Scaling Mt. Serta

We have finally replaced our fifteen year old mattress. It has been with Adam longer than I have. We haven’t completely abandoned our old friend; it is now in the guest room. I am guessing that nobody will mourn the passing of either the air mattress or the twin bed that used to occupy that space.

Our new mattress is, in a word, awesome. We got a Serta Perfect Day and so far it has been living up to its ad-copy. I feel a bit like Goldilocks (minus the B&E and bear threat). This bed is definitely “just right.” I can only hope that it lasts. I have been sleeping much better and it is so comfortable that I regret leaving it in the morning.

As tough as it is to make myself get out of bed, it is getting in it that is the actual challenge. As Adam put it–we finally know the meaning of the phrase “I am going to climb into bed.” This bed is so tall that I almost need a stepstool. Adam can sort of just sit into it, but I actually have to get a leg up and crawl into it. I have to reach down to my nightable and can turn off the light by reaching directly across instead of up. It gives me a whole new perspective and I’m loving it. No buyer’s remorse here.

It is with no regret that I say that it is after 11 pm right now….which means bedtime!

Foiled Again!

Why am I so weak? Why am I so easily seduced by packaging and photography? Apparently, laziness rules my world. Okay, to give myself a bit of slack I will say that it isn’t just convenience that I crave. I think that when I don’t put the brakes on my imagination I get carried away into the fantasy that I create. The Practical and I have only a nodding acquaintance after all.

So what has caused this dark (well, milk chocolate) afternoon of the soul?

Believe it or not, cupcakes.

Yes, cupcakes. Those innocent little bakery treats. I have made cupcakes before and they really aren’t very difficult to pull off. Fussy, maybe, but not exactly something you need formal training to make. So why, when I know that homemade is almost always better, did I think it was a good idea to buy not one, but two different kinds of mixes?

I didn’t buy just any supermarket brand of cupcake mixes. I went “gourmet.” I fell into the trap…surely, they know something that this humble home baker does not. Surely, eleven dollars will lead to the cupcake of my dreams. Look at the perfectly decorated picture on the box. Imagine whipping together this delight in no time. Probably to serve for tea on the veranda: me in my pearls and favorite dress—Adam in a dapper suit. Yeah, right.

I made the first mix weeks ago. The Sprinkles mix came from Williams Sonoma and was packaged with an adorable container that is supposed to hold a single cupcake. I say supposed to because my cupcakes have been too big to put inside it. There goes fantasy number one…sending Adam out with an unmarred sweet treat for his lunch.

I chose the Red Velvet cupcake mix. Red Velvet is delicious, but messy. I think I made it from scratch once, but I am too clumsy to be trusted with that much food coloring. So, what could be better than a mix that has done the hard part? I still made a mess because I got some of the intensely red batter on me, but it was not a red dye bath. Overall, it was an easy dump and add and mix process. The finished cakes were…decent. They were a touch dry and the crumb was so fine that we had to eat them with a fork on a plate. Not exactly optimal cupcake consumption.

The part that I loved was the frosting. The included recipe wasn’t for the traditional frosting, instead it was for a cream cheese frosting. It is ridiculously rich, but so delicious. It is buttery, sweet, and tangy all at once. I saved that recipe and will use it again, though sparingly. This stuff isn’t for the faint of heart. The package also included Sprinkles bakery’s signature decoration: dots. They were indeed very attractive and made the cupcake look kind of professional. Unfortunately, the sugar (or whatever it is made from) is so hard that I think one could break a tooth on it. It didn’t really taste like much either, just a vague sweetness, so it was best removed before eating the cupcake. Cupcakes shouldn’t really require that much preparation before eating.

Ultimately, I rate the cupcake as a “Meh”+. If only the cupcake had lived up to the frosting!

That brings me to today and Ina Garten’s chocolate cupcake mix. This one was purchased at Crate and Barrel and features a lovely photograph on the attractive mix box. This mix includes three separate packages. It is your job to figure out which is which. Not a big deal, really, but sort of indicative of the whole process. If I wanted to fuss I would have made them myself from scratch. This mix requires you to put in part of one package with the butter and then add the rest in batches with water. The frosting requires you to melt a package of chocolate bits, cool, and then incorporate into butter and the contents of the third package. It isn’t difficult but there seem to be a lot of different steps. All of which would be fine…if the finished product paid off.

You might think that the rigamarole would yield a superior product: a gourmet product. In my experience that is not the case. Maybe it was user error because I did overfill the cups a little. However, I think that I don’t bear complete responsibility. The cakes themselves are extremely fragile. They couldn’t even hold up under the frosting before breaking up all over. That sort of nixes the possibility for in-hand eating. The frosting itself was oddly insipid. It tasted of chocolate but it was sort of muted and sickly sweet at the same time. The chocolate isn’t particularly high quality. The frosting certainly doesn’t taste as good as a ganache. If I am going to mess around with melted chocolate for my frosting, that is what I would choose to make. The cakes themselves also taste a bit dull. I would bet that your basic Duncan Hines, Betty Crocker, or Pillsbury mix would yield a more satisying result.

So, with less than stellar cake and so-so frosting I rate Ina Garten’s mix a full-on “Feh.”

I can only hope that I have learned a lasting lesson from this. Homemade is always best. I think I can remember that…

…until I make cornbread. This Northern girl likes her cornbread sweet and Jiffy Corn Muffin mix is the ruler of all in that arena (not to mention that it costs about a dollar). I guess some things live up to their promise.

A Visit from The Inspector

The other day I was in my office when I got a phone call from Adam. "What's up?" I said. He replied, "Listen." And that was when I heard the meowing. I guess that wouldn't be unusual...if we owned a cat.

I knew almost immediately where the meows were coming from. Our neighbor's cat is a bit of a busybody. It (no offense intended, but I don't know if it is he or she) has been spotted checking out the interior of parked cars. It has been known to make itself comfortable in our driveway and on our deck. I am not complaining because I watch the cat in turn. Dishwashing is much more pleasant when I can watch the cat's stalking, stretching, and other antics from my kitchen window.

Adam had been home waiting for a service call. Once the work was done, he caught the man as he was leaving, so he could ask about billing. The cat made its move during the pause at the door.

Adam looked down at the cat as it darted inside and said, "Hello, cat."

"Is that your cat?" the man asked.

"Nope." And with that they concluded the conversation. The man took his leave.

Men. Not a squeal of delight in the whole exchange! It is a good thing that I could provide some proper cute-appreciation phone support.

The next step for Adam was to track down the cat. Apparently, it had decided that each room needed to be inspected and rubbed. Adam finally found the cat up in our bedroom. He more than made up for his nonchalance at the door (which I not-so-secretly adore, actually) by taking a picture to surprise me.

Once the cat had marked the house sufficiently, it wanted to be let out. All business, that one.

Since then it has trotted up to the door once again, but its hopes were dashed as we continued with our plan for an after-dinner walk. I am pretty sure that it is just a matter of time before our home is invaded again.

I say, bring it on!

Weekend Highs and Lows…

Last week Adam gave me an assignment: find a restaurant in Indianapolis for Friday's dinner with Mari and Joe. I looked around a bit and decided that the new Weber Grill restaurant looked like fun. Sadly, by the time I tried for reservations, the only feasible time was 8:45 pm. I went ahead anyway and put my name in.



The restaurant was quite busy when we got there. We took a seat in the bar and ordered drinks. Service was a bit slow so we were called to be seated before they came. It wasn't really a problem because the drinks were brought to the table. I got one of the specialty cocktails: The Brazilian (yes, I was a bit embarrassed, but I didn't spy any waxing equipment by the bar). It is their version of the caiprinha and uses raspberry and pineapple juices in addition to the traditional lime. It tasted good, but I think I prefer the traditional mix because it tastes cleaner somehow. About halfway through this one I thought it started to get a bit cloying.

We each ordered a starter. Mari and I got the house salad: a variety of greens, croutons, and roasted corn vinaigrette. I thought it was good, if a bit stemmy. I find it awkward when I try to eat salad and I get slapped in the face with stems. Maybe there is a technique to it that I haven't yet mastered. Or maybe I just have bad table manners. Adam got the Romaine wedge salad. He thought it was good after being initially skeptical about the "wedge" potential of romaine. Joe seemed to be quite pleased with his bacon wrapped scallop skewers. I must say that they looked delicious. I am used to bacon wrapped items coming with sort of limp, underdone bacon. This looked crisp and perfect.

I ordered a medium-rare New York Strip steak with a baked potato. It was right on the money in terms of doneness. It was thick cut and had that distinctive taste of the charcoal grill: delicious. It was a tad tough and a little bit on the dry side which is odd. My perception may be due to the fact that when I eat steak these days it is usually filet. Mari said she liked her entree. Adam ordered the prime rib. It came out rare as ordered. He seemed to enjoy it, but Adam thought that the hickory smoke taste didn't contribute much to his delight. I think Joe indicated that he agreed about the hickory.

I am sort of torn about the evening. As always I had a great time laughing it up with the Hammers. I enjoyed the food well enough; I just wasn't blown away. The service wasn't particularly smooth, but I think I will attribute it to the fact that the restaurant has only been open about a month now. I think that the experience just wasn't quite worth the later hour and it is hard to pay that much for a meal when you know that for the same money you could eat much, much better at a place like the Chicago Chop House. However, we aren't in Chicago so I should get over it. And I used my leftover steak to make steak and eggs for us this morning; it is difficult to complain about that.

Saturday brought us to Camp Tecumseh for Samuel's CHAPS show. He and his horse for the day, Goldie, snagged a cowboy award and a blue ribbon for trotting. The camp is actually quite big and is in a beautiful wooded area. I was tricked into crossing a "suspension bridge" that actually swings. I understand that Dan was the troll of the bridge and provided extra swing by using an iceskating gait. For that, I wish he would have spent some time under the bridge like others of his kind. But, with the aid of a bit of white knuckling and some conversational distraction with Kathy, I made it. Unfortunately, I believe that the only other scaredy cat in our party was the King Charles Spaniel crouched on the other side. Whatever. Samuel wasn't particularly amused by walking, but he enjoyed the slide and riding on his father's shoulders. Before leaving the camp we saw a guy Adam used to play basketball with and his son, Heatstroke Spiderman. The boy was dressed in one of those Spiderman costumes that comes with padded muscles. I would bet good money that he has worn that outfit almost every day since Halloween. Very cute, but this hypochondriac was worried he would keel over any minute. I, for one, wanted some A/C.

Tonight, my original dinner plans were thwarted by some slow-thawing lobster. I had splurged on a couple of lobster tails and I didn't want to risk ruining their texture by thawing them in water. That left me vulnerable to cravings. A number of restaurants were probably going to be packed because the freshmen and presumably a bunch of parents have arrived at Purdue. So I started by thinking about Camille's Sidewalk Cafe or Chinese food. And then I was smacked out of the blue for the desire for Kentucky Fried Chicken.

Why? For me, KFC was a childhood treat. Fried chicken was not a dish that my mom made (though she did make a delicious Parmesan chicken that I loved). I don't really remember fried chicken being a big part of Wisconsin culinary culture. Fried fish by the ton, but not the chicken. The red bucket was a welcome sight. So, scoff if you must. I must now confess that what I am actually after is not the chicken. It is all about the coleslaw. I should probably just order a tub of it for dinner and quit this charade.

My long-suffering husband looked a bit defeated when I coyly confessed my real dinner choice, but took one for the team. Then, we made our second error. We. Went. Inside. To eat. I honestly don't remember ever having dined in before and now I know why. The interior of the restaurant is small and most of the tables were dirty. There were a few people inside who must have come for the buffet. We ordered our number three meals from the unenthusiastic person at the counter (she rolled her eyes at Adam when he inadvertently spoiled her plan to smoosh everything on one tray). Lovely.

But I enjoyed my coleslaw and I know that in a few months I will be hit with the craving again (though I will be going through the drive-through). I always think about the movie "So I Married an Axe Murderer" at times like this. Mike Myers' Scottish Dad character is hilarious and I love his KFC rant: "Oh, I hated the colonel with his wee beady eyes..."

After dumping my trash, I noticed that each of the trays has a picture of Colonel Sanders stamped in the corner. He is smiling jauntily and winking. For some reason, he seemed to be saying something to me...

I believe the word was "Dumbass."

Sushi Victory

I love sushi. It is one of my favorite things to eat. It is, unfortunately, not the easiest thing to get in Lafayette. The best restaurant for it in town is called Kokoro, but it isn't cheap and you have to understand that the chef is an artist. He is well known for both perfectionism and temperamental outbursts (he will kick people out or bug out himself during service). The food is worth it, but if you want totally stress free dining, then it isn't really the place to go. The other option is supermarket sushi which may be tolerable, but is seldom delicious. Adam and I often go to a place called Wasabi on 82nd Street in Indianapolis for a fix. The sushi has always been excellent there, but it isn't exactly close by.

So what to do when we don't want to drive almost an hour, risk drama, or bank on the selection at Target or Marsh? Make it at home!

I have been thinking about trying it for awhile and last night I actually attempted it. I started with the rice. My wonderful rice cooker has a sushi rice setting so cooking the rice was a breeze. I added the seasoned rice vinegar to the rice, cut it in, and fanned the mixture a bit. I put the nori sheets in a 350 degree oven for a few minutes. And I prepared my ingredients. I wanted to start with a couple of easy rolls so I chose California and New York rolls.

For the California roll I spread the rice on the nori sheet, added avocado and cucumber slices, krab, and a bit of wasabi paste.



For the New York rolls I used rice, cucumber slices, cream cheese, and smoked salmon.



I have a tendency to overstuff and am not usually successful at rolling things like burritos or sandwich wraps. The sushi seemed to go much more smoothly. Maybe it is because you don't have the fold to deal with. The bamboo mat and the "jellyrollesque" roll makes it seem pretty easy. I can't claim that it was perfect, but it did the trick.

Here is my first roll.


After that comes the slicing. It took a couple of tries to get the motion down. I mushed the first one, but after that I think I was relatively successful. My finished rolls may not win any beauty contests, but I am mighty proud of them.

Mr. Bento contained a Japanese inspired feast today.



I filled two containers with sushi rolls, one with cherries and plums, and the last with a mixture of rice crackers and cute panda cookies filled with strawberry cream. Nestled in the upper container of sushi is a "soy pig"--a small pig shaped container filled with soy sauce. It is one of the line of cute bento accessories I splurged on.

The rolls turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself. I need to work on balancing the flavors a bit more. I couldn't really taste the wasabi in one and in the other I have to watch the cream cheese or it overwhelms the taste of the other ingredients.

My first sushi experience at home was a lot of fun. I am excited to try new rolls and when I can get my hands on some sashimi grade tuna I will take the next step and try to work with the raw fish. Spicy tuna rolls here we come!

Indiana Adventures

We finally lifted the self-imposed visitor lockout (due to less than optimal conditions in the house) and have hosted our first guest. Jon's visit was just the push we needed to get some chores done around the house. The fact that my brother is one of the people least likely to care about such things is ultimately immaterial. Adam and I are much happier with the current state of affairs.

The most obvious change is the new paint. After six years, I have finally stopped waffling and have almost completely covered the cheap white paint the previous owners had slopped all over the place. The latest room to get the treatment was our downstairs bath. Petal pink is the official name of the color, but Adam cut to the heart of the matter when he judged it "not too pink."


I try not to destroy Adam with too much frou-frou, but sometimes a girl has to do what a girl has to do...

Once the room was finished there wasn't much to do but wait for Jon to make the trek down from Wisconsin. Like many before him he bemoaned the boring and long, flat stretch of Illinois. And like many before him he didn't find Indiana all that much better. At least the Wabash river helps us out a bit and we get some roll in the landscape.

The major challenge in the visit was to organize some activities. Jon's self-described "Zen" attitude (read: doesn't care) lets him deal with boredom, but I really didn't want him to have to tax the Buddha nature during his stay. And yet, I took full advantage during our trip to Indianapolis by subjecting the men to a bit of shopping.

First stop after lunch: an international grocery store. I loaded up on noodles and sushi supplies. Jon got adventurous and picked up some Asian sweets.


His choice was pretty tasty and marked one of many stops for coffee treats (Starbucks is everywhere!). We then went to a mall because I wanted to visit Crate and Barrel (ostensibly for a shower curtain liner and rings, but somehow a cupcake carrier appeared in my basket) and Restoration Hardware (Bath sale! New paint demands new towels, don't you know).

The guys handled the wait admirably, but I think they were happy to move downtown to walk a bit of the canal walk. Sadly, I forgot my camera. The canal walk is good fun. You can rent little paddle boats, take a gondola ride, or just hoof it. We opted to stay dry.

We worked up an appetite and hunted down Kona Jack's. I tried two new things. One was a bite of Jon's pan-fried wall-eye. It was good, but I don't think it will ever be my favorite fish. It seems a bit oily, but that could be because it is fried. I chose Ono (also known as Wahoo) for my entree. I have never had it before and didn't know what to expect. It was sesame crusted, pan-seared, and topped with an oyster sauce. I hate oysters, but I love oyster sauce. It must be the sweetness. The fish was "meaty" instead of delicate, more like a tuna or swordfish steak. It had a pleasant flavor though it was a bit dry. According to my tiny bit of research, it is related to mackerel (which is delicious sashimi). I would order it again. Adam got some rare tuna and seemed to enjoy it.

The evening concluded at home with some quality TV watching. If you get a chance to check out the "Jekyll" miniseries on BBC America, I highly recommend it. James Nesbitt is a current favorite of mine.

The highlights of the next day were a walk around a park in Battleground, Indiana and dinner at The Nine Irish Brothers (an excellent local Irish pub). I think that we earned our beer and food by searching for Prophet's Rock. Our trail began the way I most enjoy (with concrete steps and a handrail). It led down to a picnic area where two young boys helpfully volunteered to let us see their crawdads in cups (we politely declined) and up a small bridge. We went through a field, across a highway, and up into some hills and woods. It was quite pretty and I got to feel rugged without actually taxing myself all that much. None of us were particularly impressed with some of the informative signs, but I suppose that some might have been shocked to know that granite was once liquid (geology rocks). I think that the granite sign marked the exhaustion of ideas because after that the signs sort of disappeared.

It is a good thing that Jon and Adam were there because I am no pathfinder. They dubbed me Sacajawea for the "journey" but I did not live up to the legend. I was good at spotting spiderwebs, bugs, and woodpeckers, but I had a rough time with the big picture. Sadly for me, I punked out when it came to the rock itself. Jon basically ran down the precipitous hill and confirmed its presence. I declined the experience. Instead, I waited for Adam to drive me past it on the way home. Princess style!

Again, the evening concluded with some "Jekyll" watching, Mountain Dew consumption, and a bit of gabbing. Good times. Overall, I had a lot of fun. Jon was in a good enough mood that he actually indulged me by sitting still for a picture.



Before Jon left we went out for a late breakfast at a campus institution: The Triple XXX. The place was fairly packed, but we found three open stools at the counter. It isn't anything fancy, but the food is tasty. A good base of eggs, potatoes, toast and bacon isn't a bad way to start a long drive (especially when you are determined not to stop along the way as Jon was).

I count the visit a success. No noogies were given and he indicated that he would try not to hide from us when we go to Wisconsin again.

And our house is still in relatively decent shape. Will wonders never cease?

Cuteness Rules the Kitchen!

Meet Mr. Bento: our new lunch carrier. I decided that I wanted one for work (hopefully it will make the vending machines less tempting). I couldn't see lavishing a bunch of attention on my lunches and not doing the same for Adam, so I got one for him too. Basically it is a thermos.



However, it is no ordinary thermos. The magic is in the individual containers inside. I have been having a blast packing lunches for the past week or so. Trying to fill the containers with tasty treats has made the whole idea more interesting. It doesn't hurt that I also purchased some ridiculously cute little accessories: divider cups (with animal pictures), tiny containers for sauces and salt, and so on. Adam has been quite nice about my flights of fancy. I don't think he has been teased at work either...so bonus there.

Here is an example of one Mr. Bento day.


In case the *ahem* lovely photograph isn't clear, we have 1) shrimp fried rice 2) PB & J 3) Babybel cheese, pistachios, and rice crackers and 4) Grapes and pluots. It was mostly successful. The rice was quite filling so neither Adam nor I got to the top layer (nuts, crackers, cheese). Placing the fruit on top of the rice wasn't such a good idea either, at least as far as the pluots were concerned. The grapes shrugged off the heat and were just fine. Did I mention that Mr. Bento does indeed retain heat and cold even hours later? You can pack both hot and cold items, but it is best to have a "neutral" container between them. Sure, that is common sense, but I have never really been accused of having an abundance of it.

The real test, of course, will be when I return to work in a week or two. It is fine to putz around when you are going to be home all day; it is a whole other matter when you have places to be and other things to do. I am hoping that I will be able to effectively plan ahead and get the assembly time down.

There are a number of cool websites devoted to bento delights. That should keep me inspired for a while. I am looking forward to making many more sassy little lunches. Never underestimate the power of the cute.

Cuteness and a love of corn meet in my next new acquisition: the Corn Zipper.



Okay, so it was the smile that ultimately persuaded me to hunt it down at Williams Sonoma. It has proven to be a handy little device. It makes cutting kernels off a corn cob an easy job. Yes, I know you can just use a knife, but I always made a huge mess and often leave some of the kernel goodness on the cob.

Instead of risking injury (cuts, kernel shots to the eye, angry cob-fu, etc.) you grip the corn cob, take the zipper and pull it down a row. Very easy. I made less mess, got more corn (and yummy milk), and did a happy victory dance. My creamed corn was a success. A few days later I tried it on some corn I had already roasted and it worked just as well.

Verdict: Mr. Bento and the Zipper are rockin' my kitchen.