Archive for November, 2009
Rugs aren’t as cheap as you assume they should be.
especialy since it seems that you can pick up a small one for about 5 bucks, but a larger one goes into the $100’s.
Luckly some craft genius put two and two together and made one of her own. Although this is a stealable idea, her makeshift rug looks like a few well sewn place mats.
What the fuck does a girl have to do to get this piece of magic into her life?!
Ikea sold me an extravigant amount of tea lights for an unbelieible small amount of money!
I grabbed a steamer that was about 5 bucks in Chinatown, and loaded it up! Now they sit in the bathroom waiting for the end of a day that calls for a candle lit bath.
Bring in the sexy song!
I’m not much of a garderer but I recently felt that my apartment could use some greenery beyond my plasitic Ikea plants. So I went to the farmers market and picked up a pot of dill, rosemary, and basil.
Came home only to realize I had nothing to put them in. So I grabbed some old cups, filled the bottom with mulch for my snakes cage for drainage (marbles would have worked too). Split the plants up and put the directly into the cups!
Its been working suprisingly well. With the exception of the one time I over did it on the water for the basil and ended up drowning one root. (r.i.p. basil buddy)
I don’t recall ever being a huge fan of brownies, growing up. Probably because growing up with a less than domestic mother, I always assumed that the kind I made from the box were just how they were supposed to taste. It was kind of like eating a texture-less soggy chocolate cake.
So when I began to learn about baking a bit more, I thought that there had to be a reason WHY people eat this stuff. I realized through my “ottering“* technique of eating that I only really cared for the top layer. That minuet layer between the papery flakey top and the gooey center. The upper crust, if you will.
Apparently, that thick layer of crunchy sugary goodness that clings to the dense warm gooey layer of chocolate is just a meringue*! So basically my idea of the perfect brownie is a meringue half-breed! The secret to that upper crust is this:
The longer you beat the eggs and sugar in the first step, the thicker your crust will get.
(ottering: When Chloe dissects her food into sections and pieces, eating the most delicious parts and discarding the rest)
(meringue: a light starchy cookie made by beating egg whites and sugar)
I followed a Martha Stewart recipe that required 10 minutes of egg beating. I don’t have the longest attention span, and I used a hand mixer. Hence, I only mixed for about 5-7 minutes before moving forward but they came out fantastic, anyway.
Here is how I made them:ingredients:
- 1 cup of unsalted butter, plus more for pan
- 8 ounces unsweetened chocolate
- 5 large eggs
- 3 1/2 cups sugar
- 2 teaspoons instant espresso
- 1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
- 1 2/3 cups sifted all-purpose flour
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 cup semisweet chocolate chips
Raise oven temperature to 400 degrees. Generously butter a 9-by-13-inch baking pan; set aside.
Combine chocolate and butter in a heat-proof bowl or the top of a double boiler. Set over a pan of simmering water until the chocolate mixture has melted. Remove from heat; set aside.
Add sugar, eggs, and instant espresso to a bowl
n the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat eggs, sugar, and espresso at high speed, 10 minutes.
Reduce speed to low, and add melted-chocolate mixture and the vanilla; beat until combined.
Slowly add flour and salt; beat just until incorporated. Fold in chocolate chips.
Pour the batter into the prepared pan
Bake until edges are dry but center is still soft, about 35 minutes. Remove pan from oven, and transfer to a wire rack to cool. Cut and inhale.
No time, today. Been cookin’ up a storm to stop my brain from spinning….more of a pulsating feeling.
I just found myself intranced with these stories behind how these photographers got their toughest shot.
“I took this picture the moment we realized we were sinking. It was 1999 and I was in the hold of a 25-foot handmade sailboat with 44 Haitian immigrants. Water started pouring in and David, the man looking at the camera, said, “Chris, you’d better start taking pictures, because we only have an hour to live.” I was 29, trying to capture a journey of immigrants who risk everything to reach America. That I could die here hadn’t registered until this moment. All I could do was take photographs as a reflex, a way to deal with my fear, even though I assumed the pictures were going to die with me. We were saved by a Coast Guard cutter that happened upon us. It made me understand that taking photographs is as much about explaining the world to myself as it is about explaining it to other people.”