In another bowl, combine the egg, buttermilk, and butter or oil. Fold into dry ingredients. Fold in mashed banana.


I think nothing works better for pancakes than a well-seasoned cast iron skillet. Heat one on the stove. Grease with a little butter. Spoon batter into skillet.


Turn pancakes when a few bubble form on top. Serve with (more) butter and (real) maple syrup.


Wasn't that easy? You know that boxed mix stuff? Don't buy that anymore.

Dear Pim,

Imagine my surprise, after browsing your excellent food blog, Chez Pim, to find that we share some friends. Charming couple, adorable child, live in Oakland. She a good cook herself. You know—those guys. Shortly after I began my blog, my friend remarked, "Oh, you should look at my friend Pim's site." Pim? As in Chez Pim? I already had and was in serious awe. My friends insisted that you are as charming, smart, and kind as one might think. And so I am hoping you will help me.

You see, after reading your blog for a while I finally decided to cook something from it. What better to start with than pad thai for beginners? I was delighted that your recipe did not include ingredients like catsup, and I was able to find tamarind pulp containing nothing else but tamarind and water (although I was suspicious of the thai market I shopped at because it had something called hot crab paste in three different places in the store).

I had all my ingredients prepped and in a row and thought I was in business.


I cooked the chicken, in a little oil, with a little of the sauce. Smelled heavenly. I added the drained rice noodles, which I had soaked in hot water for about ten minutes. I moved them deftly about the wok, as instructed. And kept moving them. And moving them.

And . . . Houston, we've got a problem.

The noodles stayed tough—like half-cooked spaghetti. Which put me into damage control mode. I poured cup after cup of water into the wok in effort to soften up the noodles.


I realized that this was no longer pad thai, but I was trying to rescue something I could serve for dinner.

This did soften the noodels but not before turning the entire concoction into a big gloppy mess. Soldiering on (there were no other alternatives available for dinner, and my family kept remarking from the other room "Smells good! We're hungry!"), I added the other ingredients and served the glop.


Husband and Sophie were good sports, and we all agreed the flavors were right on. But the texture was just . . . well, you can see for yourself. Husband used the work gluey.

So Pim, I really want to make this again and will truly try to find fresh noodles (this being the bay area, I should be able to find anything, right?), but I really want to know what went wrong? In case it helps, here are the noodles I bought.


I appreciate any advice you can offer.

Love,
Cindy

p.s. Our mutual friend and I were all set to try your quince caramels, but alas we waited too long and the quinces are gone. Can you recommend another fruit to try this with?

Cook's Illustrated and me

That's right: me. As in an email beginning "Dear Cindy."

Because, you see, I am now an official recipe tester for them. Before you get all impressed know that I was awarded this position because I successfully clicked on a link in the email I regularly receive from them.

Do I receive any compensation? Free cookbooks? Fame? Nooooooooo. I just get the chance to try out new recipes and shoot my mouth off about them. I know: that's what my blog's for, but this is going to be even more exciting.

Here are the questions I will answer once I prepare the recipe I just received:

Have you ever eaten or prepared a dish or recipe similar to this before?

Prior to making this recipe, what were your expectations for this dish?

If recipe calls for a grill, what type of grill did you use?

Did you use all the equipment (including the correct pan size and type - if applicable) called for in this recipe?

Please list the equipment you did not have and the substitutions you made.

If recipe offers ingredient options (such as cuts of meat or type of milk), which did you use?

Did you make any adjustments to the ingredient (omissions, additions, or substitutions)?

Please list the adjustments that you made, particularly noting which ingredients you did not have and the substitutions that you made.

Did you find any of the techniques used in the recipe to be difficult, unclear, or awkward?

Please explain which techniques were difficult, unclear or awkward in the recipe.

How long did it take you to make this recipe? Please do not include the time taken to gather your ingredients, cooling, or resting time. We would like to know how long it took to prepare and cook the recipe. If a grill is involved we may ask you to include the time it took to set up the grill. Marinades and brines would not be included in these times, but we may ask the length of time of the brine or marinade to be given separately.

Did the recipe yield the stated quantity?

How many portions did the recipe yield?

How would you rate this recipe (1-10, 10 being the best)?

Was this recipe worth the time, effort, and expense? If not, why?

Did we achieve our goal? If not, why?

Would you make this recipe again?

Well, if this isn't the most exciting thing that has happened to me in ages. I am going to run to the store. Because I only have until Friday, Februrary 8 to prepare the recipe and answer the questions. I'll be making stuffed portabello mushrooms.

What's a kid to read?

Well, lots of good stuff, according my girlfriend who is a middle school librarian. The American Association for Library Service to Children has issued its 2008 list of notable childrens books.

Books are grouped for the following grade ranges:

Young: Pre-K to 3
Middle: 4 to 6
Older: 5 and up

She writes

This is not yet another best book of the year list based on sales or popularity. I like the diversity of titles and subjects that the ALSC considers before they publish notable books. One way or another, this is a resource in case your kids declare they can't find  anything to read or you find yourself (like me) hiding books because you can not read that insipid American Girl Doll book  one more time.

Amen to that.

A bullet narrowly dodged

So my girlfriend sent me an email this morning suggesting that we avoid the Superbowl (it's on Sunday, I understand) and take our girls to San Francisco to see a 3D movie of a Hannah Montana concert.


I clicked over the ticket website in the message and found that this movie is listed as featuring Hannah Montana and Miley Cyrus. At which point my confusion was enough to warrant a phone call. My girlfriend is obviously more up on these things than I and got me (mostly) straightened out. This situation is this:

Hannah Montana and Miley Cyrus are the same person, the former apparently being the stage name of the latter. Fine. But why do they list it that way? Does she have some sort of multiple personality disorder? No, wait. That's Britney Spears. Or me on a bad day.

Miley Cyrus is the daughter of Billy Ray Cyrus, the guy who put mullets on the map and sang that silly song "My Achy Breaky Heart," and nothing else if I remember correctly. Didn't he also have some raging drug problem? Does he still have that hair?

Miley Cyrus (or Hannah Montana) has a television show in which she appears as both Miley Cyrus and Hannah Montana. How do they manage that? Different outfits? Different accents? Sounds confusing. It's on the Disney channel, which is a cable channel, and we continue to be the last family in the United States without cable television (to my daughter's horror and my delight).

But THANK GOD tickets were SOLD OUT! So in my twisted mind I get credit for agreeing to go without actually having to endure and hour and 14 minutes of trying to figure out whether I'm watching Hannah Montana or Miley Cyrus. I mean, seriously, I've got enough to figure out in my life already.

Back on the horse

And safely at work. But not without major panic and anxiety. Other than riding the two blocks remaining to my office, I haven't been back on my motor scooter since my crash. And not because I was too injured but because I was too afraid.


I've been riding my scooter to work for almost four years, and my scooter and I nearly have what I used to call "body-bike oneness" when I was a bicycle commuter. I go zipping up and down the Berkeley hills, leaning into corners, cashmere scarf flying in the wind, with the sound of "Born To Be Wild" in my head. I'm not a (nearly) middle-aged mom on her way to the office . . . no, I'm something entirely different, although I'm not sure just what. Especially since in the summer I've often got Sophie on the back.

But the fact that I had an accident I really wouldn't know how to avoid should the same circumstances occur again (oil on a wet road) has really freaked me. Husband has been asking every morning "Riding your scooter today?" (When I do, he thoughtfully wheels it out of the garage and up the driveway for me.) And I've answered "Nope. Not ready. Raining." But today it wasn't raining, and he suggested that it was time to get back on the horse. And so I did. But not before we had this ridiculous conversation.

Husband: Ok, so let's talk for a minute about motor scooter safety. You need to look ahead of you and think when you ride.

Me: Think? No, I'd rather ride around with my head up my ass.

Husband: I really can't talk to you about anything, can I?

Me: Not about this.

Husband: Ok, call me when you get to work to let me know you're ok.

I was, and so I did. But in the meantime I swallowed panic at every stop and turn. And I was nearly blind with anxiety when I approached the spot where I had the accident. But I did not crash and made it safely at work. So I think I've got the head problem licked. Now if I can only heel the knee.