I Ain't Mad

Usually December rolls around and I'm crying and screaming about how G-D busy I am and how it's non-stop stressball city, but strangely, these past few weekends in December have been surprisingly low-key.  Yeah, we've had stuff to do, but it's never been like, two days of 3 solid outings each day, which makes for a pretty relaxed December, I must say.  

Making the decision to scale back on the gift buying has also been a godsend.  If you have the means, I highly recommend it.

I've had SO MUCH TO SAY lately, and such a backlog of book/movie reviews, but the past three days straight I've been in training to be certified for the Joint Health and Safety Committee at work.  I'd rate this training a solid 8/10.  Extra marks for lots of gratuitous stories about manufacturing accidents.  Extra marks for the emergency preparedness/Boy Scouts dimension of being on the Joint Health and Safety Committee.  The training culminates in a 40 question multiple choice, open book test.  They expect you to get 26/40 correct in order to pass.  If you DON'T pass, they mail back the test with the incorrect questions circled and you get another go.  I'm vaguely worried that I might not pass and then I'll be mighty embarrassed.  I have a history of not doing well at easy tests (see: my G1 driving test experience).  

So yeah, the weekend.  On Friday night we had Indian food.  On Saturday, we had Chinese School (winter term, yo!  Seasonally appropriate vocabulary - "snowman"!) then we went for lunch with Momma D at Great Nany's condo.  Ummmm...they don't build condos like they used to.  This condo is granted, in Etobicoke, but it's FREAKIN' HUGE!  Two bedrooms, giant living area, dining room, eat-in kitchen, two bedrooms, balcony.  Look at how cute Nany is - this is how she did the table:

By the way, this woman is 90.  And she made us caesar salad (Nany DOES NOT skimp on the dressing, it's mad saucy, as Dr. Rei would say) and chili and is working on her 9 millionth crocheted afghan.  We also got mad gossip about her life!  Like the fact that Poppa's mom (who was Catholic) refused to go to Nany and Poppa's wedding on account of the whole Catholic marrying a Protestant thing.  Plus you get to hear lines like this: "Nany (Nany's mother in law) was always saying how beautiful Honey is.  Now, I mean, Honey is pretty, but I would never say she was beautiful."  She's just a firecracker of a woman.  Love her to bits. 

On Sunday, I went a little buck and cranked out mad stuff.  First, I did all the cookie boxes for the neighbours and their cards and delivered them.  Then I made chocolate babka, the Smitten Kitchen by way of Martha Stewart's mom's recipe.  It's supposed to make 3 babkas, but I followed what Deb did and made two biggies and three mini loaves.  I'm liking this recipe more than my usual, Gourmet Magazine one, because it's chocolatier and the yield is more.  Plus, the loaves puffed out a tonne more than the Gourmet version.  However, I'm on the fence about the streusel topping from Deb's recipe.  First of all, it made TOO MUCH streusel topping.  Secondly, the streusel topping was really dry (I've never heard of confectioner's sugar in a streusel).  I like the idea of streusel, but I might do my own and do less (I ended up chucking a lot of streusel).  Do you think I've hit my mentions-of-streusel-in-a-single-paragraph quota yet?  If not, I'm definitely almost there.  I haven't cut into a babka yet (they were lovingly wrapped and frozen), but I'll report back when I do.

Then, I went on a Chicago deep-dish pizza mission, inspired by my Discerning Coyote friend's contribution to Pie Party a few weeks back.  This was very successful.  I made some tweaks to his version (using corn oil instead of olive oil and then substituting a 1/3 of the amount of oil with melted butter) which resulted in something pretty close to what I had in Chicago.  NOW WE CAN EAT DEEP DISH AT HOME WHENEVER THE F**K WE WANT!  Like, for instance, on Friday I'm having some of the gyals dem from my Canoe cooking days over and I'm going to make it again.  It's pretty easy!  The whole recipe (reproduced below) is predicated on a no-knead (you don't want to develop the gluten) dough and like, a raw tomato sauce topping.  Cinchy!

Last night I met up with Dr. Rei and we went to the mall and split an Orange Julius and basically had the best time ever.  I love that girl so much.  Then we met up with Bwong at Santouka Ramen but the line-up was super long and we got kinda spooked by the size of the bowls of plastic restaurant food they had in the front window.  You know that thing Japanese restaurants do where they show you what they got with the plastic food?  Anyway, the bowls looked MAD SMALL!  So we basically left in a huff (after inching forward a bit in the line) and left guns blazing about how everyone else in line was a chump because of the small bowls, and about how they didn't have gyoza OR karaage.   We ended up at Raijin Ramen, which doesn't get as good reviews as Santouka, but is huge and had no line and was a quite, calm experience.  Also: they have gyoza AND karaage.  Look:

See?

The karaage was boss.  Super-juicy, crispy chunks of boneless chicken thigh.  So good.  They also do this Japanese poutine thing, which is fries, teriyaki, mayo, scallions and cheese curds.  This was tasty, although I would have liked the fries to be more crispy.  The flavours were great - with an interplay between chewy, gooey, salty, sweet, and creamy:

Finally, the ramen.  I got the tonkotsu shio (they do tonkotsu shio or shoyo, but no straight up tonkotsu?) which comes with pork shoulder, half an egg, some fungus, and chunks of cabbage (?).  The broth was nice and milky, though a touch bland.  Not oversalted, which was good.  The noodles weren't al dente and the pork shoulder wasn't fatty!!!  It was kind of dry and chewy and I was pissed about the cheapness on the egg.  HALF AN EGG?!  The cabbage was a weird touch and I wasn't completely on board.  But I wasn't OFF-board either.  At any rate, I'd come back for a quick, affordable, meal with good appetizers and a quite, calm atmosphere with no lineup.  Either way, it's a better bowl of ramen than at Kenzo or Ajisen, but not as good as Kinton (lineup) or Sansotei (my favorite):

So the Big Yam is the best and keeps getting better!  He's so funny.  As he learns to string more and more words together, it's amazing what comes out of his mouth.  So on the heart-melty side you have him saying, "I lofves you, Mama."  On the conceptually-funny side you have him saying, "Maybe" as in, "Maybe...Auntie Rei coming..." last night to the Dotytron when the Dotytron told him where I was and why I wasn't at home.  Then on the hard-to-maintain-a-straight-face side, you have him in time out on the stairs, reciting his version of this book:

We had him in time out, and then from the stairs, he was talking to himself going: "It's my hot dog!  MINE!  That's it! Tastes like chicken.  Needs mustard." all disjointed and doing this funny little hoarse voice (when the Dotytron reads the book he does a broad, New Yawk, Brooklyn-type accent for the pigeon).  The Dotytron and I were almost crying trying to hold in the laughs on the couch.  It was awesome.  Those moments when you're supposed to be stern but he's making you laugh are so good.  I'm going to try to get it on video.

Then the other night we watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas for the first time.  I fell asleep, but the Dotytron said that the Big Yam started spontaneously slow-clapping when the Grinch has the change of heart and zooms down the hill to return the presents...AND THE DOTYTRON STARTED CRYING.  LOL!!! So good.

Also, he does this fake Chinese which would be completely racist if a white person was doing it.  I'll try to get video of that, too.  

Anyway, I love him and last night I almost snatched him out of bed for an impromptu Sleep Away Camp because I didn't get to see him all day.  But I left him alone in the end.

Fin.

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Chicago Deep Dish Pizza

makes enough to fill a 12" 2" deep cast-iron skillet, which is enough for about 6 hungry people, with salad

2 1/4 t. yeast

1 1/2 t. sugar

1 c. (approx) tepid water

3 c. all purpose flour

1 1/2 t. salt

6 T. corn oil

3 T. melted unsalted butter

4-5 links Italian sausage, casings removed

1 small onion, thinly sliced

garlic

1.5 balls of mozzarella cheese, sliced into 1/4" slices (not the fresh mozzarrella, which is too wet)

1 28oz can San Marzano tomatoes, whole

a few sprigs of fresh thyme

1 t. dried oregano

- proof the yeast with the sugar in the tepid water for 10 minutes or until the yeast starts to activate.

- in the bowl of your stand mixer with the dough hook attachment, add the flour and the yeast mixture.  Mix for 1 minute.  Add the salt and the oil and butter, mix for another 2 minutes maximum.  The resulting dough will look kind of shaggy...almost like a firm biscuit dough.

- what gives the dough the texture you're looking for is the LACK of gluten development, kneading.

- scrape the dough into an oiled bowl and let rest, covered in a warm, dry place for about an hour.

- when it's proofed and doubled in bulk, gently punch it down and then press it along the bottom and up sides of your cast-iron skillet.  The dough should be pretty relaxed and easy to work with.

- while the dough is proofing, take the sausage out of the casings and cook, breaking up the large chunks with a spoon with the onion and garlic until the onion is really soft and sausage is cooked through.  Use a slotted spoon to remove sausage and onions and leave the liquid in the pan (the extra liquid would make the pizza too wet).

To assemble:

- preheat the oven to 400F

- spread the cooked sausage/onion mixture along the bottom of the prepared pie crust

- add the slices of mozzarella evenly on top

- take the San Marzano tomatoes out of the juice in the can (discard the juice) and crush with your fingers over top of the cheese, spreading the tomatoes all over the top.

- sprinkle with the thyme (off the stalk) and the dried oregano and some cracked black pepper.

- bake until crust is golden brown (approximately 30-40 minutes in my oven).

In Case You Were Wondering

...those honky grandmas still be trippin'. J/k! J/k!

Academic Book Club was Thursday night.  In which I got trotted out to the recently gutted and renovated GIANT downtown Victorian home of another Book Club member, a home that makes Lil' Ugmo look BEYOND ugmo.  4 levels, Sub Zero fridge (!!!), Montauk sofa (!!!), in-wall modern fireplace (!!!), those bleached grey hardwood floors, finished basement, yoga room/gym.  OY.  How am I supposed to host after seeing all that?!

Then you talk to these ladies and it's just...I do love them dearly but sometimes I can't believe how different we are.

We read Zadie Smith's NW, which I really disliked (full review to come).  To me, the book seemed to be white, New York Times reading, benevolent intellectual bait.  Like there was a checklist of post-colonial literature traits being offered up and fetishized for a white, privileged gaze.  Of course, this lead to talk about The Wire.  I feel like hearing some of them talking about The Wire perfectly encapsulates my discomfort with the way The Wire has been taken up.  It can be so self-congratulatory at times, like, I get it.  This is what IT'S REALLY LIKE and now I'm a privileged insider! - when the issues of poverty, the choices people in those situations make, the crumbling school system, even something as small as the culture and style and the music are so far removed from your reality.  And that's not to say that you can't appreciate it, but that you have to be mindful that your appreciation isn't based on a fetishized, reified notion of those lived realities.  So that you're not using them so that you can cluck and bemoan from the safety of your existence which is so far removed from theirs.  That you don't fix them in that state.

At one point in the discussion, one of the members was talking about how the Toronto District School Board is crumbling and how Palmerston Junior P.S. is feeling the effects of no money.  That school is in the Annex.  THERE IS NO WAY THEY ARE DIRECTLY FEELING THE EFFECTS OF TDSB FUNDING SHORTFALLS.  The Dotytron's school?  Yes.  I can buy it.  At Palmerston, the kids do Shakespeare with full costumes and sets (it's a JUNIOR school), and one of the Annex artsy playwright parents in the 'hood does the staging.  C'maaan.  Don't act like you know firsthand about inequities.  Your kids live such privileged lives!!  You're the ones fretting about getting into a "good school" district and buying a house where they'll have access to such.  You can't even get your kid to keep their mittens on, and look at me askance when I ask, "Can't you threaten them?" (which is totally legit.  The Big Yam totally keeps his mittens on and puts on his hat, because he knows his little keister is going to get hauled back inside pronto if he takes them off...AND I CAN WAIT ALL DAY).  Do we all have these contradictions?  Of course we do.  BUT ACKNOWLEDGE THEM!

Ugh.  "I don't understand how Rob Ford can win an election! It's all the suburbs' fault!"  (Newsflash: that patronizing attitude is COMPLETELY why).  When's the last time you guys ever ventured to Dufferin and Lawrence?  Or Scarborough?  Or Flemingdon Park?  Or Fairview Mall?  Stop acting like you know what's best for the people who live there and talking about your stupid plastic bag ban like THAT'S AN ISSUE THAT ACTUALLY MEANS ANYTHING FOR ANYBODY WHO HAS REAL PROBLEMS.  Also: stop talking about Rob Ford.  Who cares?  What power does the Mayor actually have?  It's one vote out of all the City Councillors.  Stop getting distracted and pay attention to the issues that actually matter and that will actually help you accomplish the goals you need to accomplish.

Then talk turned to General Petraeus and they started on the generally accepted liberal attitude that is like, "who cares what goes on in people's private lives!"  The great unwashed with their prurient interests - it's like Clinton!  People getting swept up by scandals that distract from the real issues."  (P.S.: you're getting just as distracted from the real issues).  Here's my thing with the Petraeus thing.  HE WAS A GIANT NOOB ABOUT IT.  Same with Clinton.  Same with Adam Giambrone.  I can TOTALLY get fired from my job if I happen to be surfing the net on company time, using company computers, and looking at an art spread from Vogue that features boobs.  It doesn't happen generally, BUT IT CAN.  SO WHY CAN'T SOMEONE WHO HAD AN INTER-OFFICE AFFAIR AND BROUGHT THEIR MISTRESS INTO THE OFFICE TO HAVE SEXUAL RELATIONS WITH THEM BE FIRED?!????????  That's just being unprofesh.  I work really hard to protect my professional reputation, so why can't they?

I also feel like there's a disgusting, permissive sexism to it.  Like a very, "that's just what men do."  Uhhh...being a walking cliché is not just what men do.  I called out the book club on it, too.  I was like, guys, if you found out that I was being cheated on and that I stayed with the Dotytron, you would totally be all judgy judgy up in my grill about be me being a doormat and what a d**k the Dotytron is.  Cheating on your spouse is generally, pretty wrong in my books.  It means that someone shies away from making hard decisions, is selfish, and is a giant liar (this is separate from my views on nonmonogamy and polyamory).  Why do we want giant, dillweed liars in positions of power?  You know who I feel was unjustly vilified?  Elliot Spitzer.  That guy did it right - prostitutes at hotels.  He wasn't bringing those broads into work and doing it in the staffroom.

Finally, JJ was wondering about the stand-offishness of some of the SAHM moms at the daycare and me and J were like, "why do you want to be friends with moms?" which also got us some sidelong glances.  As I've always maintained, I don't want to be friends with someone who defines their self by one aspect of their personality.  Like, "I'm a knitter.  I'm a mom.  I'm a dog person."  The only time someone defining themselves with one trait would work is if they said, "I'm into the human condition."  Just do you.  Don't be a MOM.  People are nuanced, complicated, and interesting.  Honor that about yourself.  Don't be like that lady at the Drop-In Centre I know, who has three kids and can only talk about that.  The middle one recently just started school, so when I saw her at the Drop-In, I was like, "It must be so nice to only have one at home now!" and she's all like, "Uh-oh.  Oh no.  One is harder than three.  I always say that.  One at home is so much more difficult than having three."  And in my head I'm like, RELAX, LADY.  Just own your life!  Don't be so passive-aggressive defensive about it!  So you're at SAHM with one at home.  That's cool, yo!  It's not cool when you wear your insecurities on your sleeve and try to convince me of something that I know for a fact defies the laws of physics.  This is the same mom who is Chinese but has mixed-race kids.  So she "only" speaks Cantonese to her kids.  She does the same with the Big Yam when J brings him to that drop-in.  Guys, her Chinese IS THE WORST.  It basically sounds like this:

Her accent is soooooooo bad!  I'm kinda like, "Uhhhh...could you NOT speak your butchered Cantonese to my kid, please?" It's kind of hilares, really.

Last night's pre-Academic Book Club meal was chili & fixins again.

Friday night the Big Yam got to pick our dinner (Advent Activity #7) but since he's not good at articulating, well...much of anything...we got takeout from Moti Mahal because we knew that if he could articulate his desires, he would want to eat Indian food and not, like, "IPad. Picture. Moon. Please" (which was one of his answers when we tried to ask him).  The little dude is SUPER into this awesome solar system/space app right now and his favorite thing is looking at "picture moon" and then telling us that "sun star."  I CAN'T HANDLE IT, GUYS.  HE'S GETTING INTO SCIENCE!!!

The food was sooooo good.  Their samosas are the flakiest/crispiest!  Samosas, parathas, garlic naan, and 4 curries (goat saag, butter chicken, channa, and sadhar paneer) for $32!

WEEKEND!

Fin.

FAIL

I didn't get the job.  Found out yesterday early afternoon.  I was pretty gutted about it and had myself a pretty unprofesh subdued, trying-not-to-but-not-very-successful cry at my desk and then a bit of a pity-party lunchtime walk with Dr. Rei.  By the time I got home, I was feeling more myself.  I don't know that it would have been a complete perfect fit.  Plus, it was an internal candidate, so my chances were slim anyway.  If anything, I'm feeling chuffed that out of 350+ candidates, I was obviously good enough to give the internal a run for their money and make the decision-making that much harder for the people hiring.

It's demoralizing because I'm all like, uhhh...do you KNOW me?  I have Red Bull running in my veins!  I've done two graduate degrees (both while working full time, one while on maternity leave!)!  You could basically hire me for a job where I have NONE of the qualifications and I would kick about 50 different kinds of a** because I'm an exceptional person.  I think that for the sector I work in, I've got too much zing.  I think people are looking for someone with less ideas and enthusiasm and someone more meek, and if that's what they want, then I can't give that to them. Plus, I love love love my current job and I find it fulfilling and it affords me a pretty exceptional work-life balance, so at the end of the day, I didn't lose.

I'm a lucky button, still.

I came home to this from the Dotytron, who went and got me treatsies from a new, local French bakery, Bonne Journée, as a pick-me-up:

See?  I'm a lucky button with a lovely boo.

Then, the Roomie and sweet baby T came over so I got to look at this little mug while I ate my dinner:

See?  I'm a lucky button with amazing friends and adorable babies in my life.

So we had a nice long visit and I got to squish T and listen to her funny little hooting laugh and gossiped with the Roomie and planned our New Year's Eve plans and then I busted out my glue gun to finish my new and improved yarn-wrapped wreath, because my long-awaited new shipment of vintage Shiny Brite ornaments arrived yesterday:

See? Could the successful candidate do THIS?!  I don't bloody well think so!

Also, we had a splendid, rib-sticking dinner of slow cooker chili with avocado, sour cream, cheese, and cornbread on the side.

This all goes to show that when life gives you lemons, you pick up your hot glue gun and take comfort in the fact that you lead a full, fulfilling, and joy-filled life filled with good food, good friends, good family, good crafting, and love and no amount of failed job interviews can take that away from you.

That wreath was the easiest by the way (so technically, I guess the successful candidate could do it, BUT DIDN'T), and it looks classy as all f**k.  I have an allergic reaction to decorations made with cheap, plasticky dollar store ball ornaments.  They just never look...Etsy enough, for lack of a better word.  Anyway, this is a simple matter of finding ornaments and a color of yarn that produce a nice color combination - I liked the modern feel of a the tweedy brown-grey with the antiqued, faded metallic undertones of the ornaments.  First, I wrapped a foam wreath form with the yarn.  Then I took my hot glue gun out for its' maiden voyage and put a dab of glue along the edge of the ornaments so that the tops were secure and they wouldn't pop off and shatter.  Then I strung them on a 12" piece of thin, flexible, low gauge wire and alternated sizes and colors until they formed a pleasing cluster.  I twisted the wire a few times to make sure the cluster would stay put and then tied the wire around the wreath and twisted it around the back to secure it and hide the sharp edges.  Then I hung it - ta-da!

I still have the red yarn-wrapped wreath form from two years ago and I might do something similar and then give it away (I'm running out of doors to place wreaths - I put my classic, felted, "Holla!" wreath on our inner door).  

And then, to complete my full descent into young, urban, crafter cliché, I've decided that all presents this year will be wrapped in brown kraft paper and classic red baker's twine.  BECAUSE OF COURSE THEY WOULD BE.  I'M A WALKING ETSY BILLBOARD.  

Tonight we had freezer curried squash soup &amp gruyere and ham paninis for dinner and listened to holiday music (Advent Activity #5).  Even though the Big Yam's preference is to listen to his Chinese School CD, which he loves more than anything.  I guess I shouldn't complain - he's picked up two of the songs and a bunch of the vocabulary, which is reinforcing my belief that early second language introduction is both feasible and practical.

Pretty terrible picture of the Boobla (who looks 10?!) going to town on his 4th bowl of squash soup.  But I love how our tree photographs against our purple wall.

Fin.

O Tannenbaum

More muy silencio!  I was busy not-preparing for my 2nd interview for that job I really really really want (but will probably not get).  I got the call on Tuesday that I was being called for a second interview.  Whereas other people would be all "Yay! I made it to the next round!", because I'm a megalomaniac, I was all "Boo! They didn't want me ENOUGH!  What's wrong with meeeeeeeeeee?!"  It was not my finest hour.  They apparently have 3 strong candidates and couldn't decide.  Ugghhhhhhhh...I just want to be put out of my misery.  I've had dreams of the HR rep calling and giving me the "Well, it's never nice to have to be the bearer of bad news..." spiel.  The HR rep also told me that the second interview was more of an "informal chat" and that there was "no way to prepare."  HOW DO YOU TELL A PERSON WHO PRIDES HERSELF ON PREPAREDNESS THAT THERE IS NO WAY TO PREPARE?!?!!???  How?!!!???

Anyway, I had the second interview today.  I don't want to talk about it.  Except to say, I talked about my feelings again.  *FACEPALM*  Only at the end.  And only for a teensy tiny little bit.  But I did it.  I'm the worst.

This weekend was lovely and cozy and fun.  It all kicked off on Thursday night when we had fun impromptu dinner hangs with Dr. Rei and Hanbo.  We wanted to go to Caplansky's, but stupid GUY FIERI was in there, filming Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives and had closed the place down.  There is nothing worst than an heartset Caplansky's outing FOILED BY GUY FIERI.  So we ended up at Fancy Franks (my second time in one week), where we jammed to their best restaurant playlist ever and the Big Yam ate about a half cup of ketchup with his fingers as utensils.  Then when we were leaving, he made us all die with laughter by mimicking the Dotytron's "take care, man!" goodbye to Uncle Hanbo.  It was the best.  He also did this imitation of Dr. Rei's signature wind-up-a-kid dance and it was also, the best.

I had my day off on Friday and went buck with the Big Yam.  I made homemade Twix bars for freezing, I made buckeyes for freezing, I made a quiche for my Sunday brunch, and I basically did a tonne of work and then dumped him off with J and got a massage and then came home and laid on the couch eating leftover turkey tetrazzini.  It was pretty ace.  We had a lowkey Friday night and then a BUCKSAUCE Saturday that involved me taking the Big Yam to Chinese school, then Costco (in DECEMBER!!!), then to meet my mum for lunch and then back home.  Then the Dotytron went to get the tree.  It was epic.  We wrestled with the tree (we got a scotch pine, which smells wonderful but is a prickly bastard) and after that we were done.  We were supposed to go to S & P's Christmas party but bailed to go for a night time walk and to eat a special dinner just us.  Which never happens, so it was nice.  We went to the Riverside Public House and had their fried chicken:

The fried chicken there is soooooo good.  But everything else is kinda meh.  I wish you could just order a bucket of the chicken alone.  The kale is an afterthought, the mashed potatoes are gluey, and the gravy is flavorless.  But the chicken!!! Crispy, juicy, delicious, delicious, delicious.  So torn about going back.

We had a nice long walk to the restaurant and back and then we came home and hung out.  Just us.  On a Saturday night.  So nice.

Sunday we had our friends B & S and Tiggity and his wife R over for brunch.  Brunch entertaining is THE BOMB.  Everyone was out of the house by 1pm and we had the whole rest of the day!  Plus, we're already up anyway, so it's no biggie to prep.  Plus, we're usually eating a special Sunday breakkie anyway, so it's just the matter of making a bit of extra food.  I made quiche lorraine and a salad and chubby breakfast sausages and pumpkin donuts which were so freakin' good.  I'm going to post the recipe at the bottom of this post.  Or maybe I'll do it tomorrow because I don't feel like typing.  Either way: so good.  Cake donuts are relatively easy, but I think in order to make sure they turn out tender after hitting the fryer, the dough has to be quite soft and sticky which makes things fraught when you're patting and rolling.  Nevertheless, homemade donuts are a wonder and I might have eaten 10 billion (I'm back to talking to My Fitness Pal today).

We chased brunch with a visit to the Fire Station to drop off toys (Advent Calendar Day 2):

Then I had an unplanned but fun visit with E and then we went to Momma D's house to eat Festive Specials (double leg, what what!) and decorate the wee table top tree we got for her.  It was a lovely day, but exhausting.  I was spent by 8pm.

Tonight was all about decorating the tree (Advent Calendar Day 3).  So here is Scotchy McGee in all his prickly, scratchy, but oh-so-fragrant glory:

 Last week I made parsnip & potato latkes with a horseradish sour cream which I think was vaguely inspired by something on Smittten Kitchen.  At any rate, since I didn't consult the Smitten website once and since these latkes were EXTRAORDINARY and made a parsnip lover (well, not exactly, more like a parsnip tolerator) out of the Dotytron, and they were so dead easy, then I will definitely post the recipe at the bottom of this post.  We served it with freezer spinach & cheese manicotti (looking a little sad up there).

Tonight we had delicata squash cannelloni with a parmesan bechamel sauce with sage, and a salad of roasted brussels sprouts, hazelnuts, and a brown butter vinaigrette.



Fin.

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Parsnip and Potato Latkes
makes about 10 2.5" latkes

3 large parsnips, peeled
2 smallish potatoes
2 eggs
1/2 t. baking powder
1/4 cup (or thereabouts) of flour
salt and pepper
sour cream & prepared horseradish, mixed to your desired level of each ingredient, for dipping
canola oil for frying

- grate the parsnips (we ran them through the grater disk on the food processor)
- ditto the potatoes
- take the grated veggies and throw them in a dish towel, gather up the corners so you get a towel ball filled with grated root vegetables, twist, and squeeze to get out the extra liquid
- in a bowl, stir together the eggs, the baking powder, the flour and salt and pepper to taste (keep in mind that you will salt the latkes again after they come out of the pan, so just season enough at this point to keep them from being insipid).
- dump the grated veg into the bowl and toss everything with a fork until all the delicious soon-to-be-crispy veggie strands are coated.
- drop heaping spoonfuls of this mixture into a pan with about an inch of oil, heated to hot.  Fry on either side until golden and crispy and remove with a slotted spoon or some other utensil that encourages draining to paper towel-lined dish.  Sprinkle with salt.
- Eat with gusto with horseradish sour cream, plain old sour cream, or apple sauce.

No, thanks

I moved some furniture around this morning to prepare for the arrival of our Christmas tree, which has been researched TO THE TEETH by a certain Dotytron, desperate to make up for the egregious error that resulted in our scentless tree of 2011.  We have species, people!  No more fake balsam fir incense for us!  Anyway, I set up the Big Yam's stocking and this morning I knelt down and pointed it out to him and told him about how it's going to be filled with presents.  My exact words were, "Santa Claus is going to come on Christmas Eve and he...or she...is going to fill it with presents!"

I look up from my prostrate state to see the Dotytron giving me the sceptical eyes chased with a very emphatic: "Uh, Santa Claus is a guy.  Now you're going too far."  LOL!  To be fair, I was on unsteady ground and I knew it.  Pronoun changing for Santa?  No dice.

We do a lot of pronoun changing when we read the Big Yam stories because I'm trying to fight all the gender conditioning.  Like, why are tugboats and steamships always boys?  Or dinosaurs?  We love the How do Dinosaurs... (Count to Ten, Say Goodnight, etc.) series but all the dinosaurs are always referred to with male pronouns.  So we make a point of alternating pronouns on each page.  I was also so mad about how gendered things like pull-up diapers get that I got him the "girl" ones.  Because you know what?  He doesn't give two s**ts about Diego.  He likes Dora.  So he goes to bed wearing his "Dora dipe-dipes" and loving life.  

The Big Yam has been hilarious lately.  He's all about his "No, thanks!" "No, thanks, Mama," "No, thanks, Baba" lately.   J told me that yesterday she asked him if he wanted to go potty at daycare and he was like, "No, thanks!"  It's so funny.  I'm also happy he's learning some manners through osmosis. 

Last night was a fun, fun night, with a less than fun purpose.  I met up with SMcKay and we grabbed dinner and then went to a visitation for our friend's father-in-law.  We tried this new place: Fancy Franks, because no one loves a good hot dog the way SMcKay and I do.  The concept is simple - you have your base all beef hot dog $4.95 that you either dress up with your own combination of toppings (basic toppings are free, fancy ones are priced like fancy pizza toppings) or go with one of theirs.  I'm a purist, so I went with a Coney dog and then I went all outside with their "Franks got Seoul" which has shredded Korean short ribs and kimchi.  SMcKay got the pizza hot dog, which as you would expect, is a dog covered in tomato sauce, mozzarella cheese, and pepperoni.  We also split an order of fries and I got a vanilla shake.  They also do fresh, Tiny Tom-like donuts, but we were too full by the time we were done.  

The good: the fries are delicious - skinny, not too potato-y, not too crispy - more like flaccid, Montréal diner style fries.  The gravy is gooood...deep, dark, good consistency and probably powdered, which to me, is legit.  I liked both my hot dogs, but I didn't love them.  The chili on the Coney dog was missing some layers. SMcKay loved her pizza dog.  I think ultimately, my problem is with the base dog.  And the price.  The base hot dog is supposed to be an all-beef hot dog, but the texture is so fine and it has the pinkish cast of more of a pork hot dog.  I didn't think the base hot dog had great flavour, for $4.95.  Also, the price.  At Happy Dog, in Cleveland, which kind of sets the bar for this kind of establishment, all hot dogs are $5 with unlimited toppings from an epic list of like, a million.  And the tater tots are all $3 with an epic list of dips from like a million.  Granted, Fancy Franks is a lot well, fancier than Happy Dog, which is a dive of the highest order, but I'm willing to bet the beer selection at Happy Dog puts Fancy Franks to shame.  Anyway, I would go back with kids or with a group of hot dog lovers.  It was good enough on that front, but I might stick to my own topping combinations - or at least try the pizza dog.

Then we hopped into the car for an epic ride out to Etobicoke, which resulted in me listening to a Bruno Mars song and looking for Q-Tips in SMcKay's giant bag of doom so that I could "cauterize" my tongue sores with the bottle of Listerine I was packing.  Luckily, there were some Q-Tips in her bag, because I was nearing the point of applying Listerine to my mouth with a tampon.  Then we got to the visitation and had to fight through a pack of a million Shaugnessey O'Shannahans and then inadvertently cut in front of a million leprachauns to visit with our friends.  Whoops.  Then SMcKay told me that some people don't wear underwear under pantyhose and I was so thoroughly appalled that I had to re-cauterize my mouth sores all over again.  It was a good night.

Tonight for dinner we had slow cooker Italian wedding soup & cheddar, white onion, and mortadella paninis.  It's been the winter of soups and sandwiches around here!

Fin.

You'll have to excuse me...

I'm not at my best.

So, it turns out the Big Yam gave me the hand, foot, and mouth disease.  NOT to be confused with foot and mouth disease, which is what cows and other cloven-hoofed animals get (so like, goats and horses and Tim Curry in Legend).  This has been a lesson in poor parenting.  Last week the Big Yam was waking up crying in the middle of the night so we brought him into our bed for a bunch of what we call "Sleep Away Camp" and I was kind of stressing because I thought he was just getting into the habit of it and didn't want to sleep in his own bed.  THEN he got this weird speckly rash on his butt.  THEN he had pretty bad cold symptoms (cough and runny nose) and he probably had a fever but we didn't check because we're the worst.  THEN he complained about having a "boo boo mouth" but I totally told him he was faking.

BEST MAMA EVER.  LOL!  So the worst.  On Friday, when I discovered I had FIVE cankers in my mouth, I naturally assumed that I had mouth cancer and hypochondriac me was already tearing up thinking of the Dotytron raising the Big Yam alone and how I was going to control their lives from heaven or hell.  Then I realized I'd had a stressful week (I had a job interview on Tuesday for a job I REALLY REALLY REALLY want but so does like, everyone in Canada and will most likely not get, meaning this will be my 3rd consecutive failed job interview) so that was probably it, but I was still like, that's kind cray because I usually handle stress well.  I also started getting weird blisters on my feet so I was like, "I should stop wearing stockings and kicks."  Anyway, I dragged Dr. Rei EVERYWHERE on Friday during lunch looking for Listerine to gargle with which burned the hell out of my mouth and gave me temporary relief.

Then on Friday night we had S & P over for dinner and suddenly I got these pin-prick blisters on the palms of my hands and more blisters on my feet so I started freaking out.  I went to the walk-in clinic that my doctor's office holds for patients (by the way: super hooray for the Family Health Team model, province of Ontario!) and the doctor was like, 100% hand foot and mouth.  By the way, at this point, my tongue is like 30% ulcerated and I'm in constant pain and talk like I'm brushing my teeth all the time.  The good news is: the virus clears up by itself in about a week.  The bad news is: there's not a lot they can give you for the fact that your mouth is on fire.  She told me about this juju Doctor's Book of Home Remedies bulls**t that consists of rinsing your mouth with equal parts Benadryl and milk of magnesia but that barely works.

In summary, my kid had hand, foot, and mouth and we did the following:

a) ignored him
b) told him he was faking
c) stressed about how we were going to "wean" him off of his only source of comfort (Sleep Away Camp)
d) sent him to daycare

BEST!  Apparently only kids and babies get this virus but occasionally it makes the jump to immune compromised adult humans (so in addition to not getting the job, the stress from the interview gave me s**t mouth, great).

I spent the weekend starting The Vampire Diaries which is pretty bad but also good because it features the signature teenaged Karl-Lagerfeld plot bait that is "the-bad-guy-who-falls-in-love-with-the-heroine-and-is-somewhat-but-not-fully-reformed-of-his-sexy-brooding-misunderstood-badness" (see: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Veronica Mars, EVERY HARLEQUIN ROMANCE EVER).

Then on Sunday we went to Canadian Tire to pick up Christmas lights for the front of Lil' Ugmo and I basically had a melt down and LEFT before paying to sit in the car in fulminating, sullen, tear-filled silence while the Dotytron paid for the purchases with the Big Yam.  Here is the context: EVERY YEAR the Dotytron complains about how we don't have a plan for our lights and how he doesn't like them.  Every year, I've put them up.  So this year I was like, let's do it up proper.  We go, and the Dotytron did this thing that he does where he gets all weird and super-unhappy about shopping for anything that's not a pick-up for his Tele or like, vintage records, and was all abdicating responsibility for the decision-making and I got super-frustrated and then gave up and had a meltdown which resulted in: leaving the Big Yam and the Dotytron in line to pay for our purchases to sit in stony silence in the car, followed by tears and lots of f-bombs at the house.  IT WAS CLASSIC HOLIDAY SEASON ME.  BUT ALSO CLASSIC HOLIDAY SEASON DOTYTRON.  Because I'm the one dealing with both families and making sure that people get presents and making sure that things get made for his family's various holiday potlucks and also getting stuff for the Big Yam and making sure that he gets a special holiday.  So yeah.  All the equality stuff I was rhapsodizing about in the previous post goes out the windows during the holidays through a combination of: being a psycho, lack of delegating, lack of communication, and internalized martyrdom.  Anyway, in order to mitigate that stuff I'm going to put him in charge of contributing something for the Doty family Christmas.  And otherwise delegate stuff out so that I'm not the only one responsible for the MAGIC OF THE HOLIDAYS.  I hate myself for even talking about that right now.

Related: I find it weird when grown adults get amped about presents.  I just can't wrap my head around it.  It's so not me.  I'm of the school where if you want something, you go out and get it your own damn self.  I guess there is the case to be made for stuff that you want but will never get for yourself?  But I dunno...all the things I want, I'll get.  The notable exception being: one of these head massager thingies

which totally feel amazing and that I totally want but can never justify getting for some reason.  Although last Friday while I was dragging Dr. Rei around everywhere, she was like, "It's $5. TREAT YO' SELF."  So I did.  See how simple that process was?  I get that it's one thing when someone sees something in some Moroccan bazaar that is PERFECT for that other person and that other person is never going to be there to get it themselves and so they buy it as a present.  I totally get that.  Or when it's motivated by you seeing something thoughtful and going and grabbing it in the moment.  I just don't like the whole, birthday and Xmas need to produce manufactured pressure.  I just took a look at my own list of "stuff I want" and yup, I plan on getting all that stuff someday.  I'm trying to think of what I would want someone to secretly surprise me with and I can't think of a single g-d thing.  What can I say, I'm a self-reliant, endlessly practical person.  

I served P & S this gorgeous pork & poblano stew from the slow cooker - we destroyed it.  I served it with salsas, corn chips, and shredded cabbage.  There was supposed to be avocado too, but stupid Chinatown bargain basement avocadoes were mad bargain basement.  

For dessert: coconut tres leches.

Saturday night's dinner was similarly divine (though it doesn't look like much). Turkey tetrazzini - turkey and egg noodles and mushrooms with leftover gravy-jumped bechamel and leftover brussels sprouts folded in, baked with a crispy panko topping.  Casserole love!  

Served with bacon roasted carrots and parsnips.

Last night's dinner was inspired by April Bloomfield's cookbook, A Girl and Her Pig.  I made us ribeye with chimichurri, roasted broccoli with lemon & garlic, duck fat roasted potatoes (!!!!!) and sautéed mushrooms.

Tonight I get to dine with SMckay!

Fin.

Muy Silencio...But Agradecido

It's been muy silencio around here lately.  Apologies for that.  I can't say that I've been doing anything spectacularly interesting with my time.  Just reading, some minor crafting, and mobilizing forces and schedules and energy reserves to face the coming onslaught that is: THE HOLIDAYS.  Plus, after the whirlwind that was Friendsgiving and Pie Party, I think I've needed to just zone out and decompress as much as possible.

One of my favorite things currently is coming home and making sure I get into the house quietly, so that I can watch the Dotytron and the Big Yam in the kitchen getting dinner ready.  It's just funny and cute watching them interact.  For example, from my vantage point at the front door yesterday, I saw the Big Yam standing on the stool by the sink and then he said, "Woooooowwwwww," followed almost immediately by the Dotytron going, "DON'T EAT THAT! IT'S YUCKY!" because apparently he had plucked a piece of last night's leftover turkey from the SINK DRAIN and stuck it in his mouth.  The Big Yam's drawn-out, "wooooooowwwww" is so awesome.  Mostly because it sounds vaguely sarcastic and it's always random things that prompt it.  

My other favorite part is when the Big Yam realizes I'm home and shouts, "Mama!" and then comes running out to tell me about whatever is on his mind (usually as of late, Dora-related) and gives me a big hug.  It's a cute little ritual that warms the cockles of my heart.  Last night he came running to the door and said, "Mama!" "Moon. Stars." which was pretty freakin' adorable - the Dotytron and the Big Yam had been talking about the night sky on their way into the house.

I think the heart-warmth comes from feeling so grateful that I have a partner in life, love, and parenting who shoulders an equal amount of responsibility for the big stuff.  As a younger, more biting feminist, I used to have a very black and white view of equality.  Equality meant that EVERYTHING was 50-50.  Finances?  50-50 (regardless of differentials in earnings).  Household chores?  50-50.  I'm still pretty bad about stuff but being with the Dotytron has resulted in incremental steps towards less rigid parameters.  The problem with being rigidly 50-50 about everything is that I'm a micro-manager.  So even if I expect my partner to do 50% of something, it still has to be done to my specifications.  That is like, totally obnoxious.  I can admit it.  Having the Big Yam has definitely helped to relieve the micro-managing.  I had no say on what happened during Dotytron Daycare in the summer.  Sure, if I wanted the boys to get some shiz done, they had to work that into their day, but I wasn't responsible for packing the snacks or the bag or figuring out activities.  I like the freedom it gives me to be able to do book club or a movie night without having to "worry" about what the Big Yam and the Dotytron are getting up to.  Hell, more often than not, the Dotytron is a much better parent than I could ever hope to be.  

We play to our strengths.  Home renovations and dealing with contractors?  That's all me, kids.  Packing up the car?  Over here (I wouldn't have it any other way).  Imaginative, unstructured play?  Mostly the Dotytron.  Bedtime routine?  All Dotytron all the time (I come in for stories, but duck out when it's the moment of truth time).  Bath?  Mostly the Dotytron.  It's a good system.

 Tonight for dinner we had leftover borscht and proscuitto, pear, and brie panini

Last night's dinner: freezer borscht w/ dilled sour cream & calabrese & provolone panini

Tuesday night's dinner - so freakin' good.  Open-faced turkey sandwich on white bread with gravy and leftover Friendsgiving beets and brussels sprouts.  I loves me an open-faced turkey sandwich so hard.  It's a holdover from when my family used to do road trips and we'd stop at Howard Johnson's and I'd get a hot turkey sandwich and a brownie sundae.  So boss.  Nailed the gravy, too - it had a nice overtone from the white wine I used to deglaze the pan.

Mad soups and sandwiches around here lately.  Last week's curried acorn squash soup with the Dotytron's signature tuna melts.

Fin.

Lucky button

What a weekend!  It was exhausting but filled with good food, friends, fun, so ultimately, I can't complain, right?

Friday night's dinner: wieners & slow cooker baked beans!

Friday night's dessert: pumpkin pudding with sour cream topping - like a pumpkin pie without the crust.  This was a bit of a let-down.  I now know that part of the intrinsic pleasure of a pumpkin pie for Karl Lagerfeld, Esq., is the juxtaposition between flaky crust and creamy filling.

We skipped Chinese school to clean the house top to bottom and prep for Friendsgiving.  So I made us a little treat of leftover puff pastry scraps turned into nuttela-filled turnovers.  Delicious.

Friendsgiving version 2012 was a monster success.  11 adults, 2 toddlers all crammed into Lil' Ugmo for a night of 9 bottles of wine and near the end, tumblers filled with ice and rum.  It was epic!  We had 4 dips: carrot, hummous, white bean, and squash, with pita and sliced baguette.  Cheddar sage breadsticks.  Blue cheese-stuffed proscuitto wrapped prunes, baked until gooey and sizzling.  Fox's cheesy potatoes.  A carrot, cabbage slaw with sunflower seeds.  Roasted beets.  Brussels sprouts.  A fresh cranberry sauce and a cooked cranberry sauce.  I was responsible for the turkey (which turned out perfectly, might I say), and gravy and stuffing and a pumpkin cheesecake for dessert.  It was lovely.  I cooked the stuffing in a wide, shallow enamelled cast-iron casserole which meant that all the lovingly hand-torn bread pieces got all craggy and crispy.  Just take a look at that feast!  We shared stories and laughed and caught up and had intense policy discussions on participatory democracy.  It was everything I dream of in a gathering of friends.  I felt very, very lucky.

It was also good because leading up to it, the Dotytron and I hadn't been in the best of spirits.  His long-dormant Record Club (of which our Discerning Coyote friend is a member) was resurrected on Friday night featuring Nas' Illmatic.  So they drank 40s and beer and Hennessey with the end result being that the Dotytron didn't stumble home until 4am, and this is AFTER he missed our stop on the streetcar and had to be awoken like your garden-variety late night public transport drunkard.  Saturday was ROUGH, for the both of us.  I hadn't slept well.  The Dotytron's favorite glass broke.  I accidentally left a pot on with my butter-wine basting mixture while we went for a walk and we came back to a smoke-filled home with a burnt-beyond-recognition pot.  People were late for dinner.  It was tense.  But as we gathered up spent wine glasses at 1am and surveyed the scene, there was nothing in us but gratitude for our lovely circle of Supper Club friends.

Sunday morning's breakfast is a favorite of mine - leftover stuffing pan fried in little cakes topped with poach eggs.

Momma D came over and joined us for breakfast.  Of course, we followed this up with a PIE PARTY at JJ's house.  She made us empanadas (not pictured, sadly) and I made baked brie puff pastry hand pies (also not pictured), and the Discerning Coyote made us a deep-dish Chicago pie which I instantly want to go out and replicate:

And then...and then because meals at JJ & S's are nothing if not gluttonous extravaganzas...we had THREE different pies for dessert.  Chocolate cream (JJ), apple (Discerning Coyote) and sweet potato pecan (me).  Oy!   We were smart enough to split the spoils so now, in addition to a fridge stuffed to the gills with turkey stock, and turkey dinner leftovers, I also have leftover pumpkin cheesecake, 1 pumpkin pudding, and remnants from 3 pies.  Lordy.

Tonight's dinner: sunchoke soup w/ leftover breadsticks, pita, and dips.

Pumpkin cheesecake.

So, so, so good.  

As I was driving to JJ's house yesterday with the Big Yam in the back seat, we stopped at a stop light. There were no street cars in sight.

The Big Yam: "Mama?"

Me: "Yes?"

The Big Yam: "Street car.  In my head."  *taps forehead*  "In my head."

!!!!!  LOL!  So funny.  The little guy and his mind movies.

Fin.