Nobody Knows Anything

Via the Accidental Hedonist, there is a settlement to the Hershey’s trademark infraction suit concerning a Hershey’s bar appearing on the cover of a biography of Hershey. The story contains the best quote of the Foodie year:

Author Michael D’Antonio called the settlement “a victory for people who can’t tell the difference between recycled paper and chocolate”

Hahahahahahahaha.

Seriously, I don’t like the mouthfeel of Ghirardelli’s anymore — I can’t imagine trying to stomach a Hershey’s bar.

Despite being fairly sick yesterday — I didn’t get out of bed until 11am, and I don’t know when the last time that happened, other than it was undoubtedly Before Kids — I felt an urge to start baking. Like Christmas didn’t cure me of it. So I made Layered Brownies last night and Cocoa-Chocolate Chip Muffins this morning, both from Lisa Yockelson’s ChocolateChocolate. And it’s not like I have a fleet of people coming in to celebrate the New Year!

(The Cocoa-Chocolate Chip muffins seem to have turned out better than the Chocolate Chocolate Chip muffins I made from Baking By Flavor for my birthday — today’s muffins are a nice deep brown, whereas the ones on my birthday were kind of a light brown and nowhere near chocolatey enough.)

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I am wondering how I’m going to get back into the swing of things next week. We’re all waking up late — even the kids aren’t getting up until 9. Have I really been in the habit of getting up at 6 to meet my friends for early morning runs? This is going to take some doing.

I was reading Barbara’s post at Tigers and Strawberries about shopping for lemons at Whole Foods. One paragraph definitely stood out for me:

However, once I got up to the fish counter, and leaned in to take a look, the heavy smell of fish once again got to me. It was bad enough that I will not buy fish from them, but at least the smell is confined to within a few feet of the fish counter.

I have the same problem at the Whole Foods near me. At both of them, in fact. I do not buy fish from Whole Foods. I have no problem buying beef, chicken, pork… but I skip right past the fish counter because the smell is so overwhelming. I have no such problem at Lunardi’s, which has beautiful fish nicely laid out. What’s Whole Foods doing wrong?

Roger Ailes (the good one) has a wonderful end of the year news quiz, reminding us of so many of the wonderful low-lights of the past year. Check it out. He even has a 2006 in Preview section for smarty-pants who think they know it all.

Last Thursday Nina had to bow out of running in the morning because she had to pick up a friend. I said to myself, “I’ll go to the gym later.” Then Nina pinged me on IM and said, “Hey, want to go running around noon?” So we did, which was great, despite the rain. Yes, we ran in the rain! We are so hardcore these days.

On Friday I went to the gym and did my usual workout: two miles on the elliptical, then weights.

Oh, what a difference a two-day layoff makes.

Saturday we were doing errands for Christmas, so I didn’t do anything.

Sunday I stood on my feet for much too long and hurt my back.

Yesterday I said to myself, “Self, we are going to continue exercising, despite the amount of food you ate yesterday and that you’re a little dehydrated from the beer and champagne and that today you just don’t feel like it.” I hauled myself off to the gym and barely eked out a mile and a half on the elliptical. Then I did my lower body workout and found myself getting slower and weaker with every rep. So I said, “Self, you’ve proven you will start up your exercise regime again. Now go home and lie down.” Because I had already proven to myself who was in charge; I didn’t need to injure myself.

This morning I debated with myself whether or not to go running. On the one hand, it was Tuesday, and Tuesday was a running day. On the other hand, I felt like being a couch potato. “Self,” I said… And out the door I went, for the usual Tuesday morning run.

Not much fun. Well, running is a lot more fun these days when I run with someone, and all my running buds are on vacation, but beyond that: my body feels like it’s made of lead. I realized that I am still wildly dehydrated — not so much from drinking alcohol on Sunday as from not drinking enough water the past couple of days.

I got to the Hill sign (which is immediately followed by a 12% or so hill) and turned around. I couldn’t even face trying to run up that hill. I ran back home, always expecting that my next step would also be my last and I would just curl up on the side of the trail to nap for three or four years.

When I got home I felt slightly nauseated, as though I had been drinking, which I think is confirmation of my theory that I’m dehydrated. So today I will make it my mission to drink a heck of a lot more water.

I can’t believe what a little non-athletic puddle I’ve turned into in the past few days though. I guess exercise is like writing: you shouldn’t take any days off, because you immediately lose ground from where you are. And I have a run date with Rob on Thursday! Eek.

We had Christmas this year, and we had it in a big way. We got the tree, we held the dinner, we did the whole nine yards. (The tenth yard was, of course, buying and getting candles for a Hanukeah, because Hanukah started on Christmas this year.) The kids were excited out of their minds about this whole thing, especially after we bought this tree.

Look at this tree. I went out and bought a couple of boxes of generic ornaments, a couple of strands of tinsel, and two strands of lights. And it looks like a naked tree. Clearly over the years I’m going to have to invest in thousands and thousands of ornaments, just to make this thing look like it’s the teensiest bit decorated.

I also got stockings for the kids, which you can’t see on the fireplace because they’re hidden by that big-ass tree. They’re not matching stockings either: each kid picked out their own, and each chose according to personality: Sophia’s stocking is glittering and gold, and Simon’s is funny with a little Christmas scene across the top. In the morning both kids came tearing downstairs to see what Santa had left them — when offered the possibility that parents buy presents, Simon howled, “Nooo! Don’t say that!” — and both spontaneously yelled, “Thank you, Santa!” Usually I have to remind them of their manners, but for Santa? Anything.

By the way… that mound of presents (which extended around the tree and included my sister’s family’s presents)? Opened in approximately 45 seconds flat by the kids. I remember those days. Good times, good times. This morning I asked Sophia what she liked best about Christmas. She wasted not a moment. “The presents.” Just in case I wasn’t really sure.

On to the dinner.

The past few years, we’ve gotten a sour cream coffee cake from Zingerman’s. but this year we didn’t make our usual Zingerman’s order. But it’s Christmas! We need some kind of cake, right?

Darin and I used to go on dive trips for Christmas vacation. One year on Grand Cayman we found this fabulous rum cake, which you can only buy there. But then I found a recipe on Recipezaar that approximates that cake, and I found some Bacardi Vanila rum (I’ve never even seen this “whaler’s vanille rum” the recipe mentions). I’ve now made this cake twice, and it’s fabulous.

Basic Cake Mix
2 cups cake flour
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
4 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup butter, cut into bits
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
For the Cake
1/2 cup finely chopped walnuts
1 (3 1/2 ounce) package vanilla instant pudding mix
1/2 cup milk
4 eggs
1/2 cup whaler vanille rum (Hawaiian-style rum)
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Rum soaking Glaze
1/2 cup butter (do not substitute)
1/4 cup water
1 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup whaler vanille rum (Hawaiian-style rum)

Basic Cake Mix: In a large mixing bowl, combine basic cake mix ingredients. On low speed combine ingredients until the mix is the consistency of fine gravel, and all particles are about the same size. This mix may be contained and stored for up to 3 months in the refrigerator.

For the Cake: Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Spray a large Bundt pan (12 cup) with nonstick cooking spray. Sprinkle the chopped walnuts on the bottom. Place Basic Cake Mix, pudding mix, milk, eggs, rum, oil, and vanilla extract in a large bowl and combine on medium speed with electric mixer for 2 to 3 minutes, scrape down the bowl halfway through. The batter should be very smooth. Pour into Bundt pan. Bake for about 55 minutes- until fully golden and tester comes out clean and cake springs back. Remove from oven and place on a cooling rack while making the soaking glaze.

Rum Soaking Glaze: Combine butter, water and sugar in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil carefully as mixture boils over very easily. Reduce to a simmer and cook until sugar is dissolved and syrup is well combined and a little thicker. Remove from the heat and add the rum, mix to combine. While cake is still cooling, pour some of the hot syrup on top of the cake, allowing it time to soak in (this may take a few minutes as there will be a lot of syrup). Continue to add syrup until all of the syrup is added.

Allow cake to cool completerly in pan before turning out onto serving platter. This cake is delicate, so once it is turned out, it can not be moved around easily. Can be eaten when fully cool, but even better the next day!

And it is, too.

My mom is a big fruitcake nut, and I kept meaning to pick her up a fruitcake at Harry and David’s. Or order one from Zingerman’s. Or… you know, I could try my hand at making one. Maybe use Nick Malgieri’s fruitcake bar recipe.

Then on My Adventures in the Breadbox I found a recipe for Fruitcake Pinwheels (which comes from Better Homes and Gardens):

Prep: 25 min. Bake: 8 min. per batch Stand: 1 min. per batch Chill: 7 hours

1 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 & 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 cups finely chopped mixed candied fruits and peels
1 cup pecans, finely chopped

In a large bowl, beat butter for 30 seconds. Add granulated sugar, brown sugar, and baking powder; beat until combined. Beat in egg and vanilla. Beat in as much flour as you can. Stir in any remaining flour. Divide dough in half. Cover; chill for 3 hours or until dough is easy to handle.

Combine candied fruits and pecans; set aside. On a lightly floured surface, roll half of dough into a 12×8 inch rectangle. Sprinkle half of fruit mixture over rectangle to within 1/2 inch of edges. Beginning with a long side, roll up dough. Pinch edges to seal. Repeat with remaining dough and fruit mixture. Wrap rolls in plastic wrap. Chill for 4 hours or until firm.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Cut rolls into 1/4-inch slices. Place slices 1 inch apart on ungreased cookie sheet. Bake in preheated oven 8 to 10 minutes or until edges are firm. Cool 1 minute on cookie sheet. Transfer cookies to wire rack and let cool. Makes 92.

To Store: Layer cookies between waxed paper in an airtight container; cover. Store at room temperature up to 3 days or freeze up to 3 months.

I didn’t chop up the candied fruit peel, and as you can see from the picture…I kinda should have. I ruined the first batch of cookies, but we still had plenty afterwards. And they were damn tasty. The ones we didn’t eat I sent home with my mother, so that she could have a little cookie with her afternoon tea. Or her morning tea. Or whatever.

Darin decided to make Brie with a Jezebel sauce. I did take a picture of that, but it was both blurry and icky-looking, though apparently very tasty. I do not care for Brie, so I did not partake of it.

I planned on making Tarte Flambée (which Darin and I had made before, which is kind of a bacon-and-onion pizza) and gougères as hors d’oeuvres. I bagged on making the gougères — I’ll do that another day.

1 pizza dough
1/2 cup cottage cheese or fromage blanc
1/2 cup creme fraiche
1 tablespoon flour
1/4 pound smoked bacon, cut crosswise into 1/4-inch strips
1 small onion, peeled and sliced very thin

Preheat the oven to 425F and light coat 2 large baking sheets with vegetable oil. Divide the dough into four parts, and on a well-floured surface, roll each part into an 8-inch round. Place rounds on oiled baking sheets. Combine the cottage cheese, creme fraiche, and the 1 T of flour and stir until smooth. Cook the bacon in a skillet until some of the fat is released, then add the sliced onion and cook 2 or 3 minutes until onion is translucent. Distribute the cheese mixture evenly between the rounds of dough and spread it to the edges. Sprinkle the bacon and onions on top. Season with kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste. Bake 12 to 15 minutes, or until crust is golden brown. Serve immediately.

I use cornmeal in the pizza dough I make, which adds an extra bit of crunch to the crust. I also made the dough Christmas morning. Despite all the cooking going on, I had to put the proofing bucket into a pot of warm water in order to push the rise along.

My sister called a few days before Christmas and asked what she could bring for the festivities, and I said, “Oh, I think I have it under control.” And I couldn’t remember a damn thing I was making. I babbled on a little bit and then said, “Well, bring a vegetable plate or something.”

Well, she showed up with a spinach dip. An artichoke dip. A Brie! Plus a platter of vegetables. We had a lovely spread. I said, “We don’t even need dinner.” The guests assured us that yes, in fact, we did. So I went ahead and made it anyhow.

Christmas Eve I made Baltazar’s mushroom soup recipe snagged from The Amateur Gourmet. I doubled the recipe, which was really uncalled for: a single amount off this soup would have been fine for eight adults. But the soup was excellent, filled with lots of rosemary and mushroomy goodness.

And then, for the pièce de résistance: the standing rib roast. Possibly it was a prime rib. Certainly had the cost of a prime rib. Seventeen pounds of deliciousness. Had it been even one inch longer, it would not only not have fit in the large roasting pan, it wouldn’t have fit in my oven. We followed the directions from Roasting by Barbara Kafka, but despite leaving the roast out for two hours it was nowhere near room temperature when it went into the oven.

Kafka said to aim for a 135F reading from the instant-read thermometer — it came out medium rare instead of deeply red, the way I prefer it. So in the future, take the meat out at 125F and let it rest.

Still, even medium rare the meat was utterly delicious, particularly with the horseradish cream sauce. And the creamed spinach (in the cream sauce). And the potatoes in the chicken stock and butter. And the eggy, delicious popovers. Oh yes. Popovers. Yum.

For dessert I turned to the experts: Pascal Janvier, amazing pastry chef. I bought a Belle Hélène chocolate-pear Bûche de Noël, and it was every single bit as amazing as you would expect. I thought about ordering a Tarte Normande, which is Janvier’s specialty, but I’m glad I didn’t: according to Darin, who went on Christmas Eve to pick up the Bûche, there weren’t enough Tartes for the number ordered, and a riot was near to breaking out. Janvier’s work is that good.

Next year I’ll make my own Yule log. No, really.

Anyhow: the dinner turned out fabulous.

Pimp My Nutcracker (from La Maitresse).

(The full report on Xmas festivities is coming soon. I just have to download the pix. Also, I have to go do a workout before I do anything else. I can feel my arteries clogging from yesterday. Oy.)

“‘Why did the twenty-five-foot tall gorilla climb the building?’ ‘You had me at twenty-five-foot tall gorilla.’” — Darin, in the car last night coming home from the movie.

Oh, what a disappointment King Kong was. I don’t know what cut of the movie all these raving reviewers have seen, but could it possibly have been this three-hour-and-fifteen minute extravaganza?

Let me sum up this movie in two words: slow motion.

There are lots and lots (and lots) of scenes in this movie where the film literally goes to slow motion, and does so to no apparent end that I could figure out. Slow motion film always reminds me of shows like “A Current Affair,” where they put the footage of the alleged perp in slow motion not only to make him seem more sinister, but because they just don’t have that much footage of him to begin with and need to stretch it out.

But the movie itself also unfolds at a slow motion pace. Director Peter Jackson is going to do everything in depth here: when you have a $200m. budget, fleshing out not one, not two, but possibly seven or eight different vignettes on How Bad The Depression Is seems like a good idea. Or, as I said to Darin, “Did you catch that Naomi Watts was in vaudeville? Don’t worry, because you’ll have six more opportunities to get up to speed on that.”

It’s an hour before we get to Skull Island, and it’s another hour before Kong gets to New York. (I’m not exactly sure of those numbers, actually, because Act 3 in this pic — Kong in NYC — moves at an ungodly, and illogical, speed. Suddenly Kong is on stage in New York — and Jack-the-playwright’s new play is opening the same night! With uh, what: the world’s shortest rehearsal time ever?) When the movie is on Skull Island — one gigantic action scene — the problems just keep piling up: we have brutal savages, giant gorillas, T-Rexes, and a humongous collection of the world’s most ravenous man-sized insects. (I couldn’t even play the insect part of World of Warcraft. I had my eyes closed for the insect bits of this movie.) When Adrien Brody and Naomi Watts fell into a river during their escape, I actually expected another detour with sharks or something.

My general reaction to the frenetic, well-produced goings-on is: Who cares? Yes, there’s lots happening, but I wasn’t particularly invested in any of it. Possibly the problem is how damn long the movie goes on for: maybe if it had been “People go to island, people find Kong, people bring him to NYC to a coldwater five-story walkup, then shoot him off tall building when he looks for a Rm W Vu” it might have meant more. But the movie never sells me on the grand tragedy of this giant gorilla who connects with a blonde chick and then falls off the Empire State Building. I mean, what: were they going to get married or something? Nope, sorry, not feeling it. Mostly wanted the movie over.

Jack Black, as the movie producer who finds and exploits Kong, has one mode, one facial expression in this movie. Naomi Watts has pretty much just one of each too: one more closeup of her looking searchingly at (insert one: Kong, love interest Adrien Brody, mates from vaudeville act) and I was going to scream. The special effects are amazing — my comment was, “It’s great how you’re actively watching a scene that has no element that ever existed in real life” — and if you’re interested in seeing this movie, see it in the theater.

But see it soon. I can’t imagine King Kong is going to be around for long. The theater we went to last night was mostly empty.

Via Firedoglake, Media Matters has a wonderful bit up about our wonderfully unbiased press:

In a November 13 column, Washington Post ombudsman Deborah Howell addressed reader requests for the Post to conduct its own polls to measure public support for impeachment:

First, there was a swarm to me and to Post Polling Editor Richard Morin asking that The Post do a poll on whether President Bush should be impeached. Whoa. Since we get mail all the time saying that we are biased against Bush or are in his back pocket, why would The Post want to do that? The question many demanded that The Post ask is biased and would produce a misleading result, Morin said; he added that the campaign was started by Democrats.com.

But Howell’s defense doesn’t ring true. Her reference to complaints that the Post is “biased against Bush or are in his back pocket” is simply an irrelevant dodge; it has nothing to do with the question. It’s simply the same tired and lazy strategy that news organizations often fall back on in the face of criticism: saying, essentially: hey, both sides complain, so we must be doing everything right.

Further, Howell didn’t explain how “the question many demanded the Post ask is biased,” she just asserted it (attributing the assertion to Morin). But how would it be biased? Surely it must be possible to design a poll question to measure the public’s support for impeachment that isn’t “biased.” After all, the Post did it repeatedly when there was a Democratic president.

For example, A January 1998 Post poll conducted just days after the first revelations of Clinton’s relationship with Monica Lewinsky asked the following questions:

“If this affair did happen and if Clinton did not resign, is this something for which Clinton should be impeached, or not?”

“There are also allegations that Clinton himself lied by testifying under oath that he did not have an affair with the woman. If Clinton lied in this way, would you want him to remain in office as president, or would you want him to resign the presidency?”

“If Clinton lied by testifying under oath that he did not have an affair with the woman, and he did not resign, is this something for which Clinton should be impeached, or not?”

Morin was the Post’s polling director at the time, and he wrote the January 26, 1998, article reporting the poll results.

By the way, if you’re not reaading the incredibly valuable Firedoglake (the only blog I check more often than my RSS feed allows), you are missing out. It is the sine qua non for explaining all things Fitzmas — seriously, the ins and outs of what Judy and Scooter and Karl and Woody have been up to have been parsed and translated for the lay reader in a way that’s utterly beautiful… and it takes the mainstream media a couple of days or even weeks to crib from them and put sort-of explanations in the papers.

Woke up this morning, got the kids dressed and ready, and headed directly to the mall. Getting there at 9 was a good idea: we found a parking space easily, there was no one in Target, and I knew precisely what I was there for so we could get in and out. Although we were in the mall long enough to let the kids play in the Kids Area and get lunch at The Cheesecake Factory.

I still have a few things to get, mainly for my three-year-old nephew. You’d think I’d have a handle on what three-year-old boys need and/or want. You would be totally wrong. I’m thinking I’m going to need to hit Gap Kids early in the morning. Remember how when we were kids we hated getting the clothes presents? As a parent, I love the clothes presents. It makes life so much easier.

The main thing I’m working on now is the shopping list for this weekend’s festivities. I think I’m going to have to pick up a large ice chest to hold drinks, so I have more room in the fridge. Of course, I was at Target today; did that occur to me? It did not. Sigh.

I don’t know how the shopping season is going this year; the mall never felt particularly crowded. Not much in the way of lines, except for the cars that piled up to get our parking space.

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This year we have a tree. A gigantic noble fir, about six and a half or seven feet tall. Sophia picked it out; she was also the driving force behind getting a tree. We haven’t decorated it yet. I bought some boxes of generic ornaments and some tinsel. I’ve told the kids they can get one special ornament each; if we do that every year, after a few years we’ll have a decent selection of ornaments.

I asked around for info on how to tell if you’re buying a decent tree. Here’s what I heard: check to make sure the trunk has sticky resin on it and that the needles bend but don’t break. Plus, make sure the tree places cuts a part off of the trunk to expose it to the water in the tree stand, and refill the tree stand every day.

Why didn’t I know how to pick out a tree? My parents always got the tree on Christmas Eve. Perhaps this was some kind of tradition, but most likely it was because trees are really cheap by then. At least, that’s what we did after we moved to San Francisco. In Connecticut we had a fake tree that we put together every year, each branch color-coded with a tie my mother had attached to it.

But now I have a big-assed real tree with a sticky trunk in my living room. All I have to do now is dress it.

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Hey, Happy Holidays to me! I won an iPod Nano! From Blue-Tec Software, makers of the Ulysses text editor, as part of their Nanos for NaNo(WriMo) contest. Woo hoo! This is completely unexpected — in fact, I’d forgotten I’d entered.

Ah, poor iPod Shuffle, I hardly knew ye… although I used you for my workouts all the time.

And now I have to get 2 gigs of workout music. I have lots of music, but not so much of it the stuff you need for workouts. Amazon, here I come!

Darin: “Honey, you realize with the Nano all of your money goes toward the accessories. The armband, the case…”

In our continuing quest to keep up with the running, Rob, Nina, and I did the Pfleger Estate Trail Run two weeks ago and the Muir Beach Trail Run yesterday. The two runs couldn’t have been more different: the Pfleger Estate had gently rising hills and generally even terrain. Oh yes, and beautiful weather.

When I showed up at Rob’s house for the Muir Beach run, he said, “Is that all you’re wearing?”

What did that mean? I had on a long-sleeved running shirt and my running tights. Sure, it was nippy out, but it was 6:30 in the morning. It would warm up by game time, it always did, right?

Except we weren’t running in Cupertino. We were running near the Pacific Ocean. In winter, this area is best described by the terms “windy” and “cold.”

When we got to Muir Beach, none of us wanted to get out of the car. The wind was blowing fiercely. The lady in front of me at the porta-potties said her car reported it was 45 degrees. “I think your car lied,” I said through chattering teeth. It probably was 45 degrees, with a significant wind chill factor.

“It’ll be warmer when we start running,” Rob said.

“I hope you’re right.”

And it was, especially since the first kilometer or so out of the gate was straight up. On the second rise I had to wave Rob and Nina to go on without me, because I was having the damnedest time breathing. That’s the thing that’s killing me when I go running with them: I can keep up well enough on the flats, and I go downhill a great deal faster than they do (possibly because I have gravity working in my favor, but I think it’s just because I’m stupidly fearless), but I just die on the uphills. When I stop breathing at all well, I know my heart rate is at 165, which is the top of my range.

What can I do to increase my aerobic capacity? Do deep breathing exercises? Just get into better shape? Lots of hill drills? This is killing me.

There was an aid station just before the 7 km mark. Usually the shortest runs don’t have an aid station, but I guess all the runs went through this point. The aid station was to soften us up before the last hill, which went a mile straight up, with the rain that started and more wind, before we tore down the hill to the finish, where we enjoyed soup and gummi bears. I wasn’t particularly hungry, I just needed that soup to warm up my insides. Surprisingly, our consensus was that the rain didn’t bother us (it wasn’t a heavy downpour or anything). The wind had chilled us far more than the rain had.

After we fed our faces for a bit I said, “Coffee?” We all quickly said, Uh-huh, and went off to search for coffee. At Starbucks Nina said, “I hate their coffee! It tastes like bile! Their Americanos are good though.”

“I guess we’re getting Americanos,” Rob said.

“I don’t want anything that tastes like bile, that’s for sure,” I said.

And she was right: the Americano is much better than a standard cup of Starbucks’ drip, so I’m sold.

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The Angel Island Trail Run is in January! Anyone up for a wonderful run should sign up now!