multi-tasking

I used to think I was quite good at multi-tasking. I prided myself on the fact that I could create complicated meals by myself, with each dish finishing at the same time. I could carry on in-depth conversations while cooking, crafting, or cleaning. It all seemed easy--automatic almost. But there are certain things I simply cannot do at the same time as others. Reading for instance. Though I am one of the lucky people who can read in a moving car, I cannot read while there is a TV on, or music playing, or anything remotely interesting. I guess by that explanation if the thing on TV doesn't interest me at all I could probably pull it off, but don't expect equal absorption as when I am in a distraction-free reading environment. Here's another one: being pregnant. For starters I seem to be incapable of carrying on this blog while being pregnant. And I think it isn't just the pregnancy, but the fact that I am pregnant, and working, and taking care of another child (which is totally nothing big compared to a bajillion other people I know, but it's still bogging me down)! I had no idea how much harder being pregnant would be for me when I already had a baby. Some things just have to be experienced to be understood, and I think this is one of them. So, I am sorry that I absolutely suck at blogging right now. I am not the most regular of computer users as it is--I avoid email unless necessary, I don't have a Facebook page, I don't Twitter. But I do like to write, and to share, so I am genuinely sorry that I seem incapable of it right now. All I can say is thank you for sticking around--you get bonus points for just reading this because it means you haven't given up yet though I have even considered it! So, here's some stuff that's fun and new in my world...

--Baby Moore #2 is due in less than 8 weeks, and I can't wait until he/she is here. I seriously can't wait.

--Chris finished creating the most amazing crib ever for our new little one. It is made of maple and cherry woods and is by far the most valuable piece of furniture either of us has ever owned!

--Ella is singing, pointing out colors, talking about animals, and counting to ten (apart from five, which she refuses to say) constantly. She is endlessly busy--though equally entertaining.

--Hobart is fluffy and smelly and snorty, but still adorable.

We have so much to be grateful for and I have to keep reminding myself that it's okay that I am bad at being pregnant and doing all the other things I once did and still want to do because we get a baby out of the deal. It's so worth it. Anyway, I hope to be here more regularly in the future, so please don't abandon me yet! Cheers!

Here's that most gorgeous crib. I hope that the next time you see it there's someone in it! Preferably on top of a mattress as well.

Ella the entertainer and her many funny faces. This one includes some crackers squirreled away in those cheeky cheeks!

This one looks like a mug shot gone wrong!

And Chris put it best when he looked at Ella's expression in this photo and said "I'm Ron Burgundy?"

The hair-do might have added to that affect.

You stay classy San Diego!

feeling industrious

Maybe it has to do with the fact that our family will soon be expanding, but we have been on a rampage of productivity around here these last few weeks. I should say that Chris has done most of the hard work, not the least of which is motivating me, but we are pretty excited about a few projects in particular. This weekend, for instance, we've already bottled Chris's first batch of home brew, and we have our first batch of tomatoes processing in the canner as I write! The beer should be really fun--a smoked porter--it's just too bad that I won't be able to enjoy it. I have a pretty strong feeling that none of the 46 bottles Chris filled yesterday will last until March! At least this way he can work the kinks out of the process and be producing perfect beer by the time I can partake. The tomatoes are so gorgeous, and I don't know if they'll look the same when they are done boiling away, but I sure hope so. We had about a 15 lb. collection of red, orange, and white tomatoes which layered beautifully into the mason jars. The orange and white tomatoes in particular are some of the most delicious I've ever tasted, so I keep hoping it will stay warm enough long enough to get at least one more batch out of them. Harvests have been disappointing this year because of the lame weather we've been battling all summer. Those are a couple of the fun, little projects we've been up to, but wait, there's more!

Chris has been spending time out on our dear friends', the Roses, farm, learning how to do a major woodworking project. He's building a crib. A custom designed and built crib of maple and cherry woods that will be our very own heirloom piece of furniture to use and pass along one day. I'll share pictures when it's done, because I know it will blow you away! I guess I should explain that Bill Rose is a professional woodworker, not to mention a general handyman, vegetable gardener, patient teacher, foodie, musician, and a all-around happy, nice guy. And on top of that he's married to a similarly awesome woman, Kim, who also happens to be a professional interior designer. I pretty much want to move in with them every time I go to their farm. We're so lucky to have such great friends.

If you've seen our tiny house, you're probably wondering just where we're going to fit this aforementioned crib. The two bedrooms we currently have are chock full, so luckily we've started finishing the upstairs expansion...finally!!! This is of course the biggest thing we've undertaken recently. We actually aren't doing the work ourselves, we've hired a fabulous contractor who completely understands our limited financial situation, and even specializes in working on a budget. He's fast, efficient, and does quality work, and we couldn't be more excited about having that upstairs turned into a usable space. It will be our master bedroom, but with a semi-separate nursery area on one end. We also can't wait to turn our current bedroom into a formal dining room so we can actually have people over to eat for a change. I know we'll have to re-evaluate the room situation before too long, but it will be perfect for us for a while at least. I don't have myself organized enough to add pictures right now, but I'll post some very soon, sans the long babbling narrative. Cheers!

distracted--that's how I've been lately

Do you ever wake from a dream that was so pleasant you just want to be back in it? I always try to keep my eyes closed and stay still as long as possible, as if I might actually slip back into the same time and place I just left. I've been waking up like this a lot lately. Even in the middle of the night when I'm awoken by a cranky Ella, I still have a smile on my face.

I had a particular dream the other day that was perfect. Unfortunately I don't remember more than one detail from the entire thing, but I remember that altogether it was perfect. It's sad that dreams often get fuzzy in our memories, rather more quickly even than regular information! But this one was perfect and remembering that feeling of happiness that it gave me is enough for me. After I woke from it, and was actually ready to break the spell and move, I leaned over to Chris and said "I just dreamt that we had another girl."

I don't actually know if it's a girl or boy, but we should find out some time in early March...

xoxoemily and co.

malty goodness

I had a taste for malts today. Luckily I told Chris about this fact early enough in the day to make the requisite grocery run for fresh ice cream. Though I love making my own, Haagen-Dazs is more than sufficient for blending with milk and malt powder. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that Chris had cleaned out the cupboards last week and decided that the malt powder we had was too old, so he tossed it (he's so much more efficient and responsible than me). I would have bought malt powder at the store today had I known! Oh well, the fact that Chris is now in transit to the grocery store to get some, (I didn't make him, he honestly volunteered--malts sound better and better the more talk about them) I now have time to write a blog post!

Thinking of malts brought another funny story to mind. A couple years ago my mom and I were out running errands and decided we needed malts. Luckily I have several excellent malt making establishments in my cell phone contacts, so we called up the Malt Shop and placed our order--one coffee chocolate malt for me, one orange yogurt malt for my mom. Since we were already on the road, we got there before they were ready and decided to run into the great little gift shop next door, just for a peek. After a couple minutes we decided we could wait no longer and just took one last look at a nice little cheese board and knife set near the door before leaving. Oh, but this was no nice little cheese board and knife set. I hadn't even touched it, but somehow the knife out on display sensed my presence and fell to the ground, slicing directly through my right big toe on it's way down. Maybe the knife knew I liked cheese, and that I thought it looked like a handy set, but it was scared to be purchased and used. Maybe it lived a wild life like Woody in Toy Story, when no one was looking, and didn't want to leave behind all it's friends. I have no idea why, or how, it happened, but the next thing I knew I was literally pouring blood onto the concrete floor of the store. I sat down on a nearby bench and my mom ran for kleenex. A clerk came over with a look of utter horror on her face and said "can I do anything?" clearly hoping we would say no. I was in shock and didn't know what to say other than "it's okay." I didn't want to sound like an over-reactor after all. What if I need stitches? What if my toe is forever damaged? What are they going to do with that knife now that it's drawn blood in the store? And on top of everything, I couldn't help but think...our malts are sitting waiting for us next door! My mom wanted to take me to the ER for stitches, but I just wanted my malt. So we wrapped up my toe and got up to go--it was already oozing through the tissue. When we stepped outside my mom practically threw me in the car and put my foot on the dashboard, while I continued to wrap fresh tissue around it to keep the blood from staining the vinyl. As my mom came running back with the malts I thought we were in the clear, but suddenly she was nearly blown over by a gust of wind and suddenly bent over double. I rolled down the window and yelled out to find out what happened and she yelled back "It's my contact--something just blew into my eye and I can't see!" Great, now neither of us could drive. She finally made it to the car and we sat sucking down our malts for a good five minutes before either of us could move. I had to keep my toe from bleeding on everything and my mom had to fish out her glasses, but we made it home and lived to tell the tale. If it weren't for those malts I'm just not sure we would have survived.

The malty goodness has returned from the grocery story ready for action!

The sad scarred toe

bootleggers and springrolls

Last night we had the great pleasure of attending the wedding of a dear family friend, Helen. The ceremony was lovely with excellent musical performances from each of her sons, but you can guess where I'm heading with this entry--the reception had stellar food and drinks! Held at the Minikahda club, the event started with drinks and hors d'oeuvres on the upstairs balcony. As we overlooked the gorgeous view of lake Calhoun, we sampled fresh springrolls, cheese and marmalade canapes, avocado toasts, springrolls, cheesetoasts, and some more springrolls. When Chris ordered a Macallan from the bar he was given a juice glass full--what a way to start the evening! The gin and tonics, rum and cokes, and glasses of wine were free-flowing, but the star of the veranda was the bootlegger. I never got a definition of the bootlegger that would satisfy and engineer, but what I gathered in my scientific research was that it included something along the lines of gin, vodka, soda, lemon juice, and mint. It's like a mojito crossed with a long island iced tea and it is dangerously delicious. My mother wasn't sure what she thought of the bootlegger so she had to sample several of them to decide!

People were noticeably hesitant when told to go back inside and find their seats for dinner--why would we want to lose our view or place at the bar?! But grudgingly we went and were pleasantly surprised by the immediate wine service, not to mention places at a table with fun friends and seats near the band. The dinner started with a beautiful homegrown tomato salad with bocconcini (tiny balls of fresh mozzarella), basil oil, shaved radishes, and microgreens with a flavor of anise. It was honestly beautiful, and a perfect combination. I wonder just what homegrown meant, since I didn't see a garden on site with enough tomato plants to feed 200 person banquets every couple nights. I assume they meant local, and I love that concept, though unfortunately it was a bit early in the year for the multi-colored fruit, considering what a cool tomato season we've had so far. The most fun thing on the plate was a tiny, dark green, half-orb with white spots, which I first assumed was just a variety of heirloom tomato I'd never seen before, but it turned out to be a crisp cucumber! I was fastidious about getting a taste of each element on the plate in every bite, and yet I still managed to clean my plate first among my table-mates.

The main dish came next and included a generous halibut fillet encrusted with scallops and lightly drizzled with beurre blanc, seated next to green and yellow beans with baby carrots (the real baby carrots, not just the lathed down excuse for baby carrots found in a pre-packaged bag), and a potato gratin wrapped in brick pastry and topped with some sweet cooked tomatoes. I couldn't remember what brick pastry was when I first read the menu card, but it's much like phyllo--light and flaky and wonderfully crisp when cooked with the right amount of butter! The food was attractive and tasty if a bit overdone and underseasoned. It must be hard to manage perfection at such a high level for such a crowd, though! I don't mean to complain either--I managed to suffer through the plate and even found room for a slice of crusty seeded bread with butter--yum!

Dessert included a small triangle of flourless chocolate cake and a martini class full of fresh berries with lemon curd. It was a great crowdpleaser--even for my mother who stubbornly refuses to like, or even eat, chocolate. I even brought her to Switzerland twice and she won't convert. I know, I don't understand it either. But she felt included in the dessert even if she passed the cake to my dad. She made up for the lack in calorie consumption from cake by imbibing several glasses of champagne instead. Who wouldn't when they serve Veuve Clicquot to everyone!

The party was a hit. We all had a blast, though some maybe aren't enjoying themselves as much today! I always love weddings. And I laughed especially hard when the priest made a joke about what three things a woman sees as she first steps into the church--the aisle, the alter, and him. Not to be confused with the thought "I'll alter him". After sharing in such a beautiful event, I don't think Helen would alter a thing.

long time no sea

We did return from Australia, so why have I disappeared again? Well after we first returned I can safely blame Ella. You simply can't fool a baby into a time change. Especially not a 15 hour time change. She thought it would be fun to stay up eating and playing until after 2 am for days on end, and there was just no convincing her that it would be much more fun to sleep! That really through a wrench into the works. Then we were babysitting for a friend of the family's three kids for a week. That was a fun gig, but it meant being away from home for another week, only two days after we returned. 4th of July was thrown in there too. Then I immediately started teaching a cooking class, which was an absolute blast, but utterly exhausting.

I've been trying to get a cooking class for teens going for years and first I had trouble figuring out exactly how and where I wanted to do it. Then when I decided I wanted to go the community ed route I had trouble convincing people that food actually costs a fair amount of money. This is Minnesota people, food doesn't just grow on trees--at least not most of the year! Then along came West Suburban Summer Schools, the independent school district #287 summer school program for students who qualify for gifted and talented services. I gave it another try and luckily found a closet foodie in the administrative position. Teen Cuisine was finally born! All I had to do was write a curriculum and recipes! Yikes.

I'm not that bad at writing recipes, but I tend to avoid it. It's probably because I'm not a great recipe follower. I certainly can follow one--I know the rules and all--I just generally choose not to. I even used to think I couldn't bake. I didn't like it at all because it meant following recipes. You mess up the measurements in a batch of brownies and you could wind up with hockey pucks--no thanks. But one of the most valuable lessons I learned in culinary school was from the infamous Chef Michelle Gayer of the Salty Tart. She taught me the secret of flavor infusions. They are the answer to personalizing recipes in the pastry kitchen without altering a formula that works. Woohoo! I now LOVE baking. But I digress, we'll return to pastries later.

I decided that there was no way a student could learn how to make real food in the kitchen without using real knives. That is a terrifying thought to anyone who has ever worked in a public school, particularly at the middle school level. We are trained to think of knives in the hands of 8th graders as a dangerous thing, and for good reason I'd say, but I was adamant that they be allowed in my class. The only problem was that the kitchen classroom that we were using didn't seem to have any. Okay, I don't mind bringing mine from home, but that just adds more liability concerns. Here is where the support, or ignorance, of my supervisors definitely came in handy. We just got parents to sign waivers and away we cut! There are few greater ways to show your trust in a 13 year old than to hand them a recipe, a bag of groceries, and a 12 inch Santoku. It truly paid off too. I was thoroughly impressed with their excitement and enthusiasm as well as their quick grasp of new skills. We made about 25 recipes during the week long class, some multiple times, and they became quite fluent throughout the process.

I did learn about a weakness of mine, though. I have become intolerant of people who refuse to taste new foods. I know I used to do that myself, before I became a born-again-eater, and I cringe at the thought. I must now officially apologize to anyone reading this who may have once cooked food for me that I refused to eat, complained about, or made a face at. Why didn't you just throw me out? It is a repulsive personality characteristic that I have a very tough time accepting in people--including my past self. This is not to say that I like all foods equally. Personally I think broccoli only redeems is existence through its nutritional value. Liver, excepting foie grois, tastes just like sucking on a cut finger or a penny. I just don't fancy that metallic quality. But at least I've tried them! I can say these things through experience. And I can also safely say that I will graciously accept them if they are served to me again. Cooking is about sharing love. It is about giving and accepting personal gestures. It is about making people feel good. I hope I got that across in my class. And I hope I get a chance to teach it again--it's the best way to learn.

Here's a favorite recipe of mine--just to share some love with my readers. Semifreddo means "half cold" in Italian and is a simple ice cream that requires no churning. You can find gazillions of different recipes for it, but this is one of my favorites, as well as one of the simplest. Sabayonne is a traditional French dessert--a warm custard, which forms the base of this semifreddo. Any alcohol can be used, so don't be afraid--get creative!

Sabayonne Semifreddo

Serves 4-5

Ingredients:

2 egg yolks

2 oz. alcohol, such as white wine, champagne, marsala, etc.

2 oz. sugar

1 pint heavy cream

Directions:

Over low heat, or a simmering pot of water, whisk together egg yolks, alcohol, and sugar until they form a custard (the mixture should foam and expand, then thicken until it coats the back of a wooden spoon). Be careful not to let the eggs scramble, or curdle along the edges of the bowl. This is your sabayonne. Meanwhile, whip cream until it forms soft peaks. Fold together sabayonne and whipped cream. Transfer to individual molds and freeze until stiff (depending on your containers and the freezer, this part could take anywhere from 45 minutes to overnight). I suggest trying it on yourself before you make it for guests, so you can you make sure it's safe! When you do serve it, throw on some fresh berries--something we do manage to grow very well here in Minnesota--and enjoy!

Even Ella loves ice cream--and sharing it!

Love, Emily

cheerios

As we walked through the local grocery store in nearby Gympie my mother suddenly attacked me from behind saying, "here, take your daughter and her cheerio." It sounds harmless enough, but a cheerio in Aussieland is not a small oaty cereal, but rather a cocktail weenie stuffed into kool-aid red casing. num num. Well, Ella thought so, but my mother wasn't too thrilled with the idea of Ella devouring a cold sausage over her shoulder. Oh the things we learn when we travel.

My mom is slowly losing the deer-in-headlights look about her, and warming up to the pace of life here. We're now at David's house, by the way, which is in the clouds, literally. David is Chris's dad who bought 66 acres in the sunshine coast hinterland along with a beautiful, though quirky house; an "American barn" which doesn't seem remotely American to me, the silly American in town; a pool, though it's mostly empty apart from the goannas; a pond, or dam as they call ponds here; a small gum tree plantation; and any number of native critters. The daily routine here involves checking the water level on the multiple tanks that catch rain-water, starting a fire inside for warmth, starting a fire outside for fun, taking a walk down the driveway which doubles as a rally car race track, taking a bath or shower after the trek back up, checking the water level again, walking up the 4-wheel drive track to the bush lemon tree and the peak of the property (I must admit the lemon tree might be more enticing to me), having a drink, having another shower, checking the water levels again, having another drink by the fire, and going to bed. My mom and Chris get a little antsy, but personally I love the view of the macadamia plantation below us, just beyond the clay stove on the deck. I don't mind just sitting there and staring out for hours on end, so I guess it works for me up here, at least while I'm on holiday.

***

Okay, we just ate dinner, hence the *** interlude. I've also had a couple gin and tonics and several glasses of superb Australian Shiraz, so things might start to get a little hazy at this point. In fact, instead of writing any more, I think I will simply leave you with a few choice pics from the last couple days up here in hinterland and hope you might feel a touch of the sublime life that is lived here.

the view from the front deck of "The Moore Hilton: Hinterland Abode" (the dark trees in the middle are the macadamia plantation belonging to one of his neighbors)

even the kangaroos are cheeky here

Chris got tired at the beach, but luckily Ella came to his rescue

Chris is being silly and telling me that actually that's not the beach, it's the river. Hello, the water there is still salty. We still ate fish and chips there. There are still scary animals everywhere! It's totally the beach. Doesn't he know anything about this place?