Well, no, we don't NEED a third one...

but could you turn away such a happy face?

Superior help for hard working hands

Here's a useful little thingy.

My hands are wrecked this week. Completely. It started with a peeler gouge while I was making 250 poached pears. It went on to include some fabulously ugly blistered burns from tuna oil from the guy next to me on the line (Harumph! Indeed!) and some innumerable bumps, dings, cracks and overall dryness all thanks to what one of the sous chefs refers to as "the worst week every year" - and that's counting December. Now, I wouldn't lay claim to any vanity where my hands are concerned, but well, I am a girl. So this is one of my favorite fixes.

In a bowl mix a couple spoonfuls of plain yogurt or cream and a spoonful of honey. Add some ground almonds and a bit of rosewater if you've got it. Slather that on your hands, especially the backs of them, and throw on a pair of powder-free latex gloves. Go about your business for about ten minutes. Toss the gloves, rinse the hands in cool water. You could go all out at this point and moisturize your nails with almond oil and stuff like that but that's all up to you.

It really really helps and is way cheaper than some schmancy hand cream. Also, it tastes good. Don't look at me like that, it does.

When did thread get so expensive? It should be 75 cents.

I have already discussed my feelings on sewing. Hemming is almost worse than sewing, because hemming is something I have to do, rather than something I am doing by choice.

Now, let us discuss chef pants. Chef pants are designed 1. for men, 2. to be washed and worn a gazillion times until they fall apart, 3. out of enough fabric so that in the event they catch fire, the actual pant is nowhere near skin and finally 4. for men. Given these factors every pair of pants I get for work I need to hem. Lots.

I got two new pairs of pants this week to replace ones with holes that were potentially against the company's HR policies. So now, I must hem.

Can you tell I'm trying to delay?

I hate hemming.

Happy Easter and Vitamin C

When I asked if anyone planning to be at Easter dinner has any problems with lemon I'm not sure the message really got across. We'll see, in a few hours, how the uninitiated make out with Bon Appetit's Gingered Lemon Meringue Pie. It's tart...I mean, REALLY tart (and I tone it down and make it sweeter than the recipe calls). Kathy introduced us to this recipe along with the sour-puss faces that it draws many years ago. It's a once in a while treat.

Maybe the lemon juice will get rid of the cold holding the whole family hostage, me with laryngitis.

Does my desire to celebrate a mathematical constant make me a nerd?

So tomorrow is pi day (March 14th, get it? celebrate at 1:59?), and, not being the imaginative sort, I like to celebrate pi day with pie. Last year I made pie for every meal, but I am just not feeling that ambitious this year, so I settled on making two pies and bringing them into work. I decided on an old school mixed berry pie (read: I couldn't pick between cherry and blueberry, so I just threw both in there, and some blackberries to make it seem intentional), cornstarch thickened, and crust from scratch (of course, adoxograph would never forgive me if I did otherwise. For that matter, I would never forgive myself if I did otherwise, so it kind of works out).

That pie happened like this:

First came crust assembly, following a recipe adoxograph gave me about a gazillion months ago. I always have trouble with pie crusts because I have hot hands, and the butter wants to go all melty. It probably doesn't help that I am impatient.
While I was letting the dough rest (have to give the starches time to hydrate, man!), I prepped the filling, which was just frozen fruit, a little butter, a little salt, about a quarter cup of sugar, almond extract, and that corn starch I mentioned earlier.Oh yeah. And there's a graham cracker crust back there. Ignore that for now.

Once the filling was prepped, I rolled out and blind baked the bottom crust. While the blind baking happened, I rolled out the top crust. Then the blind baking was done, and I filled the pie...
...then placed the top crust and cut the thematically appropriate vent. SYMBOLIC!
That went into the oven, allowing me to focus on the other pie.

Oh, the other pie!

See, a few weeks ago, I had an idea, which is always a dangerous thing. And not just any idea, mind. A pie idea. Or piedea, I suppose. And it was a majestic piedea. See, it's Easter, and Easter means Peeps. Peeps are marshmallows, right? And if you'll recall from my thingaday posts, I'd been making toaster oven s'mores. Do you see where I am going with this?

Yeah, that's right. It's an Easter S'more Peep Massacre pie.

So you already saw the graham cracker crust resting idly alongside the berry filling, but here's another shot of that, for fun. I also made a chocolate custard while the dough for the other pie hydrated (no action shots on that; haven't yet worked out how to stir constantly and take a photo simultaneously). That cooled while the berry pie was baking, and then I proceeded to fill the graham cracker crust with the custard. Then came the Peeps. I bought four colors, and arranged them on top of the custard in the pie (oh, and check the completed berry pie. NICE).They look so innocent.
I started wondering whether they knew what was about to happen next. It was about at this point when I started laughing hysterically.
See, here's the thing: it's not a s'more if the marshmallow isn't toasted.

Thank goodness my dear friend was willing to loan me his kitchen torch.Note: Peeps do catch fire, just as you'd expect. Also those freaky brown dot eyeballs are not nearly as sturdy as I thought they would be.I have to say, I feel a little bad for melting their tiny faces off. But it had to be done. For science.

Scooped you again, Catch

Yeah, that was so a goal for this year.

At least it's an excellent template if I do decide to go and do it in granny square.

Hey, when did this whole March thing happen?

I hate daylight savings time. I predict that everything I make this week will be surly. And that makes me happy. Yes, that is my second pink surly shrinky cake. The first one broke and I can't find it. But hey, rubber stamps and shrinky dinks? Way cool...

If I had an accent...

...I'd have been doing those Geico commercials.

Oh well, even platyhippos need love: