Take a breather...

Sewing is addictive and at times annoying. After completing a skirt that is just all together funky looking, I decided to pack up the sewing machine and store it in the closet for a few days, or weeks, but certainly not months. It is a learning process, and I find myself being more patient with my students when learning double digit multiplication, because I get the same frustrated look on my face when trying to sew in a zipper. Mom just informed me today you need a zipper foot to sew one on! Stupid pattern didn't mention that. I didn't want to put my machine up on a bitter note, so I made a baby bib for my imaginary baby...or one of my cousin's youngin's.
Another reason I'm contemplating putting sewing aside is because I want to focus on crocheting a hat with really long ear flaps you can use as a scarf, and I got to get going. My March issue of Martha Stewart just arrived full of flowers, gardens, and preserving recipes. I am anticipating spring's arrival because I can't wait to get my hands dirty in my parent's garden. Apartment living is affordable and easy, but nature isn't as accessible.
School was canceled again today, fourth time this week, and even though I am regretting all the work we will have to make up for, I am very grateful for a restful break. It's raining outside, my husband is sleeping next to me on the couch, and I have had time to get away from the consuming life of a school teacher.

My First Big Disaster

If I didn't have a full time job I wouldn't get so impatient and rushed to complete a project. Last night I was frantically following the unclear, unspecific directions on the pattern (curse those cheap Walmart patterns!) trying to get my skit finished. I knew the waste band was going to be too small, and that if I didn't properly iron the gathered sides then it would be a disaster! I should have listened to what I was thinking. I spent a good thirty minutes with a seam ripper tugging at tiny stitches, flustered and ready to give up. I haven't touched the skit since. I'm going to mom...I'm in need of some guidance. What are mothers for?

By placing the skirt to the side, I was able to focus on other things, like baking some chocolate almond biscotti. The angry chicken blog I am obsessed with has really turned me into a book purchasing fend. I bought The Craft of Baking, which I used to make the biscotti. I'm really impressed with it. I also bought Make Your Place Affordable and Sustainable and The Herbal Home Remedy Book. I'm really not allowed to buy one more book from Amazon for the rest of the year.

Not only have I been purchasing books, but I recently spent an hour looking at Fabric.com for vintage fabrics. What do I need vintage fabrics for!?! I'm screwing up Walmart muslin! I saw that most were low in stock and just had to buy them. My favorite was a fabric called Paris in the Springtime. NPR was giving a free trip to Paris for "you and a sweetheart." Matt and I would be in heaven in France. The way they look at food as being a part of who they are is something Matt and I really relate to. We joked that if Sarah Palin ever gets into some sort of federal office, then we're on the first flight over to live under Parisian bridges. We're planning a trip for 2015. We're saving money, but I have a feeling that will go toward student loans and babies in the future. We just might be able to do it, if I stop buying books and fabrics online!

Other things on my mind:
I respect President Obama so much for his Q&A with Republicans. He renews my faith in politicians. Anybody wonder why Fox didn't broadcast it? Hmm...I wonder why.

The Hobbit- I'm currently rereading this great tale and have decided that Matt and I are closely related to hobbits. The food obsession, the need to surround yourself with comfort and friends, bright clothes, hairy feet, small stature. We're hobbits. I'm okay with being a hobbit. I'm not a tall, mysterious elf. I'm a life loving hobbit.

A Rare Day

Snow days are so rare here that when one comes along I seem to take advantage of every minute. All the white causes some bizarre energy. As much as I love snow, I have to disagree with Matt when he suggest we move to a place where you have to shovel your car out a pile of snow to go to work. We cherish the snow better around these parts anyway. This has been the first day where I don't feel puzzled at where the time has gone. I made cinnamon rolls for breakfast, threaded my sewing machine all by myself, sewed a wallet, took a walk outside with Matt, and made a chocolate cake with a homemade marshmallow topping. Today I tackled things have been too scared to do in the past. Snow is sort of magical that way.
I love that Matt and I are both learning something together. No Matt hasn't picked up sewing, but as I hunch over my machine cursing, Matt is plucking his banjo. I was worried when we got these grand Christmas presents that we were being over ambitious and would ultimately neglect them. I am happy to say we've both made progress and have learned a great deal.

Sew Annoying

I like clothes a lot. I spend a lot of money on clothes, too much actually. The problem is that I buy things liking them about as much as I like a peanut and butter sandwich. I place it in the closet and pull it out reluctantly. I came to the realization I am not defenseless against the sad trends of current affordable clothing. I could learn to sew! I could create personalized, to my taste, works of art!

It's an exhilarating thought, but after completing my first project, an apron for my mother-in-law, my dreams of owning a one of a kind wardrobe withered.

I've taken the advice from some pro-sewers. Practice, practice, and read, read, read. Sew-U Build by Wendy and Bend the Rules Sewing by Amy Karol are the two books that are helping me gain valuable knowledge. I really like both of their styles and my next projects will be from each of these books. From Sew-U I'm going to attempt an "easy" a-line skirt, and from Bend the Rules a wallet. Though both are labeled as "Beginner/Easy" I'm not going to get my hopes up.

My mom found a box of old patterns and gave them to me. Question: Why do people stop creating the older they get?

Apples

For me fall triggers one thing, the desire to pull cinnamon from the cabinets and place nutmeg against the grater.   I’ll miss the versatile berries which were perfect in any baked good, but now there was something new in town: shinny, speckled apples.  Fall’s fruit, Johnny’s fruit, the fruit of America’s past time.

Local apples were the cheapest fresh fruit at the market, and I knew it was time to make my very first, very traditional, very American apple pie.  I found a very fancy recipe for French Apple Pie, complete with a rum custard filling and almond sugar topping.  Not the red, white and blue pie I pictured, but I’ve never been that patriotic anyway.   Red, white and blue is Toby Keith singing “We’ll put a boot up your ass,” right?

It was the longest ordeal I’ve ever tackled in the kitchen.  I patted myself on the back after pulsing together flour, butter, and cold water to create a crust, which one could call easy as pie.  I placed the pie crust in the fridge to chill and started on the custard, slicing apples, and making the crumbs.  An hour passed, I pulled out the crust and realized it needed to be blind baked, then cooled.  Blast! The apples were turning brown, the custard needed to be put in the fridge, and I pulled out dried beans and foil. 

When everything was finally assembled, I placed the pie proudly into the oven at 375.  Time passed.  Where was the delicious smell that is supposed to be wafting through the house?  The pie came out.  Slices were served.  Something very important was missing.   The taste of rum, cream, eggs, and almonds were present, but the apple was lost. 

What a waste of time, and in cooking, what a waste of hope. 

A few weeks later I spied apples browning and rotting on the counter.  I had sworn off pies for reasons described in the above, but what about a crisp.  In the time that it takes to watch an episode of Saved by the Bell, I had an apple crisp in the oven making smells far more comforting and alluring than the une tarte aux pommes.  Within minutes the thin slices of apples had produced sweet juices mingled with cinnamon, nutmeg, and brown sugar.  Oats, pecans, and butter were a much better accompaniment than almonds and cream. 

What was learned in this autumn month? No more pie and lots more crisps.  

Pride and Joy

I pondered if cutting into the small, rock hard pumpkin, removing the slimy seeds, and placing it in the oven for a hour was going to be better than the stuff Libby puts into her cans. The process seemed more daunting then it actually was. The most trying part proved to be getting this thick skinned gourd to crack open. Mom daringly placed her hands on the knife, while I hammered away with our large meat tenderizer.
Scooping out the hundreds of white seeds brought back memories of carving pumpkins from a young age, and in previous years with a handsome bearded fellow. Finally, I placed the halves, wrapped in foil in the oven. After an hour and a half at 350 they were a soft as mashed potatoes. All that is left to do, is to scope the soft flesh and mash, mash, mash.
I used Ruby Bowman's tried and true pumpkin pie recipe. A small white haired lady, who went to my grandmother's Lutheran Church, and worked at Chick-fil-a until she passed away at the age of 90 something.
Usually, my pumpkin pies come out like pumpkin pudding; mushy with little texture and no form. The consistency is sometimes hard to swallow. I cut the first slice and it came out as neat as if I was slicing a piece of cake. There was no oozz of pumpkin filling. A smile spread across my face. Could this be the perfect pumpkin pie I had been searching for? Will this be the recipe I turn to year after year? The one where I proudly carry my pie to the Coble Thanksgiving get-together? As I took the first bite I nodded. Yes, this pumpkin pie was all that I had hoped it would be.

Ruby Bowman's Pumpkin Pie (with some minor adjustments)

2 cups fresh pumpkin
1 cup sugar
1 egg, beaten
1 Tbl. flour
1 1/2 tsp. cinnamon
a dash of allspice
freshly grated nutmeg
pinch of salt
3/4 stick of butter melted
1 tsp. vanilla

Pour into a prepared pie crust and bake at 350 for 45-50 minutes.

One day in late October...

I decided it was time to experiment with the canning process. A little late I know. Mom and Dad have long canned the tomatoes and beans. Unfortunately, I missed that lesson in the art of canning. Though I was not in our kitchen seeing this process with my own to eyes, I did manage to read several articles about the canning process, and it seemed simple enough.

Finally, on the first autumn like weekend of the month, I had found my excuse to can something. Passed from one family to another, and finally to ours, a large plastic bag of muscadines and scuppernongs had made their way to our refrigerator. For anyone who is unfamiliar with these fruits, they are native to North Carolina. They have a thick, tough skin and small seeds. As for eating them fresh, I cannot stomach the consistency of the gooey flesh, and spitting out the slippery seeds. However, their aroma is another story. These strong fragrant grapes remind me of a sweet wine.

Luckily, Mom was doing her typical Saturday cleaning rituals and was around to answer the few questions I had. I only used her expertise sparingly, because creating a jam was quite simple. Once the fruit juices have jelled, into a smooth, sweet consistency, you have the rewarding pleasure of pouring it into a sanitized small glass jar, and sealing it with a tin lid. After the jar has cooled, a loud pop will occur and you will know you have successfully canned something.

Recipe (I used as a guide from my dear friend Martha Stewart)

Muscadine and Scuppernong Jam

Makes one small jar

A large bag of musacdines and scuppernongs (2-3 pounds)

The juice of half a lemon

1 ½ cups of granulated sugar

(That’s it)

Preheat you oven to 300 degrees and place one small Mason jar in to sanitize.

In a large pot dump your rinsed grapes in and add the juice of the lemon. I like to take the end of a knife and stab at each segment of the lemon, making sure I don’t miss any juice. Boil on high for 10 or more minutes until most of the fruits have burst and released their liquids.

Start to boil a small pot of water and place one seal and one lid in the water.

Once the juices have all been forced out of the grapes, place small batches of the fruit into a sieve and separate the flesh from the juices. Return the juice to the pot and stir in the sugar. Bring to a boil and then simmer until thickened. This takes ten minutes or so.

Retrieve the Mason jar from the oven and pour in jam. Remove the seal and lid from the boiling water and place on a clean napkin. Wipe of the top of the jar to make sure no food particles remain. Place lid on top and seal. It will be very hot and as it cools down you should hear a pop.