Everything looks better through a glass cake dome...

Case in Point: this very non-assuming Morning Cake that I made last week is one of my favorite obsessions, but alas, does not look overly interesting until posing beneath a glass cake dome.

My son enjoys Maurice Sendak's In the Night Kitchen, which is fast becoming one of my favorite books of all time. If I ever get to open my dream bake shop, I do believe I will frame most of the pages for the walls. We both greatly enjoy chanting:

Milk in the batter

Milk in the batter

We bake cake and

Nothing's

the matter!

Which is what led to us making this Morning Cake (actually named Lydia's Winter Fruit Cake) from Marcella Hazan. I love a morning when you can have cake with the coffee, and I love even more when I get to bake this the day I want to eat it. Usually I have to freeze 2/3 or more to pull out when company arrives, and it does very well coming straight out of its frozen slumber and hopping into the toaster. Very rarely do I put butter on anything, I save butter for restaurants with good bread, but this I deem as worthy in my own house. I feel I deserve it, since there are 3 whole pieces of fruit in it...and no fat but a couple T's of olive oil - how I LOVE the Italians...

I took a Wilton Cake Decorating class this last month (my last class was Monday), and should have prepared myself for the hydrogenated shortening horror that I should have assumed would be a major part of such an endeavor, but somehow overlooked it while envisioning myself making flowers and borders.

Of course my food snobbery prevailed, and I made all my

frostings with Spectrum's Organic Shortening. I figured if it was good enough for my tamales last Christmas, it would be doing wonders for this. I was right in the taste department anyway, there was no greasy feeling on the roof of your mouth when you ate this, it just is crazy sweet. This was my best attempt at the rose with my Organic non-hydrogenated palm shortening, and as you can see, I have some work to do.

My most favorite thing about this cake is beneath the surface however, because I tried another of Dorie Greenspan's recipes for White Cake (Actually called Perfect Party Cake, and rightly so, in her Baking book). I usually am not a fan of White Cakes, truth be told, I avoid them at all costs. But this one was worth every one of the 8 T's of butter; it was firm, lemony and cut into perfect slices, and had I used her frosting instead of the Wilton Class Frosting (consisting of a fair amount of that shortening...) I'm sure I would have eaten the whole thing by now.

It too looks better beneath the glass... you can hardly tell that I was so frustrated in piping this frosting that I had to stand up and take a deep breath before continuing.

Today was my first day of guerrilla potty training for my almost 3 already son. I am personally

embarrassed that he freaks out and usually cries anytime I mention trying to get out of diapers. I felt most of the day like I have a new puppy...but after 3 stars on the potty chart hanging on the refrigerator and maybe 25 mini M&M's I think he is starting to get the picture.

Still, today I managed to make this awesome bread, my first success with Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day's approach to loaf pan breads. This was their Oatmeal Bread which also had oat and wheat bran, whole wheat and white flour. It was so nice and soft that I kept poking my fingers into the top every time I walked past it while it was cooling. If you are interested in making bread the easy way (no offense, Nancy Silverton...), this is the best book to show you how. And it has the best immediate satisfaction. I was obsessed with this last December, and I still am getting excited about it.

Finally, since we were sticking close to home due to the guerrilla training, we spent a fair amount of time in the basement, where boy-o has his trains set up, and I have all of the wool, yarn, sewing, paper, beads, giftwrap, mat board and workshop stuff that wouldn' t fit in my kitchen. Note to self: Someday I want my kitchen to just be one big workshop, i,e. Pole Shed (with style, of course).

I ordered Stitch n'Bitch: The Knitter's Handbook from Amazon last week for a class I plan to take at a yarn shop soon (and because I'm rather tired of renting knitting books from the library and then having to remember to return them on time). There was a pattern for a knitting needle case that I made today out of some fabric samples from the upholstery shop my uncle runs in Northern Wisconsin, and some of the fabric I had lying around. I was so happy with how it turned out, now I just need more needles to fill it.

But my inherited aluminums look great for now.

My Journey in Pizza

My journey in pizza officially began when I was 11 years old.

My mother was very very sick with the flu, and I stayed home from school to help take care of her. For some reason, I decided since my Mom couldn't make dinner, I was going to make us a pizza. We were living in the "city" at the time: for about 9 months after we moved from the Northwoods to the Coulee Region of Wisconsin we lived in the actual city of LaCrosse while my parents were looking for a rural place for us to live. My Mom was (and still is) a from scratch cook and baker, and even while living in the city I remember us ordering in a pizza only once.

So it didn't occur to me that if we wanted a pizza, we could order one - that and I was 11 and my Mom was so sick I probably wouldn't have thought to ask her anyway.

I'm a little fuzzy on the details, but I actually, from scratch, made a crust and pizza sauce, added some cheddar cheese and used some kind of sausage (which I didn't cook before putting the pizza in the oven...). It may have been edible if the meat had been cooked through, though I doubt we starved after my Dad got home from work. I remember my Mom was pretty impressed...

When I was a kid, I was certainly not excited about cooking or baking...and am frequently reminded by my parents that I vehemently and verbally made it known that I would rather be mowing the lawn or stacking wood than stuck helping out in the kitchen. (And as my brothers will not let me forget, part of the reason I was banished from such helping out of doors was because once I hit the swimming pool with the riding lawnmower...) But from that first foray into a homemade pizza until today, when I made a couple for our dinner, I have no doubt made several hundred of all different sorts.

I think it was high school, maybe my Junior/Senior year when it started to amaze me that you could make a dough out of flour, yeast, salt and water (and sometimes sugar). As I recall, at that time, my Mom never measured for pizza dough, and I didn't either. My first attempts were usually edible, but probably not great. After that, the college pizzas a roommate and I concocted included pocketing salad bar options from the cafeteria and assembling also not great doughs in the dorm "kitchen". Later, my personal attempts usually with all whole grain flours where I would aim for a almost a cracker like crust. I guess through the years I tended to judge a good pizza first by the dough...

For the few years, I only make pizza on a stone, and now would never dream of going back to assembling and baking on a pizza pan. But as I sit down to think about it, a lot of trial and error has gone into what I now think is the best pizza. Things are best in my mind when I can't think of a pizza anywhere that I would rather eat than one I made myself...not that I'm so bloody terrific, just that I finally have the method down to where the pizza I make is the pizza I actually want to eat. Yes, I have to be content that my home oven only can heat up to 500 degrees and not the 800 + of the professional pizza oven, but in our area of the country, not many local pizza restaurants probably have proper pizza ovens anyway.

Until last year, I was very contented with the 8 hour pizza dough from Cook's Illustrated's The Best Recipe cookbook. Then I watched Alex Guarnascheli by accident one Saturday morning on Food Network making a pizza dough that she then seared on both sides in a cast iron skillet like a flatbread, topped, and finished cooking in a medium oven. I immediately printed off her recipe.

I think it's the easiest and fastest by far (I like to let it sit around for about 3-4 hours though, because I think it tastes better) and I always marvel how nice and silky the dough is to work with. The first time I used it, I made it her way in the cast iron pan (one of my favorite kitchen workhorses), but made a Mexican pizza, with leftover tacos ole meat (my husband's favorite from the back of the Frank's Red Hot bottle, but I think I used part beef and part buffalo) and other assorted Latin ingredients from my fridge.

I didn't feel that it baked thoroughly until I slid it out of the pan and then onto the bare rack in the oven, but it was really good. My next attempt with the dough I decided to just pull it out into shape the way Alton Brown so adeptly demonstrated in one of the shows he did on pizza. Now I was onto something. The photo at the beginning of the post was my favorite so far, which had bacon, thin sliced new potatoes and chives.

Tonight's pizzas were a last minute affair in which I used stored "no knead" dough from (former obsession contender) Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day. It was good, but something was missing. While I only add olive oil to the outside of Alex's dough I wonder if it's just that seductive trace of fat that I need to say it's perfect. That, and her recipe has salt and pepper - pepper being a definitive ingredient.

While I am indebted to Alex for this dough and its transformation of my pizza, I'm sure I'll set out to try others and continue to evolve. I inadvertently got on the King Arthur Flour email list, and they recently sent a 24 hour recipe that I think I'll have to try - but who knows when. I used to be able to say that I planned meals, but not they kind of evolve as I navigate through my days. If sometime in the next few weeks I know I want pizza 24-48 hours out, I'll let you know what I think.

Painful Admitting

I am testing a fully mobile edition of cakewalk, carefully trying to type on my iPod's infinitesimal screen. Normally, I have no troubles, but as my friend Al would say, today I feel like I have little smokies for fingers. It feels like the first real day of summer today, it's still lingering around 70 degrees well past 11:00 pm. And I have a painful thing to admit: I am an American Idol junkie. I know it's not really something to be ashamed of, but I have secretly watched every season except the one where Fantasia won, and I'm going to go out on a limb and say I probably didn't miss much. Just this year, I admitted to my very closest friend that I watch, and I doubt I would have except there was a local contender. When he was knocked out, I certainly wasn't going to cease living, but really was just watching for the judges comments on the remainders.

So having just finished the season finale and feeling a bit confused as to the allure this show has to the nation, I am giving you my top 10 favorite things about watching American Idol this year.

Here we go:

10. Perverse pleasure in watching fading rock stars bumble around in stage in front of an audience mostly composed of 13 year old girls (at least up close to the stage). Like the Miley Cyrus types really admire a 60 year old Rod Stewart singing a nearly 40 year old rendition of "Maggie May". And even the 30, 40 & 50 somethings probably are not too clearly remembering the fine figure he used to cut in all that spandex.

9. Absolute pity for Slash trying so hard to sell albums that he has to coach the cast on real rock 'n roll. Mr. Slash, it is no longer 1986, you could maybe update just a smidge.

8. More pity for poor Ryan Seacrest trying to banter with Mr. Slash. Pulling teeth would have been easier.

7. Simon's drawer of white Hanes t-shirts. Come on, this man is seriously endowed in the financial area, at least bump it up to american apparel or vintage classic ultrasoft. I doubt Target is having a difficult time keeping them in stock due to his endorsement.

6. Lady GaGa, making an absolute fool of herself, dresses as some kind of alien, and I'll throw in Katy Perry in the hideous Elvis knockoff...even if she does have the legs to show off. Know your audience, people.

5. Gwen Stefani's push-ups during "I'm Just a Girl". (For those of you who didn't watch, she actually did proper push-ups on stage in the middle of the song.)

4. Poor Paula Abdul trying to sell albums by performing live.

3. Kiss, Queen, and Lionel Richie all in the same place at the same time.

2. Confirmation of my link of Star Search to American Idol when talentless, and recently enhanced, Bikini Girl performed in (insert faux shock here) a bikini.

1. Steve Martin playing the banjo, and not for comedic effect, his new bluegrass tinged album was released yesterday.

So there you have it, I could have kept it to myself, but what fun would that be? I promise more food shall appear shortly.

Saturday, 8 a.m.

Yesterday morning I woke up and it was rainy. Since I figured taking a walk was out of the question, I decided before I even got out of bed to make English Muffins - something I never made before. And by accident last week, I watched a new 2009 episode of Barefoot Contessa on Food Network and immediately began plotting to make the Date Nut Spice Bread she made. Anytime Ina makes something sweet with only 4T. of butter, you know it's going to get tested at my house. SO...I thought: the Boy-O is still in bed, I am going to bake all morning.

About a month ago, I had 24 whole hours to myself. My Husband took the Boy-O to Chicago, and I had the day to do whatever I felt like. It's funny that the first thing that came to mind was baking something I never baked before, but that's the first thing that did. I did manage to fight the urge, but did do something somewhat related and went to the shops.

I do never really go browsing in shops anymore, so I took the opportunity to go to Williams-Sonoma to buy some egg rings. Technically, they are a little small for English Muffins, but I thought I'd try a recipe first and see what I thought before finding small rings that are slightly larger. (I did find some on the King Arthur Bread website, and they are super cheap too.)

Originally, I thought I would make the recipe in Martha Stewart's baking book, but after recent semi-disappointment with the super healthy wheat bread (that I made using the weights published in her book), I decided to go the fool-proof Alton Brown way. I have yet to make something he published (and either by weights or volumes) that failed to be anything less that fantastic... Crackers, Pancakes, you name it...he has a prominent place on my bookshelf. That, and his version took about a quarter of the time that Martha's takes.

So, long story short, Alton scores again. These were really great, only took 30 minutes to rise and were super simple to mix up. I did have a bit of trouble regulating the temp on my pan (it's a yeasted batter you cook on the stove top - or as Alton recommends, an electric skillet). The photograph above was my final attempt out of the 3 batches that I made in the egg rings. I didn't have exactly the equipment that Alton recommended, so I'm counting that all 12 weren't a complete success as my fault. I am certainly going to get the larger rings, and make this recipe again. They were really moist and eggy, although there were no eggs, and I can imagine they would make a good breakfast sandwich. And considering I never buy commercial bread products at all anymore, I think they will become a standard in my freezer.

After I get my larger rings, I will also break down and try Martha Stewart's more labor intensive version as well. I'm sure I will photograph the results.

Project #2: Date Nut Spice Bread

As enamored (translation: obsessed) as I am with Alton Brown, I also have a penchant for Ina Garten. I really have loved all of the recipes of hers that I have tried, and confess that I have read 5 of her cookbooks front to back as if they were novels. I don' t always grab her recipes though because they tend to be of the reckless abandon ilk when it comes to healthful eating. However, I will alter her recipes to fit the way I cook as opposed to Alton Brown' s recipes which I feel are as exacting as they are for a reason.

When I saw her making this bread on her show a week ago, I knew I was going to have to make this. I really had to stop watching and DVRing Barefoot Contessa because I was eating up all the space on our recorder and because some of the shows I had seen 2 or 3 times already. Still, I can watch episodes again and again and imagine how it would be nice to have the counter space and oven space and endless baking pan collection in her fairytale Hampton's world. (I HAVE to get a kugelhoph mold to make her Baba au Rhum from another episode I've seen at least twice...) Her world of aesthetics is right up my alley. I think I was folding laundry the day I'm glad I watched it again - and of course it renewed my obsession and I promptly reset the DVR to record all the new shows.

Let me tell you, this bread alone is was worth the cost of her new book, The Barefoot Contessa Back to Basics. You can also find the recipe on the Food Network website, if you can't wait to order - or if you happen to doubt my assessment...

This recipe has 10 oz. of chopped dates that are marinated in 1/3 cup of Cointreau. My husband bought me the Cointreau for an early Mother's Day gift, because while I am cheap, I would never dreamed of making this recipe with an inferior liqueur. Cointreau is the only thing in the world that tastes like Cointreau, and I admit to being an unabashed food snob when it comes to certain things.

This bread was smelled so good when it was in the oven that I knew there was no way I was going to be waiting until it cooled completely to cut into it. As we had thick slices after our lunch, Boy-O loved it as much as I did - confirmation in my mind that I know he's going to grow out of his picky-eatingness. I am already sure that I will be purchasing a swanky little petite-loaves pan so I can make these at Christmas time to give away.

The end of my new recipe morning concluded with an enormous mess in my little galley kitchen. Sometimes I do really think I would like a dishwasher, though I wouldn't know where to put it. I'm just really thankful that the former owners of this 1948 home decided to add a small dining room onto the kitchen or I would really have been in trouble.

Inconspicuous Knitting

I never knit before February of this year. I had never really had the urge or felt that I needed to for any reason.

Then I for some reason decided to take a free class at my library (where I take boy every Wednesday for story times). I was totally hooked. I took a class the following week, and without knowing much more than knit and purl, was already knitting in the round with 5 needles. I would be up at 5a.m. baking bread, and marvelling as I waited on the oven that I had actual pattern going on all of those needles. Since that revelation of knowing two basic stitches, I have just completed my 6th project, but all are incognito, so are not posted as photographs here. I have to have a purpose to my knitting after all, and my purpose is gifting. (I'm usually too excited to keep it to myself, however, and share obsessively with the non-recipients...)

I decided to order yarn online for my last project (the one I just finished) and this amazing parcel from Canada was at my doorstep in like 3 days. I couldn't resist taking these photos, it was like Christmas arriving in that box...

I had a vague idea what my yarns were going to look like thanks to the virtual color my computer provided, but I was so much more excited than I thought I would be. I ripped open the box, and immediately cast on 46 stitches for my project.

So far, I've been finding my patterns for free online - and with miraculous results. I only choose things I can figure out, or that YouTube can teach me. It's insane, that YouTube. I actually watched AnneB knit (continental style) at least 30 times on my iPod trying desperately to see how her hands moved so efficiently. http://http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=78_pwiudOl4 I would, before this, hopelessly twist my yarn and constantly have to stop and let it unwind, much the way a yo-yo needs to be unspun. I wished so much that I had had this urge to knit years ago when my Grandmother could have taught me, and I could have watched human hands. But AnneB did prove to be a great help. After my serial watchings, and then lots of repetitive practice, I was able to master it and not twist my yarn anymore.

All the while I grew up in the the Northwoods of Wisconsin, my Gram would knit. Not just knit - that is too casual a word for the amazing art that she produced. She raised sheep (and even angora rabbits), and purely as a hobby she sheared them, washed, dyed and carded the wool, then spun the wool and THEN knit. Pure perfection. I have several things that I cherish that she has made, and many skeins of beautiful wool, expertly spun as fine as any machine. I admit, I felt guilt ordering online from Canada, when not so long ago, my Gram would have be able to produce any whim I could have come up with. Last Christmas, I took up needle felting with the abundance of wool that she has given me. For a short time, I was addicted to making little animals that I gave away as gifts. She has also given me a spinning wheel, and I'm sure soon it will be a natural curiosity that will lead me blindly into figuring that out as well.

obsessively needle felted gifts

My maternal Grandmother and Great Grandmother were both skilled in fiber arts: My Mom has told my that my Great Grandmother (Nana) used to be able to see a crochet pattern in a window in Chicago, where she lived, and she could stand outside with her gear and work it up right there. Nana passed away when I was 8 or so, and I still credit her with my earliest food memory: pea soup. And while my own Mom doesn't knit now, she definitely could if the spirit shook her, she made her first sweater when she was 15. My paternal Grandmother was able to knit as well, although later she developed rheumatoid arthritis and was no longer able. Convinced it was a girl, she knit a petite sweater set in pink to bring home her first child, my Father, in. She also brought it to bring home my Dad's two younger brothers. I came home from the hospital in it too - the first in the appropriate pink, but so did my little son, who oddly enough I thought was a girl...

So now I am without my amazing Gram to teach me hands on, and I somehow am managing to limp on with my computer's support...but every time I pick up my needles (all of which came from her) I can feel connected to part of my past, and part of my Grandmother's past. I'm glad it allows me to feel so much like her, and lets me remember the happy days of my childhood watching her knit in the background.