Monthly Archive for January, 2009

Daring Bakers: Tuiles

Published
by
ashley
on January 29, 2009
in baking
. 4 Comments

It’s funny, but this month I’ve made a conscious effort to eat healthier things.  This unfortunately fizzled out about halfway through the month when my old roommate Ruth Ann came up to visit before the Inauguration and we ate lots of bad things like Chinese food and delicious cheese pizza and Burger King Whoppers (affectionately called Whippers because that’s what Drunken Lorrie called them).  It was a great time.  I also made brownies this month and pecan pie and I ate the rest of the candy leftover from Christmas (Marques knows the way to my heart is paved with Ritter Sport milk chocolate with cornflakes bars).  It didn’t really turn out to be a good month for me.

However, somehow, I HAVE lost all of the holiday weight I put on and am now back to my normal weight.  Which is still very fat.

So I’ll admit that I was NOT pumped about doing a Daring Bakers challenge this month since I wanted to eat lighter and while I would love to eat a 7 layer cake with delicious buttercream frosting, it’s probably not the best thing for me to eat at this particular point in time.  That’s why when they announced the challenge, I was pretty happy about it.

This month’s challenge is brought to us by Karen of Bake My Day and Zorra of 1x umruehren bitte aka Kochtopf. They have chosen Tuiles from The Chocolate Book by Angélique Schmeink and Nougatine and Chocolate Tuiles from Michel Roux.

Tuiles are those little thin, delicate shaped wafer cookies that are often served with fruit, sorbets, ice creams, or puddings.  They’re very light - the recipe is essentially butter, powdered sugar, egg whites and flour.  No chocolate, no caramel, no 6 different kinds of sugar, no egg yolks.

We had to shape our tuiles and serve them with something light.  Mixing the batter was easy, but I did have a difficult time forming my tuile shapes - I either underbaked my tuiles or I overbaked them.  I think the trick was (for me, anyway) to spread them VERY thin, like you can almost see the cookie sheet underneath it thin, and bake them until the edges just start to get brown.

I did two different kinds.  The first, I did a basic tuile U shape and in the center, placed a few rounds of delicious coffee ice cream and drizzled a bit of chocolate sauce over it.

(sidenote: Sorry for the dark pictures, I made my tuiles at 11:00 p.m.)

IMG_1893

The other tuiles were cigar shaped, and I filled those with just a very basic whipped cream, accented with pink sugar sprinkles and dusted with cocoa powder.  Sort of like a fake cannoli.

IMG_1896

So there you have it.  There’s this month’s Daring Bakers.  Full recipe can be yanked from one of the host’s websites up above.  Can’t wait for next month!

Saying yes (and no) to snow

Published
by
ashley
on January 27, 2009
in i am ridiculous and marques
. 1 Comment

I would like to preface this by saying how much I love snow.  Because I do.  I love watching snow fall and I love the big thick flakes and the little thin flurries and I love how it sticks to my coat and my hair.  I don’t really love it when it sticks to my glasses because then I can’t see where I’m going.

When I lived in Huntington, I could have sworn that Huntington was under some sort of protective bubble, much like the giant glass bubble in the Simpsons movie.  The entirety of West Virginia and Kentucky could receive snow and ice and Huntington would be clear as a bell.  Ten miles down the road, sure, snow.  But Huntington rarely received snow.

Now that I’ve moved away to a city with much more promises of snow, it seems like all Huntington gets these days is snow.  Everytime I log on Facebook, I see an outpouring of status updates - “Cara is excited for snow!” “Ruth Ann is wading in the snow!”  “SNOW SNOW SNOW.”  COME ON.

And then this morning, Marques came in the bedroom to wake me up and said, “Look, outside, there’s snow!”  At first, I was excited with childlike wonder and glee, ripping off the covers and peering out the window.  I was delighted to find a snow-covered wonderland outside. I immediately thought, “Man, I wish I didn’t have to go to work today so I could stay home and play in the snow and drink hot chocolate.”

But then my next thought was, “Shit.  I have to walk to the metro in snow.”

See, I don’t own a pair of boots.  Part of this is because I don’t do any sort of heel.  I’m pretty sure whatever natural arch I had has been destroyed by years of Chuck Taylor wearing because my feet are now as flat as a board.  I have, on occasion, tried to wear kitten heels and have failed miserably.  I am doomed to a life of flats, which is fine, except when it snows.  I also don’t wear or own any leather things, not for any ethical reasons or whatever, but mainly because I don’t particularly like the way that leather feels or looks.

So I woke up early and had Marques drive me to the metro (shame!) and I brought an extra pair of socks to work which he scoffed at, calling me a nerd, but who’s laughing now?  My feet got a bit wet on the way in (I did not wear Chucks, I wore a pair of Sauconys, which are still fabric but have a bit more protection than, you know, just canvas) and now I don’t have to worry about that anymore, or be concerned that I will need to have my feet cut off due to frostbite or whatever.

And now I can sit and watch the snow fall and make hot chocolate from the 18 packets I have in my desk (but no marshmallows, siiiiigh) and I can actually be happy that it’s snowing.

This is why I like living with my boyfriend

Published
by
ashley
on January 25, 2009
in baking, i am ridiculous, marques and television
. 1 Comment

I’m in the living room, he’s in the bedroom.  I’ve just finished eating breakfast - this morning I veered from my usual cereal and scrambled myself a couple of eggs with some sharp cheddar, as well as delicious toast with blackberry jam.  I’m trying to figure out what to do for this month’s Daring Bakers challenge as well as figure out how I’m going to bake a pie today, do laundry, shop for a mattress, sweep the floors and make a nice Sunday dinner, all before 9 p.m..

However, from the bedroom, I hear the strains of Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” and I immediately realize my boyfriend, lost in a world without Sunday football, has relegated himself to watching the movie Titanic.

What a dork.  I can’t wait to go make fun of him about this.

Birthday extravaganza almost completed. Boo.

Published
by
ashley
on January 9, 2009
in i am ridiculous
. 3 Comments

So!  Happy Birthday to me…. on Wednesday!

I had a really nice birthday day, actually.  I came into work to find that my workmates had placed a giant shiny present on my desk.  This was quite unexpected, but I was pleased nonetheless.  It turned out to be a copy of Alton Brown’s “I’m Just Here for the Food”, which I LOVED.  I’ve really been wanting to build up my cookbook collection these days so I’m glad to have one more to add to the top of my refrigerator.

Then Scott brought out a giant glass baking pan of chocolate goodness, along with a tiny takeout container of more chocolate goodness.  At first, I assumed that the takeout container was just extra chocolate goodness that couldn’t fit into the pan, but then Scott revealed that he made meat trifle.

See, we’re all Friends fans here, and we talk about Friends occasionally.  Over the past few weeks, we’ve really focused on the episode where Rachel makes the trifle and adds meat in it.  I don’t know why, I guess because of the holidays.  So Scott added an extra layer of ground beef to his chocolate trifle.

Yes, I tasted it.  We all did.  It wasn’t too bad until you actually chewed it and then you hit unmistakable pieces of meat.  And then your mind registers MEAT MEAT MEAT MEAT IN THE TRIFLE and then you gag reflex starts kicking in because you’re eating two things that do not belong together in this world.  Good birthday.

I did a bunch of work that day including a GIANT Caroline Kennedy cutout and then went home where my boyfriend picked me up from the metro wearing a dress shirt and tie - he was looking quite GQ if I say so myself.  It was a refreshing change from his normal Threadless t-shirt/plaid button-up combo.  He drove me home and when I walked in the house, it was clean and he had even washed the tablecloth and put a vase of fresh flowers on the dining room table.  It was very sweet.

The menu started with blue cheese bites as an appetizer, followed by baked macaroni and cheese (my favorite!) and lemon cupcakes with cream cheese icing for dessert.  Apparently the theme of the dinner was cheese.

It was a really nice birthday, one of the best I’ve had, and I’m thankful for it.  I am very grateful for all of the people in my life who made this day so great.

This is a sappy post.  I’m sorry.  I don’t have anything funny to say, really.  My nights have been taken over by the fourth season of Battlestar Galactica and working out.  Working out isn’t really all the fun although I do occasionally get weird looks from people when I turn the channel to Food Network.  There’s nothing more motivating to me than the option of being able to eat delicious food - I’m hoping that by working out, my snail-like metabolism will kick it into cheetah gear.  Maybe.  Either working out or heroin, I’m not sure which one will work the best.

This is the last day of our acquaintance, 25

Published
by
ashley
on January 6, 2009
in family, friends, i am ridiculous, life, marques, television, waylon and work
. 4 Comments

It’s 12:17 a.m., which means that today is officially the last day I can call myself 25 years old.

And in 24 hours, I’ll be 26.

26 is nothing.

My boyfriend is just two years from 30.  He’s the one who should be concerned.

I always tell myself every year that this is going to be the year when I grow up, when I stop playing so many video games and start contributing to a 401k.  Last year, I resolved to learn to like wine and to start appreciating mushrooms.  Still hasn’t kicked in.  Though I did try.  I still have hope for the wine, but definitely not the mushrooms.  Blech.

I’m also constantly concerned that this is going to be the year where I develop a severe food allergy, like to peanuts or to shellfish and I will have to be one of those people who carries an epi-pen around with them.  I am deathly afraid of developing a food allergy only because I am quite irresponsible and I realize that I will not be the kind of person who asks a restaurant to tell me the type of oil my food was prepared in (especially considering that we eat at a lot of ethnic restaurants where English is not the first language).

You hear stories all the time about some unsuspecting girl who dips a spoon into peanut butter, ready to savor the peanut butter goodness and when she brings the spoon to her mouth, her throat closes up and she dies.  And always, the friends and family attend the funeral and everybody commiserates - “She always enjoyed those peanut butter cookies from Subway” or “She loved dipping a spoonful of peanut butter into a bag of chocolate chips” and nobody knows how this allergy formed so quickly.

One of my resolutions for 2009 is not to cut my hair.  I can handle that, I think, because I want to make sure that my hair is long enough to curl or put up or whatever Lorrie wants us to do for her wedding in June.  But secretly, it is also because I am literally dying to have hair like this girl:

(sidenote:  Someone please hack into our Netflix queue and stop us from receiving British sci-fi shows)

By the end of 2009, by the beginning of my 27th year, hopefully my hair will be similar to that hair.  Fingers crossed.

I realize that none of us knows how many years we have in our lifetimes.  I am grateful that I’ve made it to 25 years and 364 days old.  I hope that when I’m 26, lots of things will happen.  I hope I become a better baker, and I hope my hair naturally grows into Gwen Cooper’s hair.  I hope that Marques and I will stay together for another year (really, no other man would put with my constant making-up-songs and burned rice and crinkle nose, not to mention my frequent pop-culture references) and I hope that we are both healthy and happy.  I hope that I do eventually get a new pair of Chuck Taylors as I am tired of walking around with wet socks in the rain.  I hope that I go on vacation this year to a warm and sunny beach with lots of mini-golf and spicy shrimp (though I do not hope I develop the aforementioned shellfish allergy).

On my last day of being 25, I will go into work, and we will publish a newspaper.  I will eat leftover rice for lunch with an orange and maybe some yogurt.  I will buy myself a green tea lemonade or maybe a salted caramel hot chocolate if it snows.  I will come home late to hugs and kisses from my boyfriend, and I will make us a big pot of turkey chili to ward off the cold.  I will maybe hit the treadmill, though it is doubtful because we’re receiving season 4 of Battlestar Galactica tomorrow (one thing that happened while I was 25 - my nerd quotient tripled.  I am the biggest geek in the world) and I’m sure that we’ll want to spend at least 2 hours watching it, curled up with Waylon.  And at midnight, I’ll be 26 (though not officially, that happens at 4:13 in the morning) and when I wake up, it’s more of the same.

I love my birthday.  I love my family.  I love my boyfriend.  I love my cat.  I love my coworkers.  I love my job.  I love my friends.  What it all boils down is that I am thankful that the year of me being 25 has passed and I still love all of these things.

(Now it’s 12:42 a.m. and I am that much closer to not being 25 anymore!

My eyes are fine, except for this little line

Published
by
ashley
on January 5, 2009
in i am ridiculous
. 4 Comments

Today after I got out of the shower, I immediately put moisturizer on my face.  This is not a new routine of mine - I’ve been using moisturizer since I was 14 years old.  I’m actually pretty obsessive-compulsive about it, to be honest.  But now I’m concerned I’m not doing enough.

It’s strange, how preventative I am about some things and how lazy I am about others.  I rarely floss my teeth (it squicks me out) and I don’t really ever use lotion on my legs or elbows.  I eat fairly healthy though at times I’ve been known to throw caution to the wind and eat 6 pieces of cheese pizza.  I really don’t get enough exercise, especially not lately (and definitely not during my 5 days of vacation where I spent the majority of it laying around in bed watching Unsolved Mysteries and Iron Chef marathons).  Sometimes when I leave my house in the mornings, my hair is unbrushed and wet.  I haven’t plucked my eyebrows since… um… a long time.

When people find out about my skin care obsession, I always think to myself that they’re thinking, “Her?  Really?” a la Michael Bluth versus Ann.  It’s just a self-esteem thing, because really, I have awesome skin.  I never wear makeup except on special occasions like meeting all 72 of Marques’s cousins (just kidding, he doesn’t really have 72 of them, but he does have a lot) because I don’t HAVE to wear makeup.  Sure, I’ve got little freckles and my cheeks get pink when I get hot, but for the most part, my skin is rocking.

But now there’s this little nagging scratch in the back of my head every single time I see a commercial for Olay Regenerist or plumping eye gel roller wands.  I have to wonder if I should start using that TODAY to prevent wrinkles when I’m 50.  It’s not that I’m against wrinkles - if I get them, I get them, and I won’t be one of those women who Botox the shit out of my face.  But I would actually prefer it if I could wait to get them until I’m like, 60, and have fully earned them.

My backup plan is just to stay fat.  Fat people almost never have any wrinkles.  But then I would probably die early of heart disease or have to get my feet amputated due to a rampant case of diabetes (let me just say here and now that if I ever do develop diabetes, I will probably die because I really just don’t think I can give up occasional chocolate and cupcakes) which would really defeat the whole purpose of getting old and getting wrinkles.

In the meantime, I’ve been checking out the area around my eyes, keeping tabs.  I’ve thought about taking a picture of my eye area every day so a wrinkle can’t just sneak up on me out of nowhere, like “Hey, there’s a wrinkle, was it here yesterday?  Hm, probably” because I am a really unobservant person.  Good thing I chose to be a journalist.

But then I think that I am just crazy.  Eye pictures?  20 dollar Regenerist creams?  I’m turning 26.  I have no kids, no husband, no real concerns.  I don’t live a stressful life, I enjoy my job, I get lots of sleep.  My biggest complaints are having to stick a pen in our gearshift to make it work and when Trader Joe’s runs out of salsa.  I am probably doing better than 94% of the people out there.  My eyes are fine.

For now.

(Sidenote:  If there was a way I could file this under the category “I am ridiculous” a thousand times, I would.  Sometimes I need to jam a pen in my eye to stop being so silly.)

There is no way I will be 26 years old in 5 days

Published
by
ashley
on January 2, 2009
in apartment and i am ridiculous
. 2 Comments

I definitely had goals for today.  When I woke up, I was going to strip the bed and wash all of the sheets and pillowcases.  I was going to sweep and scrub the bathroom floor as it is totally disgusting.  I was going to reorganize the top of my refrigerator to make room for cookbooks and candy (two of my favorite things!).  I was going to return unwanted presents back to stores so we could buy Contra for our DS.  I was going to do 3 loads of laundry as I am currently wearing holy jogging pants and a He-Man t-shirt I bought when I was 15 years old (and is so thin and faded you can’t even tell what it is).  I was going to do a facial mask on my face to ward off any impending wrinkles since I’m going to be 26 soon.

But then I turned on the television and saw that Spike was airing like 6 hours of Unsolved Mysteries.

And now it’s 6 pm.  I just got up from the couch, which has housed my fat ass since 1 pm, wrapped up in my vintage chenille blanket with a bowl of half eaten leftover lasagna on the coffee table.

What is wrong with me?