Catnip Crafts

As you may have guessed, I'm borderline obsessed with my two cats, Chandler and Whitey Ford. They're such an active part of our little family! I send their "grandmaggie" (my mom) pictures of them every day, doing things that I'm sure signal their obvious genius, but to others probably just look like cats being cats. I think they're brilliant (it's true, they are.).

Anywho, when they were babies, Miles and I bought them little catnip toys shaped like fruit. Whitey adopted the bananas and Chandler, the strawberry. There's also a cherry-at-large, which gets passed around. They can entertain themselves for HOURS with this fruit. It's adorable. Unfortunately, one day tragedy struck.

I sucked up the strawberry in the vacuum cleaner.

I spent a half an hour rooting through the very full bag looking for Chandler's baby with him by my side. Short of dumping the dirt out in the kitchen, I realized I would not find the toy, and even if I did, it would be so dusty that it would probably choke him. I felt like my mom must have felt when she left my sister's blanket, Fuzzy B, at McDonald's and it got thrown away. I searched high and low across three states for replacement catnip strawberries, but they had been discontinued (damn you, Petco!). Chandler adopted the cherries, but you could tell he just didn't feel the same about them. Then, to top it all off, when we moved the cats across the country two weeks ago, I LEFT THE STUPID CHERRIES IN CALIFORNIA. Poor Chan just can't catch a break! So, to make up for my shortcomings, I decided to make him his very own strawberry. Plus, this one would be made in South Carolina, not China, so I wouldn't have to worry that it was dipped in formaldehyde, which isn't so good for cats. Or people.

Whitey was pretty jealous of the strawberry, so I made him a jalapeno.

Chan playing with the jalapeno...

Whitey, molesting the strawberry (Whitey has a tongue to match 70 grit sandpaper, so the strawberry is in rough shape right now. I'm investigating ways to make it sturdier, because at this rate, the strawberry will be demolished in about 18 hours...)

Not bad, right?? Maybe I could have a cat toy side business. I'd call it "Fuzzy Drumsticks and the Chan Chan Man"! (that's also the name of the children's book I'm planning on writing, but that's another post).

On the Road

Greetings from somewhere in Arizona... For those of you who don't know, we are undergoing a de-feathering of the nest. In fact, the nest is moving to Brooklyn! It's quite exciting. Not quite as exciting as a road trip with two cats, but exciting nonetheless. Speaking of road trips, you haven't lived until you've driven across the desert with two cats. Whitey Ford was brave enough to use the kitty litter pan while in motion. Out of respect for his privacy, I'll refrain from posting the picture of it. You'll have to take my word for it that it was priceless.

Instead of devasting my cat's dignity, I'll leave you with a photo of a very cool Dairy Queen we stopped at in Holbrook, AZ. Very retro- take a look:



Taken with the hipstamatic iPhone app- another find!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Holbrook,United States

Finally! Eastern Columbia follow-up.

My posts have been long-delayed, dear readers, and for that, I am sorry. I'm actually in the process of un-feathering my nest-- more on that later. In the meantime, please feast your eyes on the interiors of the ECB in downtown Los Angeles. Kelly Wearstler did the interior design.

These elevator doors are original to the building; the motif on them is exactly the same as the design on the elevator doors in the Chrysler Building in New York, except the Chrysler doors are inlaid wood instead of mirror. I was very excited to realize that as I was doing research for my historical analysis paper. I felt like an intrepid discoverer.

Cookbooks I can't live without. (part deux)

Many moons ago I started a "Cookbooks I can't live without" series (by series, I mean one post. My life has been very busy, which I will elaborate upon further at a later date. No, I'm not pregnant!).

Well, back to business. I miss my blog! Here we go, diving right back into the kitchen.  Cookbook number two: Cooking for Two: Perfect Meals for Pairs by Jessica Strand.

(image courtesy of barnesandnoble.com)

In the interest of full disclosure, what I love most about this book is its design. It's very visually appealing, which is muy importante to me when I'm purchasing a cookbook. Let's be honest: most of the fun of a cookbook is flipping through, reading the the recipes, and finding something that looks so irresistible that you must- MUST-- drop all previous cooking plans and start trying that recipe immediately (you're probably starting to get a pretty good idea about how and why I get into so many kitchen conundrums.)

My favorite recipe in this one is for individual chicken pot pies. It's a great way to use leftover chicken and vegetables you have sitting around,  and it seems much fancier than it is. The more I cook, the more I start to understand how a recipe works, if it will work, if it's missing something... And so here, I must be honest; as much as I love this cookbook, I have found some flaws, at least in this particular recipe. Flaw #1: it doesn't mention SALT. I'm pretty sure that's an oversight. Believe you me, I followed this one to the letter once, sans salt, and while it was fine, it definitely would have benefitting from a bit of the ol' salty salty. Also, it requires you to make a bechamel sauce for the insides of the pies; once you've learned how to do that, which is quite easy, you start to recognize when a sauce will work, and when it will make dough instead of sauce. This one required too little butter for the amount of flour it called for-- 2 tablespoons butter to 1/4 cup of flour! So I increased the butter to 3 tablespoons and used a scant 1/4 C. Perfect. Here's my adapted recipe after the jump (CLICK READ MORE, MAMA)-- enjoy!

A business-minded cat.

I couldn't resist sharing these pictures. What a funny dude. Whitey Ford gets obsessed with sleeping spots; for months he slept in a green upholstered chair, claiming it as his own to the point where if you sat in it at all, he flipped out. This month's obsession: the dining table on top of the mail. Behold:

What a doll.

Walking in LA

People don't walk in LA unless they are absolutely forced. Couldn't park close to the elevator at the Grove? Walk. No street parking outside your friend's apartment in West Hollywood? Walk. I, however, chose to walk around downtown LA on Monday-- something people DEFINITELY don't do. Angelenos avoid downtown like the plague. A few hip rebels live in the newly renovated lofts down there and swear by their neighborhood choice, but I suspect there are many people born and raised in LA who have never set foot south of the 101 and east of the 110.

It's a shame really, because if you get out of your car for a second and look up, you get the idea that LA is much more culturally rich than Hollywood has lead you to believe-- and the evidence is in the architecture. I'm writing a historical design analysis paper for my interior design class this week, and I've chosen to focus on the Eastern Columbia Building. I'm an Art Decophile. F. Scott Fitzgerald is one of my favorite authors, and I'm fascinated by the Jazz Age; Art Deco is the architectural extension of that period, marked by post-war exuberance and the desire to let loose and rebel against the pre-war Victorian era and wartime austerity. Take a look at these pictures and tell me you don't feel the same way...

Turquoise terra cotta-- it's how LA does Art Deco

A great example of zig-zag Art Deco

These are the original terrazzo sidewalks, which were restored when the building underwent a condo conversion in 2007

Enough procrastinating! Back to the paper. I'll update this post with more detail and interior shots of the Eastern Columbia Building (ID by Kelly Wearstler, the grand dame of Los Angeles maximalist interior design, which plays quite well with Art Deco. You'll see!)

The Devil is a Chocolate Salted Caramel Cake.

Easter Sunday was not the finest day for our household. We planned our day around a tutoring session Miles had at 11; we thought we'd go to an early service, Miles would go to tutoring, then we'd relax for the rest of the day. Ha. So we thought. We missed church due to an internet snafu (services were at 10:30, not at 9 as the website said), and Miles' student canceled the lesson right as he was walking out the door (how thoughtful.). In an attempt to turn our day around, I decided to bake a cake.

I may never bake again.

For starters, I should have listened to my mother when she told me it was insane to bake a cake when my kitchen sink was clogged. How many dirty dishes can it possibly make, I thought. I work in a bakery. I should have KNOWN how many dirty dishes it would cause. Mountains of them.

Lesson number 2: always read the recipe in its entirety before you commit to the project. Had I done that, I would have noticed that the recipe required me to make caramel-- twice-- which is something I'd never done before. That may have given me pause. Oh, if only I had been given pause...

The cake baking went fantastically. I have some new Chicago Metallic 8" round pans that performed like magic. While the layers were cooling, I worked on the salted caramel and whipped caramel ganache. Cue the ominous music. I thought caramel batch #1 was a little burned, so I seriously erred on the side of caution for batch #2, which was for the whipped ganache. As a result, the ganache never really achieved the "fluffy" consistency the recipe indicated, even after HOURS of whipping. I'm not exaggerating. We had an EARTHQUAKE, and my little KitchenAid artisan stand mixer was still there in the corner, whipping away.

At Miles's suggestion, I made a 3rd batch of caramel; the idea was that if I added more caramel to my ganache milkshake, maybe it would thicken up. This third batch was PERFECT. The most beautiful batch of caramel you've ever seen. It did nothing for my milkshake. Finally, I decided to just start over with the frosting (keep in mind that we're washing dishes in the bathroom sink because the kitchen sink is so clogged that water is backing up out of the dishwasher. By the end of all of this, I've washed so much chocolate down the bathroom sink that it's coming out of the toilet. That was exciting.).

Batch #4 of caramel was somewhere between batch #3 and batch #1, and when I whipped it, a liquid came out of it that I thought was unusual but just went with. What did I know?? After all of that, the frosting really didn't look that much different than the first batch. At this point, I had made Miles make me a whiskey. I could hardly bear to look at the cake, let alone frost it. But I soldiered through (I know! I'm tough, that's what you're thinking. It's true. I am.). However, at this point, my cake layers had been cooling for about 9 hours. One of the layers had the consistency of almost-dried concrete. Great. I didn't care. I was frosting this cake if it was the last thing I was going to do. As you can imagine, milkshake frosting doesn't exactly stick so well to the side of the cake, so after a little refrigeration, I could get it to do my bidding (must keep this in mind when dealing with Miles).

I'm getting stressed out reliving this, so let's just get to the pictures:

No, they don't let me frost cupcakes at the bakery, if that's what you're wondering. But not toooo bad looking, right? "Rustic" maybe, but not hideously ugly. Take a look at what it looked like the next day:

Sigh.

At least it tasted good. Unfortunately, I now feel like I have to defend my baking skills to Miles, so I think I'll tackle banana cupcakes next. To be continued (cue ominous music)...