We used the recipe for "Seafood Ceviche, Nobu Style" from Nobu the Cookbook. You don't have to use only octopus - you can use it in combination with other fish or shellfish, or not at all. But we had that whole octopus, so that's what we went with.
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We used the recipe for "Seafood Ceviche, Nobu Style" from Nobu the Cookbook. You don't have to use only octopus - you can use it in combination with other fish or shellfish, or not at all. But we had that whole octopus, so that's what we went with.
Posted by Jayne on March 10, 2008 in Ceviche, Octopus, Salad, Seafood | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
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Well, as I mentioned this morning, I didn't take any pictures of the briskets in their briney baths yesterday because there was too much else going on and I don't know about you, but I don't think it's all that exciting to see a picture of brisket soaking in brine. Again and again. Please let me know if I'm wrong.
Today, however, there is a smidgen of ACTION! going on with the little briskets - today I TURNED THEM OVER IN THE BRINE! Yes. I know. It's hard to hold on to your hat when you read something like that.
So without further ado, here are the step by step photos of the process. (Sort of. I had to put the camera down during the actual turning-over part. So it's more of a before and after photo shoot. But whatever.)
First up: Pan #1
Here's the pan, plastic wrap removed, right after I removed it from the fridge:
And here is how the top of the briskets looked, once I REMOVED THE SQUARE GREEN PLATE!
(You can see bits of pink here and there, but it doesn't seem to me that Insta Cure No. 1 is really doing a whole lot....)
As I was flipping these two briskets over, I noticed that the texture of the beef has definitely changed. It feels...like the cells are swollen with liquid. Like it's retaining water. Bloated. Something like that. It's hard to describe.
Here's a close up look at the end of one brisket:
See how puffy the meat looks? (Doesn't it? Or am I just imagining things?)
Oh, and I added a little bit more water to each pan - maybe a quarter cup - just to make sure the liquid was covering the meat.
I put the green plate back on these two briskets, covered the pan in plastic, and put this one back in the fridge.
Next up: Pan #2
Sans plastic wrap, but with green square plate still in place.
And then, voila! Ze plate! She is gone!
Again, you can see a bit of pink, but not a lot.
I flipped these two briskets over, and added water...
And...put the plate back on top...covered with plastic...and put it back in the fridge.
Yep.
And that's about all there is to say about it.
I think that, unless the briskets start whispering "Zool" when I open the fridge, I'm not going to take pictures again until Friday, which is when I will be cooking them. Not only these, but ALSO I'll be buying (I am insane) one of those we-already-did-all-the-brining-for-you packaged corned beef briskets to cook as well. For comparison purposes. For picture-taking purposes. For something-more-to-write-about purposes.
Fortunately we have people coming over for dinner on Friday - it's not like Bill and I and the kids will be sitting down to 200 pounds of corned beef all by our selves.
And while a part of me is knocking on my skull to see if anyone's home inside, the rest of me is looking forward to comparing one corned beef with another.
Posted by Jayne on March 10, 2008 in The Corned Beef Project | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
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Hi,
Sorry - didn't do a Corned Beef Project Day post yesterday. I never even looked at the corned beef, to be honest. Too busy. The entire day revolved around cooking, however, which is one of my favorite kinds of days, though it leaves time for little else and my feet hurt by the end. But what's a couple of sore feet after a kick-ass day in the kitchen?
The main event yesterday was a lunch with two of my husband's aunts. Bill made coq au vin, and I made mashed potatoes, broccoli rabe, and two lemon sponge pie tarts with a chocolate pastry crust.
Before all that - french toast and bacon for breakfast.
And after all that - for dinner - steamers and baked clams and leftover baby corn for dinner.
I've got food pictures to upload from the camera, and today's the day I have to flip over all the briskets that are soaking in the corned beef brine.
Also need to hit the grocery store to get a few things.
Dinner tonight? Octopus ceviche. Oh yes, there will be pictures of that, too.
Posted by Jayne on March 10, 2008 in Musings | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
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Above is a peek along the edge of the pan, where the beef is exposed - it's too thick to be fully immersed in the brine - at least this piece is.
Below, you can see the difference in color, between the exposed edge and the part under the plate:
See how the part on the left is pink, and the part on the right is grayish? Hopefully that will balance itself out when the meat is flipped over.
Not much else to report otherwise. Pretty exciting stuff, no?
Posted by Jayne on March 08, 2008 in The Corned Beef Project | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
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I used to make this a LOT years ago. I probably started making it when I was a vegetarian - the book it comes from is all vegetarian - and after making it once, apparently I started making it in larger and larger batches, because right next to the list of ingredients/measurements - there are columns with my increased amounts - for double, triple, and quadruple the recipe.
It's really good, and even better, it's incredibly easy.
The recipe comes from an old (okay, 1975 - but the book is falling apart, so it seems older) small press cookbook entitled "Cooking with Conscience," by Alice Benjamin and Harriet Corrigan. It was published by Vineyard Books in CT, and at the time this was published, it cost $2.00. On the cover, it reads "A book for people concerned about world hunger."
There are 52 recipes in this slim volume. The one I'm featuring is number Twenty-Two. To be honest, I don't know if I ever bothered trying anything else besides this wonderful lentil dish.
Anyway, here's what the authors wrote about this dish:
"We couldn't resist having one dish called "A Mess of Pottage." According to some Biblical translations, Esau sold his birthright to his brother Jacob for "a mess of pottage." Other translations say "bread and lentiles" and still others say "bread and lentil soup." In any case, it was lentils and probably cooked with onions, butter, and a few herbs. Who knows? -- this might even be somewhere close to the original. (Except those were red lentils, and brown ones are easier for us to find. And he certainly didn't add powdered milk.) Serve with any whole grain bread to help complete the protein and a plate of raw vegetables such as carrot sticks and celerey. Serves 3 or 4."
I served this for dinner with a salad of mixed greens, sliced fennel, fresh basil, and diced roasted chicken (left from the previous night's dinner), and a warm baguette, some olive oil, and a couple of cheeses. Alex, predictably, didn't like it on sight. Julia tried it, liked it, but didn't eat much. My husband liked it eNORmously. And I took my first spoonful and wondered why it's taken me so long to make this again.
Ready?
Here's all you need:
1 cup lentils
3 large onions, chopped (I sliced mine)
(Oops! Those darned onions - they made my eyes water and I couldn't see clearly. I'll try again...)
(That's better!)
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 stick butter or margarine
1 tsp cumin powder
3 T dried parsley
1/2 tsp paprika
2 tsp salt
3/4 cup powdered milk (I used liquid milk from the fridge. I didn't have any powdered.)
And here's all you need to do:
Put lentils in large pot with a quart of water.
Bring to a boil and turn down to a simmer. Meanwhile, cook onions and garlic in butter until golden
and add them and all other ingredients,
except the milk, to the soup.
Cook until lentils are tender and stir in powdered milk.
Isn't that simple? And lentils cook pretty quickly, so really, in the time it takes for the lentils to finish cooking, you can throw together a salad. And if you start warming some bread when you start cooking the lentils, it'll be nice and crusty (and perfect for dunking) by the time everything is ready. For very little cost or effort, you get a hearty, delicious, healthy meal. Definitely worth trying.
Posted by Jayne on March 08, 2008 in Chowders, Soups and Stews | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBack (0)
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As I mentioned in yesterday's post, I'll be taking a picture or two of the briskets as they soak in their brine and journey (passively) on their way to Corned Beef-hood.
Here's today's quick peek:
You can see that the meat has begun to change, just by looking at the color. It's got a "curing" look to it. The same look raw seafood has when you mix it with citrus juice and let it sit a while.
Posted by Jayne on March 07, 2008 in The Corned Beef Project | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
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As I mentioned earlier today, I'm going to corn my own beef. I got the idea from an article in the March issue of Bon Appetit (which came out a month ago - I thought it arrived a couple of weeks ago - but no, because the April issue just came in the mail today. Shows what I know.).
Anyway - the article not only tells you how to make the brine, but also gives a recipe for Corned Beef and Vegetables, and two sauces - a Horseradish Cream and a Guinness Mustard. I'll be making those, too, but that will be next week some time.
For today - the first step - starting the brine process.
All the ingredients are pretty straightforward, with the exception of "Insta Cure No. 1" - which you can order at sausagemaker.com. I ordered mine Sunday, I think, and it arrived yesterday. You have to buy it in 1 lb packages, and you only need a little at a time, but it's not expensive, and who knows, maybe I'll go on some sort of meat curing frenzy for the next several months and use it right up. Oh - the purpose of Insta Cure No. 1? To prevent botulism, but mainly to give the corned beef its traditional pink hue.
Here's what's needed for the brine (text from the magazine is in bold and my notes are in italics):
6 cups water
2 cups lager beer
1 1/2 cups kosher salt
1 cup (packed) golden brown sugar
1 1/2 tablespoons Insta Cure No. 1 (optional) (below - the Insta Cure is the pink stuff)
1/4 cup pickling spices
1 6-8 lb flat-cut beef brisket, trimmed, with some fat remaining (I am actually using four 2-lb briskets. So we'll see if that ends up being a bad thing.)
To Brine:
Pour 6 cups water
and two cups beer
into large deep roasting pan (I used a big bowl - my large roasting pan won't fit in the fridge unless I remove everything else).
Add coarse salt;
stir until dissolved.
Add sugar;
stir until dissolved.
If desired, stir in Insta Cure No. 1.
Mix in pickling spices.
Pierce brisket all over with tip of small sharp knife. Submerge brisket in liquid,
then top with heavy platter to weigh down.
Cover
and refrigerate 4 days.
~~~~~
And so that's where things are now.
I will give out one piece of advice - even if you think it's a good idea, don't put a few layers of paper towel under the pans of brisket. Somehow, the absorbant properties of the paper towel will entice the brine to creep out from under the plastic wrap. Trust me.
I'll be taking a peek at the brisket tomorrow to see how things are looking. And I'll keep you posted.
Posted by Jayne on March 06, 2008 in The Corned Beef Project | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
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Well, it's March, and of course, to many people, that means St. Patrick's Day and green beer and Corned Beef and Cabbage.
Those aren't the first things that come to my mind, and I have no use at all for green beer because - why? Really? And being Not Irish (blame the adamantly Scottish portion of my family for that), we didn't pay St. Patrick's Day a whole lot of attention anyway. And we didn't make it a point of eating corned beef and cabbage on March 17th, either, not that it's really all that traditional in Ireland either, as I understand it.
However. I got married a while back, and my late mother-in-law did the corned beef and cabbage thing every year, and it was something Bill looked forward to. When I didn't bother making it in the first year or two of our relationship, he didn't say much, but then I think maybe HE went ahead and made it one year - because he missed having it. So we make it now. And we make sure to have plenty of leftover corned beef, because to me, really, the best part of all that boiled food is making really kick-ass corned beef hash with the leftovers. And yes, I'm tooting my own horn here, but I am actually impressed with my bad corned-beef-hash-making self.
AND. I got my March copy of Bon Appetit magazine a couple of weeks ago, and one of their features this month is how to make your own corned beef. And THAT - the make it yourself part - was what got me. And so one of the food things I'll be doing and writing about this month - beginning later today, actually - is the making of my own corned beef. Should be fun.
Also - it's Easter this month. And while my kids think of bunnies and chocolate, my thoughts turn to lamb. Not cute ones. Not religious metaphoric ones. But legs of lamb. Roasted, with garlic and rosemary. So at some point this month, I'll be cooking up some absolutely delicious lamb. Not necessarily to eat on Easter, because we will be going to my cousin's house for that and it's a whole different thing. But at some point. Because - yum.
And some spring vegetables will be showing up here...asparagus, broccoli rabe...those are the first two that come to mind.
And on the dessert front? Lemony things. And probably something chocolate. Because - well - chocolate. No excuse or reason needed there.
So that's part of the plan for the month of March in 2008. Grab a fork and stay tuned.
Posted by Jayne on March 06, 2008 in Musings | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
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So my eyes are kind of stinging.
Wanna know why?
Here's why.
It's raining this morning. Not just raining - occasionally it is pouring, and also occasionally there is a monsoon. And a bit of lightning.
So anyway, earlier, when Bill had to leave for work, the monsoon phase of this morning's precipitation was well under way.
And since I was too lazy to put out the big trash bin and the almost-as-big green recycle bin last night, I had to do it this morning. Green is for paper products, in case you were wondering. These big bins are kind of rectangular, they hold like a trillion gallons of stuff, and there are two wheels on the bottom so you can tilt them back a bit and roll them down to the street easily. The lids are hinged at the back of the top, where the handle is that you push them with. Got that? The visual? Good.
So I go outside when Bill is going out, and first thing I notice, besides all the trees bending over sideways and a few houses spinning up into the sky toward Oz, is the gushing water spraying sideways from the low corner of the roof, right there on the same side as the driveway.
Oh yeah, that's right, the downspout fell off. So the water that is rapidly accumulating in the gutter no longer has a nice straight path to take in order to get back to earth. No, it just pours out of a hole up there, and with all this hurricane-force wind this morning, naturally it can't go straight - it sprays out sideways like an EXTRA rainstorm right across the driveway.
I stood there with the green recycle bin, waiting for my husband (who chooses just the BEST moments to become slower than snails) is arranging himself in the car and adjusting everything - the seat, mirrors, radio, CD/radio selection, and checking his nails for dirt. Then he is looking at me like he needs to tell me something - maybe something like - "Gee, Jayne, you sure look completely drenched, standing out there in the rain waiting for me to finally back out of the driveway already!" So I move closer to the car, thinking he will UNLOCK the door so I can hear his piece of important information, but no, he doesn't do that - he merely points to the few big rain splatters on his otherwise perfectly dry coat and gives me a look like "Wow, it's pretty rainy out here, huh?"
I nod and roll my eyes and wave him along.
At last hs is backing away, and I start to follow, pushing the tilted-back green recycle bin and bracing myself for the sideways water spraying from the near corner of the roof. And just as I am going through that bit of pleasantness, a giant gust of wind blows across the front of the house, several of the neighbors' cars flip over and roll down the street, helpless - and - the lid of the recycle bin snaps up and hits me right in the face. Hard.
That was real fun. I pushed the lid back down and rubbed my head and wondered if Bill might stop the car and take a moment to make sure I was okay.
Hahahahahahaha. No, he didn't.
So I continued pushing the recycle bin through the storm to the end of the driveway.
I was drenched. In my LL Bean boots, my pajamas, and my corduroy coat. Drenched.
I got the bin to the curb (if we actually had a curb. We don't. It's more like where the dirt meets the asphalt.) and turned to go and get the gray trash bin. Just as I got back to the sideways water spraying from the gutter, I heard a loud thud and turned to see that the recycle bin - though it was 3/4 full of old magazines, junk mail, newspapers and other paper stuff - had been knocked over by the raging wind and the top layer of paper stuff fell out into - yes - the rushing river that used to be the street. Coupon inserts and layers of newspapers tried to fly away, past our driveway, but the heavy rain was too much for them and they lost momentum and fluttered, defeated, down into the water.
I stood there in the rain and just stared for a minute at the mess before grumpily picking up all the soggy paper and righting the fallen bin.
By now the rain was pouring down my face, in my eyes, blinding me, and I staggered back up the driveway to the house. I went inside and Alex, who apparently had been watching my little show, called out that I forgot to fix two other bins that had fallen over. (Further up the street). I told him it's not my job to stand up everyone's trash bins and to go downstairs and play. I wiped the puddles out of my eyes and went back out to bring the trash bin to the road. I was going to just leave it, but for some reason I thought that would mean the monsoon had defeated me, and I wasn't about to let that happen.
So back out I went, through the monsoon, and the sideways spray from the gutter, into the raging river of our street. Fortunately the trash can didn't fall over. I made my way through the gushing, blowing March rain and into the house, my eyes closed again, leaking rainwater. I took off the soggy coat. I wiped my eyes - which are still stinging from the water and the wind - and got into some dry clothes.
And that's the end of my story.
Posted by Jayne on March 05, 2008 in Musings | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
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Another birthday cake for a coworker, way back when. It was a winter birthday, which is why the snowmen made an appearance. They also represented the above named coworker and the guy who he was kind of partnered with in the office. Long story, doesn't matter anyway.
I think this is one of my favorites. It was fun to create and it's fun to look at (in my humble opinion). The snowmen are actually made of sugar and water - granulated sugar mixed with just enough water to make it feel like wet sand - pressed into a round mold of some kind (I used the lower halves of some plastic easter eggs - 3 different sizes) and allowed to partially dry. Then the inside part, which is still wet, is scooped out, so they aren't as thick and heavy. Then I sort of spackled royal icing onto them to give them a snowy appearance, and stacked the "snow balls" to make the two snowmen.
The scarves, coal eyes, and carrot noses were all made from fondant, and I used broken cinnamon sticks for the arms. The cake is covered with fondant snow, obviously, and I rolled fondant into little snowballs as well. The cake (under the snowmen and inside each fort/barricade) is a white cake (in keeping with the snow theme), and there is a layer of strawberry jam mixed with white canned frosting beneath the fondant. I pressed the rounded edges of a half teaspoon into the fondant on the two barricades to make it look like it had been made of snowballs.
I wrote with royal icing, and then gave it a dusting of confectioners sugar to make it look like new snow was (or had just been) falling.
As I remember, it was kind of a hit.
You can't tell from this picture, but the green scarved snowman is frowning. I believe he got hit, but I don't know if I made any kind of snowball splatter on the front of him. Ah well.
As you can imagine, I loved PlayDoh when I was a kid. Still do.
Posted by Jayne on March 05, 2008 in Gallery of Cakes | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
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No, that tooth hasn't fallen out yet. But we're getting closer. I know I mentioned before that Alex has two adult teeth that have sprouted up behind his two front middle lower baby teeth - so he'd kind of like a little shark. Well, one of the baby teeth is VERY wiggley. He is so impatient for this tooth to fall out. He wanted to chomp on a carrot because he saw Baby Bugs Bunny lose a baby tooth on "Baby Looney Tunes" that way and figured he'd give it a try. Didn't work, though, because it hurt too much to bite down on the carrot with that particular tooth.
I am, naturally, leaning a bit toward the weepy "my baby boy is growing up" end of things...but that's how I am. And I don't think it ends, ever. (See my sister's irate-verging-on-hostile-with-a-touch-of-mania-thrown-in-for-good-measure comment immediately after this post earlier today.) I mean, no, I don't wish my kids were tiny babies again. In diapers. It was an amazing time in my life, and when I look at their baby pictures, sure I get all Kodak-moment weepy...but it's pretty cool right now because they can both walk, eat, and go to the bathroom without my assistance. So there's always that back and forth of emotion, I think. Looking back - how little, how tiny, how amazing, and how quickly it's gone by...and no, I don't want them to grow up too quickly. But they will. And all those first things - those milestones of smiles and baby teeth and baby steps and solid foods and crawling and walking and running - all steps on their own roads to independence; steps on the road that takes them out of my protective embrace and into their own lives. These are great moments, moments of pride and accomplishment. But at the same time I feel like - no, no, not yet....
Okay, got a bit rambly there.
Anyway, so Alex is joyfully on the verge of losing his first tooth. He will holler from another room "Mom! My tooth is SUPER wiggly NOW!" And I will take a peek and check the wiggle status with my own finger, and sure enough, it is even more wiggly than it was this morning. And he will grin that little baby shark grin and sing out "Tooth Fairy!"
So that's where we are with the tooth. I'm including a picture of his doubled up baby teeth for any of you who are curious - just keep going to the end of this post and click on the "continue reading" link thing. I don't want to frighten anyone by posting it right up front here.
In other Alex news...he went "SUPERFAST!" the other day when Bill took the kids for another ski lesson, and enjoyed that immensely. He didn't enjoy falling down or trying to walk sideways up the hill.
He gets frustrated when he can't do things right off the bat. And it's scary to me how upset he gets with himself. He started a new level in swim class last night, and one of the things some of the kids did was to jump off the racing platforms at the deep end of the pool.
I watched Alex from where Bill and I sat on the benches near the shallow end of the pool, and I could see how badly he wanted to jump in. He was so excited at first - I could tell by the way he practically ran in place waiting for his turn.
But then when it was his turn, he climbed up on the platform and looked at the teacher, who was in the water, beckoning him, and...he didn't go. He crouched down a bit, like he was about to jump, and in my mind I was urging him on, go, Alex! You can do it! But of course, that does no good. I held my breath, hoping, hoping...
But he didn't jump.
There had been two other kids before him who didn't jump either, and the teacher gave them the option of jumping from the edge of the pool instead of from the platform. And both of them jumped. She gave Alex the same chance, and he was there - right at the edge, knees bent, head down, looking at the water, bouncing a bit, looking like he was going to do it...
But he didn't jump.
And then the class was over.
And he came back to our end of the pool, his face drawn and brows furrowed. On the verge of hitting something. On the verge of tears.
Getting to some of those firsts is daunting. Gut-wrenching. Stressful. Tearful.
No matter which end of the pool you're at.
Posted by Jayne on March 04, 2008 in Alex | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
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For those of you following along, here's the latest picture (taken this morning) of Julia's face (you can read about the initial event here and the update I did 3 days later here).
She's healed up pretty well - you can see some thin, shallow pink scars that I think will fade out over time, and I am applying Eucerin healing ointment (or whatever it's called) a few times a day as well.
She is none the worse for wear.
In fact, on Sunday, my husband - who has recently become a born-again skiier (yes), took both kids to a local ski area, got them both outfitted in rental equipment, bought Julia a cute pair of goggles (pink), and the kids had an hour lesson while Bill hit the slopes.
Apparently the instructor told Bill he was really impressed with Julia - for one thing, that she didn't lose interest halfway through the lesson (because of her age) and also because she is a very determined little soul and did not give up. If she fell, she got back up and tried again. And again. And again. She was completely wiped out by the end of the lesson, but she had a great time and wants to ski again.
Which is fine with me, as long as she wears a full helmet of some kind to protect her face. I don't think that's asking for much.
Posted by Jayne on March 04, 2008 in Julia | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
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I've had this monstrous project looming over my head. Well, maybe not looming, because it's not a scary evil project. Just a long-overdue one. And it's big. VERY big.
I have not put pictures in photo albums (with the exception of small albums of my kids' photo shoots when we go to the zoo) since, oh, before Bill and I started dating. Which is going on eleven years ago. Actually, since, oh, since my sister's son - her firstborn - was born. So that's fifteen and a half (sorry, Mere) years ago. So you may or may not be able to imagine the tons and tons of photos throughout the house, just sitting in their envelopes, chatting with their negatives, waiting patiently for me to get my act together and put them some place where people (including myself) could actually sit and look at them from time to time.
And now that I've gone digital, which is going on...wow, two years this July...there are also all sorts of images in my laptop and the external hard drive I bought JUST SO I'D HAVE SOMEWHERE TO STORE THE PICTURES BECAUSE MY LAPTOP IS CONSTANTLY FULL that no one looks at but me because I don't print enough of them or upload to flickr on a regular enough basis, because I am disorganized or lazy or something.
Oh, and in addition to the pictures in all their envelopes, there is a good-sized box full of a huge melange of pictures and negatives that were caught in the flood in our basement in August of 2003. Yes. Four and a half years ago. There were pictures down near the floor - a box of them or something - oh, yes, I think I had begun to attempt to try to think about to hope to organize them back THEN. And they got wet along with anything else on or close to the floor. So I spent a bunch of that afternoon/evening laying out all those pictures on the furniture and floor in the living room and our bedroom, and fortunately they really didn't get too badly damaged...but they did get totally mixed together.
So anyway. On Sunday, I started working on this. I sat down on the floor in my bedroom and started just sorting envelopes of prints and negatives into boxes loosely categorized thusly: Before Bill. With Bill But Before Kids. With Kids. Black and White. Bill's Family Way Before My Time. They're broad categories, but it was the easiest way to begin, rather than with years, for example. And so far that's all I've done.
But while I was going through things, I came across a small envelope of some black and white prints my father gave me - copies of prints someone sent him, actually, of him (my dad) when he was a young photographer with a big ol' camera and before he had a wife or daughters.
Here's one:
And here's the other:
Aren't they cool?
Anyway, I just wanted to share them.
I'll probably be posting other pictures, too, as I go through the mess. So be warned!
Posted by Jayne on March 04, 2008 in My Family, Photography | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
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Every Wednesday the Providence Journal publishes their Food Section - a collection of articles about food, recipes, local food-related events, and so forth. I would love to get the paper delivered every day - and have time to read it - but we cancelled our subscription long ago because the papers would pile up and we'd end up either recycling them or using them to start fires (in the fireplace or on the grill - not just random ones). So, we cancelled. And the only thing I miss is the Food Section. Of course, fortunately the paper is online, so I can check out the food stuff there, but it's not the same as turning the actual pages, so sometimes I'll buy the Wednesday paper.
All that long and rambling opening to explain where I got this recipe.
Posted by Jayne on March 03, 2008 in Gnocchi, Sweet Potato | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
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