In the past, I’ve looked at bread baking as something that was optional, recreational. I’ve played with the much-lauded No-Knead Bread technique. I’ve baking (and eaten) more loaves of quick, sweetened breads than I care to count. And yet, I’ve never really considered the fact that I could bake the type of bread I like to eat regularly with my own hands and oven.

It’s sort of a strange disconnect, but truly, I had it in my head that baking bread that required kneading and making it at all healthy was impossible. So I played with frivolous breads, all the while, buying my favorite whole wheat sandwich and toasting bread at Trader Joe’s.

Yesterday, I woke up to a snowstorm and a work voicemail saying that the office was closed. With an unexcepted free day and kitchen almost entirely devoid of bread, I decided to see if I could make something similar to my favorite toasting bread. Looking around for a recipe, I settled on this one from The Frugal Girl, which she has adapted from a Cook’s Illustrated recipe.

And now, I have no idea what was preventing me from doing this. It was incredibly easy (granted, I’m pretty comfortable with yeast, so take this “incredibly easy” rating with a grain of experiential salt). I mixed the dough in my Kitchen-Aid and hand-kneaded for about ten minutes. The dough was pretty sticky, but with the help of the bench scrapper and some extra flour for dusting, it kneaded into a supple, stretchy ball quickly.

In recent days, I’ve been trying to buy less and make more through canning, making my own yogurt and generally cooking more from scratch (I’ve gotten pretty adept at pizza in recent days). I do this in part because I want to have more control what’s in my food and also because I’ve been trying to reduce the amount of packaging I consume. Scott thinks that I sometimes take this to an extreme (like when I take a plastic container to a restaurant when I know we’re going to have leftovers), but mostly, he goes along with it.

I’m hoping to make this utilitarian bread part of my homemade, no packaging effort!

I’m about ten days later than I intended to be in posting this video, but better late than never, right? This is the episode that we shot during our Berks County Wine Trail visit back in January. It was a really great trip and one I highly recommend to anyone in the Philadelphia region who’s looking for an easy weekend getaway. And you never know, you might find a giant stash of second-hand jars (as we all know, that never fails to make my day).

Last weekend (not this very snowy one just past, but the one before that), Scott and I piled into our 18 year old Subaru and took off for Reading, PA, and spent a couple of days exploring several of the stops along the Berks County Wine Trail (and in the process, filming an episode of Fork You). Up until recently, I’d not been particularly familiar with the concept of wine trails, but having spent a little time on one, I’m a fan. It’s a fun and visitor-friendly way to explore a region of the state and sip a very broad spectrum of wine.

Neither Scott nor I are huge wine drinkers. I like a glass now and then, and when around the right people, (I’m looking at you, David Snyder) I can really get into the ceremony of swirling, sniffing and thinking about the diversity of flavors in each sip. While he does appreciate a glass of bubbly, Scott is even less interested in wine than I am. And yet, we had a really great time on this trip, visiting the wineries and trying a tons of different wines. It’s nice to know that one doesn’t have to be an established vinophile to enjoy a wine trail weekend.

Our first stop was the Clover Hill Winery shop at the Boscov’s Fairground Farmers’ Market in Reading (what a great indoor farmers’ market it was too! It reminded me a lot of Lancaster’s Central Market). A very sweet and engaging woman named Deb poured us tastes of six different wines and generally made the experience a complete delight (and made us feel completely comfortable with the fact that we were drinking wine before 11 a.m.). My favorite was the Chambourcin (I’m a sucker for a dry red), while Scott (and his sweet tooth) found their Strawberry and Pear wine to be right up his alley.

Oh, and the picture you see up there of those smokey cheesers? Those little guys are delicious (and deadly, as they’re all butter, cheese and sausage, bound together with a bit of dough).

Soon enough, it was time to say good-bye to our new friend Deb and head to Manatawny Creek Winery in Douglassville. There, we were greeted by Darvin Levengood, who spent more than an hour with us, teaching me how to say Gewurztraminer, sharing some of his favorite wines (all made by his daughter Joanne, an accomplished winemaker who studied at the UC Davis wine program) and giving us a tour of their fermentation and bottling area.

It was here that we learned the basics of wine sales, as well as the fact that the state of Pennsylvania taxes alcohol differently from the Federal government, making for complex bookkeeping for winemakers (sounds like a line of work I’ll be staying far, far away from). We also got a brief tutorial on the process of removing the yeast particles from sparkling wine after it has done it’s bubble-making work. It was fascinating.

When we left Manatawny with plans to visit a third winery on Saturday afternoon. However, when we started the car back up after lunch (really good burgers at Union Jack’s Inn), something was wrong. It had developed a throaty rumble, akin to a souped up hot rod. We called Blair Winery (our third stop of the day) and told them we weren’t going to be able to make it. Missy Blair, our contact there, was really flexible about the whole thing and told us not to worry.

Sunday morning, we checked out of our room at the Reading Crowne Plaza (a terrific hotel with an indoor pool, comedy club and jazz nightspot), climbed back into the car (patched and road-ready thanks to Perry at the Reading Pep Boys) and headed off to Long Trout Winery in Auburn, PA. Long Trout is a hoot. As you can see from the picture above, their tasting room is totally wacky, every corner bedazzled by sixties rock and pop culture ephemera.

The wines are also different from anything I’ve ever tried before. We came home with a bottle of strawberry and milk chocolate wine, called Instant “O.” Other really intriguing ones included a vegetal Old One Eye and the Sour Cherriola. If you are in the Auburn area and appreciate a hippie culture and the work of a highly creative winemaker, I recommend stopping here.

Next was Pinnacle Ridge Winery, in Kutztown (we did take a brief detour in order to visit the Hamburg, PA Cabela’s. That place is a circus). This light-filled tasting room was a welcome relief from the chilly day and we were particularly delighted by the friendly grey cat who trotted up to greet us.

Of all the wineries we visited on this trip, Pinnacle Ridge was my favorite. I think that’s mostly because it was the most familiar. It had a look and feel of some of the wineries I used to visit when I was in college in Walla Walla. Additionally, their wine was amazing. We were particularly blown away by their ice wine. Amazing stuff!

Our last stop was Blair Vineyards. We were originally scheduled to visit them on Saturday, but postponed after our car trouble. Happily, they were incredibly flexible and made room for us to stop by late Sunday afternoon. It’s a long, curvy drive up to their tasting room and production facility, but totally worth it. This family-owned and operated winery is one to watch (and I’m saving the bottle of Pinot Gris we bought from them for something special).

And that was our weekend. I was really delighted to discover so many terrific wines being produced within an hour and a half from home. I’m really looking forward to finding out more about Pennsylvania wines!

To see more photos from the weekend, click here.

Despite the fact that I grew up on the west coast, my childhood summers were spent mostly in Philadelphia (if you’ve been reading this here blog for a while, you know this). My mom, sister and I would pile in my grandparents’ apartment and spend three or four weeks eating out, going to the Jersey shore and doing our back-to-school shopping (financed by grandparental generosity).

One of the stores I always looked forward to visiting on these shopping treks was Levinthal’s. Located just a block from the apartment, we simply called it the handbag store. I rarely left Philly without some new item from them (and throughout the rest of the year, my grandmother regularly patronized their designer counter).

In the eight years I’ve lived in Philly, I’ve stopped in at least once a month and nearly every purse, wallet or suitcase I’ve acquired over that time was from Levinthal’s. The shopping experience there was an old-fashioned one. There were always two blue-smocked women who would help you as you shopped. When you made your selection, they’d write out a bill of sale on a carbon-paper pad in pencil and walk you up to the cash register, where one of the male owners would ring up your purchase. I imagine that the experience of shopping there was unchanged from the time the store opened in the mid-forties.

Two weeks ago, I walked by and caught sight of their going-out-of-business signs. I went in to peruse the heavily discounted merchandise and have one final wander around this beloved store. I didn’t buy anything, but before I left, I stopped briefly to offer condolences to one of the owners. I tried to express how much the store had meant to me, without monopolizing his time or sounding like a crazy person.

I’ve been trying to acquire fewer things, so there’s less need in my life for a dedicated bag store. However, I will always be sad that Levinthal’s isn’t in the world any longer.

Thankfully, the site launched today, and while my co-workers and I still have a whole lot of work ahead of us, the extended days (as well as the practice of eating all three meals at my desk) seem to be coming to an end. For this, I am grateful, as I’ve come to the realization that as things stand now, I am one of those people who lives for the moment when she can finally leave work and pick up her “real” life. It’s been hard, not having much time to check in with that side of my existence.

Please understand, I have nothing bad to say about my workplace. It is not a perfect environment, but after five jobs and spectrum of bosses, I’ve learned that every place of employment has its own unique quirks, joys and dysfunctions. You learn how to manage the frustrations, appreciate the good stuff and do the things you truly love during the off-hours. And until I figure out how to make those jars and canning pots generate some revenue (beyond lining them up on the sidewalk and asking for a handout), I’m happy to have a job that typically allows plenty of time for those love projects.

If you’d like to see what my department and I have been working so hard on, please click here. I’m hoping you’ll be impressed. Please do recognize that this site is still a work in progress. Some of the sort/search functions aren’t working as we’d like and there’s more work to be done in bulking up content and photography. But all that aside, we’re quite proud.

• Clean out the storage unit. It still holds the carpet remnants from when my grandparents replaced the wall-to-wall when I was seven years old. It must go.
• Deal with the Indian blankets that I found in the hall closet, moth-infested, right after my grandmother died (nearly 8 years ago). They’re in the same plastic bags we threw them into as we prepared the apartment for her memorial luncheon.
• Get that damned undercarriage rattle on my car fixed.
• Replace the broken cart in my dining room.
• Organize recipes for a Fork You cookbook.
• Retile the bathroom and replace the vanity (the drain is badly rusted).
• Mail two boxes of pictures and video tapes to my family in Hawaii (they’re all of them).
• Replace the light fixture in the kitchen.

I think that’s it for now. I’ll be back to this list on occasion, for updates, additions and the blessed satisfaction of crossing things off.

Last week, when I was back in Portland, I spotted the Pony Soldier marquee that you see above. I happened to have camera in hand (I was not the one driving at the time) and so snapped a picture of the message. “A goal not in writing is simply a wish*.” So, in the spirit of dreaming big, declaring to the universe what I want and transforming those wishes into goals, here are the things I’ll be working on and towards in the coming year.

Body and Self

• Take vitamins regularly. I grew up in a vitamin-taking family and so my singular act of rebellion in high school and college was to stop taking vitamins of any sort. I was very vocal in my vitamin rejection, announcing to my parents that they were a waste of time and money. However, over the years, I’ve come to realize that I function better when I add a few vitamins to my system, including daily doses of C and D (sitting in a windowless cubicle for 8-10 hours a day means very little sun exposure for this already pale girl).
• Move more. While I was home in Oregon, my mom and I took a walk along the path in Maywood Park nearly every day. It felt so good to be outside and to be moving. This year, getting my body moving every day, be it a walk outside, a run on the treadmill or even just stretching on my ugly carpet, will be a regular thing.
• Time to wind down at the end of the day. So often, I spend the evening plopped on the couch, staring incoherently at the television until around 11:30, at which point, I leap up to do the dishes and get myself ready for the next day. This means that I climb into bed fifteen or twenty minutes after midnight, with my body revved and my mind racing. It is not conducive to good sleep. I will be getting these tasks of life done earlier, so that I can crawl into bed with a little time to read and get quiet before turning out the light.

Work and Creativity

• Write some books. Since last May, I’ve been working with a publishing company in the hopes of writing a canning cookbook or two. As the Magic 8 Ball might say, I “cannot predict now” whether these particular books will get made. However, I will not be deterred. I will write a canning book. Scott and I will self-publish a Fork You cookbook (we’ve been talking about it for years now, it’s time to finally do it). And, I will work on turning all those essays I wrote for my thesis into something more.
• Make canning videos. Scott and I have been making food video since 2006. It’s time to focus the camera on the canning pot and making some entertaining, useful videos. Because, to be perfectly honest with you all, this is what I want to do. My dream is to have a food show (one with sponsors, investors and advertisers who would make it possible for this to be a full-time gig) that features canning, local foods, u-pick farms, farmers markets, homemade yogurt, home-baked bread and the basics of doing it from scratch while living in the heart of a big city.
• Learn to use Photoshop. Back in the summer, Scott upgraded my camera situation, getting me a Nikon D90 to replace my D50. It takes very nice pictures (and, thanks to the ease and relative cheapness of digital photography, I can keep taking pictures until I get something lovely, straight out of the camera). But often I wish that I knew how to tweak those nice photos into the gorgeously vivid images I see all around the internet. I make minor adjustments in iPhoto, but I can’t do much there.

The Woo-Woo**

• Love more. Myself, my body, my husband, my family and my world.
• Trust more. Everything I’ve ever experienced has shown me that it always works out in the end (typically in ways that I’d never even conceived). And yet, I fret. I’m exhausted by all the worry. It’s time to skip it and just trust.
• Hope more. The world is in transition. The planet is warming, we are inundated by stuff and the waste increases everyday. It would be easy to feel hopeless in the face of all that. However, instead I choose to be hope-filled. I hold the knowledge that this is a time of potential and that all is most certainly not lost.

Happy 2010. May it be so.

*This appears to have been said (with slightly more punctuation) by motivational speaker Mac Anderson. I was sort of hoping that it was the brainchild of some poetic motel desk clerk, but no.

**My all-purpose word for the mystical, intangible world of spirit and love.

It’s been a lovely visit, filled with family, pets, a party to celebrate the solstice, Christmas Eve dinner with friends so old they are essentially family, many visits to thrift stores and lots and lots of cooking. We lit candles and made our annual Christmas wishes. On Christmas morning, my parents and I chopped veggies, stuffed a turkey and cooked breakfast together, just as we’ve been doing for years. My sister wandered downstairs a little later, bleary from having gotten up at 6 am to drive a friend to the airport.

I’ve walked nearly every day with my mom. I’ve gone through a few lingering boxes of childhood relics. I’ve been to two different New Seasons. I’ve read seven books and slept at least 10 hours a night. I made bear claws for my dad upon his request. I’ve talked to Scott everyday and have wished that he had been able to come with me.

Each time I come to Portland, I look around this jewel of a city and wonder why it is that I moved away. It is clean, friendly and incredibly livable. And yet, Philly calls. Tomorrow night, I’ll answer that call and go home.

My immediate reaction to both instances was irritation, bordering on rage (each driver required a shake of the head to stop their beeping). “If I need a cab, I’ll damn well hail one,” I thought to myself. Experiencing this response makes me realize that I’ve been living in Center City Philadelphia too long. Here’s hoping ten days on the west coast will gentle my soul (even just a little) and help me shake off those protective city layers.

*     *     *     *     *

This morning was this office building’s annual “Tenant Appreciation Breakfast.” I remember last year having an impressive spread, with bagels, cream cheese and multiple kinds of danish. When I finally made my way down there this morning, all that remained were a few cake-y muffins and some watery fruit salad. All week long I had been looking forward to that bagel, so I was a mite bit disappointed that there were none.

I thought about my missed bagel for at least an hour after the muffin was gone and eventually decided that it would be better to buy one than to continue to pine. I stopped by the office kitchen just before heading downstairs and oh joy! There were a few bagels left over from a morning meeting! I toasted up a half, delighted to be getting the bagel for free (and I only ate a half, whereas had I purchased one, I would have eaten the whole thing).

]]> http://www.apartment2024.com/2009/12/17/briefly/feed/ 3 http://www.apartment2024.com/2009/12/13/the-second-night-of-hanukkah/ http://www.apartment2024.com/2009/12/13/the-second-night-of-hanukkah/#comments Mon, 14 Dec 2009 04:18:09 +0000 Marisa http://www.apartment2024.com/?p=1300
Last night, cousins Amy and Jean hosted their annual Latke Party. Unfortunately, travel and the stomach flu kept a number of the expected guests away. Their absence didn’t keep the rest of from enjoying stacks of white and sweet potato pancakes, topped with sour cream and (my homemade) applesauce. Before dinner, Amy lit the Hanukkah candles and sang the traditional prayers. It was lovely.