Emperial Apples
4 parts butter 5 parts flour pie crust
makes a giant pie
and a lot of peals (for the wormies--who I thought I had killed but are still alive!)
Tonight is The Jer's Birthday so the pie is (mostly) for him.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
not knowing what to do with myself
Today, I was called off work at 6 am. This left me not only neurotically insecure--Don't they love me anymore?!--but also without a daily activity (something I really can't stand). So, I brushed aside my hurt feelings and decided to take advantage of the slight nip and crystal clearness of a Fall morning in San Diego and drive up to Julian for apple picking/eating/subsequent-pie-making. On the way, we stopped at the waterfalls at Cuyumaca State Park: the falls were lovely and hummingbirds followed us around while drinking from the more nectar-like drippings of the creek (no exaggeration). Some pictures:
Emperial Apples
4 parts butter 5 parts flour pie crust
makes a giant pie
and a lot of peals (for the wormies--who I thought I had killed but are still alive!)
Tonight is The Jer's Birthday so the pie is (mostly) for him.
Emperial Apples
4 parts butter 5 parts flour pie crust
makes a giant pie
and a lot of peals (for the wormies--who I thought I had killed but are still alive!)
Tonight is The Jer's Birthday so the pie is (mostly) for him.
Monday, September 6, 2010
pictorial evidence of my gustatory existence
Here are some pictures of what I have been up to over the last five months.
In May, I briefly resurrected the Cream Queenz for MIHO
In June, I was drinking Micheladas with Lulu in Austin
Later in June, I had picked and salted olives from trees in the central coast and marinated them with thyme, lemon zest and chili flakes
July was busy. First I went to the fair with Allie and ate this piece of American artistry:
They called it a Texas Tater Twister. Mid July saw the advent of cupcake city when I started working full time for these guys: chocolate cake with cherry-marshmallow frosting, coconut tres leches cake with lime and pistachio frosting, lemon buttermilk cake with peach tea frosting and candied spicy pecans...
Late in the month, I got my first taste of Ensenada in the form or a stegosaurus-sized clam filled with every type of sea food imaginable, including slug.
Needless to say, this clam convinced me that I need to go to Mexico more often and did just that in August for the grape harvest festival in the Valle de Guadelupe. This is when I ate fried cricket tacos and loved every bite of them (picture forthcoming). By the end of August I was eating at Nobu Las Vegas with a certain Argentine permanent resident to see how their version of an Alfahor stacked up.
Not pictured is the part where we ate barracuda with miso powder and milk poached garlic chips. YUM.
The end.
In May, I briefly resurrected the Cream Queenz for MIHO
In June, I was drinking Micheladas with Lulu in Austin
Later in June, I had picked and salted olives from trees in the central coast and marinated them with thyme, lemon zest and chili flakes
July was busy. First I went to the fair with Allie and ate this piece of American artistry:
They called it a Texas Tater Twister. Mid July saw the advent of cupcake city when I started working full time for these guys: chocolate cake with cherry-marshmallow frosting, coconut tres leches cake with lime and pistachio frosting, lemon buttermilk cake with peach tea frosting and candied spicy pecans...
Late in the month, I got my first taste of Ensenada in the form or a stegosaurus-sized clam filled with every type of sea food imaginable, including slug.
Needless to say, this clam convinced me that I need to go to Mexico more often and did just that in August for the grape harvest festival in the Valle de Guadelupe. This is when I ate fried cricket tacos and loved every bite of them (picture forthcoming). By the end of August I was eating at Nobu Las Vegas with a certain Argentine permanent resident to see how their version of an Alfahor stacked up.
Not pictured is the part where we ate barracuda with miso powder and milk poached garlic chips. YUM.
The end.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
today was a suburban day
Thanks to Edmunda, I am jumping back on the blog-train. Complete with a makeover, Dirty Toes is back! I am no longer in Hawaii and I am no longer in Argentina. I am, however back at my parents house in San Diego. To give you a taste of that life, here's what I did today:
To start things off, I went to work for two whole hours. After that exertion, I came home and read an article about the damaging effects of plastic water bottles in the local COOP’s newsletter and implored mother to stop buying plastic water bottles. Feeling responsible, I spent six minutes watering the potted tomatoes and dwarf citrus trees on the front patio. Then I went to yoga class—the sweaty kind—and followed it up with a visit to the aforementioned COOP where I bought three pluots, two Bosc pears, two ruby grapefruits, a small grouping of yellow dates shaped like quail eggs, a bunch of rainbow chard, some spinach and a guava Kombucha. All of this (excepting the Kombucha, which I drank in the car) I carried home in my own, 100% post-consumer recycled grocery bag. Now I’m blogging. Mummy said she brought home some wild Alaskan Salmon from Costco so I am now to go cook it. With the spinach of course.
Sometimes it is too easy to make fun of myself.
To start things off, I went to work for two whole hours. After that exertion, I came home and read an article about the damaging effects of plastic water bottles in the local COOP’s newsletter and implored mother to stop buying plastic water bottles. Feeling responsible, I spent six minutes watering the potted tomatoes and dwarf citrus trees on the front patio. Then I went to yoga class—the sweaty kind—and followed it up with a visit to the aforementioned COOP where I bought three pluots, two Bosc pears, two ruby grapefruits, a small grouping of yellow dates shaped like quail eggs, a bunch of rainbow chard, some spinach and a guava Kombucha. All of this (excepting the Kombucha, which I drank in the car) I carried home in my own, 100% post-consumer recycled grocery bag. Now I’m blogging. Mummy said she brought home some wild Alaskan Salmon from Costco so I am now to go cook it. With the spinach of course.
Sometimes it is too easy to make fun of myself.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Promises
I can promise you a new post with pictures in the next couple of days. Patagonia is incredible. My new farm in GORGEOUS and the people here are beyond admirable. However, right now I'm sketching outside of the lodge for internet access and my fingers are freezing.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Why Maggie Coleman Should Spend Time in Buenos Aires
Today as I cafe-hopped, read Hemingway and, generally speaking, concerned myself with being a massive cliché, I pondered my next blog post. My new living arrangements? The nightlife in Buenos Aires? Empanadas? All of these are blog-worthy subjects and I was intent on describing to you the scene outside of my apartment (destroyed pet owners waiting nervously outside the 24-hour emergency veterinary clinic) when one of the many ice cream delivery vespas in the city zoomed by my curbside table. That's right: vespas with freezer boxes on the back that zip around the city-center delivering helado to all their loyal customers. Seeing as there is an heladeria on every other corner in this city (literally five within a four block radius of my apartment) the need for a delivery system is quite a testament to the importance of this foodstuff in the city. One might be tempted to compare it to potatoes in Ireland in the late 1800s, but that would be a ridiculous hyperbole I guess. The point, however, is that if you are having an ice cream emergency, your neighborhood heladeria is there to save you. Rain or shine. This service, along with the prevalence of fine leather goods (bags and shoes!) stores in this city make me think that Maggie Coleman really should pay Buenos Aires a visit ;)
Monday, January 25, 2010
Update
Thank goodness for friends! Kristen has put together a wonderful blog post on our last month here in Buenos Aires. Do check it out!
Since she did all the dirty work, I will spare you a recap of the last three weeks and will, instead, focus in greater detail on yerba mate (which people, you may have heard, like to drink here). In order to properly enjoy mate a la portena, one needs a guampa (hollowed out gourd) and a bombilla (a metal straw-like device), hot water and the processed yerba which constists of roasted leaves and sometimes stems. The idea is that you pour hot water into the gourd over the loose yerba mate and drink from the filter-tipped bombilla until you make a slurping noise and then pass the gourd to your friend who fills it up again with hot water. Sounds like fun, no?
Well, consider this: Wikipedia tells me that the caffeine content of yerba mate can be up to 1.7% of its dry weight. Compare this with coffee which maxes out at .9% and it becomes readily apparent that yerba mate is no wuss of a tea. I learned this lesson the hard way when, a few days ago I roasted myself some Yerba Mate according to the Paraguayan custom. I first tried "cocinada negra" (literally: cooked black) at Casa Felix (an independently blog-post-worthy experience). The two (small) cups, which I consumed quickly on the heels of four glasses of wine, seemed, at the time, a pleasingly mild stimulant. I enthusiastically asked Sandra, the "cocinadera," if you will, how I could recreate this at home and she willingly described the process: 1) combine one cup of mate with 3/4 cups sugar and push around in a saute pan until the sugar starts to caramelize and the yerba turns from green to dark brown. 2) pour hot water over the sugar and yerba mixture to deglaze the pan and make your tea. 3) strain and enjoy.
The two generous cups I enjoyed in the morning may as well have been two massive cups of crack with high-fructose corn syrup on top but when the shaking and heart palpitations were over, i wondered if I would do it again... "hell yes" i heard a little voice in my head say.
Since she did all the dirty work, I will spare you a recap of the last three weeks and will, instead, focus in greater detail on yerba mate (which people, you may have heard, like to drink here). In order to properly enjoy mate a la portena, one needs a guampa (hollowed out gourd) and a bombilla (a metal straw-like device), hot water and the processed yerba which constists of roasted leaves and sometimes stems. The idea is that you pour hot water into the gourd over the loose yerba mate and drink from the filter-tipped bombilla until you make a slurping noise and then pass the gourd to your friend who fills it up again with hot water. Sounds like fun, no?
Well, consider this: Wikipedia tells me that the caffeine content of yerba mate can be up to 1.7% of its dry weight. Compare this with coffee which maxes out at .9% and it becomes readily apparent that yerba mate is no wuss of a tea. I learned this lesson the hard way when, a few days ago I roasted myself some Yerba Mate according to the Paraguayan custom. I first tried "cocinada negra" (literally: cooked black) at Casa Felix (an independently blog-post-worthy experience). The two (small) cups, which I consumed quickly on the heels of four glasses of wine, seemed, at the time, a pleasingly mild stimulant. I enthusiastically asked Sandra, the "cocinadera," if you will, how I could recreate this at home and she willingly described the process: 1) combine one cup of mate with 3/4 cups sugar and push around in a saute pan until the sugar starts to caramelize and the yerba turns from green to dark brown. 2) pour hot water over the sugar and yerba mixture to deglaze the pan and make your tea. 3) strain and enjoy.
The two generous cups I enjoyed in the morning may as well have been two massive cups of crack with high-fructose corn syrup on top but when the shaking and heart palpitations were over, i wondered if I would do it again... "hell yes" i heard a little voice in my head say.
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