Make something foolproof, and the world will hand you a better fool.

For weeks now, I've been planning what I was going to bake for my designated Thanksgiving task: dessert. By request, of course. I've scoured my favorite baking sites, looking for the item(s) that would be tasty, look difficult without too much work on my part, and that everyone would like. Surprisingly, I quickly found what I was looking for, and decided to make PW's Pumpkin Pecan Caramel cheesecake with a Gingersnap crust, and CM's White-Chocolate Ribbon Pumpkin Bundt cake with Maple Glaze. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. Plus, for an added bonus, I figured that the cheesecake was foolproof, since PW so kindly lays out in pictures step-by-step explanations on how to make the delectable cheesecake.

Make something foolproof, and you'll find a better fool, right?

So last night was the night to make the cheesecake. I have been slowly accumulating the necessary ingredients for a few weeks now, in order to not blow my grocery budget out of proportion. I assembled all the ingredients on the counter in front of me, and got to work.

Step 1: Crush the gingersnaps in a food processor, or large Ziplock bag, mix with chopped pecans, brown sugar, and melted butter.

Psh. No problem. And since my motto is, "I'm not lazy, I'm efficient!" I decided to go with the Ziplock route in order to avoid washing another dish. Halfway through the crushing process, I discover that my heavy-duty Hefty Zip-lock bag has a hole in it, thus getting gingersnap crumbs all over my counter. No big deal. But because I went to a sustainably-conscious school, I hate to waste another plastic, non-biodegradable bag, so I resort to the food processor route.

Now, I've never used a food processor in my life. Frankly, it looked like too much work to put together and clean. But I needed those gingersnap crumbs, darn it! I pulled it out of the cupboard and set it on the counter. Looked simple enough: put the bowl and blade on the stand, dump in the food, screw on the lid and push the 'On' button. Hmmm, the 'On' button isn't working. Maybe the 'Pulse' button? Hmm, still not working. Maybe this outlet doesn't work. So I moved it over to the other side of the kitchen and repeated the same steps as before. Still not working. Well this processor looks as old as the hills, so maybe it's broken? Or maybe there's a safey 'On' switch on the bottom or something. After inspecting the mahcine for a few minutes, I finally realize that all of the little components have to line up just right in order for the machine to turn on. Oops. And after that, it works like a charm -- not only do I get my finely-ground gingersnaps, but finely-ground pecans as well! Mix in the brown sugar and melted butter, and press into a springform pan. Hmm, it looks a little more crumbly on the bottom than I'm used to, but I followed the recipe and it's sticking to the sides, so it shouldn't really matter. Let chill for 30 minutes. Life is goooooooooood, and I am a kitchen Master.
After the crust is sufficiently chilled, I took it out, and following PW's instructions, drizzled some caramel ice cream topping on the bottom of the crust. Pour in the pumpkin filling, and stick in the oven. Mission accomplished!
While the cheesecake was baking, the instructions said that your house should be starting to smell "heavenly." Mine was starting to smell a bit "smoky." I wandered into the kitchen to check the cheesecake's progress, and could see a fine plume of smoke coming from the oven's exhaust vents. I cracked the door open, and a whole wave of smoke billows out. What the #$%(&#$ hell!?!?!? I'm not sure WHAT my grandma cooked last in our oven, but there is some kind of liquid on the bottom that is causing some major smokage. I quickly opened the windows and doors, grabbed a dishtowel and started fanning out the kitchen, praying that the smoke detectors wouldn't go off. I repeated this process about 5 more times before the oven timer went off. When I opened the oven door one last time, I noticed that something was dripping off the pan, onto the bottom of the oven. That's when it hit me: That caramel sauce? The cheap stuff that I got at WinCo? And the crust that didn't look packed-in enough? AND THE FREAKIN' SPRING FORM PAN THAT LEAKS?!?!?! Yes, I now have liquid carmel on the bottom of my oven, and burnt on to boot. Which should make the cake and rolls I have to bake tonight a really fun process.
Hope my family doesn't mind their desserts with a bit of a smokey...er, rustic, aftertaste. Yeah, we'll call it rustic.
Or we'll be making a last-minute jaunt to Costco for one of their apple pies.

Happy Thanksgiving!

My Aunt, the Martyr

I just had the following conversation with my dad's sister, via texting.

Aunt: Good morning. Would it be possible for u to bring down grammas cardtable with u? Mike is bringing down the bbq for Cary and doesn't have room.
Me: Sure, no problem =] (SIDENOTE: See how nice I'm being??)
Aunt: Thank u. We're thinking for dinner and the puzzle it would be a good thing. We're going to head down to Pacific City in a bit to watch the surfers and have a crab cakes egg benedict, and a bloody mary ;-)
Me: You're killing me, Smalls! Tonight I'm making one of the desserts, which now I'm debating sharing with everyone =P
Aunt: Hmmmm. I'm doing it for gramma really....it's a sacrifice....
Me: Oh sure. Just like I sacrifice for the economy at the Black Friday Sales!
Aunt: Yeah, something like that. And I do so enjoy being a martyr :-)

CRUEL, I TELL YOU!!! Most of my family is at the beach, and I'm here in the city for 2 more days for work. The injustice of it all is hard to bear sometimes.

The Rules of Chocolate

If you've got melted chocolate all over your hands, you're eating it too slowly.

Chocolate covered raisins, cherries, orange slices and strawberries all count as fruit, so eat as many as you want.

The problem: How to get 2 pounds of chocolate home from the store in a hot car. The solution: Eat it in the parking lot.

Diet tip: Eat a chocolate bar before each meal. It'll take the edge off your appetite, and you'll eat less.

If calories are an issue, store your chocolate on top of the fridge. Calories are afraid of heights, and they will jump out of the chocolate to protect themselves.

If I eat equal amounts of dark chocolate and white chocolate, is that a balanced diet? Don't they actually counteract each other?

Money talks. Chocolate sings. Beautifully.

Chocolate has many preservatives. Preservatives make you look younger. Therefore, you need to eat more chocolate.

Put "eat chocolate" at the top of your list of things to do today. That way, at least you'll get one thing done.

A nice box of chocolates can provide your total daily intake of calories in one place. Now, isn't that handy?

If you can't eat all your chocolate, it will keep in the freezer. But if you can't eat all your chocolate, what's wrong with you?

If not for chocolate, there would be no need for control top pantyhose. An entire garment industry would be devastated. You can't let that happen, can you?

Allow me to introduce you

I have bad knees. I have size 11 feet, aka skiis. I like to wear my pants a little longer in the leg to allow more freedom in footwear choices (heels, flats, the like). Keeping these facts in mind, the footwear choices are a bit slim. At least if I'm looking for cute women's shoes, as opposed to the men's running shoes I have to buy on occassion.

That is, if your definition of "on occasion" is 90% of the time, since most shoemakers haven't caught up with the common era and have realized that not everyone is the perfect sample-size-7.


Anyways.


Allow me to introduce you to a modern-day miracle of footwear.


-sigh-

Isn't it beautiful!?

Yes, my fine feathered friends, this is the classic patent-leather peep-toe slingback heel, made by Mr. Cole Haan. A shoe designer who has gone where no other non-athletic shoe designer has gone before, and teamed up with Nike to pair his shoes with the Nike Air technology. Which means that with any other shoe, my entire body would be in agony after wearing these shoes for a day. BUT. with these beauties, I am literally walking on air all day. And you have to admit, the black patent-leather is such a classic, it will never go out of style. Which, in addition to the Nike comfort-factor, is probably a reason these puppies run about $300/pair.

But that's where my shoe fairy tale actually comes true. Not only did I find these 3 years ago at Nordstrom, only dreaming of the day when I could call a pair my own. Not only have I gone back time and time again to drool over them on display. Not only did I find them in a size 11 at the Rack (the shoe haven for all plus-sized shoe wearers.)

Oh no. What really puts the icing on the cake is that I paid $80. TOTAL. Location, size, price, and comfort? Now THAT is a modern-day fairy tale.



Mock me if you will, but after so many years of uncomfortable and ugly shoes on my feet, I've come to appreciate this amazingness for what it really is.

The Ugly Truth

It's an unfortunate fact of life that there are homeless people, many of them living in the metropolitan areas of cities. Whenever you walk around downtown Portland, 9 times out of 10 a homeless person will ask for money or food. While Jesus told us to care for the homeless, in this day and age, you never know if the money you give will go towards food and shelter or an addictive drug habit. Which is why, 9 times out of 10, I ususally say, "I'm sorry," and walk away.

Unfortunate, but true.

Today was one of those rare times where a guy, sitting in the rain, shivering, asked me for money. Now, granted, I was on my lunch break and in a hurry to get to the library and back in my alotted 45 minutes, but the minute I said, "No, sorry," I had an "aha" moment and remembered that Jesus asked, "When I was hungry, did you give me food? When I was thirsty, did you give me something to drink?" I decided that on my way back, if he was there, I would give that man some money. I passed him on a different corner on my way back, gave him some money, and could honestly see some gratitude in his eyes -- a feeling that helps me feel like I'm doing the right thing.

However.

As I continued on my way back, I passed some punk-ass kids sitting by the animal fountains by the courthouse, holding a sign that said, "Trying to get drunk." Now, normally I'm the kind of person who thinks something along the lines of idiot kids, and pass by, but for some reason today was the day where it sent my blood boiling. I actually stopped and told those kids in the nastiest voice I could muster "Yeah, good luck with that," and continued walking. I mean, I'm sorry, I usually try not to judge, since one can never know the full story of the people living that life. But when there are people living on the street because their house foreclosed, or they lost their job, or some other truly sad event, doing everything they can just to get by. And then you see punk-ass kids not finishing high school, not trying to become productive members of society -- no, they're sitting begging for money so they can get drunk, fall down and crack their head open, and then go to the hospital where I, a productive tax-paying citizen, get the privilege to pay their bills. And then they feel that they are entitled to free healthcare, giving them another excuse to drink without consequence.

If you want to be "honest" about the use of the money you're begging for -- fine. But don't expect me to contribute MY hard-earned money towards YOUR unhealthy habits. Finish your education and learn what a healthy lifestyle really means.

It's Raaaaing, it's poooooooouring, the old man is snooooooring

Welcome to Oregon, the land of perpetual winter rain.

Last year after a spring of torrential rains, my car started leaking underneath the dashboard on the drivers side. Which meant that the floorboards of the drivers side were always nice and sopping wet – a great feeling when you had to drive in heels. Since the car was still technically the property of my parents, they paid to get it fixed while I was home for Christmas break. The problem was traced back to a cracked drainage pipe that had also gotten clogged with Portland’s finest pine needles. After patching the drainage pipe, clearing out the clog and my dad paying the bill (thanks Dad!) I was on my way, to enjoy the rest of the spring rains blissfully dry in my nice warm car. I thought my problems were over.

Silly me.

So imagine my justified annoyance when I got in my car yesterday to go to work, and was welcomed with a quarter-inch of water resting peacefully on the floor of my car…this time, on the passenger side.

Sh*t. Seriously!?

And of course it’s on a day that I’m already running late. I ran inside to grab a beach towel to soak up as much of the water as I could, and then threw it in the garage to hopefully start drying out. When I finally got to work, first thing I did (after calling my dad to complain) was to call the Ford dealership to bring my car in first thing Saturday morning. My boss overheard, and his oh-so-helpful suggestion was, “Well back in the day when cars were much simpler we would just drill a hole in the bottom to let the water drain out.” Oh THANKS, that’s a fabulous suggestion. I’d rather NOT, thankyouverymuch. So, now I get to go without a car for the weekend while it’s getting fixed and pay through the nose to boot, all so that my car won’t leak and therefore smell like mold for the rest of its lifetime.

On a much brighter note, I’m getting little reminders everywhere I go about what season is coming up (or is it already here? According to the Target ad, The Season was here in October). The flower shop in my building already has decorated Christmas trees in the window, there are miniature Christmas trees around Pioneer Square, and there are twinkle lights wrapped around all the trees. I’ve decided to show some uncharacteristic restraint this year and wait for the tinsel-wrapped light-post decorations before watching Love Actually and Just Friends (the quintessential Christmas-movies of our generation, you know), breaking out the *NSYNC Christmas album, and baking Christmas cookies.

Fortunately, that basically means waiting until Monday.

Future

I live with my grandmother, who isn't exactly what you would call 'tech-savvy,' or even 'tech-literate.' In fact, I kind of think that today's electronics intimidate her a little bit. But, then again, I don't really blame her. When my grandpa was alive, he took care of anything electronic in the house: checking smoke alarms, checking e-mail, recording TV shows on the VCR, heck, even setting the alarm clock. After he died, not only was it a shock for her to start living life as an elderly widow, but also to take all of these tasks on herself. I remember the night we tried to teach her something as simple as setting the alarm clock. It took a good 30 minutes, along with written instructions, and 2 years of practice before she finally got it down. Two years ago, my aunt and uncle got her a DVD player -- the entire machine has about 3 buttons on it (they claimed it was "foolproof.") Even with written instructions, I still have to be home in order for her to watch a DVD.

And this isn't necessarily a bad thing -- just another part of the generation gap. And it goes both ways; I know that my great-grandmother would have been appaled to know that I not only don't know how to knit, but I have never canned a fruit or vegetable in my life. But it makes me wonder, what kinds of things will intimidate me when I'm my grandmother's age? No one can really imagine what kinds of things are going to exist tomorrow, much less 50 years from now. Will I be as confused with technology as she is? Will my grandchildren be rolling their eyes at me when I ask what I assume is a legitimate question? Will I be completely baffled by something as easy as ordering a pizza for dinner? (I'm having flashbacks to 'Back to the Future' with that one).

Can you tell I've been reading 'The Time Travelers Wife'?