Setting the bar on new levels of shame.

1 Comment read Everything is Terrible

Yesterday, I felt worse than I have in years. I’m blaming something I ate; the unfortunate part is that all I had the day before were home-cooked meals, so if I got food poisoning, I did it to myself. I like the idea of food poisoning much better when I can cast the blame elsewhere. Then again, Jason ate everything I did and was fine, so…?

I don’t know about you, but when I feel cruddy, one of my go-to home remedies is to take a hot bath. Usually, I’ll try to keep my hair out of the water, but inevitably some will get wet and turn into an unattractive snarled curlfro. Then, I put on a well-loved pair of comfortable sweatpants, as evidenced by the paint stains and the hole in the crotch, turn off all the lights, and curl up under a blanket in front of the TV and moan. There is nothing wrong with this ritual, and I challenge you to tell me otherwise.

However, what I didn’t expect was that yesterday the mailman would bring all of the mail up to the front door, including a giant box of candy for a party I’m throwing in a few weeks. I had to go and get the door in order to stop the dog’s “Oh god! Stranger danger!” barking frenzy…so there I was. A complete wreck, with greasy hair up top and a tangled, curly, matted mess below, a tank top, a nasty chipped manicure, sweatpants stained with craft goo and a hole in an indecent area, skin pale, sweaty and clammy, reaching outside and sweeping my box full of candy into my dark hovel like some sort of candy troll. I’m sure that looked GREAT. You caught me, mailman. I’m mainlining cinnamon bears, and I’ve been going through withdrawals, so that is why I look like crap.

Oooh, that smell! Can you smell that smell?

2 Comments read Everything is Terrible

I can’t believe this actually exists. Who decided, “Yes, please, I would like to suffocate from the pervasive aroma of Garden Sweet Pea while I assemble a puzzle”? Do people actually buy them? Is the addition of perfume bringing puzzles back?

I note they are intended for adults. Why can’t children savor Midnight Jasmine? It’s not like 300 pieces is beyond the reach of a dedicated child. Or did they mean “geriatric” in place of adult and couldn’t think of a nice way to put it on the box?

It’s a puzzle, to be certain.

Berries slain in anger and pie

4 Comments read Masticating With Mellzah

Even though days that feel like summer in the Pacific Northwest have been fleeting, it’s still harvest time for blueberries. Last weekend, Jason and I found ourselves at the Henna Blueberry Farm as their blueberry season starts a week or two earlier than other farms–the reason being that they are protected from some of the rain by a large nearby hill, so they ripen faster.

Holy shit, it’s a giant blueberry! Aww, it’s just me.

At the end of our vigorous picking endeavors, we found ourselves with nearly 10 pounds of blueberries, which, if that sounds like a lot, is in reality even more than that. Most of them are destined for the freezer, for the the times of year when blueberries are out of season and ridiculously expensive, but in the meanwhile, we’ve been eating blueberries on cereal, blueberries with lunch, blueberries with dinner, blueberries as a snack…We’ve made blueberry sorbet, and I’ve even made a blueberry pie. This is a big deal for me, as I’m terrible at making pie. I’ve had crusts burn, fillings erupt like a volcano all over the oven bottom, crusts turn out rubbery and tasteless; what I’m saying is that pie is not my forte.

However, this time I was determined to do it right. After cutting the butter into cubes, I put it in the freezer for an hour. I iced my hands before handling the crust, and even then handled it as little as possible. Between steps, the crust rested in the fridge. This made the pie-making process much longer than I’m used to, but I’m also used to not wanting to eat the pie after I make it, so obviously the fast way wasn’t working. For a fun touch, I used my pirate toast stamp to vent the top. I also foiled the edges of the crust to prevent them from burning, and placed a parchment-lined pan beneath the pie in case of filling explosion.

The foil pulled off some of the edge crust, so while it’s not a pretty pie, it IS a delicious one. The filling isn’t too sweet, it stays where it belongs when cut instead of slopping around, and the crust is flaky in a way I assumed no pie from my kitchen could ever be. Pie success! Now, if only I could learn how to make food look appetizing in a photograph instead of gross.

…Only 8 more pounds of blueberries to go.

Recipe can be found here.