The Elephant Show

... I am slowly going crazy, 1-2-3-4-5-6--Switch.
Crazy going slowly am I, 6-5-4-3-2-1-switch.

The term will be officially over in seventeen hours, when my philosophy paper needs to be in the doctor's hands.

I'm going out of my mind.

I've locked myself out of the kitchen.

I'm on page one. Of 10. Even though I've been writing since I finished my physiology test at 2 today.

I do believe I'm going to go ride my bike to get my hair cut. Then, there will only be 14 hours left and maybe I'll write a little bit faster.

Some things I love right now.

This kitten face.

Turning off the heater and lighting a fire, with all of this wood.

Starting said fire, all by myself, even if it takes 10 minutes.

Letting said fire burn down to embers... then putting more wood on it and watching it ignite with my breath.

A fridge full of leftovers, still, one week after the feast.

My incredible classmates.

Finals week, and how that means I can sleep in, wear my pjs all day long and pretend like life is for dawdling--and then cramming in the 11th hour.

Finals week, and how that means I'm almost 1/12th of the way to becoming a doctor.

Craft blogs. My new favorite procrastination distraction.

Namaste cookie mix, with butterscotch chips, chocolate chips, coconut and rolled oats, just like I used to make the "real deal"

The snowflakes that fell this morning.

Not for the faint hearted.

I have a bad case of the creeped-out crawlies. You know the ones. The goosebumpy, spiderweby, bugs-on-me tingly ones; the sight every little speck with a gasp, and approach with caution, poking with stick or fork or toe until it's been determined that said speck is in fact a speck--a part of a leaf, a crumble of turkey, your housemate's daughter's cereal--and not the goosebumpy, spiderweby, bugs-on-me thing you were hoping it wasn't.


I went to the cupboard for quinoa today. I have some four gallons of turkey broth from last week's feast, and I wanted to use some to boil up a bowl of grains. Grains. I know. But it's finals week, and it's turkey broth, and it's quinoa and--I wanted some.

So I went to the cupboard and started fishing for quinoa. First to the big tupperware full of bulk bags and half-useds. Near the bottom, I spotted a bag of little pearlies so I grabbed it--millet. Darn. But wait--millet with little pieces of sand. Little pieces of sand, and silky looking webs...pale beads of millet sticking to the soft plastic in clumbs... and WORMS! Just writing it sends those shivers back up my spine.

Ok. So worms in the millet. But wait--there were worms in the oats, too. Not just the open bag of rolled oats I used in cookies not three days ago, but in the sealed paint-can of a tin of steel-cut oats. And in the glass jar of rye--I didn't dare open that jar. The top inch was clouded over with web, and the bottom eighth full of telltale crumbles. And in the quinoa. Just barely--but barely enough.

I do believe I was infested with our friend the Indian Meal Moth. Ewwww.

I mean it's cool and everything--the shimmery webs, the way the larvae are these neat little, white, parasitic looking worms who spin as they eat, clumping the grains together as a way of saying "look who's home!" before cocooning into a cranny to morph into the triangular gray moths I found in the deep crevices of some of my bags--but EWWWWWWWWWW.

This prompted a full-scale investigation. My findings? Gross!


The the lentils, the coconut, the instant oatmeal (pathetic, I know, but I really was hoping these were clean). The raisins. The raisins were probably the worst. Hell, I even had one in my parchment paper box (I'm so glad I checked).

Graciously, I think my newly purchased bags of Namaste pizza crust and muffin mixes were spared. There was a wriggling worm, wrapped in its own web and tucked into the paper bag crease of one--but no evidence of anything getting inside.


I guess it had been a long time coming--I'd needed to purge a lot of that from my life, but didn't have the heart to toss it and most of it wasn't donatable. Some of those boxes and bags traveled with me from California, two years ago--a few of them lived in my dorm room for even a year before that. The pantry looks a lot better. I just wish I hadn't had to throw away so much food!

and I kinda wish I had some quinoa to boil in my turkey broth.

Thanksgiving Picture Story

A few photos from our Thanksgiving


we named her Donna



that's my little sister on the right. SO HAPPY she could come up to visit
for the week. Donna isn't all the way cooked here, but we needed to send
Mom a picture she could print and put up for the family Thanksgiving
going on in California. Check out that pile of roasted Brussel's Sprouts!


cohosts extraordinaries: Mamie, Tiffany and me.
We're pretty excited the turkey is ALL the way cooked when we wanted it to be!



It's amazing what you can do in a 10x12 foot space with a little
creativity. Dinner for 10 (party for 15), on sheet wood and
overturned recycling bins.





22 1/4 pounds of turkey--for five meat eaters
We carved it with our fingers.


(finger food turkey fest)


Leslie, Kelly, Laura--reading the dish cards to know
that their food is allergen-free.


We are thankful for this food.
We are thankful for our school.
We are thankful for each other.
I am so blessed to have such a family away from family.



Two badasses in the kitchen. Nolan had been a vegetarian
for 10 years before he met our turkey, Donna.
Then he went on to eat an entire drumstick.

An Autumnal Feast

This Thanksgiving, I'm hosting.

Well, me and a couple of my girlfriends. And my little sister, by default, because she's coming to visit (!!!!!!).

This year, like last year, I'm feeding friends who don't have families in town.

An Orphans Thanksgiving.

A feast of Thanksgiving.

And this year, like last year, everything is going to be free of wheat, dairy, sugar and soy. We've cut construction paper dish signs so that people can mark their ingredients and whether their food is veg or not; I know that I, for one, am excited that I'll be able to fill my plate and my belly and not get sick.

We've ordered a free range turkey which I'm brining and roasting it as per Mr. Alton Brown (he hasn't let me down yet, and people are still talking about last year's bird--so let's do it again!). Christa is going to assemble the ginger, tangerine, cranberry relish. Bob's Red Mill's mix is giving up the cornbread (oh, so good, really), and we're rounding out our part of the meal with a green bean casserole-inspired mushroom and roasted brussel's sprouts dish (topped with lard-fried shallots) and a butternut squash smash, reminiscent of sweet potatoes and enriched with a splash of Grand Marnier. Oh yes--and this pumpkin pie, sans crust. And hot mulled cider with spiced rum to make it extra warming. And- okay.

Leslie is making vegan lentil loaf, vegetarian gravy and something yummy of broccoli and rice.

Tiffany is making beet soup in acorn squash, green beans tossed with meyer lemon and toasted pine nuts and her yummy gluten-free banana cookies. Oh, and honey butter I'm going to want to eat off a spoon.

Mamie is on mashed potatoes.

There's more, too. More friends, more food. We're expecting 15 or so over the course of the night; 10 for sitting down to dinner, I think?

It is SO FUN to take this over the top. To stay up late looking at recipes. To ponder my utensils and serving dishes instead of physiology. To load up with what is going to be too much food, and feel a little guilty and excessive about it.... and feel so, so thankful that this food, and these friends, and that night are a possibility.

Lardo

I borrowed my friend Greg's beer brewing pot. It's big. Big enough for my current projects, which include rendering lard, brining a turkey and making some serious broth.

Today's adventure? Caul fat. Shimmery, lacy, globule-speckled caul fat.

I bought 15 pounds of it from my favorite pork man a couple of weeks back. My plan was to render it into lard... but for what uses? Apart from seasoning my cast iron pan, I had no idea. It just sounded like fun.

Initially, I thought I should have been more specific and asked for leaf lard, the soft fat similar to what you find in your bacon. Supposedly, that's top quality pastry lard. Despite not eating pastry, that's what I wanted.

Caul fat is much more famous for its place around meats. At the farmer's market, it makes an appearance around Viande Meats' pates. It's the crispy membrane around a crepinette (the new thing-to-do in NYC restaurants, so I hear); it's what holds stuffed roasts together, and what imparts moisture to thick, free range cuts. On the lard scale, it's bottom of the line.

Nevertheless, I had 15 pounds of it and an original plan.... so I cut that lacy membrane into pieces and filled Greg's pot.

I'd read as much as I could google about rendering lard. Of course, most website contradicted all the other website--and none of them wanted to talk about rendering caul. So, I put the pot on the stove and let it do its thang--whatever that was going to be.

Appetizing, huh? I really ought to have taken a picture of the final product--it looked nothing like this. In time, in patience, in heat, this sticky lump melted into a viscous oil and crispy membrane bits. I strained the clear stuff into jars, and mixed what remained with sauteed onions to eat on slices of apple. Yum.

The lard is pristine white, as solid as butter 'cause I keep it in the fridge, but a joy to cook with. I try not to smoke it (I think what I REALLY really wanted was beef suet. Maybe another time?) so I'm not really sauteeing things... but it makes a mean breakfast egg.

And, it did one heck of a job seasoning my cast iron.

Stock Pot

I have 15 pounds of caul fat in my freezer right now. I bought it from my favorite pork man, who assured me he could hook me up when I asked if he had fat I could render into lard. Fifteen pounds of silky, dew-drenched spiderweb looking fat frozen into a solid hunk.

A frozen 15 pound hunk which I full intend to render into tasty and usable lard... just as soon as I find a pot in which to do it, 'cause my 10 inch cast iron skillet just ain't gonna cut it.