Scones at Stardust

I’ve made scones for Stardust a couple times now during my Saturday baking stints.  I’ve made them with blueberries, but this weekend I’m looking to switch it up a bit by using raspberries instead.  Since they’re easy to make and don’t require a lot of ingredients, I can usually get these in the oven within my first hour at the ‘Dust.

The recipe I use is, no surprise, based on one for Cranberry Scones on MarthaStewart.com.  I had originally used cranberries when they were freshly sold in stores last November and December, when the recipe came out in an Everyday Food publication.  Everyday Food is probably my favourite pick from the ominous-sounding Martha Stewart Omnimedia, due to its small, compact size and “normal-people-friendly” recipes.  Good stuff for budding home cooks and bakers, with convenient time estimates to give you an idea of how long it takes to prep and cook the food.

With regards to making the scones, I don’t use a floured surface to work on the dough, as it calls for in the recipe.  I find that working with the dough on a flat surface covered with parchment paper seems to work just fine, rather than using more flour.  Also, the original recipe calls for half-and-half, which I use at Stardust, but when making the scones at home, I use what I normally have on hand: almond milk.  Since I don’t drink milk and only have a cup of coffee maybe once a week, I don’t have whole milk or half-and-half in my fridge.  Almond milk seems to be a fine substitute.

Anyway, feel free to experiment with your own scone making, or come over to Stardust to sample one of mine.  I’ll be there this Saturday, but starting next week, I may be working Sundays at the ‘Dust because of overtime at the Library.  Scones are best eaten the day they’re made, although the day after normally sees them in an okay state, just a bit more moist than before.

A Food Lover’s Book of Days/Dining Alone

I’m on the cusp of completing my intermittent reading of James and Kay Salter’s book, Life Is Meals: A Food Lover’s Book of Days.  It’s a great collection of food trivia, tips, recommendations and personal anecdotes and recollections organised in a cozy package.  I checked out my copy from the Orange County Library, but it’s a nice little book to buy for your favourite food lover.

In the book, I particularly enjoyed becoming acquainted with the great stars of food history and gastronomy: Sylvester Graham, A J Liebling, Juliette Recamier, and Brillat-Savarin to name a few.  

I also liked the comments the Salters gave on “Solitary Dinners,” which I found interesting having had a few solitary dinners at home and out in the public.  Of the latter, I can find them at times pleasurable or awkward, depending on the eatery.  If I eat out alone, I prefer bringing along a book as company.  When I was in school, I would often read textbooks and highlight passages in-between bites, or I would work on a short story idea prior to my food arriving.  There have been a couple of rough, handwritten drafts of short stories and Japanese homework bearing the mark of the vinaigrette concoction from Stardust.

Nowadays, since I fix food more at home and am saving money for one thing or another, I don’t eat out alone as often.  In fact, perhaps the last time I did so recently was at Bikes, Beans & Bordeaux a few weeks ago. It’s a rarity now because money is so tight, so I don’t feel like indulging as much as I used to.  But, it seems, the best places to dine alone–at least in Orlando, but perhaps in general–are cafes and teahouses such as Stardust, Infusion, B3 and Pom-Pom’s.  Perhaps because the atmosphere is informal, you’re allowed the extra time to lounge and have an extra cup of coffee or tea, bottle of beer or glass of wine.  Taking out a book or opening up your laptop is accepted, unlike a “proper” restaurant, or even some diners.

Eating alone at home can be different as well, not so much in what you’re eating, but how you’re eating it.  It’s one thing to make a peanut butter and jam sandwich on a paper towel and eat it standing up over the counter, whereas eating the same sandwich off a plate at a dining table or even your coffee table with a nice cup of Earl Grey elevates it to a little ceremony.  As I’ve gotten older, I’ve found these little ceremonies enjoyable, and seem more fulfilling when the food is on a plate.  Granted, my dishes pile up a bit more with all the plates and mugs and tea strainers, but there’s a sense of giving the soul a little something to feed on as well as the stomach.  It’s a happy thing that makes simple meals that much more special, even more so when you don’t always have the time to eat in such a way.  Even take-out seems better out of the styrofoam and paper containers and on a real plate with real silverware, or even the plastic IKEA reusable utensils.  Yes, leftover pizza deserves a bit of dignity at times.  Because, excepting the street food sold in stalls and push-carts around the world–as some of the best food can be found with these vendors, if the food isn’t worth taking a moment and eating on a plate, is it really worth eating?

Stardust’s Saturday baker

Attention stalkers!  As of yesterday, I have been installed as Stardust’s Saturday baker, and my first day and my new little gig was good fun.  I made a batch of whole wheat buttermilk biscuits, a vegan cinnamon-raspberry cake and a “bothersome” molasses cake with “tiresome” tangy vanilla frosting.  The last piece was a debacle, because parts of the cake stuck to the tip of the Bundt pan, and to salvage the damn thing, I decided to use some frosting to cover up the mistake.  Well, the kitchen by this point was rather warm, especially with the wonderful addition of Tony (who literally jumped up and down and screamed “Yaaaaay!” upon seeing me in the back), one of Stardust’s cadre of cooks.  The kitchen was so warm, with the oven being on, the icing kept melting off of the damn cake.  I had to stick the cake *and* the icing in the beer fridge up front to keep it solidified.

So what was supposed to be an 8 am ’til 12 noon shift turned into me staying until 2 pm, with Tony and Casey, the regular baker who was working the front, battling with my inner Martha, who was going, “It’s not PERFECT!  AAAH!!”

The cake’s fuck-ups did enable me to kind of lose my mind in the kitchen, much to Tony’s amusement, and perhaps encouragement.  When I was making the frosting for the cake in a bowl, I looked down at the creamy-sweet goodness and remarked to him how I wanted to stick my face in the frosting.  “Do it,” he said, “and run around the building yelling ‘FROSTING FAAACE!’”

So, of course, we kept screaming “FROSTING FAAACE!” in the kitchen for the next two hours or so I was there.

As you can see, despite that damn debacle of a cake (that looked to have sold well later that night), I had good fun.  I’m excited to go back next Saturday.  I’m planning on scones and cupcakes this time around.  In the meantime, I hope to make some things at my new place in order to get in a bit of practice time, and to try some new recipes out.

By the way, Tony has dubbed me as the Butter Assassin, and from here on out, I’m going to use and abuse that new moniker as much as possible.  So, next Saturday, come over to Stardust from 8 am until noon (hopefully not longer… again), where you can see me puttering about in the mushroom apron my friend Melanie bought for me as a Christmas gift one year.  All the recipes I used were based on my well-worn copy of Abigail Johnson Dodge’s book, The Weeekend Baker, which is a rather apt title considering my new job–providing I can keep it.

FROSTING FAAAACE!!

Hamburger America: the book AND dvd!

I pestered my local library to start carrying Hamburger America, the book, and they got a copy, which I have now checked out. When I took a look at the cover, there’s a sticker the library put on that says “1 disc included.” Do you know what that disc was?

That’s right, Hamburger America, the movie!

So, you realise I have to share the film with as many people as possible, yeah? I’ve already made my parents watch it, and I thought my father was going to have a heart attack merely watching Solly’s butterburgers being made. “Oh my God, that’s BUTTER?!” he freaks while watching a woman slab on a hefty dollop of butter onto a bun before mushing it down onto a burger.

Potential food rule: Butter makes everything better. This rule may have to be tested out on a butterburger of my own with a veggie patty. Yes, I’m game enough, but I don’t know if I’d want quite as much butter as Solly’s Grille tops theirs with. Seriously, the camera zooms in on these burgers, and you can see the golden liquid dripping on the sides! The film even shows a patron sopping up some of the butter with half of his burger. It should also be mentioned Solly’s Grille is right across the street from a medical center treating heart diseases. Surprisingly, though, the owner of Solly’s Grille mentions two men in their 90s who’d been coming to Solly’s Grill for decades, and seem to be doing just fine.

Potential food theory: Butter makes you live longer.

I can imagine cardiologists cringing at the thought of a butterburger, but I’ll bet a few of those people that work at the nearby heart care center make dashes across the street to get their butterburger fixes.

Eventually, I’ll have to break down and buy this book, so I can have the book and dvd on hand for future reference and edification, as well as to share it with people who aren’t yet my friends, but someday will be (aw!). Yesterday I began reading the book, and currently I’m in the Louisiana section, where Port of Call in New Orleans is listed. There is only one place listed in Florida, Le Tub of Hollywood. In America, it seems the best states for burgers, according to George Motz, are California (9 entries), Oklahoma (7 entries), Ohio (6 entries), Connecticut (5 entries) and Texas (8 entries).

If you want to know more about Hamburger America or George Motz, the brainchild behind the projects, go to the website: HamburgerAmerica.com. Motz has a blog where you can catch up on what’s current–at the moment, the most recent entry is on the book tour he’s doing. If you live in Orange County in Florida, you’ll be happy to know that the Orange County Library System has two copies of Hamburger America, both of which are currently checked out–one by yours truly. Don’t worry, I’ll be returning mine shortly once I’ve finished reading it and have made a few of my friends watch the dvd. If you can’t wait, though, you can buy it online through Shop OCLS, with Amazon.com, or get a used copy with Abebooks.

Damn you, tiny print!

So, I don’t have the best vision in the world.  I grew up as the girl with the thick glasses, which were passed around in class from kid to kid during free time.  The kid would put my glasses on, and inevitably exclaim something along the lines of “Whoa!  You’re really BLIND!!” as they struggle to make out the laughing face of the next kid who wanted to try the lenses on.

By the time I had gotten into high school, I had begged to get contacts, and, at 14, I started wearing them, thinking that ditching the glasses would mean a one-way ticket to Cool Town.  Well, it didn’t, but I still wear contacts for the most part, and most people wouldn’t have really considered me to have a glasses-wearing past unless I tell them, “Yeah, past a couple of inches beyond my face–can’t see a thing.”

And lately, I’ve been concerned my vision is taking a turn for the worst.  My main culprit for the decline in my vision is the fact I stare at a computer screen for two or more hours pretty much consecutively at a time for work.  While driving and looking for street names, my companion in the seat next to me seems to point out the signs before I do.  Unless it’s Clark without his glasses, and for a moment, I feel a bit better about myself, until I put it into perspective: He’s not wearing contacts, but I am.

*sigh*

Just now, in an effort to make a new recipe called “Chocolate Spice Cookies,” I was at a point where something didn’t seem right.  Sure enough, taking a squintier look at the book, I realise the minuscule fraction next to the “1″ and before the word “cups” was not, as I had thought, 1/2, but 1/4.

Damn it.

So, to fix, or at least lessen, my error, I added a bit more butter, more honey (though the recipe called for maple syrup–I cheated) and more cocoa.  The recipe says to “refrigerate until firm,” but I’m impatient.  Also, I’ve already not followed the directions, so I likely won’t be rolling the dough out, as it wants me to, onto floured plastic sheets or plastic wrap.  My parents are out of plastic wrap, by the way.

This whole event goes to show that: 1) I will likely need a stronger prescription for my next set of contacts; and, 2) I really oughtn’t bake in someone else’s kitchen, like my parents’ kitchen, unless I know I have everything I need, not just what’s on the list of ingredients.

I guess now it’s time to plop this dough on a sheet, bake it, and see what happens.

Where’s your Publix?

I was at a dinner party on Friday evening, and the conversation turned to my current search for a place to rent in the downtown area.  I had mentioned that my future roommate and I were considering locations based on the proximity to a Publix we liked.

“College Park’s out, because we both hate the College Park Publix,” I explained, “and Clark doesn’t like Gay Asian Publix that much, so we’re looking at North Colonialtown so we can go to the Publix on 17-92 near the Krispy Kreme.”

This sparked a flurry of discussion as to where the best Publixes were, which was interesting.  Clark would be happy to know that he isn’t the only one who doesn’t like Gay Asian Publix–his dislike, by the way, is best summed up in a trip to that Publix and discovered they were out of waxed dental floss.  “They’re always out of everything!” he attests, and at least a couple of last night’s dinner attendees would agree.  I personally have been unable to locate GoodSense’s dried cranberries and apples there on repeated trips.  Interestingly, when I went with my mother to the Publix in Oviedo this evening, they had the elusive bag of dried fruit.

Sarah and Robert recently moved to a new area, and at the moment, there isn’t a Publix that’s terribly convenient for them to go to aside from the despised Shine Publix (aka Gay Asian or, with some, “Gaysian”).  They recently joined the unfortunately-named BJ’s, which is a bulk goods store that also sells groceries, so they tend to go there, with occasional trips to the larger Publix on Orange and Michigan, south of Downtown.  I used to shop at that Publix frequently when I used to live with my ex-boyfriend Brent and our roommate, Shawn, on Briercliff.  When I moved to South Colonialtown, I bitched about Gay Asian Publix, but after a while, I loved it, because it didn’t have some things I tended to waste money on, but yet it had all the essentials I needed.

Then I moved to the fringes of College Park and became perpetually aghast at the lack of certain staples.  I recall one event when my friend Mike and I went into the Publix, since he needed to pick up some things, and we walked right back out because that particular Publix didn’t carry Worthington Loma Linda Vegan Big Franks, a staple for the vegan who doesn’t like vegetables, like Mike.

By the way, the Oviedo Publix doesn’t carry, from what I could tell, the Loma Linda Big Franks, as I was looking for them this evening.  Oviedo Publix: +1 for the Goodsense Cranberries & Apples, -1 for no Big Franks.

As the conversation yesterday wore on, Alexis revealed a “dark horse” Publix that wasn’t even considered by either Clark or myself in our rental hunt: the Baldwin Park Publix.  “Ohhh,” we collectively pondered as we thought about the Baldwin Park Publix.  “It’s great!  It’s never crowded, it has everything!” Alexis evangelised.  I believe Erin countered with, “I can never figure out how to get into that Publix!” but no one else had gone to the Baldwin Park Publix, mostly because it’s in Baldwin Park, and no one really goes into Baldwin Park unless they live in Baldwin Park, at least no one I know.  I began to ponder what other secrets Baldwin Park might hold… I hear there’s a Mexican restaurant in there somewhere.

As far as I know, everyone I know shops at Publix unless it’s late in the evening and Albertson’s is the closest and/or only choice, or they go to a bulk goods place, like BJ’s or Costco.  So, when we talked about which Publixes we liked and found ourselves going to, and which ones we felt “never have anything,” it not only showed which neighbourhoods we roamed in, but also indicated what we individually felt were essential for a Publix to have.  Like Mike’s Loma Linda Vegan Big Franks, I have my own necessities that I feel every Publix, or at least the ones I go to, should carry.  Here’s a sample of some of my essentials:

1. bagged salad greens, Earthbound Farms or Greenwise brand
2. big bags of organic flour (all Publixes seem to no longer carry the larger bags of the Gold Medal Organic flour many of them were carrying, so I go to Whole Foods now for this)
3. organic bananas
4. organic lemon juice
5. a good selection of Wolfgang Puck soup, my favourites being Corn Chowder, Old-Fashioned Potato and Tortilla
6. Martin’s Famous potato bread in its various forms
7. Almond Breeze almond milk
8. Ghirardelli chocolate chips
9. Apple & Eve juices
10. Florida Crystals natural sugars

This list might not be complete, as I’m trying to envision what I used to buy when I used to do more grocery shopping, so I’m a bit forgetful.  Living with my parents, I don’t do much cooking here, so I don’t spend much on groceries.

If Clark and I move in the North Colonialtown area, we can try out the Baldwin Park Publix to see if it’s to our tastes.  If not, there’s always the Krispy Kreme Publix that carries Sioux City Birch Beer and has their Greenwise section right up front, which I absolutely love, or Gay Asian for quick runs for goods… but apparently not waxed dental floss.

South Colonialtown also has Gay Asian Publix, but also the Michigan/Orange Publix, aka the Delaney Park Publix, since that’s where you shop if you live in Delaney Park.  Apparently, the Delaney Park Publix has put in an olive bar near the deli area, which is awesome providing the bar is too high for dirty-fingered children to poke around in, although there are some dirty-fingered adults to consider as well.  Also, there’s going to be another Publix that will eventually open right in Downtown on Central, which should prove interesting.  I’m a little afraid that the Publix may try to cater to a perception of “downtown clientele,” like the now-defunct Central City Market did.  Central City Market generally carried swank wines and cheeses, as well as accompanying crackers, some pasta ingredients, beer and bottled water.  Not much else.  Eventually it turned into more of a restaurant that happened to have a few deli and grocery items… and now it’s a seafood restaurant.  Hopefully this Publix won’t try to be some hip urban Publix, but a functioning one that stays open until 10 pm and can handle what will surely be an insane crowd around lunchtime for sub sandwiches.

In the meantime, Clark and I have to stake our claim for a duplex or apartment, which will then determine our Publix options, among other things.