Jan. 31: Classic Shortbread Part II

Today I made Classic Shortbread again. This one was for Denise. Her younger daughter babysit tonight so James and I could go to a friend's birthday party. I've been promising Denise her own shortbread, and today was a great chance to do that.

I'm glad James and I decided to get a sitter and go to the party. The birthday girl is our neighbor and one of James' softball teammates. Many of the guests were from the Clean and Sober Softball League. There's nothing quite like hanging out with a bunch of recovering alcholics. They know how to have fun like no one else I know.

I spent most of the day getting Christian moved back into his room. The furniture arrived today, and it looks great! He's still not moved entirely in; we'll be back to work at that in the morning. Tomorrow my friend Cindy is coming down for lunch; and then there's the Superbowl, which we'll be watching now that we know it's on NBC not ABC (we're switching TV providers anyway).

Today, too, my friend, Marlene, was on my mind a lot. That's because three years ago today she took her own life.

In his inaugural address, President Obama quoted George Washington when he described the struggles our nation faced 230 years ago and the troubles we face today as occurring "...in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive..."

That phrase stuck with me: Nothing but hope and virtue.

I believe that life, like the seasons, is circular. That the darkness of winter is bearable only because we can count on the light of summer coming around again. The Celts recognized Feb. 2 as the day that the snowdrops, the first flowers of the new year, bloom in the cold and frost. They signify the promise that spring is close by.

On Feb. 2, 2006, I pointed out our blooming snowdrops to Christian on our way to the bus stop. Thirty minutes later I learned that my dear friend Marlene had given up on hope and virtue.

Marlene was quixotic, unpredictable, wickedly funny, fearless and fiercely loyal. We met in January 2002 and became fast friends. She traveled through life like a tumbleweed, and I knew she'd move on again. She did, indeed, leave Seattle in December 2005.

Marlene lived passionately. She cared deeply. And she reached out and seized experiences. She dragged me to piano concerts, plays, book readings and movies. Once we cut work to see a foreign film in the middle of the afternoon. It turned out to be soft-porn! Neither of us had been prepared for that. We we were horrified--but we giggled through the entire thing, slumped down in our seats, afraid of getting caught like kids. It was bad enough to sneak out of the office to see a movie, but to do it to see a dirty one?

I have a photo that I took of Marlene on Jan. 31, 2004. She and Denise and I were in Palm Springs. It was a fabulous trip. On that day in the depth of winter, we lounged in the warmth of sun and laughter.

That's how I like to remember her.

Jan. 26: Chocolate Crackles

Linda said these are the "Best. Freaking. Cookies. Ever."

But I suspect she would say that about any cookies that magically appeared on her desk.

Chocolate Crackles (pg. 68) are pretty good. But messy to make. I accidentally got some chocolate on a library book because my hands were covered with goo.

I'm preparing to head to Book Club and am enjoying this quiet house. James swooped in, grabbed the boys for soccer practice, and headed out. And may I say that he is a major pain in the butt? Crabby and short-tempered, thanks to Day 4 of no cigarettes.

I keep reminding myself that it's the withdrawals and that I just need to ignore him. But it can be hard. It's not my fault he started smoking again or that he needs to quit. But apparently it is my fault that I exist in the same universe he occupies. For this I must be punished.

In happier news, I booked a Girls' Trip to Palm Springs with Denise, Renee and Linda last week. We leave next Saturday. We hadn't planned on a trip, but the airfare got so low it seemed criminal not to take advantage of it. After companion fares, the Alaska sale, and a rental car coupon code, the entire trip (minus gas, food, movie tickets and martini ingredients) will cost less than $200 per person. For four nights! Who could resist? I took a similar trip at exactly the same time of year in 2007 with many of the same Girlfriends. (Princess, we'll miss you!) There have been at least two others since then. I wish I could get ALL the Girlfriends together for one big Palm Springs slumber party sometime! Gee--that sounds kind of like my 40th birthday party last year....

Before, dear reader, you think that I'm some privileged, pampered wifey who jets off to Palm Springs on a whim, let me set you straight about a few things:

1. The vacation house ain't mine. It belongs to the mother-in-law. But I do control the calendar.

2. I clean my own house--including bathrooms.

3. I get my hair cut once or twice a year. And it never turns out the way I envisioned.

4. While I do enjoy an infrequent pedicure, my version of a manicure is clipping my nails over the sink every few months.

5. My nicest clothes are hand-me-downs from my sister.

6. On any given day, my socks either have holes in them, don't match the rest of my outfit or don't match each other.

7. I don't wear make-up. (Okay, rarely. And never well.)

8. Many of my neighbors refuse to acknowledge me. (See #2-7 above.)

That's just a taste of the not-so-attractive stuff. What's the flip side?

1. I have access to a vacation house. DUH, mean neighbors! You're missing out.

2. I'm a damn fine housekeeper.

3. The money I save on haircuts and color I spend on fancy kitchen equipment.

4. I'm not afraid to dig in the dirt.

5. The money I save on clothes I spend on books.

6. I don't feel pressured to waste time looking for matching, hole-free socks.

7. My morning routine is smokin' fast.

8. I don't need to dress up for the school bus stop because no one will notice anyway. And if they do, it won't change their opinion of me.

What a thrify, practical and down-to-earth wife I am! James should count himself lucky. The crabby bastard.

Jan. 21: Coconut Macaroons

I violated my Martha List. Wednesday night I made Barefoot Contessa Coconut Macaroons.

I probably should have checked to see if Martha had a recipe. But I didn't set out to bake cookies. I was looking for a tropical-theme dessert to take to Renee's house for Lost night. Coconut Macaroons it was. They turned out very good--especially warm from the oven. I've learned that James loves them. And Renee's husband, Rob, does not.

We watched the season premiere at their house because our satellite company dropped ABC in December. It didn't affect our lives for the past month, but now that Lost is back, we're feeling the pain. Today James is setting up service through a new company. Turns out the Superbowl is on ABC this year.

Tonight I'm sitting here eating a Cookie Dough Blizzard from DQ. James brought us all ice cream treats in celebration of his rejoining a health club. Tomorrow, the big diet starts. As for me, I climbed the stairs three times this week. For some reason, most coworkers look at me in horror when they learn what I'm doing. I just tell them that the water fountain on 16 is way colder than the one on 2.

That's only one of the interesting things I've learned recently. Other favorite tidbits I've picked up this week include:

1. An 87-year-old, 100-pound woman can take 30 Vicodin pills in a four-day period and remain surprisingly functional.

2. Occupying a car that you know to be stolen is against the law. But only if you get caught.

3. My great-grandmother had her fifth (and last) child at age 48. Holy shit!

4. The King County Sheriff's office frowns on hands-on cell phone use while driving. (At least it was my car. See #2.)

5. Late-onset menopause may run in my family. (See #3.)

6. I'm addicted to those chocolate Whoppers.

Life is full of surprises.

And this weekend is full of kids and chores. Basketball game, baseball sign-ups, soccer game, birthday party, housework.

I'm also hoping to find time to work on my cookbook. Well, it's not really a cookbook, per se. Last year I decided to gather recipes, stories and photos of family and friends, and put them all together into one collection. I love working on it, but there's so little time. Last year when James spent January in Palm Springs, I spent many late nights writing. It's harder now.

So far my favorite part are the photos. Like this one of my great-grandmother, her grandmother and my grandfather. It was taken around 1918. Through the work I've done so far, I've seen how much food connects us with one another. The growing of it, the preparing, the serving, the eating and the sharing. At first I was amazed at the number of food-related and cooking-related photos I've collected. But now it's not so surprising. The kitchen is at the heart of our home, and we love to share what comes out of it, I guess. Even if the reason is as ordinary as watching a TV show with friends.

Jan. 18: Classic Shortbread

I finally have shortbread for Denise! Yay!

I've been promising her some. Now I just need to get it to her. It's so easy to send cookies across the street to Renee (I sent her some, too). Denise is 15 minutes away. Stay tuned: I will manage that. Maybe I just need to throw the kids in the car and head over there.

I was hoping to make Classic Shortbread, page 109, this month. Robert Burns' birthday is Jan. 25; also, we're approaching the observation of Imbolc and the season of Brigit--the ancient goddess of early spring, new beginnings, and the hearth and home. Shortbread was traditionally made this time of year in the British Isles, particularly the kind I made: round with crimped edges to represent the rays of the sun, which is reborn at midwinter.

Speaking of crimped edges, James caught me red-handed with my shiny new tart pan. Bah! The man is such a tightwad. Come to think of it, he was born in Scotland.

I worked at home today due to school closures. Happy MLK Day! Noah came over to play with Christian. It's nice to see him again; the boys seem to be getting along fine. My fears that they'd never be friends again were unfounded. I knew I should have known better.

As for Christian, he's in quite a bit of pain--he ran into someone's head at soccer practice on Saturday, putting his teeth through his lip. Again. He walks around here drooling and whimpering, holding an ice pack to his mouth. We keep explaining that the ice works only right after the injury to reduce swelling. But he's 10. We can't tell him anything.

What with all the dripping Ziploc bags of ice, it's probably good that school was closed today. But, that did mean I had to work at home. I appreciate the freedom to do that when needed. It makes my life as a working mom much easier. But there are days. Such as today.

After working and chasing kids out of the office all day, I was a little frazzled. Then, I had a 2 p.m. conference call. But I had to leave at 2:15 to take Christian to soccer practice. Hmm. Did I mention that my boss' boss was running the call? That was a first for me. And meant I had to be on my best conference-call behavior. None of that hiding in the bathtub with the phone in one ear and a finger in the other while a child pounds on the locked bathroom door.

So I participated on my cell phone while driving, even though I really should have been taking notes. I had two loud, needy and stubborn boys in the backseat (the term "I'm on the phone" to them means "talk louder"). Thank God for the mute button.

Somehow, I managed to follow a conversation occurring in Portland while arguing with the soccer field parking attendant. (No, I'm not paying $5 for parking in order to escort my 10-year-old into the soccer facility, and no, I'm not dropping him off at the curb. You can kiss my ass.)

As excited as I am to see Barack sworn in tomorrow, I know the truth: That man is able to become president only because his wife handles all the details.

After a day at home I'm pretty pumped about going to the office tomorrow. But I feel for Barack. While he's at work for the next four years? His family will be right upstairs.

Well, hell's bells. It's 7 p.m. And I still need to vacuum out my car, clean Ian's room, finish the dishes and kick the kids off the TV. Not physically off--you know what I mean. I don't think I'll make it to Denise's tonight. Tomorrow! Shortbread only gets better with age, right?

Jan. 17: Grammy's Chocolate Cookies, Part II

Ah. Peace!

The T.V. is off! James took Christian to a soccer game. Ian is happily playing with Christian's Bakugan (shhhh!), and I'm baking cookies. All to the soundtrack of my iPod's "Mellow" playlist. A perfect Saturday night.

And a nice way to end a busy week. I can't believe everything I've crammed into the last seven days.

First, before I re-join the office gym, I'm testing myself to see how serious I am about getting into shape (I don't spend $20 a month lightly). So I climbed the office stairs, from five stories below ground to the 16th floor, four times in five days. Ooh, boy. Do my thighs hurt! But I'm convinced my butt is already tighter.

And I'm trying to work more fruits and vegetables into my diet. No more snow to blame my rickets on. It's going well. So I'm smug.

On top of that, toss a two-hour meeting with our accountant and attorney (to sign our will--blech), a fun lunch with my Auntie Karen, an Al-Anon meeting, a fifth-grade band concert, an evening in Ian's preschool classroom...I could go on. In the words of a good friend, "I ty-ty!" But I feel good about how productive I've been. It's short-lived, I know, so I'm trying to enjoy it while it lasts.
Today's news: Christian finally has new bedroom furniture! He's been living in the guest room while James built an attic storeroom adjacent to his room, re-wired, re-trimmed, painted, etc. I love my storeroom. It has the cutest little door in Christian's wall. And I can store to my heart's content. The project has taken a year. But that's all I'll say about that.

Meanwhile, the guest room is a disaster with all of Christian's crap. And since Ian inherited Christian's old furniture in the interim, poor Christian owns a dresser in the hallway. And that's it. We got a screaming deal on nice furniture at a local store that's closing. James may even go back tomorrow to buy new office furniture. Our current set-up is, well... Let's just say a couple milk crates on cinderblocks would be better.

Funny how, once you start spending money, it's hard to stop. No matter how much you know you should. But hey: We just signed our will! If we don't spend it, the lawyers'll get it.

Come to think of it, they're getting an awful lot of it already. But don't get me started.

Instead, I should write about cookies! Isn't that why we're all here?

So, I'm baking more Grammy's Chocolate Cookies for Wilma's birthday. It's all she wants. And since she's impossible to buy for, cool!

Tomorow, shortbread. I hit a sale at City Kitchens this week and picked up the 10" tart pan, a round cutter and even a tart tamper (that sounds kind of dirty). All for less than $20! I rock.

So, my main goal for the rest of the weekend is shortbread, housework and grocery shopping. Oh, and bathing the dog. And my car needs to be vacuumed out. And those dead dahlias out front need to be cut down before James starts calling me the neighborhood white trash again. (He really needs to stop that.) I need to finish my book club book. Damn, and I need to make the bed.

But I'm going to coffee with Renee in the morning, so it will all have to wait. Jeez. Now I'm all stressed out over everything I need to do! So much for Saturday Night Peace.

Jan. 11: Grammy's Chocolate Cookies

These were awesome cookies! I sent some to my mother-in-law, Wilma, this morning, who said, for her birthday next week, she'd LOVE more. And my friend Linda at the office said, "Cocoa, buttery, yummy deliciousness!" (She said I could quote her.) Grammy's Chocolate Cookies, page 75, are a huge hit.

I have to say, though, that I hate working with Dutch cocoa. It turns to chocolate-in-the-air and ends up on everything. In reviewing all the ingredients and supplies I'll need in the coming year, however, I see a lot of Dutch cocoa in my future.

Along with pounds of powdery, chocolatey deliciousness, I will need a few other items over the coming months: Lyle's Golden Syrup. Dark rum, bourbon, brandy and Grand Marnier. Anise seeds. Several sizes of ice cream scoops. Various cookie cutters. Wooden skewers. Lard. And the infamous 10" tart pan. Among many other things.

I suspect that I won't be finding many of these items at the local Fred Meyer. So, Whole Foods, Williams-Sonoma, City Kitchens and Sur la Table and I are going to be great friends this year.

Fortunately, I have a pantry with lots of nooks and crannies. All the better to hide my purchases in.

I recently cleaned and sorted my pantry. January's a good time for cleaning out. I like this dark, brooding weather. I feel bad about the flooding--many people have lost their homes and belongings. Even our normally mellow Cedar River turned brown and angry last week. It leapt its banks just outside town and invited some of its streams to join in. It's still raging, although just within its banks now. It's amazing to think about the volume of water that these rivers are moving out of the mountains.

Floods aside, I don't mind the dark and the wet. This morning the Seattle skyscrapers were hiding their heads in the fog. They looked aloof but a little cozy that way. The earth is sleeping and storing the moisture for summer. We're not even half-way through winter, though. I know that by February I'll be hankering for Palm Springs.

James gets tired of this weather. I've told him to go down to Palm Springs for a few days, but he won't. Fares are at an all-time low and his mom's house is just sitting there empty. He's too focused on the investments and work though. And now he thinks he really did tear his shoulder tendons again. He was lifting a closet door and heard two pops and then had lots of pain. Well, I'm not a surgeon, but I don't think lifting doors falls under the direction of "take it easy" for three months. But who am I to say? Oh, and he quit smoking today. I have a feeling we'll be going through a lot of cookies in the next few months.

I'm really enjoying the sharing part of this project. James and the kids, of course love it, too. They just wish I wouldn't share with anyone outside the house! My mom is still waiting for some of those peanut butter cookies (soon, I promise!). It's fun to make sure I'm spreading the cookie wealth.

Linda and I shared cookies for dessert today at lunch. It was too January to go out, so she and I did the cafeteria thing.

We're two of the last three members of the old Regence Gang. She and I have been friends for 15 years. If Linda leaves, then I'll have to be shortly behind. For me, there would be no Regence without Linda. Hopefully, neither of us is going anywhere for awhile, so I look forward to sharing cookies with her for the next 11 months. Oh, and she thinks she has some of the Ateco decorating tips I need. I'm sure she'll be willing to give them to me--in exchange for some chocolatey, buttery goodness.

Jan. 9: Peanut Butter Cookies Part II

I'm in a cookie rut. I violated my list again. James broadly hinted last night that he'd sure like some more peanut butter cookies. What the heck.

I baked this batch for even less time (12 minutes). Better than 14. I don't know what Martha was thinking with 25.

Around the time I started baking, I called my sister Laura to learn the results of her ultrasound: another girl! My niece Ava (age 4) decided that she will name her little sister Lavender Bluebird. I like it, but I think my sister and her husband are considering something more traditional. That's a photo of Laura and me baking cookies in the 1970s. She ended up with a culinary arts degree and a career managing a nursing home dietary department. I ended up here, writing a cookie blog.

Speaking of which, I was planning on making Classic Shortbread today. It's actually on my list. But I discovered last night that I need a 10" tart pan to do that. Wish I'd known that when I was at Williams-Sonoma in downtown Seattle yesterday. There's not one to be found in Southeast King County. I'll make a list of all the equipment I need for the 39 more recipes so I can be on the look out for everything.

It was good to get back to work this week. I was grateful to have lunch with friends, talk on the phone without having to yell at kids and balance my checkbook for the first time in weeks. Oh, and working. Working without children hanging over my shoulder is very productive.

This week also brought, however, more anxiety about the failure of the company that manages our investments. Best case, we could escape with our properties intact. Worst case, we could lose both of them. It's scary, frustrating and maddening. We did nothing wrong, but we end up paying. But, so goes the credit crisis, I guess. Meanwhile, James is tense and cranky.

I tend to forget about the issue for long periods of time because I have more immediate things to take care of. Kids, housework, job, errands, etc. They're all great distractions.

And tonight I'm heading out for another great distraction: Girls' Night, with Denise, Renee and Ronae. Probably going to see Slumdog Millionaire and get dinner. I have amazing friends. Nice, funny, smart, creative and a lot of fun. I think it's a good policy to hang out with people I would like to be more like.

They're not going to be happy, though, to find out that I have no shortbread. Tomorrow, I break the rut, I swear.

Jan. 3, 2009: Peanut Butter Cookies

I think I've created a minor problem.

My family has developed an attitude of entitlement when it comes to cookies. One recipe into the year, and they're already looking at an empty cookie jar with a "what the #$*@?" expression on their faces.

Cookieless after the snickerdoodles success, James last night put in a cavalier order for his favorites: Peanut Butter Cookies, pg. 184.

So, here I am tonight, writing an unscheduled blog entry about unscheduled cookies.

They were good, but not without incident. Either Martha is crazy or there is a typo in the recipe. Bake for 25 minutes? That seemed excessive, so I put the first pan in for 10 minutes and did the Martha Pan Rotate. They burned! So, the next pan went in for a total of 14 minutes. That worked better.

As usual, they lasted less than 24 hours. Ian ate the last one today, after taunting Christian with "I ate the last cookie!" and waving the last cookie around in his fat little hand.

School starts tomorrow--and I couldn't be more pleased.

I did manage to snag four cookies for my friend Renee. Turns out they're one of her favorites, so I'm glad it worked out this way. She and I escaped this morning for one of our Sunday Morning Coffee runs. It's nice to hit the local Starbucks at 8 a.m., well before even the church crowd. We sink into the purple velvet chairs, put caffeine in our veins and do the catching up that is impossible to do while running from the schoolbus stop to our cars on weekday mornings.

Renee is one of the nicest surprises I've ever had. Not long after moving into this neighborhood six years ago I concluded that I was not going to make any friends here. Most of the moms stayed at home and had perfect hair, perfect manicures, and perfect children (or so they claim). I drive 30 miles into downtown Seattle every day, so I'm not around for playdates. My kids and I are far from perfect. My nails are a mess and my hair without hope. I can't linger at the bus stop with my coffee cup and plan the day's Costco run with the other moms. I felt alone and left out.

After a year or two, Renee and I discovered each other. She'd actually been here all along, but it took awhile for us to recogize the kindred spirit living just across the street! Now we happily share similar attitudes and opinions, along with books, Book Club membership, movies, shopping, martinis, vent sessions and Girlfriends' Trips. We call ourselves the Clique of Two.

Sometimes the best things come along when we least expect it. Every day can bring surprises and unexpected detours. Like Renee and peanut butter cookies. I guess this means I should be open to my family's special requests. They could ask for the one recipe I never planned on making but someday could not do without.

Jan. 1, 2009: Snickerdoodles

I'd planned to make the first of the 40 during the day on Jan. 1. They ended up coming out of the oven around 10 p.m.

We got a late start to the day due to a late night on New Year's Eve. James and I joined my friends Jamey and Mary at a local casino for slots, dinner and a Joan Jett concert. James hadn't met J and M yet, and he admitted earlier in the day that he was a little worried that he might say or do something inappropriate or offensive. (James doesn't have much confidence in his social couth.)

I knew better. And Jamey didn't let me down: Within five minutes after meeting James, Jamey used the term "dry hump." James was immediately at ease and had a great time! What better way to start the new year: fun company, good food, some laughs and '80s rock and roll? Oh, and a little vodka never hurt. I hope 2009 lives up to its promising start.

Anyway, the Snickerdoodles, pg. 82, were late in coming, but they are really good! My first recipe is a hit. The first 10 were gone before I could get a taste. Martha insists on rotating the pan half-way through baking. I'm doing it, but wondering if it really makes a difference. I've also learned not to be shy with the size of the cookies. I started them off too small. Got to remember, Think Big!

Which led me to thinking: Not good to keep all these cookies around the house. So, I will be making a point of sharing throughout the year. To start off with, the boys and I took some to my sister Sam today.

Along with the cookies, I also gave Sam my old Big Red Mixer. Had to make room for the new one. She and Al will give Big Red a loving home. They also scored with a brand-new KitchenAid toaster oven that my mother-in-law bought and never used (that happens a lot). I already have one, so off it went to Sam's house. Sam gives me so many fabulous clothes that I'm glad to return the favor when I can. How cool is it is to have a sister 10 years younger, 10 years hipper and the same size as me?

We also took a bag of cookies to my mom at the nursery where she works. She very thoughtfully took the boys off to explore the plants and koi pond so Sam and I could peacefully cruise the Christmas ornanment sale (50% off!). Came home with some primroses and fabulous ornaments. I have great plans for my tree next year. Stay tuned.

In honor of the new year, I've also resurrected my one-year-old project of the family recipe book. More on that later. But it's good to get back to work on it.

The shiny brand-new year brings so many good intentions. Like, pick up those French books again! (Hah. My French word-of-the-day is about all I can really manage.) Or re-read all Sharon Kay Penman's novels. (That I might actually attempt.) But I haven't even started this month's Book Club book, The Ghost in Love. I'm a couple chapters into The Thames: A Biography. And my herb books keep calling me. Planting season is only a few months away.

With the snow mostly gone (thank God), I can see a few bulbs already coming up. I'm worried about my jasmine--it looks a little brown. And I'm hoping my Tom Thumb fuschia made it through the cold. And my roses...and my new black tupelo tree...and my lilacs...and my mock orange...and my pink panda strawberries...

I hate winter.

Better to focus on the good things that January will bring. School reopens on Tuesday. Can't. Wait. Looking forward to coffee with my friend Renee on Sunday morning. Excited about spending my Williams-Sonoma gift certificate next week (thanks Mom!).

Finally, we all need to get into a routine. Back on schedule. Back to real meals, activities, and regular bedtimes. This 2 a.m. stuff is hard on an out-of-shape 40-year-old, no matter how much I still love rock and roll.