• the quotidian (6.6.16)

    Quotidian: daily, usual or customary; 
    everyday; ordinary; commonplace



    Summer feast.

    Tenderloins, the “fish” cut: grilled. 
    (I think it needed some ginger.)

    Cooking colors.

    Frozen whoopies, sliced.

    A great substitute for gummy candy: dried nanners.

    Ask the Costco cake lady if she gives lessons, and she will hand over all her contact information,
    plus an entire tube of icing with instructions to start practicing.
    Making edible treats.

    The perks of a personal patch.

    Doing it wrong.

    The little guy and his adoring fans.

    Candid.

    Sibling love notes.

    Unfinished and functional. In other words, this is how it’s gonna be.
    Three of us have now read it.
    Airing out.

    When you have a bunch of friends and a small room: rooftop lounge. 

    This same time, years previous: a better grilled cheese sandwich, the quotidian (6.2.14), on pins and needles, delivery, the quotidian (6.3.13), meat market, chocobananos, white icing, of a sun-filled evening, the best chocolate ice cream ever, strawberry daiquiris, sour cream ice cream, on hold, and what it’s about.

  • brown sugar rhubarb muffins

    I’m officially out of the post-play slump. Things that have helped:

    *The sun! It stopped raining after nearly an entire month of soppy weather. Now it’s hot and muggy, my left foot is swollen, the lawn needs mowed every other day, and I’m taking the kids to the pool this afternoon. Hip-hip.

    *Rehearsals for the next play have started! In my down moments, I once again have lines running through my head. And you know what? I love the constant bubbling of words in my brain. It’s comforting, in a jittery sort of way.

    *The strawberries are coming! Last night was the first full-patch picking. With four of us working together, it wasn’t such a big deal. 

    *Consistent morning runs with a non-fussy husband! In fact, so a-okay is he with running that he goes on runs on my days off, crazy guy.

    *I’m back to writing. Note the absence of an exclamation point. I feel like a fish out of water after a couple months off. I look at the pages I’ve written and my head feels like it’s cracking in half. Pure torture. So I…

    *Started a writing group! I checked in with a writer friend to see if she had interest and before I knew it, I had a group of eight, super-smart, super-intimidating writer people who are going to be squinting their eyes at my very not-polished work. This is bad because SCARY. But also good because MOTIVATION.

    *New recipes! Actually, all of May was a good month for recipes. (I’m still dreaming of butter chicken, and I’m gearing up to make this salad again.) Among the winners was a new rhubarb muffin recipe that caused me to eat more than I should have. In other words, success!

    I realize there’s already a rhubarb muffin recipe on the blog, but hey, that was five years ago. It’s time for a new take, right? Besides, one can never have too many muffins. (And this one is easier than the other recipe to make. Tastier, too, I think.)

    Cool thing: if you don’t over mix the batter, the brown sugar stays in little clumps and then dissolves in the oven’s heat, leaving the muffins speckled with little pools of caramely sweetness.

    Brown Sugar Rhubarb Muffins
    Blog reader Susan alerted me to this recipe which comes from Mel’s Kitchen.

    for the batter:
    2½ cups flour
    1¼ cups brown sugar, lightly packed
    1 teaspoon each baking powder and baking soda
    ½ teaspoon salt
    1½ cups rhubarb, chopped small
    ½ cup oil
    1 egg
    1 teaspoon vanilla
    1 cup sour milk (or buttermilk)
    1 recipe crumbs (see below)

    Stir together the flour, brown sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. It’s okay if there are little lumps of brown sugar. Add the rhubarb and toss to coat.

    In a separate bowl, combine the wet ingredients. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry and combine, taking care not to over mix.

    Divide the batter into greased (or paper-lined) muffin tins (don’t over-fill them like I did—makes them nearly impossible to dump out afterward), sprinkle with the crumbs, and bake at 350 degrees for about 15 minutes. Cool for about 10 minutes before removing from the tins. Serve warm, though leftovers are excellent, too.

    for the crumbs:
    ¼ cup each flour and brown sugar
    ¼ teaspoon cinnamon
    1 tablespoon oil

    Put all ingredients in a bowl and mash together with a fork.

    This same time, years previous: the quotidian (6.1.15), small pasta with spinach and bacon, and three reds fruit crumble.

  • the quotidian (5.30.16)

    Quotidian: daily, usual or customary; 
    everyday; ordinary; commonplace



    I say it’s better than apple pie, though the rest of my family does not agree.
    Because I spent all afternoon snacking: my supper. 
    Dumpling lessons, from their Japanese auntie.
    Pan-fried: she also made deep-fried and boiled.

    The art of stacking dishes.

    Optimism reevaluated. 
    Snake identification.

    As though standing on a piece of metal will protect their bare feet should the snake strike.

    All the better to see you with, my dear.

    The kid has a knack for making sparks. 
    About two seconds after this photo was taken, the lamb peed and pooped.
    In the van. My daughter was not prepared.
    Just for fun (because it’s all fun and games until…you have to use it when someone is actually hurt).

    Ever wonder what a shrink-wrapped foot looks like? Now you know.

    Itchy bumps: all over her feet, elbows, and upper thighs. 
    Any ideas?

    Cat toy.

    Surprise attack.

    Style.

    Sent to me with the caption: “How bored can you get??!!”

    Ballet recital: she’s finally found something she wants to stick with for more than five minutes.
    Sleepy, on my sofa.

    Day’s end.

    This same time, years previous: in her element, spicy cabbage, the race we saw, showtime!, the saturation point, rhubarb tart and rhubarb tea, and fresh strawberry cream pie.