Our oven broke. It's not the first time or the worst time. The worst was a couple of years ago at Thanksgiving. I had to truck our turkey up and down the stairs to Tammy's oven (much smaller than ours) and rearrange it on a different pan because the ROASTER DIDN'T FIT! That time the service repair guy came out and fiddled around to get our not-so-Magic Chef working again. Of course he didn't come out until after Christmas, so the baking I usually do wasn't done either.
I've known for some time the stove could and probably would go out on me again--two of the burners have to be lit manually and have never worked quite right, but two weeks ago on a Friday evening when I decided to make pizza with sun-dried tomato pesto, chevre, spinach and olives, I didn't realize I was baking my very last thing in that oven. I think the thermometer burned out. 450 for thirty minutes did the poor thing in. The next morning I turned the oven on to make some home fries for breakfast and after an hour it was barely warm.
Ben and I went to Standard Appliance on Martin Luther King Day. We went early determined to find a gas stove and have it installed by nightfall--so much for determination. First I have to say I don't love shopping, especially for expensive things I can't afford. The store was pretty empty when we first arrived. We were greeted by two salespeople standing on either side of the door--an older balding man in a suit and a woman in her thirties with long red hair. She was packed tight as a tick into a low cut sweater and poly-blend pants. She had on heels. It was kind of like going to a not so popular kids birthday party. I felt as if they'd been waiting at the door a very long time with their little faces pressed against the windows waiting for fresh meat like us to saunter in the door. We said hello and the woman shadowed us into the store introducing herself and asking questions. I'm sure she was nice, but I hate being followed around when I shop. I also hate when people I don't know keep calling me by name as if we are friends--"Oh I cook too, Kim. I love my Jennair, Kim. Kim, what color are you thinking?" Frankly, Kim wanted to color her gone. She finally showed us where the gas stoves were and then didn't leave even when I nicely and with great effort said we'd probably just look and let her know if we had questions.
What I was looking for was a plain, old-school stove--gas burners that self light, easy to clean, sturdy, good sized oven. If my dream stove was a vehicle it would be a standard transmission truck from the 60's. But alas, what they had on the floor were ovens that proofed bread and dried apples and worked on a timer that could be set weekly and came with a book the size of a Henry James novel. I know what happens to those manuals that come with appliances--they disappear unread and you can never figure out how to work whatever it was you bought. I didn't want a stove with too many "features". I wanted and still want a basic stove. The only ones they had that fit the bill were the Wolf and Vikings and why is it that the most basic of appliances cost $4000 dollars or more?
We almost bought a Jennair with the bread proofing and apple drying and a 100 page manual that I know I'd never read or figure out if I did. But I didn't want to spend $1300 for something I didn't love. We decided to shop around--on-line, restaurant supply stores, craiglist, ebay--and not rush into an appliance the way we tend to rush into things only to regret them sooner than we hope to.
For now that means my project and resolution to bake all our bread this year has been put on indefinite hold. No more pizzas, no more oven roasted vegetables, no more warm plates for cornmeal pancakes on Saturday mornings, no chocolate chip cookies and no Guiness cake. Hell, no more tater tots. A girl could weep, I tell you, just weep.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Low Self-Steam
Is it laziness? Fear of failure? Or is it perpetual procrastination that fuels this dead-zone of inactivity writing-wise. Since I sold the rights to my first novel, Little Green, I've had a terrible time sitting down to actually write. I thought starting this blog would give me the assignment I need to produce a little something, something on a regular basis and keep my writing feet wet. Nice thought, but as you can see by the giant gaps in time between posts I'm not actually doing it. Other things I'm not actually doing:
The yoga class I say I'm signing up for every term.
Getting rid of the piles of papers lurking in small and large piles all over the house.
Cleaning the refrigerator and defrosting the freezer.
Going through all closets, drawers and boxes--sorting, and dumping and only keeping the essential stuff.
Sending short stories off to magazines and contests.
Writing on book number 2.
Enough! It's so easy to feel bad about every blessed thing I think I should do and don't. So what have I do that I do with love and happiness everyday?
I write in my journal and stick things in there with a glue stick and I even draw in there sometimes.
I've quit watching tv and started listening to Radio Moth on NPR.
I've been reading like crazy: Animal Vegetable and Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver; The Children's Book by AS Byatt; A Gate At The Top of the Stairs by Lorrie Moore; My Life in France by Julia Child; The Hour I First Believed by Wally Lamb.
I've also been cooking a lot and looking forward to a bigger, better garden in the spring.
Every year I have a little cooking goal in mind--something I want to master for myself and this year it's looking like bread is it. When I taught preschool I made bread with the kids all the time. The oldest kids in my class could whip up a batch of Tassajara bread without a recipe by the end of the school year. There's nothing better than the experience of making bread. It is a supremely tactile and sensual thing to do. From the kneading of the dough and the smell of the yeast as it rises to the taste of the first delicious bite every step pulls me into the present moment and connects me to all the people baking for their families all over the world. So my goal this year is to do all the bread making for or family unit. I want to develop a sourdough starter from scratch and keep it going through the year. My mentor-teacher-friend Tony has been baking from a starter for his family (a much larger unit than mine) for decades. He makes a killer whole wheat seeded loaf--long and slim as a baton--with so much dense and hearty flavor it's a meal in itself. Now that I've given up meat and am heading toward a mostly vegan diet I think it's time to get baking. This is the recipe I used with my preschool kids. If you've never baked a loaf of bread this is the recipe to start with. I got it from the Tassajara Cookbook back in the 80's. It never fails:
1 package (2 1/2 tsp) active dry yeast
2 1/2 cups warm water (baby bath temp)
1 T honey
1 T oil
Put it all together in a bowl and wait for 10 minutes for the yeast to get fuzzy.
Stir in 2 cups of flour and 1 T kosher salt. Keep adding flour and stirring until you can't stir in any more and then dump the dough on a floured surface. Add flour a cup at a time and knead until you have a smooth ball of dough. Put the dough in an oiled bowl in a warm place (not too hot) and cover with a dish towel. An hour later it should be doubled in size. Turn it out on a lightly floured surface and shape into two loaves. Slide those babies into greased loaf pans and cover again for another hour. Turn the oven on to 350 and when the loaves have risen pop them into the oven for about 40 minutes--until they are golden brown and sound hollow when you thump them. Let the loaves cool on a rack before slicing them or just eat it hot and fresh out the box slathered with jam or honey or butter or all the above!
The yoga class I say I'm signing up for every term.
Getting rid of the piles of papers lurking in small and large piles all over the house.
Cleaning the refrigerator and defrosting the freezer.
Going through all closets, drawers and boxes--sorting, and dumping and only keeping the essential stuff.
Sending short stories off to magazines and contests.
Writing on book number 2.
Enough! It's so easy to feel bad about every blessed thing I think I should do and don't. So what have I do that I do with love and happiness everyday?
I write in my journal and stick things in there with a glue stick and I even draw in there sometimes.
I've quit watching tv and started listening to Radio Moth on NPR.
I've been reading like crazy: Animal Vegetable and Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver; The Children's Book by AS Byatt; A Gate At The Top of the Stairs by Lorrie Moore; My Life in France by Julia Child; The Hour I First Believed by Wally Lamb.
I've also been cooking a lot and looking forward to a bigger, better garden in the spring.
Every year I have a little cooking goal in mind--something I want to master for myself and this year it's looking like bread is it. When I taught preschool I made bread with the kids all the time. The oldest kids in my class could whip up a batch of Tassajara bread without a recipe by the end of the school year. There's nothing better than the experience of making bread. It is a supremely tactile and sensual thing to do. From the kneading of the dough and the smell of the yeast as it rises to the taste of the first delicious bite every step pulls me into the present moment and connects me to all the people baking for their families all over the world. So my goal this year is to do all the bread making for or family unit. I want to develop a sourdough starter from scratch and keep it going through the year. My mentor-teacher-friend Tony has been baking from a starter for his family (a much larger unit than mine) for decades. He makes a killer whole wheat seeded loaf--long and slim as a baton--with so much dense and hearty flavor it's a meal in itself. Now that I've given up meat and am heading toward a mostly vegan diet I think it's time to get baking. This is the recipe I used with my preschool kids. If you've never baked a loaf of bread this is the recipe to start with. I got it from the Tassajara Cookbook back in the 80's. It never fails:
1 package (2 1/2 tsp) active dry yeast
2 1/2 cups warm water (baby bath temp)
1 T honey
1 T oil
Put it all together in a bowl and wait for 10 minutes for the yeast to get fuzzy.
Stir in 2 cups of flour and 1 T kosher salt. Keep adding flour and stirring until you can't stir in any more and then dump the dough on a floured surface. Add flour a cup at a time and knead until you have a smooth ball of dough. Put the dough in an oiled bowl in a warm place (not too hot) and cover with a dish towel. An hour later it should be doubled in size. Turn it out on a lightly floured surface and shape into two loaves. Slide those babies into greased loaf pans and cover again for another hour. Turn the oven on to 350 and when the loaves have risen pop them into the oven for about 40 minutes--until they are golden brown and sound hollow when you thump them. Let the loaves cool on a rack before slicing them or just eat it hot and fresh out the box slathered with jam or honey or butter or all the above!
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