Day Forty Three: Don't Bug Me Anymore Cupcakes

I made a mistake the other day.  After the Honey Lace Cookies nearly set off my smoke detector, I decided insect-themed treats were not my gift.  My son won't be bringing them to school. My mistake was not informing my son about this realization.  He was disappointed that he would not be the bearer of sugary delights and he let me know it:  By asking me over and over and over and over when could we bring treats to his class.  I relented and (with permission from the teacher) decided to try Martha's bug cupcakes.  They are achingly cute but the directions don't look that hard. (Yes, I know those are famous last words.)

Cupcakes:

Tops of the cupcakes removed and cut in half:

Beheaded cupcake with frosting:

The cupcake tops turn into (ta-da!) WINGS:

Seriously, how clever is that?


One could stop there, but Martha wouldn't, so neither will I....


Creating the bug heads with gumdrops and licorice:

The trickiest part of the whole operation was getting that licorice to stick into the head.  Curse you, bug anatomy.


Decorated cupcakes:

I cannot express how excited my son was to bring these cupcakes to his class this morning.  They fit almost all  the favorite criteria for boys' favorite things:  1) bugs, 2) sugar, and 3) a high potential for getting dirty.  If these cupcakes could also make a lot of noise and glow in the dark, they would be prefect.

Day Forty Two: Sirloin of Asparagus or Blame It On the Rain

Today it rained. And rained. And rained.

It rained so much I started to wonder if I could hail Noah from my porch.

Because of the rain I did not go to the grocery.  Correction:  I *did* go to the grocery, but lost enthusiasm/ momentum/ large enough umbrella, and decided not to brave the storm.  Since I did not go to the grocery, I did not buy the items I needed to make the yummy dish I was going to make today.

And that is why I am staring into my refrigerator trying to figure out what's for dinner. Or, more specifically, what Martha recipe I'm going to make for dinner.

So here's what I've found:  a couple of sirloin steaks, salad greens, asparagus, two cucumbers, three eggs, and a bunch of leftovers from Easter.  (Note to self: review Martha's guidelines on stored food).

After a little online research, I've figured I can make Martha's Grilled Sirloin Steak with Herbs and Roasted Asparagus.  My husband says this doesn't count for two separate days/entries, so consider this your double-helping.

One of the sirloins with herbs:

Sorry, I forgot to take a "before" photo of the asparagus. :kicking self:

Completed sirloin and asparagus with a large glass of wine. (Mommy's had a tough day.)

Both recipes are absurdly simple, very good, and if you can get your husband/significant other/ personal slave to grill the steaks, you'll have plenty of time to finish that glass of wine.

That was so easy, I couldn't mess it up if I tried. And if I did, I'm blaming it on the rain...

Day Forty One: Honey, I Burned the Cookies

My son is studying insects this week at school.  I learned this because I received an email from his teacher asking that each child bring to school an insect in a jar that he found from home.

Yes:  Found. From. Home.

My first thought was:  I spend a significant percentage of my existence making sure there are no bugs in my home.

My second thought was:  oh, from home.  She probably meant insects that we found from home outside.

Whew.

I was trying to think about what I could do to contribute to the topic, when I found Martha's Honey Lace Cookies.  Honey...Bees...Insects...Get it?

Best part:  there are only five ingredients.  And one is salt.

Melted ingredients:

Cookies spooned onto cookie sheet waiting to be cooked.

Finished cookies:
It makes a really delicate, lacy cookie.  Perfect for a shower or tea.

The cookies are so thin, my son took one look at them and decided they weren't "real" cookies.  He couldn't tell me what they were, but was adamant they were not cookies.

One teensy problem with this recipe:  since the cookies are so delicate, they burn rather easily.  I guess I won't be taking them to school since I burned half the batch.  One that made the cut:

And now I'm off to find an insect.  Outside.

Day Forty: Stain Houdini

There are three things in life that are inevitable:  death, taxes and stains on my husband's clothes.  He's a stain magnet.  In fact, he can hardly wear a shirt for five minutes without getting something on it.  :certifiable fact:

Fortunately for this blog, he wore a new shirt and shorts today.  Within ten minutes both shirt and shorts had oil and grease on them.

Not oil and grease as in my-salad-dressing-just-landed-on-my-lap, or the cooking-oil-just-splattered-on-my-shirt, but honest to goodness oil and grease.

No, he is not a mechanic.  These stains came from walking within five feet of a bicycle.

With a stain-magnet like him, Martha's Stain removal guide  has become a dear friend.  I encourage you to print it off and hang it in your laundry room.  You may never actually use it, but it is reassuring.  Should you have a nasty stain on your hands, and feel like reprising your high school Chemistry final, you'll be ready.  Truly, it reads like a science experiment.  Armed with an eyedropper, a dull-egdged knife and petroleum jelly, you'll be amazed the stains you can vanquish.

You'll feel like a domestic Macgyver.

And so, with much enthusiasm, and very little confidence, I began to remove the stains from both pieces of clothing.

I first coated both stains with cornstarch:

Then blotted with acetone, a.k.a. fingernail polish remover.

Rinsed the stain with isopropyl alcohol (rubbing alcohol)....

At this point, the stain is supposed to be pretty much gone, but my stain was still there.  My confidence in Martha was at an all-time low.  So I soaked it in an enzyme detergent for a few minutes and when I scrubbed it with a toothbrush....

Voila!  I'm like a Stain Houdini.

In closing I have two acknowledgments:

To Martha, I'm sorry for ever doubting you.

To my husband, when I said I'd never buy you new clothes again...I take it back.

Day Thirty Nine: Do-Over Sugar Cookies

After the disastrous birthday Puzzle Cookie yesterday, I woke up ready to tackle another, if much simpler, cookie gift. I was half expecting Oops, I did it again to become my theme song.  I had some of the sugar cookie dough left and a cute little box, so I thought I could make some little cookies to fit inside. *  I could make recruit my kids' help with the sprinkles, so it would be a success from one point:  it would give them something constructive to do inside on a rainy humid day. Mommy has her hair to think of.

Roll of sugar cookies with sprinkles

 Child labor: Sprinkling the cookies.

Cookies ready for the oven: 

Delicious cookies straight from the oven:

Cute little box:

Cookies in the box:

*In truth, it was blind luck that the cookies fit so perfectly into the box.  Had I tried to make them fit into this box, you would be reading an amusing account of how I broke all the cookies trying to fit them in. :Thank you, cookie fairy:

Now this is a gift I can be proud of:  a dozen little sugar cookies in a ridiculously cute box.  :pats self on back:  They look so good, I'm glad I have this proof that I made them.  No one will believe me.

Happy Birthday, little guy.

Day Thirty Eight: Puzzling Cookie

We are celebrating a little boy's birthday tomorrow.  This little boy is the son of a very good friend.  He is turning four and his mother has asked that in lieu of toys, we bring one kids book that will be donated to the childrens' hospital.  It is such a sweet gesture and one that we should all emulate...But I sort of feel bad for the little boy:  what four-year old understands philanthropy? Poor kid is probably coming to his birthday expecting a toy-a-palooza and he's getting...books.

Books that he's going to donate.

So I'm not buying a gift for him.  I'm following directions...but I am going to make a gift, which was not mentioned at all by his mother.  (If you are reading this, please forgive me, B.)  The lawyer in me says that if it was not explicitly excluded,  it's an exception.

Gift-giving being rationalized, I'm off to buy the ingredients....

I'm going to make Martha's Cookie Puzzle, which in addition to being edible is also educational (you have to solve the puzzle), so it's not all bad, right?  (This is where the readers are supposed to agree.)

I happen to know that this special boy is crazy about dinosaurs, so I decided to theme my cookie puzzle on dinosaurs.  I baked the (really large) cookie and divided it per Martha's instructions.

 Then, I put a background of white icing:

Since I have a dinosaur-loving son of my own, I have to admit that I am pretty good at drawing dinosaurs.  Many an afternoon have I sat with a kid on my lap drawing the things.  So it was with some surprise that my dinosaur turned out like this:  

Not fantastic.  It looks like someone hemorrhaged on the cookie. You can hardly tell it's a dinosaur.  I thought about including a note explaining it was a dinosaur, but figured if I had to do that, then the dinosaur must really stink.  

And when I tried to make it better by outlining it and drawing in some details, it only got worse:

A photo of the handsome face:

And the tail, complete with spikes:

At this point, I'm pretty sure Someone is trying to teach me a lesson.  (Next time, I won't try to be clever, I promise.  I will follow all gift-giving directions, explicit or implied.) 

But now, I have a gift that needs a-fixin'.

I decided to abandon the dinosaur shape (a stegosaurus for those of you who were wondering) and just draw the number four.  That's easy.  Never mind that the sugar cookie now has approximately seven inches of icing on it.  Kids like icing.

With the number four:

Ever wish you had an "undo" button for your life? That's how I feel about this cookie. I'd like to start at the beginning.  Right about at photo #1.

This is the finished product:

I sort of swirled all the icing together to make an abstract image.  The puzzle is really more about shapes, than a specific image, anyway.

You might notice how this cookie is substantially smaller than it was originally.  That is because during the process, the bottom part of the cookie cracked.  So, I abandoned it.  There was also a large mouth-shaped bite out of another piece.  I'm still not sure who is the culprit.  But a smaller cookie is actually better.  We wouldn't want to give the birthday boy a a tummy ache.

Sort-of cool, abstract design:

Cookie puzzle in gift box, ready for solving:

A note inside says:

Happy Birthday!

Don't cheat, solve the puzzle before you eat!

I think it will look better when the icing dries.
:skeptical:

In the end, unless I wake up tomorrow and the cookies look like this:

I probably won't be giving the puzzle to the birthday boy.

I'll just show up with my book and hope his mother didn't read this entry.

Day Thirty-Seven: Conquering Mt. Laundry

Now that our out-of-town guests have departed, kids have returned to school, and husband has left for a business trip, I have loads of downtime in which to get the house back in order.  In fact, let me just put this box of bon-bons down and I'll be right with you.

First order of business: Conquering the mountain of laundry.

As ever, I look to Martha for support.

Although the chapter on Laundry Rooms in her Homekeeping book is quite long, Martha does not have a section on "How to Make the Laundry Wash and Fold Itself".  She does have sections on: Detergent vs. Soap, How to Dry Laundry, and How to Iron Ruffles.  I'm sure that's all very helpful to someone, but it's not helping me ascend Mt. Laundry. (Side note: Martha also has a lengthy section on Line Drying, including types of clotheslines and techniques.  Since I'm in no rush to look like the Beverly Hillbillies, I went ahead and skipped that section.  You, however, may be able to get away with it.)

If you are like me, sorting and throwing the clothes into the washer and dryer is not the problem.  It's what happens next.

Folding.

It's not that I can't fold laundry.  Last time I checked I did have both arms intact and operational. It's more that I lack the motivation to fold laundry.  Part of the problem is that the resulting piles of towels, shirts, etc isn't all that pretty. Every shirt is folded slightly differently, producing a lopsided pile of clothes.  I want my completed laundry to look perfectly folded and stacked:  like I walked into the Gap.

Towels are the biggest culprit.  You fold them and put them away, then you see them looking slightly untidy all week, until it's time to use them again.  Luckily, Martha tells us How to Fold A Towel.  (Homekeeping p. 413)

She starts with a reminder that there is a right and wrong way to fold a towel, "so that the edges are hidden and the towel looks fluffy and neat."  By this Martha insinuates that you've probably been doing it wrong, so you better go ahead and read on.

You should start by folding the towel in thirds lengthwise so that you have one heck of a skinny towel. (Martha alerts us that a towel hung over a towel rod should also be folded in this manner, in case you were wondering.)

 Next you should fold the towel into thirds: one-third from the top, then fold over onto the bottom third.  This may bamboozle some of you if you are very bad with fractions. If so, you can give that excuse to your guests when they arrive and your towels are in disarray.

:Guest opens bathroom cabinet, towels fall on her head:

You:   Sorry, I'm bad with fractions.

Guest:   Ah!  I understand.


While all of this towel-folding business was very enlightening, I must be off:  My trek up Mt. Laundry has hardly begin.  Wish me luck.


See Homekeeping, p. 361 et seq.