Heeeeere’s Erin…..

Yes, we’re terrible bloggers. Considering the extraordinary amount of money we’ve spent in the last two months on a new apartment and a new car and saving for a vacation, we’ll be home more, hopefully blogging more. Until we go to Spain next month. Then I make no promises. We’ll be eating and drinking our way around the country and we may not come back.

It’s been an action-packed summer. Hell, it’s been an action-packed YEAR. But things are calming down. We’re settling into our new home. Our new car. Our new KITCHEN.

Yes folks, we moved. We moved to an apartment 2 blocks from our old one and it is a HUGE improvement. I won’t bore you with the delightful amenities such as ample street parking, free and private laundry, free internet and cable, storage galore, back yard with a hot tub, or the glorious sun room and new bathroom. These are all lovely things. However, they pale in comparison to the kitchen.

Oh, the kitchen. The retro, 50’s inspired, eat-in kitchen with the black and white tiles, dishwasher, built in shelving, the coffee bar, the actual bar, the huge floor plan (we plan on making an island) the STORAGE, the windows, and the coup de grace…the vintage, enameled cast iron, gas powered, six burner Roper range, circa 1948. WHA!? Yes, you should be jealous.

Every time I walk into the kitchen, I get the urge to put on my cute apron and bake a pie or cook something delicious in my cast iron pans. Which is pretty much all I want to use right now. There’s a symbiotic thing going on between the stove and our cast iron pans. Food is cooking at a better speed and more evenly. It tastes better. It’s more FUN. You know, I haven't named her yet. I need to do that. Suggestions are welcome.

We spend entire evenings in the kitchen, cooking, organizing, singing along to whatever is on the iPod, or just sitting at the kitchen table, drinking wine, making plans for the room...it’s been really, really nice.

We ran into a slight hiccup last week, when I discovered the oven wasn’t pre-heating. The pilot light was lit, but the heating element didn’t seem to be getting any gas. Doesn’t seem like that big of an issue, right? Call the landlord, and wait it out. But here’s the issue. I am a STRESS baker. When I get overwhelmed or start to feel disconnected or just need to hit the reset button, I bake. It soothes me. It gets me focused and ready to deal with whatever is coming next. So the thought of having NO OVEN about put me into a full on panic attack. So for the last week, we’ve been researching, trying to figure out what the heck was going on. We told our landlord, she promised to call someone, but then she hurt her ankle and has been out of commission and we didn’t want to bug her too much about it…but more and more time passed, and I was getting edgier and crankier. I needed to bake something. Quickly, before I made myself and Dave totally insane. Dave, being as awesome as he is (or acting upon self-preservation because I was LOSING IT) managed to communicate to our landlord that the oven needed repair and PRONTO before I went all “Heeeeeeeere’s Johnny” on him. It was repaired within 24 hours. When I got the message, I went straight home and got out Glory, my KitchenAid stand mixer, before I had my backpack off my back. I crossed my fingers and turned the oven on.

It worked. QUICKLY. I am not ashamed to admit that a few tears came to my eyes. I suddenly knew everything was going to be fine.


And then I spent the next 90 minutes quietly humming to the iPod, wearing my favorite apron and making the most amazing, delicate, delicious blueberry lemon buckle. The fruity, tart and tender cake with the crunchy, buttery, streusel topping was such an appropriate dish with which to christen my new oven that it seemed to cook itself. I filled the buckle with the sweetest blueberries ever from Klug Farms via Green City Market and used this recipe that one of my favorite food bloggers posted on her site last week. Check her out: http://www.thewednesdaychef.com/the_wednesday_chef/. I love her. She writes about food in a way that really speaks to me.

The buckle turned out beautifully. I pulled it out of the oven and everything went quiet. I’ve been like a completely different person since that moment. We’ve eaten the entire thing. I am going to try and make one with sour cherries, also from Klug, this weekend.



I’ll let you know how it turns out.

:)

Worst Bloggers Ever

Yeah, I know, I know, we suck. We've had so many great food experiences since our last post and have DISCUSSED so many postings that should have happened in the meantime that our lack of action can only be described as criminally negligent.

Ok, maybe not criminal. But disappointing, at least. I'm picturing each and every one of your faces frowning at us right now. It hurts, people. But we deserve it.

While we sheepishly accept your judgement and commence our self-flagellation, please enjoy this snippet from Michael Ruhlman's excellent blog (as recommended by Rick Bayless via Twitter) that perfectly addresses the term "foodie" in a manner that had me nodding like a bobblehead:

I must here make a distinction that surely will be debated. Since we are unlikely ever to get rid of the unfortunate term “foodie,” I would be grateful if we could separate people who like to cook from foodies. I have nothing against foodies, I hope it's clear. But we should recognize that they are a distinct species, and some people are both foodie and cook. Foodies are the first to hit the newest restaurant, or to plan a trip based on restaurant destinations; they’re are the first to order the coolest new ingredient and make sure you know it. Foodies love to talk about food and cooking. Foodies watch food television with their pants around their ankles and buy The French Laundry Cookbook for the pictures. Foodie is a social distinction, not a judgement. Cooks, on the other hand, cook; they like to cook, they enjoy the work and like feeding others and take pride in various successes in the kitchen, whether it’s their first mayonnaise or a Rachael Ray recipe, and they are not daunted by failure. (There is a third species, someone who does not like to cook, but loves to eat. This is called being human.)


To read the rest of the post, go to http://blog.ruhlman.com/. I recommend doing it on a regular basis. It's good stuff.

Now, off to my penance.