Melodrama Mondays - The Iron Versus Me

Something occurred to me last night as I was ironing my husband's shirts for another work week. I had actually ironed twice within the last month or so. Twice! A miracle! I yelled this fact to Jeremy, who was in the kitchen preparing our gourmet dinner of sautéed onions with polska kielbasa and our favorite: out of the box Mac 'n Cheese.


"You must love me a lot" was his reply. And I do, because I hate ironing. I hate ironing like I hate people who have pets and don't spend time with them. I hate ironing like I hate corrupt politicians and nasty English peas. I. Hate. Ironing. I do everything in my power to avoid ironing at all costs. At any cost. I specifically buy clothes that are iron-proof, i.e. silky fabrics which somehow dry with no wrinkles. These blouses and dresses are my saviour. They keep me away from the dreaded iron and ironing board with ease, and I love them for it.


Jeremy's clothes don't get by as easily without ironing. For some reason they don't make a lot of men's clothes in that rayon/whatever blend that makes my shirts so fundamentally fabulous. Guess it's not a very "masculine" kind of fabric. Whatever. In an effort to avoid having to iron Jeremy's clothes, I hang up as much as possible. OR I hop on the dryer as SOON as it's done so I can whip out his pants and shirts before they have a chance to wrinkle up. Trust me, I'm the queen of avoiding the iron.

Evil Iron of Doom

Unfortunately, last night, the iron and I had to meet again. The shirt that I needed to wear for an event at work today was wadded up in the bottom of one of my dresser drawers. Yesterday afternoon, I rummaged through the drawers and pulled it out. I shook it thinking that somehow, miraculously, the shaking motion would make all of those set-in, old-as-hell wrinkles just magically disappear. Yeah, not so much. I would have to face my old nemesis.


Whenever I do have to iron, I try to make it as productive an ironing session as possible so that I won't have to iron again for awhile. I pulled out some of Jeremy's shirts that weren't saved from the dryer in time to avoid wrinkling. I ironed. And ironed. And ironed some more. I ironed THREE whole shirts. I hated every minute of it.


But anyway, back to loving Jeremy. The last time I ironed within the last month was for his recent job interview. I spent what seemed like hours getting his shirt and pants perfectly creased and crisp. I was so proud of his interview outfit that I was tempted to take a picture (not of it on him but on the hangers looking perfectly unwrinkled), but I managed to refrain. That might have been a little weird.


To be perfectly honest, I would probably never iron if it weren't for Jeremy (even though the rare occasion does come up when I need to iron for myself). I don't want to be sappy, because I hate sappy, but I do a lot of things (like: eat Subway, watch hours worth of video game-playing, listen to Japanese rock music) just because I love Jeremy. So I suppose I should add ironing to that list, too. But all of it is worth it, because he's a pretty dorky loveable dorkily loveable great guy, and I'm so thankful that:


1) We met on the internet.
2) He moved across the country for me, from California to Georgia with little more than a picture of me to go by.
3) We got married. (Some stuff happened in between these of course but that's the gist of it.)


All of that trumps ironing any day of the week. Even on Mondays.


PS - Do any of you actually enjoy ironing? If so, can I mail my wrinkled clothes to you?


PPS - Because I feel that I cannot truly express to you in words how much I hate ironing, I will leave you with this picture. When I iron, I similarly hold the back of my hand to my face in complete exasperation. It is a pitiful thing indeed.

Woe is us all.
source

   

The Biscuit Chronicles: Attempt 3 aka "Glory to the Biscuit"

"Glory to the biscuit." Is what Jeremy said today after Biscuit Attempt #3. And I guess I agree with him, because as good as the other attempts have been, I think this one was the best.


This attempt was based on a recipe recommended to me by a blogger who found my desperate call for biscuit recipes on 20SomethingBloggers.  Amanda of Something Savory did me a huge favor by introducing me to JPs Big Daddy biscuits, a recipe featured on AllRecipes.com. Amanda does an excellent job of the step by step recipe on her post dedicated to these amazing and tasty biscuits, and while you're checking out the step by step, be sure to check out her awesome blog. She has some yummy-looking recipes, and she also reviews restaurants. Just a peak at her blog is guaranteed to make you hungry.


So these biscuits were to die for, but our taste buds may have been a little confused and influenced by the mouth-watering SAUSAGE GRAVY that Amanda recommends for putting on top of the biscuits. Seriously, I've had a lot of gravy in my day, and this was right up there with the best!


The ingredients:


2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon white sugar
3 1/3 tbsp shortening
2 tbsp butter
1 cup milk

Minus the milk, sugar, and salt. What a poor excuse for an ingredient photo.

Oh, and before I get started with the recipe, super excitingly, I got some new biscuit tools for my birthday, and this was the perfect opportunity to use them.

Pastry cutter (finally), new sifter, two new biscuit cutters, and an adorable new apron.

But back to the biscuits. After preheating the oven to 425, I sifted together my flour, salt, and sugar. I then added my Crisco and butter. Now, Crisco is something several people (Mama and Carla) have recommended that I use in my biscuits, and I must admit this seems to be the key difference. This particular recipe called for cold Crisco, and I don't keep my Crisco in the fridge, so I added it at room temperature. The biscuits may have turned out flakier if it had been true and cold. I used my new pastry cutter to cut in the Crisco and butter and cut until my consistency was what Amanda recommended as "coarse meal-ish." I then, slowly, added about 3/4 cup of milk, which proved to be just enough. 


The dough was incredibly easy to work, and I only had to knead it a couple of times to get it just perfect for patting out. I patted mine out a little thinner than Amanda recommended, maybe a 1/2 inch, and I used my smallest sized biscuit cutter to ensure a greater yield. I cut out about 12 biscuits.

Too many for one cast iron skillet alone, had to put the rest in a cake pan.

They took exactly fifteen minutes to bake. Oh! And Amanda's recommendation for putting the dough in the fridge before baking seemed to help. They turned out extraordinarily fluffy and tender. And the bottoms were browned just perfectly. Yum!

I suck at pretty food and pretty pictures, but rest assured, it tasted great. 

I recommend checking out Amanda's post for directions on the gravy. It may not look pretty the way I made it, but it was delicious. 


The Verdict:

Yum times a thousand. This is my winner so far. For now, this will be my go-to recipe when I want to make biscuits. 


What I Would Do Differently?


Absolutely nothing. Amanda at Something Savory obviously knows her food. Check her out and be impressed with delicious eats. PS - She's got a bacon cheddar scones recipe up right now that looks DIVINE. 


Call for recipes! Think you can beat JPs Big Daddy biscuits? Let me know. If I use your recipe, I'll feature you (and your blog if you have one) in The Biscuit Chronicles post. Just shoot me an email at katieross83[at]gmail[dot]com.

Linking Up:

The Pale Girl Blues

I'm pale. Painfully so. I came to terms (mostly) with that fact years ago. I come from a long-line of pale people. I'm more than two-thirds Irish; it's just in my genes. But pale is not the world we live in. Just look at the Jersey Shore cast.

GTL, anyone?
courtesy: google image search

In high school, I rebelled against the pale. The hours I spent laying in a tanning bed were some of the most relaxing of my life. I loved tanning. Loved it. I loved the way it made my skin feel, the way I could relax under the fake beams of the fake sun. I worshipped the tanning bed. Unlike the sun, it would give me an actual, kind of, tan. The sun would just burn my skin and turn me into the red girl instead of the pale girl. I preferred pale. But the tanning bed gave my skin a slightly golden sheen (along with hundreds of new freckles...in addition to being pale, I also freckle). But alas, my days of tanning are now but a faded memory.


When I was in college, my Daddy started developing skin cancers on his face and hands. Turns out years of sun exposure with little or no protection had taken a toll on his naturally pale skin. This was a huge wake up call for me. My love affair with the tanning bed ended abruptly. I now get on my friends' nerves when I harass them about how they need to stop tanning.


Needless to say, I've been tan-less and pale for quite awhile now. During the spring and summer, I do enjoy getting outside as much as possible, but I have to slather on sunscreen to keep from burning and turning into Lobster Girl. So even in the middle of summer, I remain fairly pale, and while my husband loves my fair complexion, I usually hate it. Not because I hate fair skin. In fact, I love the look of a healthy, even ivory complexion, but such a complexion is a curse when you're trying to hide your emotions.

Not what I'd call an ideal tan.

Ladies and gentleman, I'd like to introduce you to splotching (or blotching as some might call it). The ugly cousin to blushing, splotching is an awful affliction that plagues my daily existence. It can best be described as a form of "spotty" blushing, and it typically pops up all over my chest and on my neck. Splotching makes it impossible to hide your true feelings about anything. Embarrassed about that giant mistake you made on an admissions evaluation? Up pops a splotch! Angry at the last-minute student trying to get enrolled in classes on the day the classes start?! Oh, there's splotches all over! Hell, if you even get a little warm in your over-heated office that for some reason never cools down even when they turn on the AC, you'll be covered in splotches! Notice splotches usually and most often make their presence known at work. Home and personal-life splotching almost never occurs...UNLESS, I scratch my skin or even touch it just a little too hard...then there it is.


The worst part about splotching? People usually think you have a rash or some other disease or something. I can't tell you how many people have looked at my neck or chest in complete disgust and said, "Ew! What's wrong with you?" "Is that a rash!?" "Oh, my gosh, your skin is horribly discolored!" Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little. But honestly, people do notice, and they almost always say something. And guess what pointing out the splotching does to the splotching?  You guessed right: it breeds more splotches!


So, yes, I do sometimes miss tanning. I miss the relaxation of it. And I miss being able to hide every little emotion that I have. But in spite of the splotches, I love my pale skin, and next season, I hear pale is the new tan.

The Dish featuring Narragansett No. 7

Welcome to the second edition of The Dish, where I serve up some of my favorite bloggers for your reading pleasure. Today's blog is easily one of my favorites, but saying that it's a favorite just doesn't seem to say enough. To be perfectly honest, today's blog is much better than a blog. It's a collection of stories really. Of wonderfully written, perfectly crafted, unique and stirring stories. A visit to this blog rarely leaves you feeling unaffected, whether you laugh with the author, cry, or find yourself shaking your fist at another idiot Beulah. Today's featured blog is Narrangansett No. 7.

In addition to being an entertaining and fabulous blogger, Kelli at Narragansett No. 7 is a genuinely talented writer. She is pursuing her Master of Fine Arts in Creative Non-Fiction, and when you read her daily posts, you can sense that she goes that extra mile to bring her readers quality stuff. And you can't help but feel as though you are privy to something really special.

Delicious Design

Narragansett No. 7 has a simple, minimalistic design that allows readers to focus on the content of the blog. There are no distracting sidebars with tons of buttons, no slow-loading side pages. It's a blog that's refreshing to visit with no distractions from what you're really there for: her penetrating and moving words.

But that's not to say that Kelli doesn't provide illustrations for her posts. Nearly every story that she shares has proper (and usually uproariously funny) photographs to accompany it. One of my favorite illustrated posts: Crack is Whack! Check it out, but prepare yourself for an eyeful of butt cleavage.


Appetizing Content


Where to start? Since discovering Narragansett No. 7 a few weeks ago, I've had the pleasure of going back and reading some of the blog's past posts. Amazingly, I've discovered that this blog never seems to have an "off" day. The content that is delivered here is consistently great and at a high level of talent.


My favorite series of posts? No. 7's ghost stories! Back in late 2010, Narragansett No. 7 featured a series of posts on a white farmhouse that the blogger lived in for several years as a child and preteen. This house is one that I can now picture perfectly thanks to some haunting tales. I kid you not that I think these stories  go into the record books for me as far as scary goes. The night I spent engrossed in the series and covered in chill bumps was a sleepless one.


There's no category that Narragansett No. 7 easily fits into. Although Kelli does write about her children and home-life to a certain extent, I would never describe her blog as a "mommy blog." She is MUCH more than that, and her diverse collection of posts proves that beyond the shadow of a doubt.

Scrumptious Survey: Questions Answered By Blogger

What’s your favorite dish/food? What way is the wind blowing? Seriously, I'm slightly schizophrenic with my food tastes. I love trying new things!  Having said that, if I had to pick some favorites for my last meal ever, I'd request escargot and a Bellini, followed by some fresh oysters, then a freshly picked, still warm from the sun tomato paired with fresh basil, buffalo mozzarella and drizzled with olive oil, then a taste of the lobster macaroni and cheese with truffles from 555 in Portland, Maine.

What’s your favorite type of cuisine (Italian, French, etc.)? French. No, wait.. Italian. No...Spanish. I grew up in a very diverse part of the country, so I was lucky enough to enjoy all sorts of cuisines. My family is a mixture of Irish, German and English. My uncle was Italian (See my post titled, "Fat Pants and Pasta") so growing up, eating was quite an adventure! We definitely aren't those people who eat the same meals every week and processed foods were never an option.

What is unique about the cuisine in your part of the world? The best part about moving to Maine? I can have fresh Maine lobstah whenever I want! We live in Portland, Maine and for a small city, the restaurants here are incredible! A few of our local chefs have been listed among the top 25 chefs in the country. A good portion of our restaurants are truly dedicated to eating "locally" and are committed to building their menus around New England's farmers, cheese makers, breweries and fisherman. Coming from New York, and being surrounded by whatever you want, whenever you want it, I like this pared down way of life. I feel good about eating organically grown, local foods.

Sweet or salty? Salty. Most definitely salty.

What food are you craving right now? Bacon dusted french fries from Nosh Kitchen Bar, Portland, Maine. Have you seen that episode on Man vs. Food? AH-MAZING! Hold on...I just drooled a little.

Do you like to cook? If so, do you ever share recipes on your blog? I love to cook! In fact, for several years I wanted to go to the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, NY and even catered my husband's law school graduation party when I was 7 months pregnant, then a christening party for a friend in my 8th month of pregnancy. I don't share recipes all that often, but occasionally post something new on our "what we're eating" page. Cooking is really another creative outlet for me. I'm addicted to that moment when someone tastes a dish I have prepared and their eyes widen with pleasure. When someone goes back for seconds or requests a specific dish during a visit, I nearly swoon with delight.

Where do you get the recipes you use? From cookbooks, blogs, online directories, etc? Most of my recipes come from cookbooks; one of my favorite for the past few years has been The Gourmet Cookbook by Ruth Reichl. I tend to alter my menus according to the season, so we're still enjoying our winter comfort foods, like cassoulet, turkey chili, homemade pappardelle with blue cheese & leeks and chorizo & clam stew.

What food-related word would you use to describe your blog? (i.e. salty, sweet, savory, delicious, yummy…) Get creative! Scrumdiddilyumpshus. That's not an actual word, is it? 'Complex' might be more appropriate description for my blog.

Do yourself a favor and stop by Narragansett No. 7 as soon as possible. The blog and the blogger both stand out from the crowd with an extraordinary amount of talent. It is the kind of blog you genuinely enjoy reading every word of, but to give you fair warning, you'll quickly become addicted to the laughs and tears of No. 7's stirring words.   

Wordless Wednesday - Japantown Cat Bowls

Rice Bowls from Japan Town in San Francisco

You have permission to be wildly jealous.