Thursday, October 29, 2015

A Blog is Not a Blog Without a Vanilla Tutorial

I have a very strict set of policies regarding food. Is it savory? Add ground chipotle. Is it sweet? Add nutmeg. Is it after the 4th of July? Add all the holiday spices. Because if I'm honest, in my house at any given point in the year it's always Christmas somewhere...A reindeer throw pillow in the library, a snowflake shower rug in the bathroom, a Christmas quilt on the couch...you get the idea. I kind of love Christmas. I also unashamedly start listening to Christmas music before Halloween. I'm one of those people.

I also take a recipe's suggestion of how much vanilla and toss it out the window. I rarely measure it. I pull an Emeril Lagasse and "eyeball it" and by "eyeball it" I mean add way more than the recipe writer ever intended. I measure vanilla the way Emeril measures wine. We're talking about a guy that keeps a cork screw in his pocket when he cooks. (Not even kidding.) I remember being absolutely enthralled by him on a cooking show when I was a kid. "He said to 'add a cup of wine'...but he poured in the whole bottle! I didn't even know you were allowed to do that! He's not even following his own recipe! This is nuts!" I remember thinking. These days, that's how I roll in my kitchen, and therefore, I need a lot of vanilla.
It's been several years since I bought vanilla extract. The fact that it is so easy to make, tastes better, and costs less than anything you can buy at the store makes it a no-brainer for the home baker. All you need is vanilla beans, a strong alcohol of your choice, and patience. And that's probably why every blog that ever talks about food has a tutorial on making your own extract.

There are many options for storing the vanilla. I've used the tiny quarter pint mason jars, which are easy to dip a measuring spoon in for those who like to be precise. This is a good gift-giving size too. However, my favorite approach is to just buy the 750 ML bottle of 80 proof vodka, snap out the ring inside the bottle mouth, stuff in seven or eight slit vanilla beans, and pop the ring back in place. (Just be sure your alcohol of choice is 70 proof or higher.) It pours smoothly with none of the annoying dribbling that conventional vanilla extract bottles have. I don't care how pretty that apothecary-style brown bottle is, if the lip is too round, the vanilla simply follows the curve all the way down to your hand. And I like my vanilla in my cookie dough, not all over the counter. 
I don't put my vanilla on the floor...This was the counter top at our previous house. Left to right: store-bought vanilla in the cute-but-dribbly bottle, vanilla for gifting, vanilla in a re-purposed bottle that poured decently, and newly made vanilla. (May 2014)


Once the beans are in the bottle, screw the cap tight, give it a vigorous shake, and leave it on the counter. Give the bottle a good shake a few times a week so the little seeds will wash out of the pods. According to beanilla.com it takes two months for the magical transformation to occur, so if you start now, your vanilla will be ready by New Year's. Beanilla is where I get my vanilla beans from, and they are about a dollar each, but you are welcome to source your own from whomever you like.
Vanilla that's ready to use is the color of strong tea when you hold it up to the light. Vodka based vanilla on the left, rum based vanilla on the right.


If you are so inclined--and have a tremendous green thumb--you can even grow your own vanilla orchid! But from what I have read these house plants are quite the high maintenance creatures. Even more so than the average orchid. I am a decent gardener, but I have killed an orchid, and it was in the "easy to care for" Phalaenopsis family. If I can keep my current orchid alive and convince it to bloom again...then maybe I will consider a vanilla orchid.


Now, when you have used up your extract, do not throw away the beans! Fish them out of the bottle, cut into small sections and throw them in a jar of sugar to make vanilla sugar. Give it a good shake. You may need to stir it with a butter knife to break up the chunks when you use it due to moisure, but it's very tasty stirred into tea or coffee. I also use it when a cookie recipe calls for white sugar. :)

Now go make some vanilla!

Thursday, October 15, 2015

Scars and Mistakes of Impatience

The Jer. 17.7-9 painting before I boogered it up
This morning I was looking over a watercolor painting I made yesterday. I saw a pencil line and decided to erase it. The bit of graphite vanished, but so did some of the green background. I dipped a brush in water and loaded the bristles with paint. My touch-up wouldn't have been a big deal, had it not been in an area where I had text with very concentrated black paint. If I had thought it through, I would have known better than to swipe over the dark paint; but in my haste, I ended up smearing the area. Immediately I blotted the area with a piece of magic eraser sponge which lifted the majority of the paint--especially the green. (Whew!) Crisis averted. Except that I screwed up. Again. I tried to fix the area while the abused paper was still wet. The fresh black paint spider-webbed and bled all over the roughed up area. Now it looked even worse than when I first "ruined" it. The sponge didn't pick up as much of the paint the second time. The paper was even more mangled. But I finally stopped trying to fix it. Iknew I had to wait for the paper to dry.







Through each of the mistakes and ever-increasing consequences, I thought about how the situation mirrored life. God tells us "I have a plan for you." We say, "Marvelous! Hurry up!" We get impatient, or think God has forgotten us, or He really must not have meant what he said. So we take matters into our own hands. We make a mess of things. Then we cry for help. "Gah! I broke it! ...I'm sorry," we sheepishly admit. "I still have a plan for you," He tells us. But there are consequences for our disobedience, impatience, and pride. We will have scars where there should have been tattoos commemorating God's faithfulness to His promise. The victory will come, in the proper timing, but the marks of our failings will be a permanent reminder, the baggage of our fallen state. But even those stumblings can be a testament. A many-versed song of the moments when God would not allow our failings to undermine His plan. His faithfulness to uphold His promises will be a song of victory even though we as humans seem only to be able to write songs of lament in our failings.


So while I wait for the paper to dry, I know the painting will not turn out unblemished. It will look better, but not perfect. And every time I see the scarred surface, I will remember the lesson I learned: be patient...do things in their proper time. It works out better that way.

Thursday, October 8, 2015

When Barbeque is on the Line



I find it amusing when my cat starts imitating me in order to gain brownie points. Usually there is food involved. Ever since I had eye surgery to repair a torn retina in 2013 I have been prone to squinting my left eye, which doesn’t produce tears as well as it used to, so it stays a lot less comfortable than my right eye.  Today as I sat down to eat my lunch, Smokie hovered near my chair restlessly circling me like a hungry shark. But Kitty chose a different tactic. He hopped into the chair across from me, careful not to put a paw on the table—breaking the rules would harm his chances of scoring a tasty bit of Bodacious barbeque—where he simply made eye contact. Squinty eye to squinty eye, he watched me eat my sandwich.
Back in 2013 when Kitty was honing his food-begging skills. This was before my eye surgery, so he hadn't added the squint yet.
His expression seemed to say, “Oh favorite human, if I have found favor in your squinty eye, may I please have a bit of smoked chicken? Look at us! We have so much in common: we squeeze our eyes the same, we both love tasty food, and we both have better manners than Smokie…could I perhaps have a scrap of sausage?”
Whap!
Smokie leapt from the floor in a spiraling leap, not unlike a mako breaching the water, to attack Kitty’s tail. Kitty looked down his nose at the kitten on the floor. His expression was a classic feline glare where the bigger the eyes, the more angry he was. Not a hint of the single-eye-squeeze was left. Smokie licked his chops and swished his tail as he continued to prowl around the table legs. Kitty got back to the matter at hand. The squint returned. I continued eating my sandwich. Kitty leaned forward, right eye squeezed nearly shut. (He never squints the left eye; he wants to channel all the sympathy in as straight a line as possible to me.) Kitty shuffled a few inches forward on the chair and craned his neck. I sighed and looked at what was left between the pieces of bread. Kitty sniffed and risked a glance at the food.
 I was pretty much full, so I pulled out a slice of sausage and tore it in two for the hungry vultures. Kitty, knew victory was imminent, and he hopped down from the chair and waited by the food bowl. As soon as the meat hit the bottom, the single-eye-squint evaporated and he swooped in. But Kitty is not only a good negotiator, he is also well versed in the game of keep away. Although Smoke had galloped around to the bowl and swiped it out from under Kitty’s face, the wily old cat had already claimed the prize. I have watched this scenario play out almost daily, so I waited for Smokie to grab the bowl before I put his portion in it. Then I was able to finish the rest of my food in peace. No shark attacks around my ankles and no more beggars seated across from me.

Thursday, October 1, 2015

The Very First One



Hi!
This is my first blog post, so I really have no idea what to write. I suppose I’ll introduce myself, explain why I decided I needed a blog, and share pictures of my cats. (Because this is the Internet…And it’s my blog!)

I’m Lydia; I am twenty-seven, I enjoy writing, baking, hand quilting, reading, eating good food, gardening, and dabbling in a whole host of artsy things. I am not an expert in any of these fields, but I do love sharing things that I find inspiring, or beautiful, or entertaining.  I have been telling stories and writing them in some form or fashion for pretty much my whole life, so that’s as close to “expertise” as I can get. I’ve learned that there will always be someone better at everything than I am, but if I sit around waiting to be the best--or even be good--at something, it’ll never happen.
Smokie. He's also called Fuzzems.

That’s why I have decided to start this blog. I want to learn, I want to try something new, and I want to stretch myself. I’ll probably look back on this “fist blog ever” and be embarrassed in years to come, but we’ve all got to start somewhere!   


Kitty. Also known as Mr. Evil