Princess Doom and Gloom Ponders Goodness

   Let me begin by saying that I am generally a glass half full kinda girl.  I know this may be shocking since I have stolen the title "Princess Doom and Gloom" for myself but I tend to be a rather optimistic person.  On occasion the it's all good portion of my personality gets mixed up with the everything is really scary, nothing is what it seems, I suck, and I am going to worry about it all portion.  When this happens, all bets are off.  I become a neurotic freakshow who unintentionally reigns sadness, fury, disdain or disgust on those who happen to wander into the line of fire.  Unfortunately, men usually experience the brunt of this hell fire (I blame hormones).  It doesn't really matter how I am linked to them: acquaintance, friend, romantic interest, family member.  If I am in the freakshow zone you had better watch out.  And for this I am sorry. And I have said so on many occasions.
   That being said, about eighty percent of the time I am a content and try to see the good in everyone around me.  Even when people say or do crazy uncaring things, I do my best to understand the situation from their perspective.  I say do my best because I have learned recently through an unfortunate incident that sometimes my best is just not good enough.  Not only that, the incident I speak of made me question my faith in the human race.  It made me question my judgement.  It really shook me to the core.
   I don't really want to go into all of the nasty details.  I have told the story to everyone who will listen and then a few.  Let's just say I was called a few very unsavory names via text by a man I barely know.  Why, you ask?  Because, I had given this man way too many chances to get his act together and follow through on a date - which he was unable to ever do.  Finally, I stopped responding to his texts. For that, I get called a "dumb bitch" and told "FUCK YOU".  Really?
   It's been a week and I am still pondering.  Listen, I know we are all flawed.  Heaven knows I am.  But when did it become an acceptable practice to be so hateful?  So full of hate when you barely know a person?  Are we really all that angry and dissatisfied with our lives?  Even as I type this, I wonder if I have been too naive.  I wonder if I have misjudged the goodness in everyone around me?  Just the fact that I am thinking that makes me sad.
   A friend said to me, "People Suck".  Can that really be true?  I can't believe I am even considering the prospect.  No. No. No.  People do not suck.  People are inherently flawed.  People are fragile.  People deal with their emotional lives in very different ways or maybe not at all.  People make mistakes.  People may be confused.  People may be hurt.  People are also full of compassion.  People are full of love.  People are amazingly unique.
  That totally makes me think of Depeche Mode's "People are People"... "People are people So why should it be You and I should get along so awfully?"  Good question.  Well that's an even bigger question for an even bigger day.  So I'll leave you with a remix.  A remix from the eighties.  How can you go wrong?
   
People are People

Which came first the chicken pie or the All Clad sauteuse?

In the beginning there was the chicken.  Here it is cooking away in my lovely new All Clad Sauteuse pan!

Then came the making of the gravy.  Chicken drippings from the pan, chicken broth, white wine, garlic, lemon, rosemary and thyme reduced to a lovely, tasty gravy!

Use your knife skills and work your way through sweet potatoes and carrots.

Put the vegetables in that beautiful new All Clad pan.

It's almost too pretty to use, right?

All in!!

Mix it up a little bit by adding rosemary and time to the pie crust.

And in the end, this is the prettiest pie baked thus far!

Woman vs. Custard...take three

a little custard pie blues for you!!

The Bananas Foster Pie was an experiment that turned out in the end.  But for a brief time during the process of making this pie, I believed it would become the pie wreck of the year.  My experience with custard pies has been fairly limited.  There have been three thus far (I prefer fruit pies). 
   There was the icebox lemon pie which turned out beautifully.  There was the scary green monster pie.  This pie consisted of a chocolate pie shell, a true green vanilla custard, and chocolate drizzle on the top.  The pie looked really cool and tasted great.  But the custard did not set up properly so it was more like eating pudding.  Or as a friend said, it looked like some of the slimy food from the movie "Better Off Dead".  Green Monster Pie = fail. 
   And now to the Bananas Foster.  This pie began with my pie shell which I blind baked.  I then made a caramel sauce which consisted of brown sugar, butter, rum and cream.  Can't go wrong there.  Then onto the tricky part (at least for me).  I made the custard filling but had a little freak out, as I often do, and took it off the heat to soon.  The result of this was that the custard failed to thicken.  I knew it.  I knew it when I strained it.  But in hopes of a custard miracle,  I poured it on top of the sliced bananas and caramel which I had layered in the bottom of the pre-baked pie shell.  Immediately, the banana slices floated to the top.  Fail, fail, fail. 
   So began the process of reworking the whole pie. I poured the non-custard, which was now mixed with caramel, back into the saucepan.  I sorted out the bananas and set them aside.  I remade the caramel.  No problem.  Then began the daunting process of thickening the custard, again.  I had to remember to be patient. I had to remember not to freak out.  I had to make it work.  And score, after added another egg, more cornstarch and more cream, it did.  Now, the custard was custard.  And even better, it was a caramel custard which I had not originally intended.  I assembled the pie again - bananas, caramel, custard.  No banana slices floated to the top - woo-hoo!  Popped it into the fridge overnight.  Got up early (that is a miracle in itself) and whipped up some vanilla cream in my trusty Kitchen Aid.  And.... miracle of all pie miracles...behold the Bananas Foster Pie.
   It was beautiful.  It was delicious.  I shared it with my trusty pie tasters.  It did not last long.  And I learned a very important custard lesson....Patience is indeed a virtue. 

Poetry Sundays (a college try)

The Land We Know

 

Things are heavy tonight, the air

filled with liquid, beading

before rain, for rain.

I lie on my back just so

I can almost see

the tip of the wide oak

it’s branches spreading out.

There seems to be an end

To the sky. It is almost flat

like the land we know.  Nights

I walk into the back yard

and compare the sky

for constellations: big dipper,

little dipper, north star.  Alone

I imagine my parents

pointing them out when I was

young.  Our yard

was big and it was always easy

to find a space where light

was not so bright

and so near.

by me - somewhere around 1991-1992

The Great Green Holiday in Cupcakes

   Pictured to the left is one of the three Irish Car Bomb cupcakes that my friends Amy and Rebecca made and gave me in celebration of the great green holiday - St Patrick's Day.  These cupcakes are a sweet combination of chocolate, Guinness, Bailey's and Irish whiskey.  And I am guessing a much nicer mixture of tastes than the actual Irish Car Bomb cocktail which I have not tried.
   As it stands, I am not an enormous fan of beer although I do like Guinness a bit.  I do enjoy Bailey's especially in coffee.  And Jameson, well whiskey is not really my tipple of choice.  I imagine that this cocktail could be very dangerous on a holiday know for lots of imbibing, lots of bad green beer, lots of people, lots of people past the limit all gathered in one place.  This is why I choose to avoid St Patty's Day.  This is why I choose to go out for Mexican food with a small group of friends.
    I am, in fact, partially Irish.  My last name translates to something like "man with a club" or "foot soldier".  Although along with the Irish, there is a wee bit of English and German.  But the amount of Irish blood I have in me is not enough to make me want to go out and get blindingly drunk with the masses.  And in this country, for the most part, St Patrick's Day is just used as an excuse to do so.  Once a counter-culture girl, always a counter-culture girl, I guess.
   Back to the cupcakes.  They are awesome.  It's that simple.  This is saying quite a lot considering, as you know, I much prefer pie.  And both Amy and Rebecca have mad skills in the kitchen so it is a pleasure to get treats dropped off from them.  Maybe I can make a Irish Car Bomb pie.  Hmmm, I think it could be done - Chocolate Guinness pie with Bailey's infused whipped cream on top.  I mean, we now have Chocolate Guinness ice cream for goodness sake!   But where to put the whiskey?  Maybe the pie maker needs a drink while baking.  She does get thirsty.

Oh yeah, that's right, it's Pi Day!!

an experiment - sweet, dark cherry pie flavored with orange juice and cointreau

   Just a little post today to say Happy Pi Day to all of the pie and math lovers out in blogland!

   It is, in fact, 3.14 today which, I am told, means something in the math world.  But you know I was lucky enough to get out of math classes in college (thanks to high school advanced placement classes).  And my major was English with a interest in Women's Studies so how much math do you think I remember?

   I vaguely remember... Something to do with Pi and a circle, right?  Currently, I teach pre-kindergarten and work at Williams-Sonoma part time. In pre-kindergarten, we focus on counting to 20 or so and recognizing those numbers.  For good measure, we do a bit of adding and subtracting.  At Williams-Sonoma, they registers do all of the math work for me.  So I am totally out of math practice!

  But one thing I do know is that a pie is generally shaped in a circle.  And a pie is yummy.  And I love making pies.  This is what I know.  This is the circular math that I will celebrate today!  So to all of the Pi or pie lovers out there, enjoy your evening.

   Hopefully you are lucky enough to acquire and eat a delicious piece of pie.  And for your sake, I hope you do not have to do math (unless it's your thing!)

Poetry Sundays

In the Library
by Charles Simic
for Octavio There's a book called "A Dictionary of Angels." No one has opened it in fifty years, I know, because when I did, The covers creaked, the pages Crumbled. There I discovered The angels were once as plentiful As species of flies. The sky at dusk Used to be thick with them. You had to wave both arms Just to keep them away. Now the sun is shining Through the tall windows. The library is a quiet place. Angels and gods huddled In dark unopened books. The great secret lies On some shelf Miss Jones Passes every day on her rounds. She's very tall, so she keeps Her head tipped as if listening. The books are whispering. I hear nothing, but she does.

Princess Doom and Gloom feels sorry for herself.

   I am sure you have all had one of those days.  One of those days where you wake up, roll over look out the window into the gray sky, and think - why get up?  And then you go into work and it's chaos all day.  Or at least this is how it feels.  On top of this you get some crazy ass text message from someone you barely know.  Then maybe you leave work and it's snowing.  You decide to throw in the towel and eat some crap fast food burger and fries for dinner.  By this time, you are so disconnected that the bad food tastes really... well... bad.  And you barely hear the political hip hop you are blaring on the drive home.  All you can think to yourself is "What the fuck am I doing?"
   This week I really wanted to write a blog on happiness.  And I actually started a few pieces about the elusive state.  But after a week of just not feeling it, I can't possible sum up the energy to feel anything but what I am feeling.... like a pathetic, broody, freakshow.  I know, I know, it really is pathetic.  So of course my well thought out plan of action for the evening is to listen to doom and gloom filled music while writing.  If I had ice cream or Girl Scout cookies in my house it would be all over.  I would wake up past mid day tomorrow in a pool of ice cream stickiness and covered with cookie crumbs.
   It's an evening when even the thought of baking a pie leaves me near tears.  Really?  Oh great, now a Radiohead song "Reckoner" is playing.  All of the crooning and whining, I can't handle it tonight.  But see, this is what it is to be closeted goth.  Way too much thinking about the big questions.  Way too much intensity hidden away behind silliness.  Don't get me wrong, I have spent many years as a fairly content person.  And quite possibly, I am suffering from the an extended mid-life crisis.  Or perhaps (as my mother suggested), I am beginning to feel the effects of menopause (This freaks me out completely, let me just say.)  Or, dare I say it, both.
   In the end, it's most certainly a combination of things bringing me down.  It may be time for a change. It may be time to start thinking about rolling out the dough as a profession,  It may be time to get serious about the pie.  Forget all of my other worries, all of my other cares and make EYE ON THE PIE a business reality.  This call for a music change.  Bring on the punk rock!  Bring on the pie!!

A Tale of Two Fruits (too clever huh?)

My Killer Blackberry-Pear Oatmeal Crumble Pie

   Here's the story of a lovely lady.... (oh sorry wrong intro).  Here are detailed instructions on the making of the best pie yet (maybe).
  Think about making a pie.  Go to the store. Think about blackberry pie.  Leave the store with blackberries and pears.
  Go to your friend's house to help prepare for an early Mardi Gras party.  Be kitchen slave for several hours.  Go home and shower off the olive oil smell acquired during the frying of yam croquettes.
  Go back to the party.  Eat a whole lot of killer jambalaya.  Drink one too many Hurricanes.  Get home and go to sleep at 3am.
  Wake up, too early.  Think about making pie.  Cheat and use leftover pie dough you have in the freezer.  Pray to the pie goddess that the little disk of frozen dough will be enough for one crust.
   Put on a mix of music created from one of your all time favorite bands - The Smiths.  This is crucial.  Do not forget this.
   Peel and slice pears.  Put blackberries in in a bowl with orange juice, cointreau, brown sugar and flour.  Smash them up a bit.
   Throw together oatmeal, brown sugar, butter and cointreau (just a wee bit).  Use your hands (your clean hands) to mix it all together.
   Toss the pears in some flour and brown sugar.  Roll out the pie dough.  And..... It is enough dough. Do a little happy dance in your kitchen (required).  Put together the pie like this:  pie dough, pears, blackberries on top of pears, and the crumbly oatmeal mess on top.
   Pop it in the oven. Bake it for about an hour until it begins to bubble and smell yummy.
   Taste test it when it cools. Think this is the best pie ever.  Think you rock.  Think how brilliant you are.  Think how wonderfully creative you are.
   Then make sure to tell everyone you know about it.  Maybe even write about it in a blog.  You might even write the blog entry while listening to Marvin Gaye. 
   Make sure to thank all of the people who listen and read your pie ramblings.  Because, of course, you really appreciate it!