Knit Think

Friday food

But first, an update on the school threat. I talked to the school principal yesterday, and he gave me a bit more information. He didn't say what exactly the threat was, but that it had been specific enough to cause the school to close. But they have tracked it to a particular student. When I referred to it as a prank, he corrected me and said no, this was much more serious. But contained.

{{{shiver}}}

I guess all's well that ends well.

And on to food!

This week's culinary theme is KISS (Keep It Simple, Stupid). We had friends over for dinner last week, and I wanted to have a dessert that was light and easy. I pulled Nigella Express off the bookshelf. Now, I know some people don't like Nigella. I've never watched her show, so I can't claim any opinions on it. But the book intrigued me because of its KISS approach. Sure enough, there was a very KISSy dessert.

Two required ingredients and one optional.

So. You peel peaches. You pit and slice them. You put them in a bowl and pour Muscat over them. Refrigerate for several hours.

That's it.

Oh--and there is an optional finish: you can serve this as is, or you can serve it with vanilla ice cream or heavy cream. I used vanilla ice cream, which was very tasty. Later in the evening, when the ice cream container had been sitting out for a while, I spooned up some of the ice cream soup (did you do that as a kid? Mush and stir your ice cream to make ice cream soup? Mmm, ice cream soup) and poured it over some of the peaches and wine, and somehow that was even better.

KISS indeed.

Who needs coffee...

...when you can start your day with a phone call at 5 a.m. telling you this:

"Dear Eden Prairie High School Parents/Guardians,

The administration at Eden Prairie High School received information regarding an alleged threat. Our administrative team has been working closely with the Eden Prairie Police Department to investigate the information brought forth.

We are taking this alleged threat seriously, and to ensure the safety of our students, classes at Eden Prairie High School have been canceled for Wednesday, February 27. Staff will be onsite at the High School as the investigation continues. We will keep you updated as more information becomes available.

Since the threat only impacts Eden Prairie High School, all other district schools will remain open."

My response versus The Teen's response was, not surprisingly, different. I went into his room to tell him he could turn his alarm off and sleep in. "Yessssssss!"

Me? Yeah, like I'm going back to sleep after that. Worry, worry, worry. I know the school district has received threats before and worked with police to either contain them or dismiss them as not credible. Closing the school is a big deal. I'm sure they didn't arrive at the decision lightly. And it's nice to know (ready? here comes the little old lady commentary), given the times we live in, that they're prepared and on top of things and willing, as it turns out, to send emails (source of the above text) to parents at 1:30 a.m.

I could go on about the bigger picture and recent school tragedies, but you all are intelligent people and know all of that already. It's just weird to be a parent in 2008 and have to watch and wait as the school officials you trust grapple with these kinds of issues.

I suppose I should be thankful that it wasn't a different kind of 5 a.m. call, the kind someone (like me) with elderly parents might get.

Yup, that's me--a full-fledged member of the sandwich generation.

Bearly done

Sorry for the bad pun. I was up too late watching the Oscars, which actually were rather short this year. Other than Marion Cotillard and Tilda Swinton, there weren't too many surprises. And while I heart Jon Stewart, he's not the best Oscar host. OTOH, he did provide my favorite moment--when he brought Marketa Irglova back out and gave her the much-deserved chance to give her short thank-you speech. Good on you, Jon!

While I was watching, I was stuffing--not myself, I took care of that at dinner--and finally finishing these bears:

They're kind of, ah, um, rough--I'm really, really not very good with putting the faces on. Anyone have any good tips for embroidering on knitting? But they are done and ready to go to Mother Bear. And I can return to Little Toe!

Friday food

Enough with the chicken already. Let's have some beef!

Aren't these short ribs pretty? Look at that marbling! Wouldn't that make a lovely yarn colorway?

Back to the spirit of this food challenge from Miss. T., who originally started it as a way to challenge herself to pull cookbooks off the shelf that she hasn't used in a while (or ever) and put them to practical use. For this week, I pulled Barbara Kafka's Soup: A Way of Life from my shelf, where it has been gathering dust since being gifted to me years ago, when the kids were still little and making soup from scratch just seemed to be a tremendously difficult task.

Now that they're older and don't hang off my knees like they're velcroed there, I have more flexibility in the kitchen, and I love soups and stews. So I picked this hearty dish: Beef Short Ribs in a Pot.

It's pretty easy, although the cooking time is long. You basically dump 5 pounds of short ribs in a big pot (the recipe should be called "Beef Short Ribs in a Really Big Pot") of boiling water. There has to be enough water to cover the ribs. Barbara recommends placing an otoshi-buta on top of the ribs to keep them submerged. I don't have an otoshi-buta. I don't even know what that is. But I do have a plate that fits in the pot.

I've heard of warming plates, but this really takes it to a new level, don't you think?

So you let the ribs simmer for 2 1/2 hours, until they are meltingly tender. Then, partially for flavor and partially because ribs boiled in water is a very dull sight, you add some color and texture:

Blanched and peeled pearl onions, thawed frozen peas, mushrooms, and carrots. Add these in, cook until done, season liberally with kosher salt and fresh-ground black pepper, and serve over egg noodles.

The water, which has boiled down somewhat, takes on the flavor of the beef and the veggies to make a mild beef broth.

Here's the funny thing, though. I really liked this. It's not strongly flavored, but it was very much comfort food, good solid stick-to-your-ribs (no pun intended) cold winter day food. However, all the other residents of Casa Knit Think thought it was bland, even DH, who eats beef in any form. I'm the only one who wanted seconds.

I suppose the addition of some herbs would help. But I dunno. It was just right for me. And since I'm the one who cooks...

Little toe

I have been remiss as of late. Cindy was kind enough to bestow this upon me:

Which, of course, made my day. The idea is to pay it forward, and I thought no problem, there are so many bloggers out there whose blogs do make my day. But that's the problem--there are too many of you. And even too many non-bloggers who leave comments that make me chuckle. So, after far too much dithering, I bestow this award on: anyone who reads my blog. If you're not a blogger, feel free to print it out and stick it on your computer screen.

In other news, I'm still on a finishing streak, having just about completed two more bears for Mother Bear. Obviously all this industrious finishing makes me feel like I deserve to cast on something new, and so I have:

Snowdrops Socks in Noro Kureyon sock yarn. I'm doing this in a mini-KAL with Deb and Miss T. Y'all feel free to start a pool betting on who will finish first; if you bet on me, well, you're not very bright, are you?

That's OK. I'm learning something new. And given that I suck at kitchener, I'm happy to be learning this:

This is a toe-up pattern, my first. Look--a little toe! It only took 90 minutes and five starts, but it's a toe!

More finishy goodness

Finished another scarf and blocked two this weekend:

Hypoteneuse, in Schaefer Laurel yarn (which is wonderful to knit, btw) in the Frida Kahlo colorway. I'm very pleased with it.

Dog's Paw scarf, GGH Soft-Kid yarn. A very nice first mohair experience. And I picked the color based on the fact that it reminded me of Teddy the Wonder Dog. Sniff.

Also, I finished a sock. It's a rather sad little sock. Pathetic, really. So no photographs. But it is done, and I will love it as much as any nicer sock I ever do. And someday maybe I'll make it a mate.

Friday food

Here's the thing about chicken. It's often inexpensive. It's amazingly versatile. Depending on how you cook it, health and nutrition experts are all smiles about it.

On the flip side, the only times in my life I've gotten food poisoning have been from chicken. So my general solution is to be very, very careful about storage, and to cook it way beyond what's necessary. If chicken, like a cat, had nine lives, I'd cook off every one of them before serving. You get served chicken at my house? You're pretty safe in terms of gastrointestinal disorders.

The downside of that approach is that I have an unfortunate tendency to turn what should be moist, juicy meat into sawdust. So I have been trying to temper my anti-food-poisoning tactics to balance them with my family's (and my own) desire for something that's actually edible at the end of the cooking process.

I found something. It's from Gloria Bley Miller's wonderful Thousand Recipe Chinese Cookbook. And hey, for those of you who really don't like long ingredient lists, you're gonna love this.

Chicken and salt. Lots of salt. 3-5 pounds, according to the recipe.

Now don't get your blood pressure in a tizzy. The salt is used as a cooking vessel far more than as an ingredient. First you dump all the salt in a big cooking pot and heat it until it's very hot, about 30 minutes. No, it doesn't melt. It does brown a little.

Then you take a bunch of the salt out, leaving about 2 inches on the bottom, and plop in a whole chicken, breast side down. Then pack the remaining hot salt around it. Cover tightly and cook on low for about an hour.

I was certain this chicken would not be done in that time, not on low. But it was:

Fully cooked, and beautifully moist and tender. But not salty. Because what happens is the salt hardens, like a clay; whenthe cooking is done, you have to smash it off the chicken (easy AND fun!), and it leaves only a faint trace of salt on the bird itself.

Although it does leave a big mess in your sink.

Theoretically the salt can be used again. That's pushing my food poisoning paranoia just a little too hard, so down the garbage disposal it went.

The chicken, however, was wonderful. I will definitely make it again. But make sure you have a pot big enough so that the lid fits tightly after you stuff a whole chicken and four pounds of salt in it.

Valentine's Day

Bah, humbug.

St. Valentine's and I have some very painful roots, namely this:

That would be me. Before you go all "Awwwwwww," keep in mind that I was the only one in my class, every year from kindergarten until sixth grade (when I finally pitched a fit and said NO MORE), that handed out photo Valentines with her own picture on them. Good idea for grandparents and doting aunts? Sure. For classmates? HELL NO.

I do understand my parents meant well. Photographs were very important to them. For years they ran a weekend business as wedding photographers. My dad had a black-and-white darkroom. They liked to practice. On me.

To be honest, for a while there I was pretty cute:

You really can't resist that, can you?

There were times when the picture-taking thing was a little weird. If your neighbor's trailer house burned down overnight, would your first thought be to grab your daughter and your camera and take a picture?

Cheerful in the face of tragedy. On my banana seat bike with the big pink and purple wicker basket.

But oh, the ravages of adolescence. The arrival of acne. Horrendous glasses. And pitiful haircuts.

{shudder}

When I was 13, I was confirmed at church. My parents heavily documented the entire event. A few years ago, they brought me the photo album from the confirmation (yes! a full photo album!). It was painful. I had acne so bad I looked like I had chicken pox; my hair was greasy; I had big thick glasses; and my mother bought me a bright yellow dress for the occasion--never mind that yellow makes me look jaundiced. I realized that if 30-some years after the fact, looking at those pictures was not enjoyable, it was never going to be. They're in a landfill somewhere.

Ah, for the sweet lost glory of youth...

 

I have to wonder

...if those of you who knit faster than I do (which is pretty much everyone) get nearly as much satisfaction out of finishing something as I do.

Vintage Velvet from Scarf Style, knit in Muench Touch Me yarn. The utterly terrifying part of this was not in the knitting, which was pretty easy (and downright boring by the end), but in the pattern instructions, which tell you to take the knit scarf (made out of yarn which says on the label is dry-clean only) and put it through a full hot-wash cycle AND put it in the dryer for a while. I thought about taking before and after pictures, but I didn't have the heart. And I was slightly tempted to skip the felting; it's very pretty and soft when it's done. But dang, that Touch Me does worm something fierce. And then it looks stupid, like I'm a stoopid knitter who makes stoopid mistakes and can't fix them. Which to some degree is true, but in this case, it's the yarn, not the knitter. So off to the washing machine it went.

And it turned out just beautifully. It's almost fully dry (the stint in the dryer is just meant to get the excess water out, not to dry it completely). It did shrink a little, not terribly. It's still soft. But the felting made the cables stand out better, and best of all, NO MORE WORMS.

Bloggers (Silent) Poetry Reading: the Sequel

Poet and author Ron Hansen gave me permission to post this wonderful poem, so I'm doing it as a sequel to the silent poetry reading. If you have a dog, especially more than one dog--or heck, pets of most any kind--you'll appreciate it. It's from a terrific book called Unleashed: Poems by Writers' Dogs (a book that should be on the shelf of any dog lover).

Do Not Let Skeezix Go in There: Winslow's Villanelle

Do not let Skeezix go in there.
Alpo’s expensive; food isn’t free.

Wise dogs do not like to share.

I’ll kill the cat if you don’t dare.

I haven’t been full since I was three.

Do not let Skeezix go in there.

You got him first but I don’t care.

Homes need just one pet, and that’s me.

Wise dogs do not like to share.

Lazy? Dull? All he does is stare.

Hairball’s his name; his brain is a pea.

Do not let Skeezix go in there.

Won’t chase; won’t bark; won’t play; isn’t fair.

Hates rides and walks. Why not let him be?
Wise dogs do not like to share.

The kitchen’s mine; I’ll lick it bare.

And leftovers? Even they’re for me.

Do not let Skeezix go in there.

Winslow does not like to share.