fancy springtime cupcakes

With all the procrastinating for me to do this time of the year, I have been a mad baking fiend! I made these on a whim last night trying to use up leftover buttermilk:
These are (deep breath) vanilla buttermilk cupcakes with cream-cheese-pomegranate-honey frosting topped with home-candied violets!

I was inspired by these cupcakes, got the recipe for the cupcakes here and came up with the rest on my own. Here's the (modified) recipe (again this is not my own recipe, but I changed a few things, such as omitting almond extract):

Vanilla Buttermilk Cupcakes
1 1/3 cups all purpose flour
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
1 cup sugar
¼ cup butter, room temperature
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup buttermilk

Preheat oven to 350F. Line muffin tin
In a medium bowl, stir together flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt.
In a large bowl, using an electric mixer, beat the butter and sugar together until it looks creamy. Beat in the egg and the vanilla and almond extracts until mixture is smooth.
Add half of the flour mixture to the butter mixture and stir until almost combined. Add buttermilk and stir, again, until almost combined. Add the rest of the flour and stir until all ingredients are mixed in.
Divide batter evenly into muffin cups.
Bake for 20-30 minutes at 350F, until a toothpick inserted into the center of a cupcake comes out clean.
Let cupcakes cool for 10 minutes and then remove from the muffin pan. Cool completely before frosting.

Makes 12 cupcakes, or about 36 mini cupcakes

Frosting:

Mix together 2 parts homemade or store-bought cream cheese frosting and 3 parts jam of your choice (we used a pomegranate-honey jam that a neighbor in California makes).

Violets:

Wash violets and allow to dry thoroughly. Lightly beat one egg white with a little water. Dip each violet in egg white and then roll in granulated sugar, and set on wax paper to dry.

We also made our own aluminum muffin cups, as we didn't realize until after we had bought regular-sized ones that we owned only a mini-muffin tin. We just cut circles out of aluminum foil by drawing around a coffee mug with an X-acto knife. We've decided we're never buying muffin liners again. :)

Well, still just working on one thing at a time, but despite these baking sprees, I am actually getting schoolwork done. Done this weekend, hopefully!

the cloisters and a cake

With only two weeks of classes left, I find myself in good shape academically, and this weekend I allowed myself a little free time with my Mister to celebrate his birthday. Honestly, it was a nice break from the computer for a couple of days (it's amazing how tired, sore, and irritable just sitting in front of a screen several hours every day will make you). Here is a picture of the cake I made him (I apologize for the poor quality):

This was a mocha cake with a chocolate-hazelnut glaze, both recipes from the wonderful Complete Tassajara Cookbook, by Ed Espe Brown and it was to-die-for delicious. This is the best cookbook I have ever beheld--directions are simple, ingredients common, and every single recipe is perfectly balanced and delicious. Ed Brown is an inspiration and a wonderful chef.

Anyway, the cake turned out brilliantly and was completely stress-free (I often avoid making cakes because they tend to call for special flours, lots of sifting and whipping and then turn out only plain-tasting), and so I highly recommend the recipe, and will surely be making it again, on multiple occasions.

After eating half the cake for dinner, we got up to eat the second half for breakfast, then made a pasta salad to take with us as a picnic lunch to the Cloisters, the beautiful medieval art extension of the Met in Washington Heights. Both the collections (inside an old cloisters on a hill) and the vast gardens that surround them are beautiful, especially this time of year, and we were lucky enough to have the lovely weather to enjoy them:










So much beauty all in one day! The Mister and I noted how like the "complacent smiles" of the Classical Chinese and old Buddhist works were the smiles on the faces of the Virgin in many of the Medieval works. And how wonderfully Utopian these old interpretations of Christian allegory were. And the colours on the angels' wings--crimson, and lapis, so beautiful!

Back to the books now, unfortunately, but if all goes according to plan, I should be finished with all my work and have it turned in by next Tuesday! And then, the following one, back to California. More before then though--I have more pictures that I've saved for a rainy day. :)

happy easter!

Happy Easter, all! I awoke too early on the impetus of a faulty alarm, but the sunshine and the sound of birdsong floating in through my window compelled me to leave my bed, throw on some clothes and my rainboots, and take my camera out before the rest of the campus woke up. This warm, wet, bright weather makes me miss the West coast, though...







(a little fort someone built in slonim woods)


These last two pictures are of some cockle shells I've been meaning to photograph for a while, left over from a meal we made in Brooklyn. We had made pasta with fresh mussels and cockles ("cockles and mussels, alive, alive-o...") and I had never cooked cockles before--they're hard to come by on the West coast. They were so petite and colourful, I couldn't help but save a couple of shells to photograph.

I know my family is at home celebrating with a big breakfast, and I wish I were there with them. I did wake up this morning to a bundle of of big chocolate eggs wrapped in coloured foil, one for each member of the house. I don't know who left them there, but the mystery is a little bit exciting.

The Mister and I made this pasta last night, which was a major success, and will probably prove to be even better as leftovers. It was, indeed, one of the best pomodoro sauce recipes I've ever tasted.

Well, today begins the 24-hour schedule at the library, which officially denotes the beginning of the dreaded conference weeks here at SLC... I will do my best to keep this blog updated through that time, but I'm afraid I have little faith in my abilities to be diligent while I am writing conference papers. Many things will be happening during this time, though, so I will do my best... but, worst comes to worse, I'll be home in three short weeks, and that may suffice. For now, I am off to work and play on this beautiful Easter morning!

the future of poetry / poetry of the future

Yesterday, as part of my college's poetry festival, I went to a panel with the above title. The last month or so has been a huge time of research for me--I've been thinking so much about where the creative universe will be headed after the huge meteor crash of postmodernism, and just how the art world will be recovering from the huge shock of it all. This research (unfortunately scanty for now, because although scads of critics have declared the end of postmodernism, almost no one has taken the time to define what will succeed it) will be culminating in a grand critical essay on my part, to be undertaken before my graduation from Sarah Lawrence. Logically, this panel seemed right up my alley, and I was expecting to leave it optimistic about the state of art, rather than entirely discouraged. But the panel, which consisted of the poets Vanessa Place, Christian Bök, K. Silem Mohammed, and Doug Kearney, was largely more concerned with poetry as yet another "conceptual" field.

Although it wasn't what I expected, and although I came out of the panel more frustrated than enlivened, I was still provided with a better view of my opposition's standpoint, and, to be fair, Doug Kearney and K. Silem Mohammed challenged the views of their peers in a very satisfying way for me. And, through the festival, I've been offered some wonderful opportunities to see incredibly talented poets--both established and students--so I certainly cannot complain simply because some of them do not believe as I do.

Also: new successful recipe, adapted from one I found on the Sunset magazine website:

cream of lettuce soup with spring salsa:

for the soup:

sautée two finely chopped leeks in butter (or olive oil, for vegans) until soft. add roughly two heads of lettuce, (we used one head of butter lettuce, one of romaine, and a good helping of watercress) finely chopped, and 1 quart of vegetable broth, and bring to a boil. once boiled, reduce to a simmer for several minutes until lettuce is soft. add salt, pepper, juice of 1/2 lemon, and a sprinkling of nutmeg, and whir it in the blender until smooth. add 1/2 cup of half and half (or rice milk, for vegan recipe), and heat to temp without boiling.

for the salsa:

combine 1 cup fresh green peas and 1/2 a fennel bulb, chopped to pea-sized with a handful of fresh chopped basil. dress lightly with a vinaigrette of lemon juice, garlic, salt, white wine vinegar, and olive oil. serve but the spoonful in top of the soup, or on the side. serve whole meal with garlic toast.

This made a wonderfully light, flavourful meal, and would be a great way to use up lettuce that's gone wilty (but not slimy) in the crisper. It would also be great served cold, or with grilled cheese sandwiches. We used rice milk instead of the half and half the recipe calls for (one of our guests is lactose-intolerant) which worked out just fine, although for those of you who are neither vegan not lactose-intolerant, half and half (or, let's be honest, heavy cream) would be incomparable.

I have one more reading to attend today, as the festival dies down, as well as old projects to finish up, and new ones to begin. I'm going to be beginning a new series of interviews here on ye olde blogge, the first of which should be up within the next two weeks--the series will be called "artistic synergies" and will be made up of interviews with artistic couples that feed off each other's talents and ambitions to further their own arts. More later!

le printemps pousse

In French, the lovely phrase above is what one uses this time of year. Figuratively, it means that Spring is arriving, or growing, but it literally means "the Spring is pushing," pushing up from the dark place it has slept all year, pushing the fine, bristled seed pods full to bursting. Here in New York I am on spring holiday, and am afforded this time to fully take in the beauty of this time of year.

To be honest, I never appreciated this time of year until I moved East. Growing up, I always thought of this time of year just as the beginning of the hot season I so disdained. Winter, with its mild rains and bright clear frosts was my favourite time of year, and as soon as the thermometer read over 85 degrees--which it did on a good fifth of the days of the year--I just headed inside, away from the sun.

Here in New York the spring has an entirely different meaning, in context with--GASP--other seasons. After several months now of wool coats, thick stockings, layers upon layers of petticoats, my poor fishy-white feet were rewarded today with this:
How wonderful after seeing no grass for months to finally dig your toes into some good, healthy sod. I couldn't help but grin like a fool as I walked about barefoot, shoes in hand, and enjoyed a bounteous dose of vitamin D. Here are the other fruits of my leisure today:





How many wonderful things are "pousse"-ing just now! Don't those daffodil buds just make the winter worthwhile?

I have one more work shift tomorrow morning, and then once again off to Manhattan, where I will buy a paté sandwich and meringues at my favourite French cafe for lunch, and then visit Erin at the photo shoot where she will be working--she is helping me knit my first hat, which has been a rather testy project, but will prove my competence as a knitter if it does not look awful. The weather the way it is, I may just be able to leave my coat at home for the week. :)

the signs are prodigious

Today is Miss Jamie's birthday, so let's all say together, Happy Birthday Jamie! Ahem.

Now that we've finished with that, I must apologize for being so long absent from this URL for so long. I shall simply skip the excuses and distract you with these lovely images of autumn here in Bronxville:


I think this little guy liked the sound of my camera shutter...I was lucky enough to get a nice half-hour break in the rain to obtain these! This week is probably to be the doomed last of these colours, but it is a very lively one at Sarah Lawrence--this weekend is Halloween, which may be the best loved and most fervently celebrated of all holidays here, as well as Fall Formal and parents' weekend (we all know that they assign this weekend as family weekend on purpose, in some vain attempt to cut down on partying). I will be enjoying myself on Halloween with my housemates here, but this Friday, I have more important plans than a school dance: the Mister and I have tickets to see the wonderful Cloud Cult live in Brooklyn. Their September album, Light Chasers, is one of my favourites of the year, and presented me with a much-needed burst of autumn optimism earlier in the semester.

I won't go too far into what about this album was so important for me, but I think it has to do with the end of a long spiritual search for the songwriter and the literal birth of new chance for he and his wife. His and the band's story can be found at length on Wikipedia, and it's compelling enough to warrant a read even if you aren't a fan. Something tells me that Light Chasers will be the last Cloud Cult album, maybe for a while, maybe forever, but I think it's a fitting end to a story that is both heartbreaking and deeply triumphant. I am looking forward to a good, hard, empathetic cry at this concert.

In other news, I have been holing myself up here, gearing up for the second half of this semester. I'm two-thirds of the way through Spenser's The Faerie Queene for conference work in Bill Shullenberger's class, and studying Symbolism at length for (get this) an eight-page paper written entirely in French! I must admit that this is a wholly masochistic mission on my part, and one that continually challenges me when I receive potions of it returned to me positively splattered in red pen. But I'm learning... slowly but surely.

I have also been cooking. Intensely. So much cooking. Some of my sweetheart's and my most successful experiments have been: sweet-potato-and-edamame pancakes with baked apples; acorn squash stuffed with grains, hazelnuts, and figs; eggplant, chard, tomato and rice casserole; butternut squash with butter and sugar (for desert!); leeks vinaigrette, which has quickly turned into "any steamed vegetable vinaigrette"; Perfect Miso Soup; and lots of homemade bread. Unfortunately, and this may be very cruel on my part, I haven't any recipes. The two of us have decided it's useless to write down recipes that we come up with--we never end up following them, and we often like to make things just once. But rest assure that they were all delicious, even if completely unreproducible.

I will be home for Thanksgiving weekend, which (hopefully) means that I will make something somewhat like these for my family and maybe have recipes! FOr now, though, I am off to read more George Herbert and teach my housemate Gabe to make bread... Pictures later, and certainly after this weekend!

Another List, I Know...

Well, I've once again survived the journey back to the west coast, and have begun to move into my routine here. Menus are being planned, soft-boiled eggs consumed, and many friends have been hugged. As I slowly shed my jet lag and make up all of the sleep I lost in my last few days in New York, I have been listing mentally all of the wonderful discoveries I've made in this first year living there:

1) Some brilliant late-at-night eateries, including (but certainly not limited to) L'Express for 24-hour French food on Park Ave. at 20th Street, Cosmic Cantina (3rd Ave. at 13th) for organic, vegetarian, and raw food burritos, Chickpea (14th Street) for falafel, and 71 Irving (Irving near Gramercy Park), which isn't open too late, but makes great sandwiches, coffee, and pastries.

2) The antiques garage on 21st or so between 6th and 7th Avenues, I think, though I will need to double-check this one. Two levels of the garage rich with vendors or vintage clothing, artwork, jewelry, and such. The Mister and I have spent way too much time here agonizing over whether or not to buy the table lamp that needs all the glass plates in its shade replaced. Only place I know with a vendor that sells almost nothing more that antique corkscrews and bottle openers.

3) New York shows are cheaper than California shows! Go see concerts in New York!

4) Dog-watching: better than anywhere but Paris.

5) Harlem. If nothing else, it is so worth just wandering around this neighborhood on a warm afternoon. It has a more vibrant street culture than elsewhere in the city: there are rowns and rows of vendors selling incense, books, reggae music, ice cream, perfume, and thick spears of fresh fruit on skewers. People are friendly here, also! And, you are bound to see at least one good-looking man dressed in a suit that seems plucked out of the '20's. Sundays are the best: you can here the singing in the churches from the street, and all of the older ladies come out in their brilliant hats!

6) Thursday night Chelsea gallery walk. Largest concentration of pretentious conceptual art and free wine in NYC. No matter how cold it is outside, don't bring a jacket because the body heat in the galleries is sweltering and you'll end up carrying it around more frequently than wearing it.

Well, there may be more later, but for now these are the most memorable bits.

Today, I am trying a new muffin recipe--I'm trying to replicate the Morning Glory muffin at the Grey Dog's on west 16th Street--as well as a quick raw food recipe from Jónsi and Alex's cookbook, a pdf of which can be found here. The Mister is coming into town tonight, so we'll taste-test and update with results tomorrow...

Hello Springtime, Hello Blog!

I know, it's been many a week since I've posted on this-here blog. In fact, since I last posted, spring has sprung here in New York:

I took this photo before my spring holiday in California, nearly two weeks ago now, and most of these lovely little rain-soaked snowdrops have gone hence, replaced now by sunny daffodils, asters, and the fleshy pink, fragrant blooms of the tulip trees. More pictures to follow in the next few days.

I now write this post from the comfort of my periwinkle-purple blanket, stretched out on the back lawn of Tweed, in my bathing suit and heart-shaped glasses, contentedly listening to Radio Dismuke--any of you who enjoy 1920's and '30's music should take advantage of this wonderful online radio--and wishing desperately that I had lemonade (or a gin fizz!). It's nearly miserably hot, but my fishy-white legs are admittedly enjoying the exposure to the elements. They've been cooped up in thick stockings far too long!

I have several pictures I wish to share from my trip home, namely this favourite recipe of ours--

Our modified Saumon en Papillote, Italian style:

This recipe is inspired by one from Jamie Oliver's kitchen, although for the life of me I can't think where we saw it originally. It's equally good for feeding one or ten--just wrap salmon fillets (individually or a big one like the one pictured) in aluminum foil and add a little olive oil, white wine, salt and pepper, and fresh chopped grape tomatoes, kalamata olives, capers, basil leaves, and a little dollop of butter. Wrap them up, stick them in the oven at 375-400 for twenty minutes or so, and the salmon creates its own little wine sauce. Super elegant, quick as all hell, an some of the most delicious fish you'll have had in a while. It also works well with other fish.

Also, whilst in California, I had the pleasure of an Early-Easter-Double-Birthday-57th-Wedding-Anniversary (whew!) bash at my Grandparents' house. All of my first and second cousins were there to celebrate with a huge meal, two cakes, and gifts for the birthday kids:
From left, these are my family: Sarah, Kyla (one birthday girl), Wendy, Max, Katie Rose (the other birthday girl), me, and Scotty. And here are our slightly less flattering sides:
I particularly like how droopy Max's moustache looks in this second photograph.

Relaxing on my Grandparents' back patio, several of us tried our hand at the skipping rope tricks we hadn't done since the grade school:
(Scotty getting some "mad air" while Kyla looks on)
(my brother Max, sans droopy moustache)
(me, attempting a "criss-cross, applesauce," taken by Scotty)

And now, the sun dips further and further behind the roofline of Tweed, and I have a few more rays of sunlight to take in... More photos of spring soon, I promise!