Excuses, Excuses

My moodiness is inherited, definitely.  My ability to destroy an electronic device on contact is spontaneous, probably.  The combination of these things is lethal in relation to updating this blog.  The current collection of ill or already deceased electronics in my possession is as follows: one camera with blurred vision and a suspiciously foggy lens, two laptops (both elderly) one with a broken port (apparently they’re only good for approx 2,000 plugs?) and one which refuses to connect to the Internet under any circumstances.  There’s an  iPod with a broken LCD screen AND a dislodged new battery (no fault of my own, I assure you.) There’s also a new iPhone (acquired once my original phone split into three pieces) which works for the most part but is stubbornly resistant to my music choices, not that I blame it; most people who have spent a lot of time with me in the past week are now also resistant to the endless stream of Michael Jackson songs.

  

My home computers are dead to me and to anyone else for that matter so that means no blog posts from there.  I have a new job and that means no more updates from work, I mean I never really did that anyway.  My roommates are kind but when we’re all around they’re usually using their own computers and though they do often entrust me with their cameras they probably shouldn’t because I am the kiss of death sweetly disguised in a colorful apron.  The lack of reliable photography seems detrimental in an attempt at food blogging and so once I make the decision to repair or re-buy we’ll hopefully be good to go again.

 

Onto the moodiness.  I can be cranky, needy, and tired in the mind and body.  I can also be delightful, cheery, and compassionate. I can be rather giddy, and often silly but sometimes (enough of the time) I’d rather just crawl up in the fetal position and rock myself to sleep preferably to to the tune of the aforementioned Jackson.  I’m thankful to the people who lovingly put up with all of this and while I understand it might be a bit taxing to those who love me, I don’t want to change.  I’m too old for it really, too set in my ways, but most of all I like myself this way.  Usually, anyway. It means I feel deeply, I connect with myself and I experience what is happening.  Well, I like to think it’s these things.

 

Anyway, this moodiness can come out with my cooking.  I’ll invite people over for dinner and I’ll fuss and I’ll fuss and after hours and hours of chopping, stirring, blending, arranging, and scrubbing (God, how I hate dishes) someone will say, “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t like black pepper,” and I’ll throw my hands in the air and I’ll cry and I’ll wail and I’ll think “why, oh why, do I do this?  What does it matter?  For all this time and effort and we could be eating McDonald’s.”  They don’t mean it.  They shouldn’t even have to like black pepper.  For goodness sake, they never even asked to be invited over for dinner; they didn’t want me to fuss.

 

It happens just the same when I cook for myself.  Take the recent time when I spent nearly $50 on Chana Masala for myself (that cardamom powder is damn expensive these days) and slaved for hours over properly caramelized onions (did you know that to achieve perfection it takes at least 4 hours?)  I sat down with myself and thought, “I could have ordered a three course Indian meal for this cost and had the afternoon for a movie and a run in the park.”  But then I remember when I caught myself licking that masala bowl.  I remember my roommate’s quiet pride when she recently surprised our dinner guests with a palate cleanser of homemade watermelon sorbet.  I remember that full feeling when you put away the last wine glass after a wildly successful dinner and I know I’d do it all again.

 

Even so,  I was in one of my moody non-cooking funks recently when I remembered this is about garlic scape time.  You do remember Mr.Scape, don’t you? I have been anxiously awaiting their return for an entire year and so I started a half hearted search in all the wrong places.  I turned up empty time and again.  And then one day after a particularly terrible time at work, I stumbled out of my office happy it was still daylight and looked up in wonder.  There was a (rather attractive)  man under a tent selling garlic scapes in the middle of two subway entrances.  MY subway entrance.  And he would be there very Thursday until the end of scape season.  Could it be that the scapes had found me?

I bought him out again and again- I think maybe 6 pounds in total and I planned a dinner party around scapes.  I made creamy soup, glorious salad dressing (better than Green Goddess, I think) grilled scapes, bright scape pesto, smooth garlic scape butter, tangy lemon & scape potato salad, and quite possibly the most delicious burger I’ve ever made with chopped scapes, garlic scape aioli, and goat cheese.  I have even been charmed by the cousin of the scape- green garlic.  It seems unfair to tell you about this now as garlic scape season is nearly over but I’ll have my recipes ready for you next season.  You can also come over for dinner anytime- the frozen scape goodness is certain to last me for months to come.

In the meantime the funk is slowly lifting.  During a recent “mood” shall we say, my friend was trying to force me into making her a cocktail and some lunch when she exclaimed, “I’m just trying to make you happy!  It makes YOU so happy to make me delicious things!”  She’s sort of right.  I might act put out or bothered but really I love you for asking; particularly if you ask for something specific; something I’ve made you before that sticks with you.  And so I made her a scape burger, some sweet tea vodka with lemonade, and some of Molly Wizenburg’s banana bread with chocolate and crystallized ginger.  That bread has been haunting me since reading Molly’s book and as it turns out, satisfying a nagging desire is also helpful in funk relief.

 

If by now you’re still here you’re likely wondering where I’m going with this post.  Well, I don’t know suffice to say I have been cooking lately (sort of) but I just haven’t felt much like writing or posting about it.  Nor do I currently have the technology to do so.  But I’ll be back soon enough with tales of the famous 36 hour cookie, breakfast ideas and maybe some green garlic soup.   But for now I’ll give you some pictures of things to look forward to (some from my phone camera) and a link to my favorite summer cocktail of this year.  So far I’ve been through several successful pitchers.  My advice?  They’re being polite about the amount of vodka.  You can safely double it with no adverse consequences and if you wanted to use that honey infused vodka we talked about last year you go for it.

 

http://www.bonappetit.com/magazine/2009/07/sweet_tea_with_vodka_and_lemonade\

And lastly, Jen experiencing the garlic scape for the first time: