For awhile now, I’ve been on the lookout for an extra-large mug for hot tea. Ordinary mugs are too small — if I go to the trouble of making tea, I want it to last for a good while — and I didn’t want the bowl-like ones (two wide) or skinny tall ones that taper at the bottom (too wobbly) And then just this week I found these at the thrift store.

There was a whole selection, but I limited myself to just three. Even at thrift-store prices, they weren’t cheap (7 dollars per mug), and I didn’t know if I’d actually like drinking out of them. Plus, since they’re so big (each mug holds an ample pint), I knew I wouldn’t use them for company — I only needed one or two for myself. 

Turns out, they’re fantastic and now that I see that one mug goes for 26 dollars, I’m kinda wishing I got the rest (even though I don’t actually need them).  

***

I’m thoroughly enjoying Suleika Jaouad’s memoir about being diagnosed with cancer as a young adult, making it through, and then figuring out how to live without the cancer. Somehow she manages to write her story in such a way that it’s moving without being depressing. (The last book I read, though, was super depressing [and so good I bought it]. I think I’m due a comedy, or at least something uplifting. Suggestions?)

***

Currently, my husband and I are binging Succession. Something about the show — probably the excessive wealth — reminds me of Downton Abbey, but with cell phones and prolific cursing. (Shh, don’t tell my husband; he hates that show.) The characters are horrible, yet so human. In spite of myself, I find myself caring about them. My husband and I will sit around in the evening discussing their motives and foibles as though they’re real. (We both agree, though, that if one of them doesn’t begin to show signs of positive growth soon, we might have to give it up.) My biggest takeaway? I love my ordinary life.

***

Regarding my problem with rough feet: remember that foot scraper that my mom bought for me? Well, I finally busted it out and WOW. After using it just two times, I started sleeping without socks (flannel sheets and rough feet do not a happy sleeper make), and I haven’t slept without socks for months. 

I hate the feel of rasping a grater over my skin as much as the next person, but I made myself do it and it doesn’t bother me much anymore. About twice a week, right before jumping in the shower, I give my feet a good going-over. (After experimenting with using it on both wet feet and dry, I’ve decided that using the rasper on dry feet is more effective.) It only takes a few seconds and my feet feel amazing. It’s a game changer, I tell you.

***

I’m still undecided about this YouTube experiment. It’s a lot of fun, and I love this medium for teaching — I enjoy sharing what I’m learning, and I like how taking videos of myself helps me shrug off my perfectionist tendencies — but it takes a lot of time, and I’m not sure who my audience is, or how much I should attempt to blend the two platforms. (I’ve read that blog readers tend to be different from YouTube viewers, so I don’t expect there to be much overlap.) For now, I’ve decided to stick with the plan: I’ll post a new video every Tuesday and Friday, and I may start sharing the videos here on the weekend — Saturday morning Murch TV, anyone? — and after a few months I’ll reevaluate.

***

It’s Friday and I’m looking forward to making a massive cup of spiked hot chocolate this evening and then settling in for a couple episodes of Succession (in quick succession). Have a great weekend, friends!

This same time, years previous: berry crostata, the quotidian (3.2.20), the quotidian (3.4.19), classic German gingerbread, creamy Costco-esque cake filling, kids and money: how we’re doing it, tradition!, girl party, grocery shopping, air, print, internet, a monument to childhood.

Sunday, we celebrated my younger daughter’s 18th birthday (though her real birthday isn’t for another couple years — she’ll be five!). For her gift, we all went together and got her a camera, and I got her this book on photography, which I’m looking forward to reading.

Her meal requests were specific: Captain Crunch for breakfast, chef salads for lunch, and honey-baked chicken for supper. The birthday cake, though, was entirely up to me. I could make whatever I wanted, she said. 

I tossed around a bunch of ideas before finally settling on a red velvet cake. It felt a little risky, though. I’ve never found a red velvet cake that I like — they usually seem dry and/or flavorless, and the bright red feels garish — but then I happened on a post in which the writer had tested a whole bunch of red velvet cakes and then shared her favorite. If she said this cake was the best, then I’d trust her — she’d done her homework, after all — and then I proceeded to knock out two batches of cake in one afternoon. 

Turns out, it’s the best red velvet cake I’ve had. In fact, I think it might be my new go-to recipe for festive occasions. Something about it — the deep red color, perhaps, or maybe the kiss of chocolate — feels special. Lush, even. Seductive. Just thinking about it makes me happy.

For the filling, I went with my copycat Costco-esque cream filling — sooooo good. I worried the cream filling would sploosh out the sides of the cake — two recipes of cake, a whole heck-of-a-bunch of layers high — but I kept popping the cake in the refrigerator whenever I wasn’t working on it, and it held its shape just fine. 

For the icing, I made a double batch of cream cheese frosting with a little extra butter to help it set up firmer. The frosting was too sweet: an Italian Meringue Buttercream would’ve been better, I think, but I didn’t make it because my daughter isn’t a fan.  

For the decorations, just fresh strawberries and red raspberries, and I wrapped the top tier in a chocolate cage. It was my first time making one — I used this tutorial — and it was shockingly simple: minimal effort, big impact. 

The cake-and-cream filling combo was my favorite part. Add in a fresh berry — heaven.

My mom asked why I don’t just ice the whole cake with the Costco filling; she might be on to something.

Red Velvet Cake
Adapted from Divas Can Cook.

The recipe calls for one to two ounces red food coloring. I used one and it was perfect.

2 cups flour
2 cups sugar
2 tablespoons cocoa powder
1 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup buttermilk
1 cup oil
½ cup coffee
2 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 ounce red food coloring
1 teaspoon white vinegar

Sift together the dry ingredients in one bowl. In another bowl, whisk together the wet ingredients. Combine the two and whisk well. 

Divide the batter between two greased, parchment-lined cake pans. Bake at 325 for about half an hour. Watch closely — do not overbake! Cool in the pans for 10 minutes before inverting onto a cooling rack and removing the parchment paper. 

Once the cakes are completely cool, ice and serve, or wrap the cakes in plastic and freeze for later. 

This same time, years previous: currently, perfect pita, old-fashioned molasses cream sandwich cookies, homecoming, the Chicoj coffee cooperative, leap year baby, potatoes and onions.

There’s a rectangular patch of woods a little ways down the road from our house. It’s not big, maybe 15 acres or so, but because it’s edged by two roads that I frequently run, I notice it a lot. Deer lurk in the shadows, and squirrels rustle in the leaves so aggressively — they sound more like large mammals than harmless, furry-tailed rodents — that I get heart palpitations. 

Christmas Day 2019: the forest at my back

Anyway. Over the last week or two, they’ve been logging that forest. In the early morning, we hear the chainsaws start up and then all day long, the screaming crashes and thunder-booms as one massive tree after another hits the ground. I keep checking the tree line. Did we used to be able to see the mountain ridge through the trees, or is that new? How much wood are they taking? Do they plan to leveling the entire forest, or are they clearing just a small area? 

“How many trees are they going to cut?” my younger son says to no one in particular. 

This morning when I ran by in the icy drizzle, chainsaws were already roaring and a small crane was loading trees onto a truck. I thought about stopping and asking about their plans, but then I didn’t.

The steady thud of falling trees gives me a bit of a cosmic doomsday vibe: the world’s heating up, the trees are disappearing, crash-boom.

“It seems wrong,” I said to my husband the other night. “They’re destroying a forest.” 

“Where do you think the wood that I build with comes from?” he asked.

He has a point, I suppose. Perhaps it’s fitting that we — a family who lives on a builder’s income — hear the trees fall. If we all lived right next to the garbage dumps and slaughter houses and the water treatment plants — the unsightly inner workings that fuel our daily lifestyle choices — we might be less inclined to take things for granted, more thoughtful about the choices we make.

November 2021: in my parents’ woods

The first time our Puerto Rican friends joined our family at my parents’ for a wood-cutting party, they were taken aback. “You’re allowed to do this?” they asked, incredulous, gesturing at the downed trees, the piles of firewood, the axes and chainsaws.

“Yes, it’s their land,” we said. “But not only are we allowed to take out firewood, removing the dead trees and clearing certain areas allows for new growth that actually makes the forest stronger.”

right now

Maybe the guys down the road are just cleaning up the woods? You know, thinning out some of the trees. Tidying up a bit. 

It seems unlikely, but I can still hope.

This same time, years previous: baked pasta with harissa bolognese, the quotidian (2.24.20), homemade pasta, steer sitting, the quotidian (2.24.14), birds and bugs, bandwagons, cream scones.