Saturday, October 23, 2010

Man Cannot Live on Bread Alone #2

Hi everyone!  Can you believe I made those?  They were really yummy.  Turns out I can bake bread.  You see, for once in my life the problem did not occur because of operator error.

I had a hard time diagnosing it, though, because bread machines are so fickle.  The instruction manuals, er, I mean, recipe books, are very insistent... even threatening in some cases.  (You know, all-caps bold-face warnings, such as:  IF YOU DON'T PUT THE INGREDIENTS INSIDE IN THE PROPER ORDER YOUR BREAD WILL TURN OUT GNARLY LIKE A WITCHES' FACE AND YOUR MACHINE WILL EXPLODE.)

Anyway, here's the deal.  And it will seem tangential, so stay with me.

There's two types of mechanical engineering students (that scientists have identified thus far).  There are the ones who've grown up around machines, taking stuff apart and putting it back together, greasy hands and always tinkering, and they're getting a degree so they can get paid to do what they already do... all of the time.  Then, there's the ones who knew they wanted to do engineering, and knew they wanted to get a job... but have never touched a motor and are pretty sure they couldn't decipher between an amplifier and an inductor.  I'm spilling my guts here, but I'm definitely the second category.

Lucky for me, I have lots of friends who fall in category one.  Like my brother-in-law.  He took my misbehaving bread machine and had it running like a humming bird thirty minutes later.  (Uhh... whatever that phrase means.  Is it real?  You know what I meant, anyway.)

The moral of the story is:  I had to make bruschetta, so (in the mean time) I baked two french loaves.  Which weren't too shabby for my first time ever.  I mean, look at that photo.  Are you salivating?  I am, and I'm not even hungry right now.  Mmmm.

Monday, October 11, 2010

Week's Recap & Thoughts

Conversation while brushing our teeth last night:

Me:  Do I smell like boy?
Hubby:  (quizzical glance)
Me:  ...I had to borrow your shower gel...
Hubby: (after sniffing me) You smell good.
Me: (a few moments later) You didn't answer my question.   I asked if I smelled like a boy.
Hubby:  (grins.)  Babe... you gotta understand this.  There are only two kinds of smells for guys:  good and bad.  I said you smell good, there's no category for "boy".


I learned something new-ish this week.  I don't really like eggplant.  I mean, I know it's not a common favorite food anyway (secretly, or not so much, I'm kind of bummed, because I usually like usual things).  I made Baba Ghanouj (middle-eastern roasted eggplant dip) for a par-tay this weekend, along with hummus and feta cheese dip.  I apologize to everyone who ate it.  Becca said it was better with carrots that chips (I think she was trying to make me feel better).

Moral of the story?  Listen to mom.  She always said you should never bring new things to parties, which could probably translate to me not making eggplant dip and then trying to get other people to eat it.


Dear Inventor of (Baking) Parchment Paper,

I want to shake your hand.



Dear Ray's Apple Market,

Thank you for the most inexpensive apples in town (you know, those 99c Braeburn apples... seriously, you're the best).



October vs. November

October -
Halloween, Candy Corn, Red  & Yellow (& crunchy) Leaves, Silly Costumes, Caffeine Addiction Recovery Month, National Squirrel Awareness Month, Our Bi-Month-iversary

November -
National Peanut Butter Lover's Month, Leftover Halloween Candy Sale, Thanksgiving/Fall Break, Family Stories Month, National Novel Writing Month, Sweet Potato Awareness Month, National Bible Week (21-28th), Our Tri-Month-iversary


Now, off to use those apples to make Apple Spice Cake, which I saw on Joy the Baker (food blog... by the way, I looooove food blogs, especially with pretty photography), who read it in The Sweet Life.