Would it be awesomely delicious or barftastically nasty to make bread pudding using day-old doughnut holes rather than bread? The concept came to me on Monday as I was biking to work and I’ve been mulling it over ever since. Was it a divine revelation or was it the Devil himself the sowing seeds of culinary mayhem in my weak little brain?
The Yankee Fan voted in favor of the divine; maybe I’ll test it out on him. Happy Valentine’s day baby!
Archive for January, 2008
Am I the only person under 30 who totally digs marmalade? My impression is that people of my generation just aren’t that into jam in general. Maybe I’m wrong. I hope I’m wrong. I mean, toast and jam, that’s a darn tasty olde tyme snack! I don’t even have a toaster and it’s still one of my favorites. Yes, I’m killing the earth by turning on the broiler just to make toast.
Perhaps if all of young America had my dad as a dad there’d be more jam/marmalade love. The man can’t get through the day without his fix. I remember there always being a jar of King Kelly orange marmalade in the fridge when I was a wee lass. Weekday PB&J lunches for got the questionable Smuckers “reduced sugar” strawberry or grape gunk, but on Saturday, which was frequently biscuit-making day, we’d all dig into the K. K. These days there are usually four or five open jars of something at my parents’ house–the ever-faithful King Kelly, something berry-ish, something weird, something homemade by one of my mom’s coworkers. I was talking to my mom last night and she complained that my dad had blown through an entire half pint of pomegranate jelly (a gift to her) in a couple days without her getting so much as a taste. I think he could subsist hummingbird-style, sucking down black currant jelly by the gallon.
Anyway, a couple weeks ago I decided to make marmalade. My parents have not one, but three ridiculously productive Meyer lemon bushes, and every time I’m in Davis they try to unload a few bushels on me. They’re darn good lemons, sweet and juicy, but even I can’t use 5 a day. So I looked on the internet, and yes, there is such a thing as Meyer lemon marmalade. Flavored with brandy! mmmm…I’m no expert canner, but my friends, this stuff was amazingly easy to make, and it came out all thick and pretty and golden yellow. I started out with just 6 jars in case it turned out to be nasty, but IT’S SO GOOD!!!
I got all fired up to make millions of jars. Then I thought, who the hell am I going to give lemon marmalade to? I could think of two for-sures and a couple maybes. But you know what, I’m going to boil it up anyway. If nobody in my admittedly miniscule social or work circles wants any I’ll just give it all to my dad. I’m sure he can handle at least 5 jars a week.
Seeing as my anxious nature leaves me more or less constantly resolving to do or improve X and Y while simultaneously agonizing that I have failed to do thing Z that I resolved to do 2 weeks ago, I’ve never been too excited about New Year’s resolutions. Last January I did decide that I would make a concious effort to refuse plastic bags unless absolutely necessary, and tenderly wipe clean and reuse little clear plastic produce bags. And I have to say, I stuck to it. There ain’t no wad of SafewayLongsThankYou bags under my sink, friends. But now that it’s 2008, and I’ve already single-handedly saved the environment, and things at work are slow as molasses, I thought I’d kill some time pondering self improvement.
Here’s a great resolution I thought of: NO PUBLIC WHISTLING UNLESS YOU ARE THE ONLY PERSON IN EARSHOT OF YOU. This resolution is not for me, because I don’t whistle. It’s for all the people who whistle both tunefully and intentionally untunefully in proximity to me, usually in a situation where I can’t really bolt for the exit. Like I’m at work or something. Dude. Shut UP! And also stop clicking your clicky pen for no reason while you whistle. I realize I could resolve to be more tolerant of others, but I gave up on that a long time ago.
Here’s a resolution I thought of for me: HAVE HOT CEREAL FOR BREAKFAST 80% OF THE TIME NOT COUNTING SATURDAYS BECAUSE THAT’S FRIED EGG SANDWICH/FRENCH TOAST/WAFFLE DAY. I do eat a lot of hot cereal already; more than the average American, I’d venture to say. And I like it. I like oatmeal (the real kind, not the nasty packet kind). I like Cream of Wheat. I like oatmeal and Cream of Wheat mixed together (no, it’s good! really!). I like thinking, as I eat my oatmeal, that my breakfast only cost me 15 cents to make. But many times when I arise from the warm coocoon of Morning Edition and 3 layers of blankets, I find myself disinclined to boil water and stir things. I’m ensnared by the TJ’s Honey Nut O’s crooning their siren song from the top of the fridge. Not this year! Shut it, O’s! Come Sunday night I’m making a big ol’ pot of the finest oatmeal-Cream o’ Wheat blend and parcelling it out into little tupperwares, one for each workday. 52 weeks x 5 workdays x 15 cents=$39 for a whole year of weekday breakfast.
Heh. We’ll see how long that lasts.
I also just decided to resolve to get rid of all my million year old socks with holes. I think I can manage that one. If nothing else it’s a good excuse to go to Target.
