Sarah Bon’s Photography, and my moment as Das Modell

My friend and local uber-talent Sarah Bon will be having an art opening on Friday, the 18th of July, at AKA Lounge.  The event is hosted by local music maven DJ Smilin’ Dan, who has dubbed it “Substance 2,” which leads me to expect at least a couple of New Order tracks to be played during the night.

Sarah took some photos of me at work at Stardust, making blueberry scones (as I was burning banana cupcakes in the oven), and she also grabbed me and a handful of her other friends to be used as models for her more portrait-based photography.  I made the joke that all of us would have some kick-ass photos for Last.fm, Facebook, Goodreads and other social sites soon.  I haven’t seen any of the photographs, although I hear my friend Melanie got a sneak peek at some (cheater), so I will be just as surprised as anyone else as to how they turned out.  I’m extra curious as to how the baking ones turned out, as I bought a whole new smock-like apron for the event.  Truly, it was just an excuse for me to get another apron.  I love aprons.

The flyer features one of Sarah’s friends I don’t know too well, but I do remember her being pretty cool when I met her at Sarah and Robert’s place a couple Sundays ago, along with two sisters, and the three of them seemed nice.  The photo looks very rock n’ roll with the eyeliner and the screenprinted gun shirt.

So, if you’ve got seven bucks in your pocket, wallet, sock or brassiere, come down to AKA Lounge on Pine Street downtown and have a gander at some photography, check out some live music, have some beer or other bevvies, and hang out.  I’m not familiar with the bands who will be performing, but I’m sure it will be good times, as good people–my friends–will be in attendance.

But I make no guarantees.

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?

All Quiet on the Tasty Front

So yeah, I haven’t been updating this as much as I normally do, but I’m currently in the process of getting internet connection at my new place in the North Colonialtown area of downtown Orlando.  Once I have internet set up, I’ll be able to update my blog a bit more, especially with recipes of things that I’ve made for Stardust on Saturdays.

Don’t worry–this blog isn’t an abandoned project by any means!  I imagine my one reader out there in InternetLand is relieved.

Drinking within stumbling distance

On Monday night–yes, a Monday night–I walked to The Peacock Room, which is a mere four blocks from my place.  It was brilliant to be able to walk through a nice neighbourhood to get a nightcap or three, and then to be able to walk home.

My mega-friends Marie and Mike will be moving in spitting-distance from my abode this weekend, and Clark shall finally be my official roommate next week.  I forsee many stumbles to the fantastic Peacock Room in the future.

But next time, if I go on a Monday night, I’ll need to get home at a decent hour so I won’t be so wrecked Tuesday morning.

It’s COOKIE PORN!

Because I am a poor little thing, instead of buying the book, I waited patiently for the library to begin carrying Martha Stewart’s Cookies.  And today, oh glorious day, the library got it in, and I have a copy of the book in my hot little hands.

I had a look through most of the book, though I tapered off towards the end in favour of an afternoon nap. Still, I’ve busted out my sticky-tabs to note what cookies I can make with what ingredients I currently have (or think I have) at my parents’ house.  Once my mother’s finished at the stove, I think I’ll try my hand at making a batch of snickerdoodles, assuming it isn’t too late in the evening for baking.

The photos, as the title of this posting blatantly states, are flat-out cookie porn.  For example, see the cookies on the cover?  Yep, I know what you’re thinking about doing with that dollop of chocolate oozing out of that cookie on the side.  Mm-hmm, do your parents know how filthy your mind is?

Martha Stewart: Cookie-smut peddler.

On the whole, the recipes for the cookies seem easy enough to make and bake, although I bet it would be easier if I had a stand mixer, as seemingly every recipe assumes you have.  Bleh.  One of the original ideas for a blog title was “The Budget Baker,” seeing as how I didn’t really have a stand mixer, and was afraid of my hand mixer for the longest time after my first attempt at using it (I flung sugared butter everywhere).  But, well, I don’t really skimp too much when it comes to ingredients, and the term “budget” might have connotations that I might’ve not intended.  Perhaps “broke-ass” would’ve been a better term.  Certainly not Martha-approved, that’s for sure.  I still have a penchant for mixing batter with forks if I’m not using one of my pastry blenders.  It’s just easier to clean than the hand mixer, which I only break out if I have to get dominatrix-style on some egg whites or something.

I love baking, but I’m not such a big fan of cleaning.

Anyway, beginning Tuesday or Wednesday next week, I should be able to have full reign over my very own kitchen empire!  I can have my ingredients organised the way I want them, and not have to worry about my mother rearranging my stuff so I can’t find it!  There will be a kitchen with a crazy side-opening oven that will be allll miiiiiine!

Well, until my roommate moves in with me.  Actually, now that I think about it, I’m not sure how often Clark cooks.  I know he can grill.  In fact, one of the stipulations of the apartment that we’re moving into was that he had to have a place to grill.  One of our mutual agreements was to make sure the place also came with an oven “big enough to fit a baby in.”  Those were Clark’s words, but I wholly concur.  In other words, no dinky stoves that were absconded from the Barbie Beachouse.

We’re serious.

Tales of excessive utensils

My mother has eight wooden spoons.  For whatever mysterious reason, she has accumulated eight wooden spoons, and they’re all kept in a drawer with a multitude of other utensils, perhaps even another wooden spoon I didn’t count.

I am amazed at the amount of kitchen utensils my mother has managed to collect over the years, and yet, she seems to have only one silicon spatula to flip over pancakes.  Since it’s all kept in a drawer, a bit of a dig is involved to find the right utensil needed–gigantic wooden chopsticks, one of a number of wooden spoons, a wooden spatula or three, a potato-masher, etc.

The new place I’ll be living at has ample drawer space for Clark and I.  I don’t have nearly the number of kitchen items my mother has, but I actually have one or two duplicates of things, if I remember rightly.  Much of my stuff is either sharing space with my parents’ stuff or in boxes, so I can’t remember exactly what I have.  However, I do have a rather excessive amount of pastry blenders, because I used to keep one at my old apartment, and another at the apartment of my former boyfriend, and this keeping of two sets went on with a few other things, like silicon spatulas and mixing bowls.  I gave some of these extras away to my friend Mike when I moved out of the apartment on Lakeview, but not the pastry blender, which then was taken to my parents’ place.  Yesterday, when I took my mother to Michael’s, I got sucked into the display they had for Wilton baking products.  When I walked away, I had a stack of items consisting of measuring cups, a liquid measuring cup, a “baker’s blade” and another damn pastry blender.

I haven’t used the “baker’s blade,” which seems to be a fancy way of saying a bench scraper, nor the new pastry blender, but I’ve used both the measuring cups and the liquid cup today for pancakes and for the failed attempt at thumbprint cookies I’ve made–failed because I squished the cookies when I shouldn’t have, and I don’t think I cooked the jam all the way through so that they’d harden properly when added to the tops of the cookies.  Bah!  In any case, I don’t think I should buy any more utensils until I’ve moved into the new duplex, so that way I can have all my things together and accounted for, and to see what I might need, if anything.  I won’t need wooden spoons, though, as I think I might relieve my mother of the army that she has.