I have to include the following phrase into my story 🙂
So I decided I want to make cookies. I found THIS recipe.
And then decided to write down the steps as it happened to me.
For those who don’t feel like going to the link…
First of all, I had to look up what creaming, baking, was, because otherwise I would have probably just mixed everything with a knife and/or fork and a big spoon.
(And Creaming, Baking, because creaming on its own seemed like it would have a 50/50 chance of showing something sexual. Just saying.)
But this is what I’ve posted to FB as it happened for me.
(Time stamps are approximate as I’m copy-pasting as I go, and typing in the times, so they’re changing as the time is. )
Steps to making cookies:
Step 1: Find recipe.
Step 2: Realize that recipe calls for 1 cup soft butter…
Step 3: Realize that you want to make cookies now, so stick butter under computer to ‘soften’
Step 4: When mixing butter realize that time spent under computer isn’t enough.
Step 5: Shrug and carry on
Step 6: Wen adding sugar, realize that you really should’ve let butter soften
Step 7: Frown, and carry on.
Stay tuned for more steps.
(About an hour ago)
Steps to making cookies, 2:
Step 8: “Mix in each egg, and then stir in vanilla…” Realize that you have no clue where vanilla is
Step 9: Find Vanilla. Found.
Step 10: Pause to feed dog lunch. Remember to wash kibble dust from hands.
Step 11: Feel that doing one, then the other egg, and then vanilla is too many steps. Mix all eggs and vanilla together.
Step 12: Wonder if there’s significant difference in mixing and stirring.
Step 13: Shrug, and carry on. Ignore previous result in ignoring recipe details.
Step 14: Remember result of ignoring recipe details. Realize that sugary, eggy, vanilla-y butter is now soft. ish. Remember not to ignore details again.
(About an hour ago)
Step 15: Where the hell is flour?
Step 16: Baking soda… Baking soda….
Step 17: Nearly put dry ingredients in same bowl that held eg and vanilla
Step 18: Reassure dog that you aren’t abandoning him in quest for Not-Baking-Powder-of-How-Did-I-Not-Notice-it-said-‘Soda’ and thank the cookie gods that you didn’t already mix it all in
Step 19: Wash out eggy vanilla bowl and wonder at bubbles.
Step 20: No seriously where the hell is baking powder.
(57 minutes ago)
Step 21: Get distracted from quest with sudden insight on how to make oatmeal cookies better.
Step 22: Start simmering raisins in apricot brandy. Don’t eat them.
Step 23: Continue Quest.
Step 24: Resist brandy-raisins.
Step 25: Resist.
(55 minutes ago)
Part 26: “Poudre a Pate” wtf why didn’t I notice it and why didn’t just TURN IT AROUND TO ENGLISH SIDE???
Part 27: Calm down and mark quest down as finished.
Part 28: Quest finished.
Part 29: Resist brandy. And Brandy Raisins.
Part 30: Wonder again at the difference between various sorts of baking terminology… mix and combine…
(52 minutes ago)
Part 30.5: Swear at vanilla-y tsp measure and wash it out. (comments)
(52 minutes ago)
Cookies of 6th level of hell
Step 31: Wonder at how this is staying liquid with the only wet ingredients being (not soft) butter, eggs, and vanilla.
Step 32: Give comfort to clingy dog who has been groaning at you for the past 5 minutes for not paying attention to him.
Step 33: Wash hands. Again.
Step 34: Cookies. Remember cookies.
Step 35: Look ahead in recipe and be disbelieving that you have to let chill for an hour before cooking.
Step 36: Swear at computer.
Step 37: Look sad at Sister. Who can think of making dumplings at a time like this?
Step 38: Realize you still have to add 3 cups of oats to the mix, and don’t forget about raisins, and choc chips (BECAUSE!), and recipe still doesn’t call for any other liquid to be added wtf recipe.
(32 minutes ago)
Step 39: Avoid being skewered by knife wielded by well-meaning sibling.
(30 minutes ago) (NOTE: She was emptying the dish washer)
Apocalyptic cookies 7ish
Step 40: Mix in the oatmeal and don’t believe recipe on no more wet ingredients
Step 41: be disbelieving at how everything got mixed.
Step 42: Wince and add brandy raisins and choc chips and mix
Step 43: Be even more disbelieving that even that, that stuff not in the recipe, works…
Step 44: Add pic to fb to be like “Cookie dough, bitches”…
(20 minutes ago)
40.5: Use knife to mix everything, and don’t ignore the death knell of mixer next time. (comments)
(21 minutes ago)
Step 45: Cookie Dough, Bitches!
(20 minutes ago)
Step 46: Be sad that now you must cover it in cellophane wrap and cram it into the fridge for an hour.
Au revoire Cookie Dough.
And now I’m waiting.
Will probably have more adventures in rolling and whatever the cookies, but for now this is what I have 🙂
And before I forget, brandy-ing raisins is freaking delicious, and this is how I did it:
WARNING: Very imprecise, if you want to know EXACTLY how to do it you will have to go somewhere else because really, you’re simmering raisins in Brandy here. Just don’t set your house on fire.
1. Get pot
2. Get raisins and brandy (I used apricot Brandy, but you can use whatever… or rum. Rum s good. Brandy is sweeter though.)
3. Put splash of brandy in pot .You’re looking for it to be absorbed by raisins. Use your judgement. It’s not a precise science)
4. put heat on low. Very low. You are cooking alcohol here. VERY LOW.
5. Add raisins. If you added too much brandy, feel free to add more raisins. I just kept adding them as the raisins already in it plumped up.
6. Keep on low heat, stirring occasionally, but ultimately you can leave it on its own. Turn down heat even further if it starts bubbling.
7. You basically want most f the brandy gone, and for the raisins to be soft. Use your judgement. But then you’re done!
I used golden raisins, but you can use whatever you want, really… I made about two handfuls of raisins to add to my dough (huzzah for precision!) which turned into something like a cup of brandy raisins. Just added them all to the dough, and added two handfuls of chocolate chips and mixed.
Your end result of raisins should be sticky like they’re covered in syrup, they should be soft and squishy, and taste testing should make you happy. I know what you’re thinking here…
I *am* a culinary genius.
Side Note: do this with more brandy to the brandy:raisins ratio, and add apples, a pinch of pepper, and some apple juice, and you have an amazing savoury-sweet side dish. Apple compote is delicious.
So, recently I was shown this video through an author who was, at the time, writing about a wood-carver and how he made drop spindles.
He (the character) grew up in an area where it wasn’t strange to know how to use a drop spindle, and the author provided a link to show what a drop spindle looks like, as well as showing how to use one.
And I think it would be cool.
I have coloured wool from an abandoned arts project I was planning on doing, but couldn’t figure out what I would make a picture of (trust me, it sounds stupid but I don’t want to explain it, if you’re really that curious ask in comments and I’ll explain), and all I would need is a drop spindle.
These things can come cheap, and if it’s the kind of hobby that I want to continue doing but with a better drop spindle, then I can get a better, fancier, more expensive one if I want.
I’ve tried knitting, and don’t have the patience (or apparently the ability to keep the mental how-to in my head long enough to be able) to knit for more than one day.
I admire my friends and family who CAN knit, but it is not for me.
But what if I could make wool?
Then… Then things would be different.
“Cool scarf sis, I believe that’s mine.”
“What? No, I made it, my scarf, I can make you one later.”
“Noooooo…. I got the wool, I made it into yarn, MY SCARF! BWAHAHA! And you thought I was being NICE letting you use my hours and hours of long work!”
So I decided to tell my Mom about this decision of mine, and I explained to her that I wasn’t much into knitting…
We talked about it a bit, and then, in my bid to make sure this sounds like a fantastic idea… I made a booboo. A tiny one.
“Besides, I really can’t take up knitting. If this house has any more yarn in it it’ll explode!”
Oh, the look Mom gave me…
Anyway, I’ll post pictures of what will undoubtedly be knotted and lumpy yarn, and live in hope that these pictures will soon be of regular, non-lumpy/knotted yarn.
(Lexy, If I make enough of it for you to use, I would like any possible future scarf to be mine, but in the time it would take you to make one, I would likely have enough practice and time to make you more, and in your colour of choice. Keep that in mind. :D)
So, Lexy left to go to a friend’s house for a pumpkin carving party (pictures later) at about 2:15-2:30, and this is what I’m seeing Gwynn doing.
(Seriously, he didn’t even twitch when I turned on and off the lights. And sorry about picture quality :D)
I’m sure he wishes he could be there for her, WITH her, right now (RIGHT NOW!!!), but as he would try to eat the pumpkins, he’s been left behind. “But I’m orange too!” He would likely protest. “Why can’t I come too?”
Lexy is probably going to bring him some pumpkin guts for a snack later, but as far as he’s concerned, she’s gone to war and he’s stuck at home awaiting her return.
There will be lots of bouncing and love and kisses when she returns. If I can, I’ll try to capture it on camera.
Awesome, I’ve been sticking to this, eh?
Today’s video I found on DeviantArt. The person who made this used paper cut outs and shadows, and I thought this was pretty darn cool 🙂
It’s a play on all those stories about wolves stealing babies… Werewolf or otherwise. I always thought those myths seemed pretty silly. A wolf (or werewolf, whatever) managing to get into your house, steal your baby
(rather than eat it right there), keep it alive while carrying it off (A wild animal carrying it by it’s swaddling maybe? And why would they want to keep it alive anyway?) until you have the chance to find the baby missing and hunt the wolf down. You may not find it, and all will be sad. You may find a lone wolf instead, and kill it as it was possibly obviously the one to kill the baby.
Real life? A wolf comes in, pisses on your floor, kills your baby, eats a great deal of it, and either you come home and freak out, or wolf goes away and you come home to freak out.
OR: You lost/sold your child, and go out in search (or in ‘search’) of it. Find a wolf and kill it if you can’t find (or ‘find’) the baby that you lost/sold.
But this short video is cool, with flute music that was used amazingly with shadow birds, the wolf, and other animals.
Hope you all enjoy! Have a happy Friday!
Also, it’s Friday the 13th? For all those superstitious, the reason why this day is supposedly ‘unlucky’ is because it was believed that there used to be 13 months, and witches would do some sort of horrific magic every week of this month. So, the calendar was shortened to only 12 months (solves the problem, doesn’t it? They HAVE to follow this new calendar), but since Friday the 13th came so rarely, it was possible that the witches could do this horrible magic on this day.
Yet another post about my craptastic roommates, and I know that some of you are going to be like “Pfft, whatever, it’s just juice” but I get more than a little pissed off when my stuff is opened and eaten without my knowing!
Yes this is about Juice. It wasn’t a typo in the title.
My parents came down to Ottawa to visit last weekend, as it’s March Break for most people in (not university) schooling, and they were nice enough to take me shopping at the local Metro (grocery store).
They bought me bread, they bought me ham and a variety of cheese, crackers, they also were smart enough to get me some heavy things, things that are more awkward to carry home.
Such as Milk and Juice.
Juice is something I love.
Other people are like “hey, I’ll have some milk and cookies.”
I am like “Hey, sure I’ll have some cookie–OHMYGOD! Is that JUICE?”
Juice lasts longer than milk, it comes in more flavours than milk, it comes in little boxes that DON’T have to be refrigerated, it is a part of my childhood that I have dragged, kicking and screaming, into adulthood.
While my friends were wasting money buying pop, I brought a number of juice boxes to school.
Because one juice box isn’t enough. Nope.
And my friends came to appreciate this, as I keep more than just two, on the not so off-chance I’ll be hanging out after school for longer than anticipated.
It wasn’t as odd as it sounds that they could ask, with some certainty that I would be able to deliver, if I had a juice box for them.
So my roommates OPENING (as in, it was sealed) and DRINKING (as in, I wasn’t the first to drink) about half of the 1.89L of MY JUICE (blood orange, if you’re wondering), just know that I am outraged.
Just about as outraged when I found that they had eaten all of my cheese.
I’m not sure what I’m more angry about, but I am pissed >: (
And, if they eat all my cheese again on TOP of this, I am going to kill them.
Maybe after spiking all their food with laxatives.
Doom shall come to those who come between me and my food…
They haven’t yet made moves against my meat (wow, that sounds vaguely sexual :S), and I am only going to say that they don’t because they don’t know if I’ll be using it for a meal or how long it has been in the fridge.
They certainly don’t pay attention to their own food… I had to, a couple of months ago, throw out a large Tupperware of sausages.
They were already white and fizzy, and were growing blue.
If they do ever eat my meat products (or more cheese, or more juice), then I am going to have a full on hissy fit.
A temper tantrum of epic proportions.
It will not be limited to expressing my anger through blog-form.
Oh, and if they ever tried stealing one of my jars of home-made salsa…
On a more cheerful (and less murderous) note, Mom and Dad seemed to have fun, staying Sat-Tues, and when I had to leave the to their own devices for a bit on Monday while I reviewed/studied, They went on a tour to the Parliament Buildings. I also ended up taking three showers in two days, as I took advantage of the saltwater pool at the Minto Suites my parents stayed at. I also ate spring rolls with plum sauce (that had wasabi mixed into it) that made me want to cry, as I’ve been eating more cafeteria food in an attempt to use up my meal plan.
To the family who reads this, I love you! To everyone else, I love you too! Just not as much as I love my family 😉
Bonus: Delicious foods and instructions to make delicious food, good for runners and “green smoothies” HERE
Went to one of the conveniently places Mac’s that’s a short walk from my res, feeling in need of a bag of chips and maybe an Arizona.
It’s late, but nice out, and I’m tempted to go on walking, past this macs and maybe onto the next one.
I don’t, and I’m glad I did.
When looking for my Arizona, I moved back from the chip selection at my back so that this baby faced guy to get past me, and he says while walking towards and past me, as if continuing a conversation:
“I really like your sweater–”
Because He was looking at me I said Thank you, and he continued with
“Yeah, it looks like it’d be really warm, it is warm isn’t it? Thanks”
and continued walking.
I thought, okay, baby faced, and a rather high (if sort of scratchy) voice, probably younger than I thought. I was thinking MAYBE University, more likely High School. Very likely he’s high.
Now I was thinking that, well, it’s possible he’s in university, but it’s more likely he’s either in high school or middle school. Very likely high.
I was smiling at the compliment because, high or not, compliments are nice, and he looked cute.
I know I just finished saying he was most likely pretty young, but he had a face of someone you knew was going to be cute if you gave it a few more years.
Maybe his voice would sound nice after Puberty as well, I was sort of thinking, but he had some acne, so perhaps the voice issue was from smoking so much, or maybe he had a cold, or maybe he was just that high.
So I grabbed a bag of chips and two Arizona’s (one for later) and brought it to the counter, where the baby-faced, high voiced kid had finished buying whatever he had ought + orange juice (“Hey, where’s my orange juice? I can’t find it!” The cashier pushes the orange juice in bag towards him. “oh”) and I notice that he’s left behind two quarters.
The Cashier slides the change to the side but pauses when the kid speaks up.
“Oh, no, that’s for her…”
I felt like laughing in his face, because he sounded like he was being the nicest (and possibly flirtiest) guy out there.
Yeah, in a tone one would use for giving up a $10, he says:
“Oh, no, that’s for her…”
Baby faces, high voice, and I still don’t know if that’s a confirmation that he’s high, or that he’s really young to think that 50 cents is generous, or maybe he’s really high out of his mind, but I bought my chips and Arizona’s with a small smile and a non-verbal conversation with the cash register guy…
He means it’s for you, eh?
Yeah, I know, you keep it.
Sure? He’s being very generous…
Yeah, go ahead. I can go without his magnanimously given 50¢
Yeah, I’m sure I’ll survive.
I’m still giggling about it, and part of me wants to meet that guy again… when he’s high or not, because it was really friggin funny 😄
Especially since the parting glance between Cashier and I was a mutual
Look at him eh?