Miss T's Mystery House of Yarn & Horrors

Spring On the Inside

Outside -- blech.  We won’t even talk about that.  My indoor garden is putting on a show, though.  Blooming right now are:

Peace Lily.  This plant normally has much bigger flowers, but it produced a little one so as not to be left out.



Shamrock.  Yes, it’s the purple variety.  I love this plant.  I got it at a garage sale a few years ago, just a couple of leaves in a tiny pot.  It’s grown like mad since then, and blooms all the time.



Christmas Cactus.  Mine blooms at least twice a year, around Christmas and around Easter.  So far, only one flower.  At Christmas it went crazy with at least fifteen.



Geranium.  I cut this plant back to nothing but stumps at the end of the summer, and brought it in the house.  It’s filled out beautifully, and has bloomed several times over the winter.



Kalanchoe.  Isn’t it cute?



Hyacinth.  I couldn’t resist this at the grocery store the other day, and I’m glad I didn’t.  It’s not only blooming, it’s perfuming the entire first floor.

Just waiting on my windowpane plant now.  Still growing, hasn’t opened up its blossoms yet.  Soon!  I think the outside should take a clue from the inside, don’t you?

Resurrected Crab Chops

When I hear about the floodwaters rising in Fargo, where I once lived, I can’t help but think about the tremendous fear of loss people there must be feeling.  How do you protect the truly important things, the photographs and letters, the keepsakes which mean something only to you?  And what if you can’t?  Houses, cars, TVs....those things are replaceable.  But what if you lost all your family recipes?

It’s a terrible thought.  My recipes -- no, not my cookbook collection, much as I love it, but my cache of handwritten family recipes -- are some of my most treasured possessions.  How would I ever get them back if they were lost to a flood, or to a hurricane to end all hurricanes?  Okay, there aren’t hurricanes in the upper Midwest.  But on the Gulf Coast -- think about it.  Yep.  Many of the folks who suffered through the disaster and the indignities of Katrina lost all their recipes, too.  How well can you really recover from something like that if you can’t even comfort yourself by making your mom’s recipe for chili?

I think it would be impossible.  And so did many others, because they started writing to the New Orleans Times-Picayune, begging the food editors to help them replace the recipes they’d lost.  The editors and writers did their best to help, by digging through their archives and encouraging folks who still had their family recipes to contribute them.  Lost things were found.  People felt better.  And out of that effort, a really wonderful cookbook was born:  Cooking Up a Storm, edited by Marcelle Bienvenu and Judy Walker.

There are so many good things in it that choosing one to try was difficult.  In the end, it came down to the fact that I don’t believe it’s possible to have too much crab.  It’s not even possible to have enough crab.  So since there’s good crab in the stores right now, crab cakes it was.  Or, as they evidently call them in New Orleans, crab chops.  Isn’t that a great name?


Crab Chops, adapted from Cooking Up a Storm
(Serves 2 to 3, depending on your feelings about crab cakes.  Okay, if we’re being honest, 2.)

1 Tbsp. butter
2 scallions, chopped
1 Tbsp. AP flour
1/2 c. milk
1/2 pound lump crabmeat
10 saltines
half a large egg, beaten (beat one egg, but only use half of it)
1/4 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. cayenne
1/8 tsp. Tabasco
cracker meal or bread crumbs
butter
oil

Start by prepping the crabmeat.  Which, if you are in a landlocked area of the country and lump crabmeat is hard to find (and heinously expensive), you’ll have to pick yourself. 

Messy, but worth it.  I buy about a pound of crab to get a half-pound of meat.

Smush up the saltines, while you’re making a mess.

Saute scallions in butter for a minute or two.

Then add flour and milk, and stir well to make a thick, white sauce.  This will happen quickly, don’t fret.  Remove pan from burner.

 

Now mix the crab, saltines, egg, and seasonings into the scallion mixture, and set it aside to cool.  Putting it in the fridge will speed that up, of course.  When it’s cool, make it into patties.  Not too big and thick, or they won’t cook properly.  Dredge them in cracker meal or breadcrumbs. 

I used breadcrumbs, but I probably should have smushed more crackers instead.  The M.E., our resident frying expert, tells me that cracker crumbs don’t burn as quickly.

In the spirit of testing the recipe, we fried these in a mixture of butter and oil.  But 100% oil would have worked better.  The crab chops got a little darker than we liked (in order to be done), but oooh.  Tasty.  Very tasty.  I’d definitely make this again.

We tried the tartar sauce recipe from the book, too -- that’s the white glob in the photo.  It’s quite different from my usual tartar sauce recipe, but very good.

Tartar Sauce, adapted from Cooking Up a Storm (this is the right amount for the quantity of crab cakes above)

Mix together: 

1/4 c. mayonnaise
1/2 Tbsp. sweet pickle relish
a little bit of chopped scallion
1/2 tsp. fresh lemon juice
1 dashes Tabasco
Creole seasoning to taste

Don’t bother searching for Creole seasoning in the store.  You can easily throw some together.  I sort of followed Emeril’s recipe on this page.  “Sort of” means that where he calls for a tablespoon, I used a teaspoon, throughout.  Because I didn’t need a giant jar of the stuff.  And I cut down the salt.  Takes two minutes to make, with spices you probably already have, and is way cheaper than buying a pre-mixed jar of the stuff.

I know I’ll try many more recipes from Cooking Up a Storm.  It’s full of marvelous things, both restaurant fare and home food, including things I haven’t seen in other books from that region.  To be sure, this is a book that’s well worth adding to your cookbook collection.  I love the spirit of it, the sharing of family treasures, and the great tidbits of Gulf Coast food history it contains. 

But I still haven’t had enough crab.

There It Goes

Three stems this year!

What Have I Been Doing?

Knitting, of course.  I haven’t said much about it lately, but lots of projects are in progress:

Garter stitch scarf is done.  “Done” means the knitting is done.  It will be “done done” when the finishing is finished.  I think I’m going to add a pink vintage button or two, and I saved a small ball of the yarn in case I need to make i-cord loops for buttoning purposes.

Stonewall is great TV knitting, as you can see by the length of it.  I think I’m into the fourth of five skeins of Silky Wool, assuming I didn’t miss one in my stash bin.

I haven’t gotten very far on Honeybee, but I sure do like it.  The yarn is just gorgeous, and I love the way it’s knitting up.

I’m almost to the toe on the M.E.’s sock.  Got a decent bit done during our tax appointment with the accountant last Friday.

Rabbit Tracks.  It’s been knit at least to this point, ripped out completely and knit all over again so that I could change the edging.  This is for the class I’m teaching on knitting lace with chunky weight yarns.  Did I mention I’ve been teaching?  Last month was a class on basic scarf design, next month will be cable wraps, and I’ve got a few other things planned, including a shibori felting class.

This is a new design I’m working out for the cable wraps class.  Stumbling blocks have been jumping up right and left, trying to trip me up, but I’m too stubborn for them.  I will finish it.  And yes, assuming it all comes together in a good way, the pattern will be available.  Sometime.  Soon, I hope.  I have two more patterns in progress, too.  You can see one of them on my Ravelry page.

And at long last:

See that stitch just to the right of the yellow marker?  That is the very last stitch in the body of Mandala.  I am now ready to start the edging.  Rows and rows and rows of tedious edging.  Obviously, edging is not my favorite part of a shawl project like this.  But it does mean I’m in the home stretch.

So, why so quiet?  I don’t know.  I’m in the beginning stages of another ginormous project, one that I expect will mean at least three years of work, and I think it has laid claim to the brain cells that produce words.  It’s a wee bit challenging and scary, and that has put me in a tremendous mood for comfort food, comfort everything.  (There will be comfort food this Friday!)  Comfort knitting.  Lots more comfort knitting.  All I want to do is knit.  Hide out and knit.  But I’ll be back. 

One of Those Weeks

No recipe this Friday, because we haven’t eaten anything much this week.  Leftovers.  Popcorn.  Cheese & crackers.  I had something planned for today, but the ingredients are still in the fridge, wondering why I’ve forsaken them.  Next week (I hope) should be better.

For today, I’m just going to link an article for you about a truly good spirit, cook, and author of some terrific cookbooks.  I used to eat at Sammy D’s now and then when I was in college, and have fond memories of the good food and warm greetings.  So long, Mama D.  Rest in peace.

Small and Necessary Deviance

This week has been nothing but mistakes, crankiness, fixing things and brain-sucking calls to Comcast.  If I picked it up, I dropped it.  If I wrote it down, I very soon erased it.  If something seemed straightforward, it wasn’t.  And if I knit something, yeah, I probably ripped it.

I’m hoping to make a turn back towards better things and a better mood by getting into a little bit of feel-good trouble.  So, at long last, and in complete defiance of all the unfinished projects rattling around in my knitting box (and, I admit, strewn over chairs, sofas and tables), I cast on for Honeybee.  Also here.  (No, it doesn’t have a weird pink edge.  That’s a provisional cast on with a crochet chain.)

And then.  With even less justification.  But with deep desire and poutiness.  I bought this kit.

I’ve bought gorgeous yarns before.  Many of them, those of you who are observant might observe.  But I have to say that this one blows most of them away.

It glows in the photo, yet you really have to see it in person to get the depth of the color.  I saw it and worried that, as a hand-dyed work, this color might not be there if I waited two years to get around to buying it, so I threw all reasonableness to the wind and clicked.  I’m so glad I did.  And I won’t hesitate to buy from The Woolen Rabbit again.  Her work and eye for color are really top-notch.

Big skein, too.  Just as big as the one for Honeybee...

I suppose I have to be good and finish that one first, don’t I?  Since I only just started it.

Korean Spicy Chicken & Potatoes

This is so incredibly good, there’s no point in saying much else.  It’s really, really good.  Good, good, good.  Delicious.  Scrumptious.  Mouth-watering.  Succulent.  Nummy.  You should drop everything and make it immediately.

If you make this dish and don’t try to distract the other people in your house by shouting Look!  Isn’t that a UFO?  Get the camera! so that they’ll turn the other way long enough for you to lick the last bit of sauce out of the pot, I’ll be shocked.

It’s preposterously easy, too.  Dump everything into one pot, all at the same time.  (You may want to cut back on the amount of chile paste.  I used two tablespoons, and it was plenty.)  Cook (covered for most of the time) for 45 minutes, suspending all disbelief. 

Serve over rice.  Inhale with great abandon.  You won't have any difficulty with that last part.

Tracks From a Very Big Rabbit

Harrisville Heathered Bulky.

Rabbit Tracks.  The pattern is available here.  I’m only following the stitch pattern, not the gauge.  That’s the great thing about lace.  You can knit it with any weight yarn, as long as you can manage the stitches.  Really complex patterns won’t work with big yarns, but Rabbit Tracks is very easy.

Size 17 needles!  Likely to be done before I know what’s hit me!  And if I know what’s good for me, I’ll finish it today, cocoon myself inside it and not come out.  I do not believe spring is coming.

A Finished Piece

I did finish something last week.  It wasn’t knitting, though.  My MIL’s birthday is this week, and as a resident of the steamy state of Florida, she doesn’t have much use for knitted things.  But she does love her horse.

I wasn’t thinking about documenting this when I started it, so I don’t have a photo of the beginning, the very rough pencil work.  And, I admit, I was a bit terrified of it at that point and making only the most tentative marks.  See, it’s been years since I’ve done one of these.  I wasn’t actually sure I still could, but the theory was that if I made a huge mess out of it we could always run to Barnes & Noble at the last minute and get her a gift card.

This is the intended victim portrait subject:



Here’s the middle point:

I don’t remember ever working so slowly on a drawing before.  Took me most of the week, but I really did not want to screw it up.  I had some bright white illustration board to work on, and boy is that stuff nice.  Yes, I know it looks grayish in the picture, but it’s not. 

Okay, here’s the finished piece:

A little fixative, and the M.E. wrapped it in multiple layers of tissue and plastic and bubble wrap.  Off it’s going to UPS later today.

I hope she likes it.

Nancy Drew's Corn Pudding

Most of my kitchen experiments are about the recipes -- things that I really want to try -- but some are definitely all about the cookbooks.  See, I collect cookbooks not simply because I love to cook, but also because I enjoy them as books, and as cultural artifacts.  Some I buy just for the fun of it.  Like the Nancy Drew Cookbook.



Isn’t that a ridiculous cover?  I mean, if I had designed this book, I would have put one of those great, classic Nancy Drew illustrations on the cover, with her in the kitchen trying to solve a turducken mystery or something.  Not some generic early 1970’s tablesetting with pineapple rings.  It’s fabulously tacky.

The recipes all have mysterious names, of course:  Black Key Mystery Patties, Invisible Intruder’s Coconut Custard, Sleuth Soup.  I had to try one, and making the choice was the hard part.  I wasn’t in the mood to try a breakfast thing or a dessert thing, so I picked a dinner thing.  You know, I should have gone for the breakfast thing.  But sometimes, I have to push my luck and try a recipe that’s truly a cultural artifact in itself.  Why do I do this?  I don’t know.

The concept behind Mystery Corn Pudding is basically sound.  (And the name is perfect!)  A good corn pudding involves corn.  And milk, eggs, usually cheese and other seasonings.  This recipe has all that stuff.  But the form of the corn....it’s a mystery why the recipe writer would choose this ingredient, such a cunningly mysterious mystery that I was driven to try it and see what would happen.  Follow along...

Mystery Corn Pudding, adapted from the Nancy Drew Cookbook, 1975 edition

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

Beat 3 eggs.

 

Yep, those are eggs.  I know, not the most exciting photo.

Add other stuff: 

3/4 cup milk (I used skim)
1 Tbsp. Worchestershire sauce
1 Tbsp. sugar
1 Tbsp. flour
a couple Tbsp. onion, minced
a couple Tbsp. parsley, chopped
1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper (I couldn't resist)

And then, the secret ingredient:

I’m not kidding.  This was why I had to try it.  It’s just so odd.  And I had -- unbelievably, I know -- experienced creamed corn used to good effect in a Chinese-American recipe, so I wasn’t opposed to trying it again in something else.  Check out the article by Mark Bittman here.  It’s worth reading, and worth trying.  (Actually, it’s too bad I didn’t go back and read that article again before making this, because the trick he used with that recipe might have worked here, too.)

No complicated techniques, just pour in the corn and stir it all together.  Who’s that little green guy behind the bowl, you ask?  Why, that’s my helpful little tiki cup.  Helpful because he contained some very nice ruby port.  Cook assistance, as it were.

Dump the mixture into a buttered casserole dish.  Then, Nancy advises that you crumble cheese crackers over the top before baking it.  Well, I decided to put them on closer to the end of cooking so they wouldn’t burn.  Because I just couldn’t crumble them.  They were too cute.

This recipe just isn’t getting more sensible, is it?  I really had to go for broke here, it’s true.

Bake at 325 degrees for an hour.  This gives you plenty of time to put a nice spice rub on some pork chops, and to prep the last brussels sprouts of the season.

It all came out looking very pretty.  The bunnies were so cheerful.  We were hopeful.

But it really wasn’t a proper corn pudding.  Sorry, Nancy, I love you, but you haven’t got a clue how to make corn pudding.  The creamed corn had the mysterious effect of making the whole dish bland and sort of quichelike.  In fact, creamed corn has such intense powers of blandification that we couldn’t even detect the cayenne.  Worst of all, it really didn’t taste all that much like corn.  Which a corn pudding should certainly do.  And the bunnies eventually got soggy, which was rather sad.  It wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t anything to get excited about, either.

And that’s the real mystery.  How a dish with what seemed to be proper ingredients can turn so boring with the addition of just one unusual thing.  I think I’ll wait until late summer, when I can get my hands on some real corn, and take a crack at solving The Secret of the Real Corn Pudding myself.  Without help from Ms. Drew.