2 cups of sugar
1 cup canola oil
4 eggs
6 tablespoons of cocoa
1 teaspoon vanilla
1.5 cups of flour
1.5 teaspoons of baking powder
1 teaspoon of kosher salt
2 tablespoons of instant coffee
1/4 cup of brewed coffee
3/4 cup chopped walnuts (optional)
Heat oven to 325 degrees.
Mix together the sugar, oil, eggs, cocoa and vanilla in a mixer until they are well combined. Scrape down the bowl at least once. In a separate bowl, (I use my larger glass measuring cups for this) combine the flour, baking powder and salt. Stir with a whisk to combine thoroughly. Add slowly to the egg/sugar mixture. In a small cup, mix the brewed coffee with the instant coffee. Mix well. Measure 2 tablespoons of this mixture and add to the brownie mixture, discarding the rest. Stir well. If you like walnuts, add them now.
Grease a 1/4 sheet pan or a similarly sized pan (about 13x9) using butter. I use part of the butter wax paper wrapper for this. Pour the brownie mixture into the pan, spreading it evenly. Cook for about 25-30 minutes. It should stop wiggling in the middle when you gently shake the pan when it is done.
I LOVE these. They are the perfect level of gooey for me- completely suitable for brownie sundaes. Enjoy!
18 April, 2011
17 April, 2011
I Scream, You Scream......
So I have been cooking more! Yesterday I made super tasty Greek frozen yogurt. It was delicious and completely easy. You can find the recipe I used by clicking here. The recipe is quoted from a book called The Perfect Scoop", which went right onto my Amazon wishlist. It was definitely a Pinkberry type taste- it was very good. Kind of tart and sweet at the same time.
I think I will be trying to modify this basic recipe in the future. I have this ice cream maker, that we have mostly used to make sorbets. I have also made this Barefoot Contessa ice cream, which was very decadent with stewed berries. This summer will see our ice cream maker in use a lot, I suspect.
I think I will be trying to modify this basic recipe in the future. I have this ice cream maker, that we have mostly used to make sorbets. I have also made this Barefoot Contessa ice cream, which was very decadent with stewed berries. This summer will see our ice cream maker in use a lot, I suspect.
11 April, 2011
Dreamscape
I had a dream a few days ago that was a bit strange. It was strange in a way that dreams rarely are; it wasn’t an oddity of locale, or of situation, rather, it was strange in a way I have never experienced before.
In my dream, my family and I were moving into a new house. It was amarvelous house, filled with teak cabinetry fitted out like an old ship, with wood paneled ceilings and walls. It felt cozy and warm, with the sense of peeking through a honey jar- all golden and glowing.
We were all separated, exploring our new home. I was peeking into the rooms, in love with the whole experience, planning where our furniture would be, imagining our future in this house. I was delighted to find out that the house didn’t just feel like a ship- it was a wonderful house-boat. I could even see an island through the porthole in one of the bedrooms.
I wandered happily in the house boat of my dream until I came to a certain door. The door was old wood, scarred and pitted. It was fitted with old copper hinges and an Arts and Crafts style latch, in the shape of a triangle. I lifted the latch and the door creaked open.
Inside, the walls were creamy plaster, a relief from all of the wood grain. It was a large bright walk in closet with a small stained glass window, a la Frank Lloyd Wright. There was a closet bar, with seven assorted men’s shirts hanging on wood hangers. I felt the well washed linen and cotton shirts, enjoying the coolness of the fabric. Just a few things, perhaps left by a former owner, I guessed. My breath caught in my throat as I looked around. On a peg hung an extraordinary tie rack- it was a complete work of art. The tie rack was a sort of golden, wooden hanger with a marvelous Arts and Crafts style motif, where the sumptuous silk ties ran through slits built into the design for that very purpose. It looked as though Frank Lloyd Wright had
gotten drunk and designed it as party trick.
It was the tie rack that gave birth to the very strange feeling that was the part of the dream I remembered best. I ran my fingers over the silk of the ties and began to wonder whose dream I had wandered into. The dream-reality didn’t fade, but the feeling and certainty grew- this was definitely not my own dream place, but someone else’s. Not my dream house-boat. Someone else’s own, personal dreamscape that I had happened upon. The delight in the house gave way to a feeling of trespass into something so personal, so intimate. I backed out of the closet and then I woke up.
I had such a strong sense of being an intruder in the dream, in my own dream place. I am still puzzled by it.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
In my dream, my family and I were moving into a new house. It was amarvelous house, filled with teak cabinetry fitted out like an old ship, with wood paneled ceilings and walls. It felt cozy and warm, with the sense of peeking through a honey jar- all golden and glowing.
We were all separated, exploring our new home. I was peeking into the rooms, in love with the whole experience, planning where our furniture would be, imagining our future in this house. I was delighted to find out that the house didn’t just feel like a ship- it was a wonderful house-boat. I could even see an island through the porthole in one of the bedrooms.
I wandered happily in the house boat of my dream until I came to a certain door. The door was old wood, scarred and pitted. It was fitted with old copper hinges and an Arts and Crafts style latch, in the shape of a triangle. I lifted the latch and the door creaked open.
Inside, the walls were creamy plaster, a relief from all of the wood grain. It was a large bright walk in closet with a small stained glass window, a la Frank Lloyd Wright. There was a closet bar, with seven assorted men’s shirts hanging on wood hangers. I felt the well washed linen and cotton shirts, enjoying the coolness of the fabric. Just a few things, perhaps left by a former owner, I guessed. My breath caught in my throat as I looked around. On a peg hung an extraordinary tie rack- it was a complete work of art. The tie rack was a sort of golden, wooden hanger with a marvelous Arts and Crafts style motif, where the sumptuous silk ties ran through slits built into the design for that very purpose. It looked as though Frank Lloyd Wright had
gotten drunk and designed it as party trick.
It was the tie rack that gave birth to the very strange feeling that was the part of the dream I remembered best. I ran my fingers over the silk of the ties and began to wonder whose dream I had wandered into. The dream-reality didn’t fade, but the feeling and certainty grew- this was definitely not my own dream place, but someone else’s. Not my dream house-boat. Someone else’s own, personal dreamscape that I had happened upon. The delight in the house gave way to a feeling of trespass into something so personal, so intimate. I backed out of the closet and then I woke up.
I had such a strong sense of being an intruder in the dream, in my own dream place. I am still puzzled by it.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
07 April, 2011
Not An SSK....
Ok, so here it is. I have no idea if this is something everyone else already does, but here it is anyhow.
Slip the first stitch to a Clover Locking Stitch Ring Marker, hold to the back. Slip the next stitch to the right hand needle. Slip the first stitch from the stitch marker back to the left needle. Then slip the second stitch back to the left needle. Knit both stitches together to the back loops.
Because an SSK is okay, but it doesn't really look like a match to a K2Tog. I am knitting a sweater for myself and the SSKs just looked so blergy. I like the way this looks a lot better. Maybe I will knit a swatch and add it to this post....
Slip the first stitch to a Clover Locking Stitch Ring Marker, hold to the back. Slip the next stitch to the right hand needle. Slip the first stitch from the stitch marker back to the left needle. Then slip the second stitch back to the left needle. Knit both stitches together to the back loops.
Because an SSK is okay, but it doesn't really look like a match to a K2Tog. I am knitting a sweater for myself and the SSKs just looked so blergy. I like the way this looks a lot better. Maybe I will knit a swatch and add it to this post....
06 April, 2011
Malentendu
There is a truth, universally acknowledged, that when my grandfather
sets his mind to something, he cannot be dissuaded.
I’ll rewind a bit. My grandfather decided to give my daughters a toy.
The toy in question was a bouncing rocking horse in a metal frame,
suspended from the frame with large metal springs, of a type no longer
manufactured. The reason it is no longer manufactured is that those
springs are extremely adept at catching little fingers and clothes and
hair. In short, it is decidedly dangerous.
He had offered the horse a few months ago and I declined, stating that
it was dangerous and I didn’t want it for the girls. He was patient.
He waited a month and asked again. I said no again, stating that I
really couldn’t afford the doctor’s bills, and would he kindly not ask
again.
On my oldest daughter’s birthday, he told me that his friend had a
gift for her, a rocking horse. I assumed he meant the horse in
question, and I was right. I told him that I would come by and look at
it (attempting to avoid an argument at my daughter’s birthday party),
so instead he brought the horse to my father’s house. An argument
ensued, with my father declaring the horse to be unsafe for children
to use. My grandfather left unhappy and my father was upset.
The next morning, my father and I discussed the matter and we have
decided on a course of action. The rocking horse is going to a better
place.
The dumpster at the marina.
sets his mind to something, he cannot be dissuaded.
I’ll rewind a bit. My grandfather decided to give my daughters a toy.
The toy in question was a bouncing rocking horse in a metal frame,
suspended from the frame with large metal springs, of a type no longer
manufactured. The reason it is no longer manufactured is that those
springs are extremely adept at catching little fingers and clothes and
hair. In short, it is decidedly dangerous.
He had offered the horse a few months ago and I declined, stating that
it was dangerous and I didn’t want it for the girls. He was patient.
He waited a month and asked again. I said no again, stating that I
really couldn’t afford the doctor’s bills, and would he kindly not ask
again.
On my oldest daughter’s birthday, he told me that his friend had a
gift for her, a rocking horse. I assumed he meant the horse in
question, and I was right. I told him that I would come by and look at
it (attempting to avoid an argument at my daughter’s birthday party),
so instead he brought the horse to my father’s house. An argument
ensued, with my father declaring the horse to be unsafe for children
to use. My grandfather left unhappy and my father was upset.
The next morning, my father and I discussed the matter and we have
decided on a course of action. The rocking horse is going to a better
place.
The dumpster at the marina.
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