chocolate, shortbread, and strawberries

Got your attention, eh?

Last night we dinnered with our neighbors -- the same ones in whose kitchen I broke my toe last weekend. (Tried desperately to be low-key about it. Of course, they saw it in the first few minutes, despite the remarkable fading of discoloration.)

Their oldest daughter has multiple food allergies, including nuts and eggs. I didn't realize how key these components were to most desserts -- not only were cakes and cookies out, but most puddings and store-bought ice creams.

So I improvised, as I do best in the kitchen.

First, I made an eggless chocolate mousse. I started with maybe 1/2 cup of heavy cream in a small pot, then melted roughly 12 oz -- maybe more -- of a combination of Hershey's Special Dark chips and Ghirardelli milk chips. Kept it over very low heat, so as to not scorch/kill the chocolate. When this was smooth, I took off heat and let cool to room temp. Then, I whipped the remainder of the heavy cream, and folded into the ganache little by little. It was rich, but verrrry good.

To cut the chocolate, I layered with sliced strawberries from Central Market, which were tasty and sweet. Then, to top it off, I'd crushed Walker's Shortbread cookies (shortbread = no eggs) to sprinkle over the mousse and strawberries.

Success! Everyone loved it, and I avoided Allison's food allergies.

adult add

Today I was in a bookstore for the first time in months. I used to really enjoy hanging out at a Borders with a coffee and browsing, but... haven't done that in a while.

What's changed? Well, I realized that... it's been literally months since I read a novel. Months.

Most of my coworkers would stop and take my pulse at this point. Earlier this month, I realized that it had indeed been a long time since I'd read a novel.

But y'know what? I haven't felt the need. I actually haven't wanted to read any books. Which is a little disturbing, given my previously voracious book appetite.

And I chalked it up to my already overly-stimulated life. Why spend the time reading a book when I could be writing a song? Practicing guitar? Blogging? Doing other stuff that's useful in and of itself?

But then I sheepishly realized -- how much of my time is spent surfing the web??? Voyeuristically reading others' blogs? And how is this more productive than reading a novel?

I fear that my mind has gotten used to soundbites. Between reading blog entries, short articles from Fark, magazine articles... I've begun my slide into lack of focus.

So I got home from Third Place Books starting a new exercise. I searched the shelves for a book I hadn't read (that was tough...) and told myself I'd read for a while. I picked up something easy -- an old Dean Koontz that I'd gotten from a used bookstore. Nothing earth-shattering, but I don't have to think too hard. Anyway, I read six chapters earlier. Goal is to read at least another 6 by the end of the day tomorrow. During the week, the work/music/running schedule tends to get in the way, so we'll have to see about that, but... it's a start in the more focused direction...

my neighbor's kitchen is not a slip-n-slide

An adventure in a neighborhood kitchen.

Innocent enough. Bruce and I went two doors down to hang out with our neighbors yesterday afternoon. The only one home was Steve, who was rapidly, frenetically putting together a marinade for steak he'd be later cooking for his wife and daughters. He doesn't fancy himself much of a cook, and struggled to find ingredients.

Every time I offered to help, his neverending hospitality took over. "No, sit back and relax with your wine! I'll muddle through." I eventually sneaked out (kind of) to grab a few ingredients they didn't have. Shortly thereafter, as Steve struggled with other ingredients, I attempted to round the corner from the living room into the kitchen.

Thing is, they have patches of loose carpet on their kitchen linoleum. Slippery ones. And I didn't take this into account.

Yep. Brooke fall down go boom.

And I still can't remember what I did -- I somehow kicked the corner of the wall, or something -- but the pain in my second right toe steadily increased. Later in the evening, as we wandered to another neighbors' for a party, I was clearly limping, and getting nice wine-colored horizontal stripes on that toe. (But not on any of the others.)

These neighbors drowned me in ice packs... I love our neighbors.

Six hours after the fall, my toe stopped hurting. It still hurts when I move it or touch it, but it no longer hurts on its own. And what did I do to it? It's nicely purple and blue, so there's a good chance it's fractured. (Steve, you didn't see that, did you? Please don't feel indebted to us...) And that foot can barely move from all of the swelling.

But, just like my previous broken toe incident, which I recall being *worse* than this one, I'll take a week off, then start hard core running again with taped toes.

However, I do row tomorrow morning without shoes. This shall be interesting...

row, row, row your boat

I am suddenly involved in crew for the first time in my life. I've had a passing interest for a while, but when the time came for intramurals this quarter, my coworkers decided on the traditional 6am slot, which made me reconsider.

Until... many of the women in my lab admitted they didn't know how to swim. Of course, to be on a boat out in the lake as part of UW Crew, they make you pass a swim test. It was a piece of cake for me, but I doubt it would've been for the others.

So I roped myself into the whole thing. Yesterday, the 5 of us were out on a boat together for the first time. Ever. None of us have significant rowing experience, so it was... interesting. We had trouble going in a straight line at any time... the boat keeled to the left a lot...

And perhaps the most interesting thing -- the coxswain is our boss. All of us work for him. It's interesting how cranky he gets out on the water. Some of the others took it personally; I just laughed it off, figuring he's a competitive soul, and would never hold grudges about this sort of thing in the workplace.

Tomorrow we're out on Portage Bay again, the 5 of us, at 6am. It will be... interesting... to see how much, if any, progress we have made. And it's darn discouraging to see these other undergrad teams -- our competition -- when all of us are over 30. (Handicap, anyone?)

still got my web chops

I was assigned the task of creating a simple marketing web site for a newly regalvanized big band with whom I play. Sadly, the photographer didn't get me in any of the pictures (snif) but that's another issue...

I'm quite proud of myself for having come up with the following in about an hour:

http://cascadiajazz.8k.com/

I use Photoshop in big bursts a few times a year. I always have to remind myself how to use it when I come back from any hiatus. But this wasn't too tough.

Hopefully the band will make enough money soon that I can put it on its *own* domain rather than one of these freebies...

the type i love to hate

Warning: slightly geeky science rant to follow.

When I was in graduate school (in the #1 program in my field, which doesn't mean a thing if you're in a bad situation), I had the worst luck. My advisor and I would make what we thought was a reasonable prediction about the protein I worked on. I'd do a series of experiments, and... well, I always got a negative result. My protein does not do this. Neither does it do that. Nothing in which the publication world has a single iota of interest. I wasted several years going around this cycle, especially those years that my advisor made me feel unworthy as a scientist, and I eventually quit graduate school.

I currently work in a staff research position. I have a master's degree, but it's not necessary for my job. It's a nice, cozy place to be for the time being, while I think of what I want to do next in life. Which, honestly, I haven't a clue about. But as things go, it's fairly dead-end.

Today, a few of my colleagues and I went to a seminar given by one of the guys who runs our lab. Now, while Mark is a great guy, I realized today: he is among the lucky ones, the type I love to hate.

All through the talk, the experiments and results he presented so elegantly fit all of the predictions. They came together as a great story, and made publications in big-name journals. People with two copies of the common gene needed dosage N of coumadin to thin their blood; people with two copies of the rare gene needed dosage 4N of coumadin; and the people with one copy of each? Well, they looked like they needed darn near close to 2N. How elegant a story is that?

And I sat there thinking... Mark, you give a great talk, and you seem to be a great scientist, but... would I be in his position if I had better luck in graduate school? Would I have gotten less frustrated if a mere one of my series of experiments followed a single prediction I'd made? (I never, ever got a single positive result, in three years' work on this particular protein.)

Worse yet... Mark is just a few years older than I am. Sigh.

But do I regret being a grad school dropout? Mostly not... if I'd stayed in grad school, I would've missed the whole amazing SillyCon Valley experience, which was training of its own. Still, I'm jealous...

perfection of sweet peanutty goodness

It took me years to appreciate peanut brittle. Why? My grandparents' friends, the Emmetts, made it homemade all the time. We had it sitting around pretty much constantly. I never thought it was anything special.

I don't remember how long ago I started liking it again. It's pretty easy to make, and it's a crowd-pleaser...

Recently I found Alton Brown's (think Good Eats) special peanut brittle recipe. No ordinary brittle, it has a hint of spice to make it more interesting.

I made a first batch with the intent of taking it in to work, a few weeks back. Yeah, like it made it that far. Last weekend, I attempted a second batch, a double this time, to take in to my peanut-lovin' comrades (especially since Ian is gluten-intolerant and can't eat the cookies people bring) -- but alas, it crystallized funny!!!

Anyway, I kept the ugly batch and am eating it myself -- what a horrible cross to bear.

And here's the recipe, more or less (with a few modifications) so you can make your own spicy peanut brittle...

1. Mix one cup peanuts with 1/4 tsp cinnamon and 1/4 tsp cayenne pepper. Set aside.
2. Heat 1 1/2 c sugar, 3/4 c water, and 1 tbsp corn syrup in a heavy pot -- nonstick is best. Bring to a boil, and cover and let boil 3 minutes to get crystals off the sides of the pot. Remove the lid, and patiently let the syrup turn a pale amber color.
3. Remove the pot from heat. Mix in 1 tsp baking soda; syrup will foam up (Alton doesn't do this, but it lightens the texture a bit for me). Stir in spicy peanuts.
4. Spread out on a cookie sheet ideally lined with a Silpat or similar product. The peanuts will have a tendency to clump in the center; continue folding from the outside in to attempt to evenly distribute. This will also help the candy cool and harden.

And there's your spicy peanut brittle!

i like to google myself in public

Everyone's done it, right? Googled ourselves, to see where we're "out there" on the net. To see if there's another "me" out in the world.

This came up in band rehearsal last Tuesday night. Our director has a reasonably common name with an uncommon spelling, and he was shocked to find there was someone else in the world with his spelling. I am proudly the only Brooke Yool ine the world. Google myself, and I come up with sites about marathon results, music stuff, old chemistry teaching sites, science research... all about me.

Which got me thinking: when I married, I kept my name -- mostly because I'd been Brooke Yool for 27 years, and it felt weird to be called anything else. So I wondered: if I'd changed my name, would I have lost my uniqueness? So I googled Brooke Caruthers yesterday, out of curiosity.

And there is indeed a Brooke Caruthers, who lives on the east coast, is a few years younger than me, and runs lots of local 10Ks.

Ha! I maintain my uniqueness. Glad I didn't change my name.

eyes bigger than my stomach

We've all experienced it before: you see a food item you really, really want, and you end up buying much more than you can actually eat. It's universal.

This happened to Bruce and me yesterday. We stopped by Vancouver (BC) to visit friends and celebrate his 35th birthday. One thing he really wanted to do was stop by Mondo Gelato for one of their larger containers, stroll into the middle of Stanley Park, sit on a bench, and share said container. When we bought the gelato, we had a choice of 1/2 liter or 1 liter insulated containers. The half liter looked awfully small, so... you can see where this is going, we picked the liter, naturally.

(Mind you, this was our first food of the day, at about 1pm. I'd gone for a run that morning, as well, and had not had a thing to eat. No wonder I was crashing all day.)

So we got our trio of straciatella, cream puff, and limone gelati. We found a bench in the middle of the park, sat, and munched happily. After about 10 spoonfuls each, we realized... barely made a dent. That was a lot of gelato. We packed over half of it to take back with us to eat later, indoors, especially since the wind was picking up... not fun to eat ice cream in overcast and wind.

Of course, we realized afterward... 1/2 liter would've been plenty.

But it brought back humorous memories of our time in Como, Italy, four years ago. Wandering around, we found an outdoor market with the most fabulous looking fruit. I decided to buy some dark cherries as my afternoon snack.

But pride got in the way. I have a meager knowledge of Italian, and I was trying so hard not to come across as an American (as it is, I was mistaken for a Spaniard in many places), so I placed my order in Italian. Thing is, I couldn't remember how to say "half" in Italian, so.... I pointed at the bin of cherries and said "uno chilo" when, really, I would've been better off with a half. One kilo is 2.2 pounds, I kept telling myself, but I went ahead with the purchase, because it was cheap, anyway.

I carried cherries around with me for days. I finally finished them, what, 4 days later? But all because they looked really good, and I had my non-ugly-American pride to maintain.

It happens to the best of us, eh...

Um, yeaaaaahhh, Lumbergh for President

It was just a few weeks ago that Bruce and I realized... not only did Gary Cole play wisecracking characters in Office Space and Dodgeball, but... he's been playing VP Russell on The West Wing. As long-time WW devotees, I was shocked we never caught that before.

And now that Russell is one of the Democratic candidates for President on the show, and I've realized who the actor is, we've gone on and on about what would happen with Lumbergh as President.

Umm, yeaaaaah, you're going to have to look at that budget. You're going to have to come in on Saturday.

Yeeeeeaaaaaahhhh, Peter, did you get the TPS report on the defense program?

IMO, Gary Cole's character hasn't a snowball's chance in hell of winning the Presidency. But if so, it would be hilarious if they brought Peter, Michael Bolton, and Samir in for underling roles.

kitchen unaccomplished

Ah, our kitchen.

It's not our favorite room in the house. But, it's livable, and this is a starter home, after all.

Our appliances are the same age as the house -- 21 years. And we knew they were going to go soon. About a month ago, in fact, our oven died.

So we shopped around for a new one -- and also decided to get a new dishwasher (since it's leaking a bit), a new fridge (since you can feel cold air as you walk by), and a new dryer (since it's taking longer and longer to dry things). Besides, places were offering a bulk discount on multiple appliances, so why not take advantage?

Then we realized... our 1984-ish builders' grade appliances are much smaller than the current supersize standards. Not only that, but our cabinetry is custom built around it all.

Aieeeeee!

Bruce has a fabulous talent for redesigning rooms in a very space-efficient fashion (remodeling is a hobby of his) so he drew up a new floor plan, fitting in the new appliances. Now, he's in the process of taking it by all of our construction-savvy neighbors for a sanity check. We've been spending time at Home Depot every single weekend, sometimes buying, sometimes just doing research.

And it all seems to be working out. Hurray!

The appliances are purchased, but not yet delivered. We're also trying to figure out how to move the entire kitchen pantry into other rooms, and hot to live with only a sink, fridge, and microwave for at least a week.

But the plans are in motion. Party at Brooke's this summer to show it off!

when I think about you, I blog myself

Since I'm actually doing real work today, this is an abbreviated entry.

Over time, I've accumulated several blogs (before the term blog was kewl) that are very subject-specific... thought I'd list 'em here for your reading pleasure.

First: Left Lane is a small blog I created while living in SillyCon Valley. It also contains some travel recommendations, which I plan on expanding.

I also wrote up a journal of our month-long trip is Europe from 2001.

Here's a bit about our house-search circa 2003.

More to come later...