Experiment with bitter oranges (updated)

I'm half serious when I say that we bought a garden with a house in it. The yard is full, overly full, with all sorts of oddities, most of them with thorns or prickles. The yard will require editing, after I decide what stays and what goes.

One of the plants that has been in my "to go" list is a bitter orange tree-let (Poncirus trifoliata) because it is a mass of twisted thorny branches planted in an awkward spot that served no purpose in the garden that I could tell. I may have to reassess that opinion. I've ignored the plant all summer, intending to dig it up this fall when it's not so miserable hot, and then a few days ago I found it had produced fruit, seven or eight small, fuzzy, fragrant fruit. The fragrance is odd: citrusy, medicinal and borderline janitorial all at the same time. Not conventionally pleasant but somehow still compelling.

The little oranges sat on my counter for a few days making the kitchen smell peculiar. Their uses are limited, it seems, so I thought I'd try infusing them into vodka. I dug through one of the last unpacked boxes for our small liquor stash, but no vodka. There was a bottle of white rum, though. I sliced the little buggers as thinly as their zillion seeds would allow, dumped everything into a jar, added some whole allspice and dried ginger bits because they smelled good together with the oranges, and filled the jar with the rum. Let's see what happens, and whether this plant is a keeper after all...

(ETA I'll add a photo when I can figure out how to make Blogger cooperate with my Mac. Also, the fruit is resinous as hell. Getting my knife, the bowl and the cutting mat clean took some serious elbow grease and a lot of full strength dish detergent. I had to toss the sponge afterward.)

(2nd ETA: The experiment was a total fail. It looked cool but when I opened the jar up after a few days of infusing, the "janitorial" smell had gone from borderline to OMFG. My garbage disposal smelled great for a few days though. Looks like the plant it going back on the list of plants to dig up.)

"Ah ha" or "Doh" moment?

Reading Ruth Reichl's latest book the other night, I found one of those ideas that is so simple and obvious, and yet I had never even considered before: when making chicken broth, put the seasonings and other goodies in with the chicken AFTER the foamy stuff that you should skim off cooks out of the bird. This, after years of cursing under my breath as I skimmed peppercorns off with the foam and bobbed the spoon around trying to separate the foam from onion halves and garlic cloves, eliminated that little frustration while making a batch of Thai-inspired coconut chicken soup for the freezer.

A little mystery

The in-between house is diagonally across the (very busy) street from the large, old cemetery. The historic part with the pre-statehood graves and such is on the far side of the cemetery from here. It is the relatively newer section near us that I walk the dog along every morning. It is bordered by a stone wall, and after we wander up the alley between the backyards, greeting the friendly dogs behind their fences, hurrying past the unfriendly ones, and visiting with the cats who have figured out that my dog is a pushover, we walk the sidewalk along the cemetery wall back toward the busy road and the house.

Sometime during the last year, I noticed for first time that there was a small bouquet of flowers left on the wall of the cemetery just outside one of the side entrances. It didn't really register to me then, not until a couple months later when another one appeared. The first one was a mixed bouquet, like you would find at the grocery store, still in its cellophane sleeve. The second one was yellow roses. Then a few months after that, some sort of lily.

This past Monday morning around 5:30 I found the next bouquet, pink roses. They had been left not on the wall, but deliberately placed in the middle of the driveway of the side entrance to the cemetery. Some drivers take a shortcut through the cemetery, and the bouquet had been run over at least once, even though it hadn't been there long. The flowers were still fresh, or as fresh as they can be after being run over. So I did what others probably had done before - I picked the bouquet up and put it on the corner of the wall by the entrance. I guess I was the first jogger or dog walker to notice them this time. Eventually the groundskeepers will pick them up and throw them away.

Not going into it... but hey, plum cake!

... the last 9+ months, that is.

New rule for Little Bit for checking out library books: at least one has to NOT be about cats. However, "Mr. Wuffles" by David Wiesner is just the best! Love love love it! (Ordered a copy.)

A few hints of fall weather have kicked me out of the doldrums a bit, and this afternoon my aspiring pastry chef and I are making a plum cake.

(This kid can knead dough!)

'Way back in the Dark Ages of the mid-1980s, I encountered Zwetschgenkuchen in Germany. The version I fell in love with was made with a lightly sweet yeast dough and small tart plums - Zwetschgen - on a sheet pan. It was served with a sprinkle of sugar and a dollop of whipped cream, though I liked to skip the sugar part to enjoy the exquisite contrast between the tart plums and the sweet dough,which the whipped cream just made heavenly.

(Three lbs of Italian prune plums,
pit removed and quartered)

Every recipe I have found on the web for US bakers calls for Italian prune plums for Zwetschgen. They do not have that exquisite tartness that I remember from those backyard Zwetschgen that made the cake of my memory so divine. But since that is all that is readily available, Italian prune plums it shall be.

(Yeast dough - pre-rise)

For the yeast dough I fell back on an old favorite. I was afraid it would be too puffy, and I knew the flavor isn't quite how I remember the Ur-Zwetschgenkuchen's because I have made it with apples a bunch of time (oh, SO good, btw), but I know I really like it, and none of the others were calling out for me to try them today. Little Bit pretty much did all the kneading while I cleaned up; all I had to do was give it a couple of squeezes to catch a few rough spots. Wow!

(Plums onto the dough)

So, my helper girl took her bath during the big dough rise, and afterward she was in charge of putting all the plum quarters on the dough base. She used every one of them, all three pounds. Then the second rise while we ate dinner, and into the oven while I walked the dog. Egg was kind enough to keep an eye on our crazy oven then. See, the temperature control on it is, to put it kindly, unreliable. Set the dial for anything under 300F and you're usually fine, but anything above that, and the beast just keeps on heating unless you constantly dial it back, and then back up a smidge, and then back down as it races for 550F+, and so on. I discovered this a while back when I started baking bread - set the oven to preheat to 475F and came back to find it approaching 650F - YIKES!



After thwarting the oven's efforts at temperature-related sabotage, I present this slab of delight:

Yes, the edges are "rustic", and no, it's not the Zwetschgenkuchen of my memories, but oh, it is indeed wonderful and luscious and satisfying (with just a little whipped cream).

Still in between

Still here at the in between house. Six months later, I might add. I think we are real estate impaired. No room for a real Christmas tree, so I bought a 4 ft tabletop tinsel tree. A purple one. With purple lights. My MIL has just about come unglued. Little Bit LOVES it. She wins.

Here are two little projects, for Little Bit, naturally:

I made up Molly the blue dog on the fly. With my very limited crochet skills, I am pretty pleased with how she turned out. Little Bit was the creative director for this one. Stripey Cat is from a kit that Little Bit talked me into buying for her when we were supposed to be Christmas shopping for other people. Little Bit insisted that she needed a hair bow, though, which was not included in the kit. Stripey Cat has almost supplanted Dora as the most favored toy, but not quite.

I have one of those, but I don't know where it is

Chez Squirrel is still the "in between" house (our rental). In the 6 months we have been house hunting, we have found three houses that we liked enough to make offers. On the first we just didn't come to mutually agreeable terms with the seller, so no hard feelings there. The last two went sour due to stupid seller tricks. The last one really hurt; the place was damn near perfect. 

When we moved into the in between house, I was not expecting to still be here now, and I selected the boxes to unpack accordingly. Throughout the time we've been here, I periodically have needed something I know I own, but it is boxed away somewhere and stored in one of three locations: the attic, the Pod or the storage locker back near the old house. The longer we stay here, the more frequently often that happens. It is becoming a running joke for me to then say that I know I have whatever it is that I need or am looking for, but I just don't know where it is. And now that cooler weather is approaching, included in that are jackets and long sleeved shirts. 

The Pod and the storage locker in our old hometown are beyond help, but the attic, well, I've put that off long enough. This weekend's project is to sort and organize the boxes, and maybe I'll find a jacket or two before the first real cold snap of the season.

All clean and nice

Stinky dog is no longer stinky! (Poor mutt, he hates baths.) We used the self-service pet bath around the corner - no clearing the drain of dog hair, no smelly dog towels to wash, no kneeling on the tile bathroom floor!

Sadly, the rescue kitties for adoption were not there this morning, so Little Bit's enjoyment of the trip was diminished, but she rallied her spirits at the sight of the soapy dog. Neither dog nor daughter enjoyed the hurricane force doggie dryer, however.

Interweave Knits

I am trying, I really am trying to find something to make me want to renew my subscription to Interweave Knits. I love print magazines. I also prefer double pointed needles over magic loop too.

I hung on through the last couple years when practically every piece already looked awkward or ill-fitting on the models. Ok, so IK wasn't unique there; just look around. And I get that they are trying to capture a hipper younger demographic than I belong to. But dammit, if I am going to spend the time, money and effort to knit something, I want it to not look dated before I even finish it and be reasonably flattering. 

The Fall 2013 issue landed in my mailbox yesterday, and I opened it with both excitement and trepidation. On first perusal it looks promising. My three-and-a-half-year-old had other ideas for me last night. Only a couple looks where the garment is poised to do something odd if the model moves. So, do I give the new editor the benefit of the doubt? Dunno yet. 

GRANITE!!! (and Bradford pear trees)

If I see another house with cheap cabinets in a crappy layout that the seller just went ahead and had some granite countertops installed and is calling it an "upgrade", I could just scream! Why, oh why do they do that?!!? 

It's as bad as builders sticking two Bradford pear trees in the front yard and then saying the lot has nice shade trees. Once they get any size on them, the damn things just split in half during a garden-variety summer thunderstorm.

Bumper stickers

I have gotten more good reactions to my bumper stickers in the two weeks we have been back in HSV than I ever did in BHM.

Several times I have seen other drivers point and smile, and this afternoon as I was walking back to my car from the grocery store, there was an elderly couple leaning down to read them and laughing. I asked them which one they liked, and she smiled and said, "Both!"

Then as I loaded my bags, across the parking aisle, a "country boy" called over, "Just what do you do with them pointy sticks?" 

He seemed a bit disappointed when I told him hand knitting.

So, thank you, Tonni, and thank you, Penzey's*, for getting a few happy little conversations started!

* www.Penzeys.com (haven't figured out hyperlinks using this app yet)

The Squirrel is looking for a new Chez

Yep, we moved. We listed the old Chez Squirrel, figuring that it would take a while to sell, what with real estate still being in the doldrums in our area, and then WHAM! An offer the next freakin' day. And a contract the day after that. And closing a month and a half later. 

Just my opinion, but moving during the Alabama summer sucks. It is real estate silly season up here, amplifying an already more robust market than in BHM. We weren't able to find a new place that we liked enough back in HSV in time, so we are two weeks settled into a rental house (the same one we lived in 13 years ago). Squeezing 2500 sq ft into less than 1500 sq ft has been an interesting exercise. For the first week the house looked like it belonged on one of those shows about hoarders, but I have vanquished most of the cardboard boxes to the attic or the storage Pod in the backyard. The furniture arrangement is creative, and the yarn stash is staying boxed up for the duration. Creative juices are not flowing right now.

The best thing about the rental house, other than it being available when we needed it and the terms under which we have it, is the old gas stove in the kitchen. It looks like a total piece of crap, is a PITA to clean, and the upper oven doesn't work, but those dinky-looking burners are dreamy to cook on (well, the two front ones anyway, can't really reach the back ones). I learned to enjoy cooking on this stove, and the schmancy dual fuel, sealed burner one I bought for the old Chez.

: p

Two year old + lip balm = laundry nightmare

Waxy lip balm all over the sheets. MY bed, not hers. I think she ate some of it too.

I'm back....

Sometimes, when everything is getting too hectic and I don't know where to start, just dicing up an onion and lightly browning it in some olive oil hits my reset button.

Well, what do you know...

...the blog isn't quite abandoned. Everything, knitting included, has taken a back seat to the biggest project I have ever undertaken. Here are a couple hints:



















Yep, it's a baby! The furry children Chili the dog and Brrp the cat (formerly Muffin Top) have a sister!She's feisty! Isn't she just the most perfect baby ever?!!?

While I was pregnant, all my creative energy seemed to be utterly sapped, went into making the baby, I suppose. The two items above are two of the three handknits I was able to finish for my own child. Classic case of the cobbler's children having no shoes. Luckily, some of her "fiber aunties" stepped up.

Now that she's here, knitting (and cooking and eating and showering and so on) are utterly secondary to her (lack of) schedule. I've been working on another mostly stockinette baby hat for several weeks now with SLOOOW progress and haven't even started the socks I want to make for my rock star of an obstetrician.

So, the question is, how much does the baby take over the blog?

Hitting the sock wall?

Noro - I have a love-hate relationship with that brand of yarn. Love the way they do color; lots of other yarns try and even come close, but Noro's amazing colorways are still unequalled. Hate their tendency to leave a lot of vegetable matter in the yarn and how many skeins are chock full of knots, often resulting in abrupt color transitions. So I approached the skein of Silk Garden Sock with a mix of hope and trepidation, took it home anyway and split the skein.

Noro - fickle-hearted Noro! Everything started out so promisingly. As I split the skein in half, I didn't find a single knot in the entire skein! And hardly any VM either! Almost too good to be true - could this really be Noro? I cast on for waffle weave socks, having seen someone else's wonderful results with that yarn/pattern combination. In retrospect, she might have been using Kureyon Sock though. My attempt at them with Silk Garden Sock was a bust - wrong gauge when knit comfortably, nightmare to knit on needles small enough to make gauge. My second attempt was with a herringbone pattern, which was unsatisfying for a different reason - too much effort for no real visual impact. The plain cuff ribbing looked nicer that the herringbone zigzags.

Noro, oh, Noro, is that all you aspire to be - a plain pair of ribbed socks? Maybe you'll reconsider while you cool your heels in the sock yarn stash for now. I think I'll go work on something else right now.


[P.S. Kitty looks like she's here to stay. She's made herself quite at home, and we're calling her Muffin Top. She's a bit of a pudge.]

Pretty

Hats - almost as much fun as socks. Here's the latest, and quite lovely, I think.

Pattern: Selbu Modern
Yarn: Koigu Premium Merino
Needles: US2 and US0

Koigu's colors, especially the Painter's Palette blends, are just stunning. I have a bunch in my stash, two skeins per color, bought with the intention of making them into socks. Well, in the meantime, it's just not my favorite sock yarn anymore, mostly because without any nylon it doesn't wear quite as well. So, what to do with it? This hat is one solution.

Small needle projects are fun when you want a lot of knitting in a nice portable package. I cast on for this in anticipation of some quality waiting room time at my annual appointment with the ob/gyn; the last few years, I've had some seriously long waits because of someone else going into labor. Since I was prepared for that, of course I got to go right in this time. The small needles only bugged me at the very end, as in the very last two decrease rounds, working with one color on each hand on double points. That was a major pain in the a**.

I'm old school; I like my double points and just haven't found the love for magic loop. But I did have an epiphany on those last two hateful rounds: working on double points while carrying yarn on the right hand sucks. I normally knit continental (yarn on the left hand), but the second color has to go somewhere. Every time I made a stitch with the right hand yarn, I had to let go of the right hand needle to "throw" the yarn around the stitch. A minor annoyance when there are a bunch of other stitches still on it to hold it in place; a nightmare when there are just a few, and the needle wants to slip away or twist in the breeze or otherwise generally misbehave. So, yes, I now see where "double point desperation" might come from, especially if you knit English.

[Kitty is still here. I think Egg is in love, despite his allergies. We agreed though that I should post signs in the neighborhood today, because it is bad karma to steal someone's pet.]

A new addition (maybe)

Look what showed up at the kitchen door this morning! We're evaluating each other for compatibility.

Right now she's hanging out on Egg's desk while he doing the taxes. I think she's working her kitty magic on him. The dog is super excited; he likes cats. Kitty is less enthusiastic about him but surprisingly tolerant. She's only had to slap him twice so far.

Oh, look, more socks

Socks are the knitting equivalent of comfort food for me. If I just need to knit on something, a simple pair of ribbed socks fits the bill. I can work on them without having to concentrate too much, other than paying a little attention while doing the heel. It's knitting on autopilot. Looking at my output for the last few months, I've been on autopilot a lot.

So it was with this latest pair. I meant to reverse the twist of the cable on the second sock, but because I was knitting on autopilot, I didn't remember that detail until I was halfway to the heel. Oh, well...

Autopilot Socks
Pattern: none
Yarn: Trekking XXL
Needles: US2 for cuff, US0 for the rest

Hat weather

Another cold front, another hat.

Pattern: Le Slouch (Wendy Bernard's Knit and Tonic blog)
Yarn: Plymouth Yarn's Baby Alpaca Brush in color 500 (black), ca. 160yds.
Needles: US7 and US8
Mods: Smaller gauge so I cast on a few more stitches, minor modifications to the crown shaping

Nothing says Sunday like a little attempted phone fraud

The phone rang today, and when I checked the caller ID, it showed our name listing and number. Eyebrows raised, I answered. On the other end was a recorded female voice saying that our account had been locked because of potentially fraudulent activity identified by Central State Bank's fraud prevention department. It then gave the option of pressing 1 to unlock the account or pressing 2 to hear the recording again. Not sure that I heard it right the first time, especially the bank's name, I pressed 2. It played the same message. By now I had Egg listening in too, and he went ahead and pressed 1 to "unlock the account". When the recording asked that we enter our account number, we hung up, suspicions confirmed: phone phishing attempt.

I want to disinfect my phone now.

(That generic bank name was a nice touch. I googled it and found lots of banks with that as the base of their names, usually Central State Bank of Someplace.)