OnBlueUnderCanvas

On Friday, Kirk turned the ripe old age of twenty-seven. He didn’t like this one bit. The number 27 in particular wasn’t to blame, Kirk just has a general aversion to getting older. (Don’t we all?) Some of us accept the inevitable with grace (me), others, (cough, Kirk) would do almost anything to keep from getting older. I can’t prove it, but he might be allergic to aging. Since no amount of wishing, praying or lamp-rubbing will turn back time, what is left to do? Exploit the day for its intended purpose: celebration.

We didn’t do anything crazy. We didn’t even spend that much money or drink too many beverages. It was a fairly normal day. But, it was Kirk’s day, and we did what Kirk wanted to do. First off (after a tasty breakfast of pancakes made by yours truly) we visited one, if not The, most famous surf break in the United States: Trestles

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Every year, Trestles hosts the ASP World Tour and NSSA Nationals.

The wind was kicking the waves around, so the surf wasn’t that great. We explored the beach instead.

No matter how old (or young), every birthday boy or girl needs a cake. I decided to make Kirk a cake from scratch. That morning before he woke up, I snuck out to the grocery store to pick up some last minute ingredients: cake flour, butter, sprinkles (okay, not every part of the cake was from scratch) and candles.

After getting back from Trestles, I spent the better part of the afternoon baking two 7″ x 11″ cake layers, whipping up frosting and assembling the whole mess into something pretty. While I was baking, Kirk was cooking. He put together a Portugese chicken marinade and set to deep frying chopped potatoes. The results? Pineapple & chicken sandwiches (perfectly sweet and spicy) with sides of homemade french fries and ice-cold Pacificos.

But wait, there’s cake.

And presents.

And more cake.

Maybe getting older isn’t so bad after all. ☼

Since we’re already a few days post-Christmas, I’d venture a guess that the frenzy of holiday baking in most households across America has died down. Leftover pies and only the ugliest holiday cookies remain on the kitchen countertop all hoping that Uncle Chuck’s stomach or Brother Billy’s sweet tooth will give them a grand exit like the rest of their dessert brethren before them.

Baking Christmas cookies used to be a regular event when my sister Kelly and I were little. As we’ve grown, it’s become less and less of a priority on my mom’s Christmas TO DO list (she’s a list lady). When I talk on the phone to her about our upcoming holiday plans, I’ll say, “Let’s make cookies!” and she replies with, “Ohh. You really want to make cookies?”

Well sheesh, it’s not like I want to mine our own coal and give it to each other for Christmas. Nevertheless, the cookie initiative now rested on Kelly and my shoulders.

Thus we needed to decide what kind of cookies to make. Cutouts are always the most fun. You can decorate them in a zillion different ways with sprinkles, frosting, food coloring and whatever else you can find in the back of the cupboard. Despite the enticing possibilities for creative cutout-try, my mind was set on a recipe of cookie sophistication I found on smittenkitchen.com.

These iced oatmeal cookies may not scream “WE ARE CHRISTMAS COOKIES!” like sugar snowman cutouts do, but their elegantly draped icing and cinnamon & nutmeg-flavored interior have convinced me they are quite fitting of the season.

Baking Tip: Do you know the difference between Kosher salt and table salt? I didn’t, so I asked my dad.

me: what’s kosher salt?
dad: i don’t know, it’s never seen a pig or something.

Naturally that was wonderfully helpful, so I asked my mom. She told me the granules of Kosher salt are much larger than the granules of table salt. As a result, one teaspoon of table salt is much “more salt” than one teaspoon of Kosher salt. If you plan to swap table salt for Kosher like I did in this recipe, make sure you use much less table salt. Try half. No one likes a salty cookie. ☼

(Learn more about Kosher salt here.)

The calendar has officially flipped to December, so it’s no surprise that it’s flipping freezing outside. (And I’m nowhere near Southern California – yet.) It is time to bust out those dusty inside hobbies: knitting, crocheting, scrapbooking – heaven forbid. My personal confined-to-the-house amusement? Baking. Just your standard oatmeal raisin cookies, some chocolate chip, maybe a pie here or there, nothing fancy. Be it as it may, baking isn’t practical. No one needs two dozen snickerdoodle cookies. Cooking, on the other hand, now that’s a useful hobby.

A few nights ago, Kirk and I were rolling the cart up and down the grocery store aisles. Sighing, mid-reach for a jar of Classico alfredo sauce, he said what was on both of our minds: “We need to learn how to cook new food.” That jar of alfredo sauce would be used to make our umpteenth dish of chicken alfredo pasta, no doubt. Our staples, including said pasta with pre-made sauce, ground turkey tacos and chicken sandwiches really need a break from our culinary repertoire. I resolved to buy a new cookbook.

At home, I made a mental list of what I’d like in a cookbook. Because I really like being able to see a photo of the finished recipes, the more photos, the better. Books with an emphasis on ‘quick and easy’ received extra brownie points. With these prerequisites in mind, I began scouring Amazon for the highest-rated books geared toward the cooking novice.

The following three books are top on my list of consideration:

[AMAZONPRODUCT=1401323596]

While traveling abroad – where you expect no luxury whatsoever – I was oddly spoiled rotten with an unbelievably souped-up cable television package at my flat in Sydney. With more American shows that I had even seen in America, I was able to watch Jamie Oliver on the Food Network. Immediately I was attracted to his unpretentious manner and straightforward style. I also liked how he took us along on his journey to gather ingredients from local shops. The book has the same “from the ground up” approach.

[AMAZONPRODUCT=0881507237]

This book attracted me for a handful of reasons:

• it has a stellar average 5 star rating on amazon.com
• it boasts quick “in a hurry” recipes
• it “serves two” (Lauren + Kirk = 2)

[AMAZONPRODUCT=0446572098]

I am intrigued by the 5 ingredient simplicity. Such a small amount of required ingredients should make for an equally small amount of required cooking skills, no? Probably terrible logic, but I’m sticking with it until I try the book.

These three books seem like they could do the job. But, I’d also like to hear about some tried and true favorites. Who has a cookbook they love? Please do share! ☼

“Twenty-five, eh?” my ‘little’ 22 year-old sister says to me. “How’re you feelin’ about that?”

Whether the question came from the psychology grad student eager for a human specimen, or the younger sibling taking a friendly jab at her now older sister, it has me thinking. Ruminating… over what I’ve done with my life up to this quarter-century milestone of age.

Which also gets me thinking how post-modernly emo the mid-twenties lament really is. Consider that John Mayer dedicated a whole song to it. (I know, John Mayer isn’t technically emo, but peel off the first layer of that palatable pop/rock sound and those seemingly down-to-earth lyrics, and underneath thrives an ocean of emotion.) Here’s a snippet from “Why Georgia”:

It might be a quarter life crisis
or just the stirring in my soul

Either way, I wonder sometimes
about the outcome
of a still verdictless life

Am I living it right?

Sure, I’m just as befuddled as the next 21st century post-grad who can’t keep a regular job or regular bed time to save her life. But, looking back on my years – particularly the last half-dozen in which I had to start making my own decisions and hold myself accountable for myself – they’ve been pretty darn good. I’ve traveled and dabbled in lots of endeavors. Shooting a documentary in Costa Rica to rehabbing a condo in Chicago, surfing in Australia to moviemaking in Michigan. Through it all, I still have a handful of great friends, a boyfriend who’s the best of friend, a kickass sister who’s off in New York becoming a PhD superstar and a set of amazingly understanding do-what-makes-you-happy parents.

Now, at terms with my past, I could jump face first into my future. The night before my birthday, Kirk and his parents took me out for dinner to the best pizza place in Ann Arbor: Cottage Inn. More interesting than the great pizza was the beverage I selected to accompany said pizza:

On my actual birth-day, a smattering of friends joined me at a sushi restaurant to celebrate. Everyone ordered a bunch of rolls and we shared them family-style. We tasted and raved, so good! and tasted more and wondered, slices of kiwi on sushi? weird… We drank Kirin Ichiban and saki and ate pistachio ice cream for dessert.

Kirk, with such forethought (or so dirt cheap), saved a website listing birthday drink specials at bars in Ann Arbor. We planned to use this like a field trip itinerary for the night’s adventures.

That started off well and good at The Arena, but from there it was all about ambiance. We jumped to Cafe Habana, and finished at… well, I can’t actually recall.

It was a birthday to remember (if not in amazing detail), and a birthday thoroughly enjoyed, without a doubt. ☼