Boy Bait

With blueberries, of course.

Huh?  That's not how you bait boys?


Well then maybe you need to have a piece of blueberry boy bait. 

Nearly 2 cups of blueberries suspended in perhaps the most pillowy, buttery coffee cake topped with a sugary mess of sliced almonds, sugar and cinnamon.  Sigh.  It had me at pillowy.  And then buttery.  And sugary mess.

Whew.  Excuse me.

Ahem.  But maybe I'm biased.  I luv a good blueberry muffin.  So much so that I attempted the Cook's Illustrated  Best Blueberry Muffin 3 times before I declared it my failure of 2010.  I luved the blueberry jam (homemade blueberry jam) swirled into the dough and the crispy crumb topping.  But, the muffin itself was mehhh...forgettable.  Definitely not baitable.  I think a good muffin should make you feel warm and cozy and need nothing more but a big cup of coffee to complete your morning.  This so-called-best-blueberry-muffin couldn't have been further from such muffin nirvana.  The taste just fell flat.  Not sweet.  Not berry.  Not cinnamon.  I can't even explain my disappoint...all 3 times.  Almost turned in my apron. 

Many blueberries suffered.  As did my ego.  Or what was left of it at that point.

But one day, while randomly recipe searching...oh, alright, none of my recipe searching is random...I came upon this one for blueberry boy bait.  As if the name was not intriguing enough, one of my friend's made this boy bait for her coworkers.  Mostly boy coworkers.  And it was happily eaten. 

Hmmm...

And so the cake was baked. 

Oh and yes, I should clarify that this blueberry boy bait is a fun and flirty way of saying blueberry coffee cake.  And if there's anything I like more than a good muffin, it's a good coffee cake...something about that crumb topping. 

And the name?  Well, as the story goes, a 15 year old girl won 2nd place (2nd???) in a 1954 Pillsbury Bakeoff, and was named for the attention it got from the boys. 

And the recipe?  You can find it here.  I followed it pretty close except that I added a full cup of blueberries and 1/2 tsp. finely grated lemon zest and buttermilk, instead of regular milk, to the cake.  And 1/2 cup sliced almonds to the topping.  Oh, and the 2 sticks of butter?  You noticed that, too.  I know, I know...2 sticks!  And yes, you can taste it. 

Cold Hands, Cold Heart?

Hmm...this would explain a few things.

And all this time I just thought I had bad circulation.

But according to Ellen K on 102.7 this morning, it could be much worse.  Or better.  Depending on who you ask.

And no, I don't listen to Ryan Seacrest every morning or most mornings or even some mornings.  Because if I have to hear that Kesha...Keisha...whatever song one more time I'll go bananas.  It's more like a consequence of radio channel surfing, and I hear either Ryan or Ellen says something absolutely ridiculous.  And my interest is piqued.

So was the case today at around 7:45 a.m., I heard Ellen talking about 5 physiological secrets every dude should know about chicks.

5 things.  Girls can be summed up in 5 things?  Not even 10?  Maybe 7?

If only this was so.  Is it so?  Let's see.

1. Don't Get Women Drunk

Men and women get different kinds of buzzes: Men lose inhibitions, while women become sedated. If you're looking to get her into the party spirit, don't feed her more alcohol. Instead, play great party music. Research shows that mid- to fast-tempo music will make her more social.

This was just depressing.  Does this mean an end to free drinks as we know it?

2. Women Start Fights When They Feel Ignored
They are trying to force emotion out of you. Don't retreat into your cave; just give them what they want: some attention. And never say "calm down," it's a guarantee that they absolutely won't.

 This was just upsetting.  We're people!  Not puppies!  Girls feel ignored when you don't buy them drinks. 

3. Women Can Be Manipulated With Scent. 
Her sense of smell is sharpest first thing in the morning, which makes it the best time to impress her with  warmed banana-nut bread, which has an aroma that, according to one study, increases bloodflow down South.

This was just disgusting.  How could they say such things about banana bread?  Warmed, no less.  I think of many things when I bake banana bread and that is not one of them.  Again, we're not puppies...or bloodhounds for that matter. 

4. Cold Hands = Cold Heart

Women have colder hands than men - almost three degrees colder, possibly more if she's stressed. Women's bodies, even more than men's, are programmed to keep their cores warmer than their extremities. So if her hands are chilly, she's not so sure about you.

My personal fav.  If you believe this, then there is definite reason for uncertainty.

5. Breathing Is Key

Want to know if it's a good or bad time to broach a tricky conversation? You can tell if she's relaxed by her breathing. If her stomach pulls in with each inhalation, she's taking shallow breaths from her chest, which indicates stress. Keep your distance.  If her abdomen and chest expand with each inhalation, she's taking deeper, more rhythmic breaths - a sign of relaxation. Good time to talk about anything - you will most likely get your way.

You know when deep, rhythmic breaths occur?  During sleep.  Good time to talk about anything.

So yeah, take it from Ryan.  Don't buy girls drinks, bake loads of banana nut bread if you know what's good for you and wait until she's fast asleep to have conversations. 

And this is why I never...hardly ever listen to Ryan Seacrest.  Ok, Ryan's roses...sometimes...but that's different.  Kinda. 

Things That Confuse

As if school doesn't do enough of this to me.

NOA.  NOPAT.  LIFO.  FIFO.  FASB.  IFRS.  NOI.  FCFF.  GAAP.  NOPBT.  DR.  CR.

I like my alphabets best in alphabet soup thankyouverymuch.

If you haven't guessed, it's soon-to-be finals week.  And yes, I should be pouring through this silly little thing called a 10K for an even sillier little thing called a final.  But instead, I find myself pondering mysteries in life other than why Newell Rubbermind uses both LIFO and FIFO inventory methods.  Can you even do that?  I'm somewhere in this 75-page partial 10K, there is a very nice footnote disclosure with a the very nice answer of sometimes maybe...under certain circumstances...and even then were not entirely sure but we did it anyway, and we paid big bucks to disclose it...so there.

Hmph.  And that's just how the cookie crumbles sometimes.

I exaggerate.  It's really not that terrible or confusing.

But you know what is?

Strawberries. 

How can something that looks so wonderfully ripe and delectable taste so umm...tasteless?  The recent crop of strawberries making their appearance in southern California markets have been totally disappointing.  Sure, they look great.  Red and juicy.  And they even smell pretty enticing.  But they are watery and tasteless.  Very un-berry like.  What a tease. 

Office Coffee.

How is it that office coffee always taste so darn awful?  My office brews Starbucks coffee...or at least coffee that comes in Starbucks packages.  But it is seriously, the worse coffee I've ever had.  Incredibly bitter and strong like jet fuel, it's almost undrinkable.  I manage to sit through a few gulps on a Monday morning, but it's not pretty.  The coffee, too...not pretty.

Something called negro.

Not sure what exactly this was except that it was what my friend Steve ate for lunch.  Or didn't eat.  I believe its a pork sausage with an egg in the middle...with turkey on the bottom.  Perhaps the most confusing of all things today.

Ugh

Let's say that it was about 10:30 PM, and you're busy blow drying your hair.  And, usually while blow drying your hair, you tend to think about things you need to do.  Likeee...wake up early (it could happen) to work on your presentation for school...or what time the Laker game starts on Saturday...or how you wish you just bought the unspeakably high priced sweetened condensed milk today ($4.39!!) because now you have to make an extra trip to the market...or...what would be the best use of the 2 lbs of strawberries you just bought.

And just as you decide between making a strawberry sauce for your orange yogurt cake or a ricotta strawberry tart, you absent-mindedly switch the blow dryer to your other hand, which causes you to hit the blow dryer on the counter, which then knocks off the nozzle, which then bounces once...bounces twice...and ploop!  lands in your toilet.

Ugh.

And of course by you, I mean me.

I'm not surprised, really.  Just pretty disgused.  I'm clumsy.  The nozzle was loose because I insist on flinging my blow dryer under the cabinet after every use as opposed to setting it down like a normal person would.  The nozzle comes off with almost every fling.

But the toilet??  Seriously?

Ughhhh.

Perhaps the only thing more disturbing than seeing your blow dryer nozzle in the toilet (the toilet!!) is this thing called the Shake Weight.  Unlike the name implies, there is no milkshake involved.  Disappointing, to say the least.



I haven't decided what's worse...the actual dudes...or the sounds.  Or this 5 lb dumbell equipped with a slinky. 

Or this.

Which, by the way is my blow dryer nozzle soaking in a bath of bubbles.  I used a pair of hangers to get it out of the toilet.  I guess it's good to know I'm getting a return on my weekly toilet cleaning sessions.

Now...back to pondering what to do with those strawberries...

The Circle Scarf

Wait...the what?

I know, I said the same thing.

And even when I saw it, I was still confused.  If by "circle scarf", they meant cotton donut, then I guess I get it.  But why would you want to wear a donut?  Aren't they just for eating?

A friend of mine recently received a cotton donut...circle scarf...if you want to be technical for her birthday the other week.  And the only explanation I can think of is, well, it's American Apparel...and I'm just not cool enough to comprehend such trendiness. 

And this is the circle scarf.  Oh don't worry, boys.  It's unisex.  Just in case you were wondering.

It's like a.....necklace.  I have my opinions about boys and scarves.  But that's for another blog and another time. 

Pause.

Is that a cardigan??  I guess. I mean, what else would you wear with a salmon colored polo?

But before you make the same mistake I did, and dismiss this as simply a scarf, I must confess this is no simple scarf.  It's so much more.  So. Much. More.

How much more?  Well, there's an online guide on "ways to wear it".  Instructions on how to wear my clothes?  How complicated can a cotton donut be?

Famous last words.

With a few tugs and knots and the occasional belt or two, you can achieve 13 looks from the circle scarf, which is essentially an over-sized jersey pillowcase...with the bottom opened. 
 
Still not clear on how to style yourself in a scarf?  Don't worry.  There's a video!

I'm just really not into it.  And I don't think the birthday girl is either.  But that doesn't seem to be the general opinion.  I hope these people can tie Eagle Scout level knots.  I definitely can't.

Better Bread

Today was perhaps the most lovely and picturesque day of 2010!  I knew this day had potential when I woke up, and it passed my foot test.  You know, when you barely stick your foot out of the blankets to see if it's too cold to be out of bed. 

Huh?  You don't do that?

Well today was just one of those days when it wasn't too hot (which it soon may be) and not too cold (like it was all through January), but in fact it was just right.  Foot test approved.

So I of course wanted to take advantage of this warm weather, which in turn warmed my kitchen, which in turn made it the perfect temperature for bread rising.  Seriously, just perfect!  Sometimes in winter, it gets too cold for my bread to rise in any reasonable amount of time...so I resort to artificial heat.  Bad idea.  Very. Bad. Idea.  Never use your oven to help speed along your rising time.  It's the most definite way to kill your yeast.  And you're talking to a serial yeast killer.  Just know that if you bake bread during the winter (yes, even California winter), you're going to have to be patient and increase the rising time. 

And during the summer, it's just too hot to play with yeast and a hot oven.  And honestly, who wants bread during bikini season?  Ok, I do.  Which is precisely why I don't bake bread in the summer. 

But today was not summer or winter and was just ripe for bread baking.  What I luv about bread baking is the smell.  The smell of the yeast waking up in the warm milk, and of course, the smell of the bread baking wafting through my apartment.  I just open the oven and inhale sometimes...all the time.  But I try not to.  Bread doesn't like to be disturbed. 

Even when you take it out of the oven, you're supposed to let it cool completely. 

Who are they kidding?  How is this possible when bread is best enjoyed warm and when the bready smell is at its pick? 

I would also say that bread is best accompanied with jam. 

And then you can spoon some of the warm jam on your warm bread, like so.

Luckily, this white bread was pretty easy to make, so I didn't feel bad eating it faster than I could measure out the 4 cups of flour.

And it's not even breakfast!  There's a cinnamon roll recipe I've been checking out...hopefully the weather cooperates.

Brisket, Buns and a Chicken Pot Pie Challenge

But first the brisket.

I don't know if you know, but I have a small obsession with all things BBQ.  And how it pains me that I don't have a grill that I can hack into a smoker.  I feel that good BBQ places here (in California) are few and far between, so when I hear about new ones, they're pretty high on my must-eat list.  Like this place, but the original Venice Beach location.  Or this place.  But really, if I could pick any BBQ place to try, it would be here.  On a Sunday.  When they serve the beef ribs.  Droooooool!  Who needs baby back when you can have giant Fred Flintstone beef ribs?

But until I set up my smoker or make my way to Austin, I let my slow cooker take care of the brisket.  Which isn't a bad thing.  In fact, it's a pretty good thing...well I haven't really met a meat out of the slow cooker that I didn't like.  Pot roasts, shoyu chicken, stew, Portugese bean soup, chicken stock, turkey stock...it's all amazing! And no fork required!  Just plop everything into the slow cooker the night before and turn it on low for 10 hours and in the morning...

You'll have this!  Well...almost.  After you cool and slice the meat, of course.  I know...what's up with the salad?  Half the fun of BBQ is the amazing sides!  The corn bread!  The baked beans!  The mac and cheese!  The  green salad!  No, not the green salad.  Sighhh.

Oh what's that?  That lovely sesame bun caught your eye too, huh?  Quite the looker, I know.  I was quite taken with it as well.  So steamy and soft straight from the oven.  I may never go back to bagged again!

I mean...could you?  These buns were ridicuously easy to make...even for me!  A known yeast killer!  Most of the time was spent waiting for them to rise and rise again, but completely worth it!

The chicken pot pie challenge. 

So this all started off so innocently.  My mom called asking what to do with her pre-cooked turkey breast she bought from Costco.  I asked her why she bought something she had no idea what to do with, and I guess the fact of it being just $6 (what a deal, apparently) is enough to make you buy first and ask questions later.  I suggested a chicken salad, but with turkey.  Nope.  How bout a pasta dish with some broccoli, lemon and olive oil.  Big nope.  I think I'll make a pot pie she says.  Pot pie?  Really? Blah.  Whatever mom.  It's your $6 turkey breast.

Who like pot pies?  Lots of people, as I found out.  I never really understood the intrigue of a pot pie, which to my understanding is a thick soup with crust on top.  I like crust.  And I like soup.  But together?  Meh...seems excessive.  But, as it seems, many people are see it as heavenly perfection under a crust.  Made famous by a certain Marie Callendar.

I will not be outdone by Marie.  Especially when you hear someone describe her pot pies as having "carrots and peas in a creamy sauce that makes everything delicious."  People go crazy for her pies.  I don't know why.  Especially that strawberry pie.  Don't you wonder what the heck that corn syrupy sweet stuff is?  Definitely not strawberries.

Hmph.  Not amused.

Seeing as how I have never eaten a pot pie, it would be of course, premature for me to swear them off as "everything delicious."  So I tried one.  Marie's no less.

Ok. So it is creamy.  But I mean, anyoneeee within arm's reach of a bottle of cream can do that.  Psshhh.  Actually, I found the pie itself to be rather skimpy.  Mostly creamy sauce.  Very little in the way of chunkies like peas, carrots and chicken.  Come on, Marie, it is chicken pot pie.  However, Marie's was the only pie that I've seen with a double crust.  An actual pie.  I guess that's mildly impressive.  You know, if you're into that sort of thing.  But it was good.  As it pains me to admit.  Everything delicious? Questionable. 

If you haven't figured it out yet, a chicken pot pie throwdown of sorts is about to commence.  And maybe a blind taste test.

Oh who I am kidding?  Of course there will be a blind taste test!