(no subject)

i want to write something.
I need to write something. A letter, a story, a poem...
...Okay, fact: I have to write a poem. By next month.
Yeah, I'm auditioning for Arts High again this year.
something final we call life

(no subject)

what keeps you going?

LIFE THROWS SO MUCH OUR WAY. From thesis papers to good and bad surprises, no one existential equation is the same as the next. Whether you're a planner or a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants gal (or guy), you can't make accomodations for life and its many plot twists until it's plopped itself in your lap like a ginormous Persian cat.

...And some days, on days when coffee is extinct but your agenda's close to a boil-over, kitty chooses to shed all over your brand-new black suit.

I've been having quite a few of those days lately but in the end, that's the inevitable downside of life, an oopsie!-charred bit of your morning toast you just have to come to accept by hiding it in a thick coating of butter and a kiss of honey. It's not how many little tragedies you can pinpoint in your day, after all, but how you come to defeat them; how you finish your day is the resolution of an epic, no matter how insignificant or life-altering your day turned out to be.

When it comes to surmounting the incredible desire to go Grinch, I prefer coffee, heart-rending music, over-the-phone rant therapy with friends (pro: it's free!), or Pretty Woman in my pj's.
So how do you stomach the grizzle of life, FList?

P.S.: Word to the wise, I don't recommend taking frustrations out on inanimate objects... especially your coffee maker. It usually ends with coffee-grind shrapnel all over your kitchen and tears.
plague doctor


half-baked and harebrained
Lately, I've been feeling a bit like a heaping pile of messy equations that just don't--won't add up, no matter which way I add, subtract, or PEMDAS my way around them. A part-time summer job has become a part-time leave-school-early-every-other-day-or-so job; college flyers and brochures are coming at me to the nth degree; a co-worker has evolved into a co... sexter? And I still have to figure out where yearbook club, walkathons, Parents' Night and courses at the county college fit into this mess.

Behind every fretting college-bound student, you will find sugar... and plenty of it. It seems I'm not the only one who's a little off this week: a batch of brownies from the morning class turned out... well, not very brownie-like at all, but Chef, being the waste-none cost control fiend that she is, asked me for ideas for these fallen sheets of rich, chocolaty cake.

"Ice cream," I suggested, because you can't go wrong with ice cream... or chocolate. Or chocolate ice cream with chunks of chocolaty not-brownie awesomeness.

When I awoke from the typical school-induced haze, I found myself at home, giving the thousand yard stare to a sheet tray of failed brownie. Huh.

After work tomorrow (Saturday... nghh), I'll perform a modernist miracle of making win out of fail. ...If everything adds up. I'll get back to you, lovely FList! Until then, have a nice sleep-in Saturday. ♥
something final we call life

the (summer) foodie

When Life Gives You Bananas...

My dad has this awful habit of inviting people for dinner the day of, something which I--a hermit through and through--hate. And then comes the ominous phone call: "Hey, Lys... we're having your aunt and uncle over. I'm gonna make dinner..." It's the pause that gets my heart racing, my blood boiling, my left eye twitching. He doesn't even need to finish his sentence; I know whatever's coming will roughly amount to "Hey, you, baker! BAKE!"

I don't mind it. Usually.

Today's one of those impromptu dinner days. Since we had some devil's food cake mix up in the cabinet I decided to make an evil banana cake, and in order to not feel like a total sham of a baker, I whipped up some Italian meringue frosting, which I'll ice the cake with once it's filled with some nutella frosting and banana slices.

The mini-bites I made with extra cake batter taste delicious with the frosting when I devoured them tested them out, so... I'm hopeful!

'Til next time, my darling FList. ♥
something final we call life

foodie fun

Just a tiny batch of sweet, food-centric icons because I'm getting a ltitle tired of using my cupcake icon whenever I decide to post food-related things. Enjoy!



Feel free to use any and all of these. I don't particularly care if you credit me or not. That said, I do not own any of the pictures I made these icons from; I found all of these pictures under the "cookie" tag on We Heart It.
cupcake fun

the (summer) foodie

So... I whipped up a batch of crème brûlée today, but in addition to that I made a little discovery of my own:
Slow and steady wins the race.
Not only is this a good (if overused) life lesson, but it should be written in stone as one of the cardinal rules of baking. I tried out a different recipe for pate brisee rather than going with my tried and true recipe from my shop binder--a big mistake on my part. Not only that, but I rushed the entire process: I didn't let it firm up in the fridge nearly long enough, so when I went to blind bake the shell, melted butter oozed from the tart mold to pool all over the pan I was smart enough to bake it on. I'm left with a crumbly and completely wrong crust, a slightly discouraged feeling, and a subpar dessert for tonight.

Ah well. At least I have a silky, delicious custard. (So glad I stuck to Chef's recipe on that one.) I almost had a boil-over--ALMOST!--but I was lucky enough to catch my cream in time and take it off the stovetop before I ended up with messes and (probably) tears. Another lesson, my lovelies: never text and bake!

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Until next time, my brave soliders.
something final we call life

the (summer) foodie

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

...Alright, that might be a little extreme, even for me, but I have a feeling I'll be changing my tune very quickly after eating what's for dessert tonight.

After my first batch of ice cream (ironically successful with my health-conscious father; unsurprisingly a hit with my junk food-obsessed sister and her equally sweet-toothed giant of a boyfriend) my dad stocked the fridge up with pints of heavy cream. Every time I went to grab a slice of leftover pizza to eat straight out of the Ziploc, I felt like I was navigating a land mine of pressure. (It didn't help that my dad kept buying pints of ice cream, loudly explaining that he needed to get it from our local grocery store because his daughter had yet to make up another batch. Yeah, nothing like badgering me into making ice cream, dad.)

I felt obligated to make ice cream, but I was stuck on one of life's universal questions: What flavor do I make?

After some hunting around the interwebs for awesome food blogs (admittedly spending more time drooling than note-taking), I found my inspiration in the form of The Cupcake Project's recipe for cookie dough that's made to be eaten devoured raw. I ended up adding a bit more milk and white sugar than the recipe called for, in addition to a bit of margarine because the batch ended up extremely dry and very floury. It still tastes amazing, but next time I'm going to nix half a cup of flour and only add more if necessary. I recommend using a scant tablespoon of margarine in the dough, just because it gives it a more cohesive texture and a richer taste.

Come on. If I'm making this ice cream, I'm going all the way. It's the weekend. It's ice cream. It's cookie dough ice cream. If you want to skimp on the butterfat, try fro-yo. But for this recipe, for me, it's all or nothing.

I've been scrounging around for a good ice cream base for a while now, ever since I've lost... and found and lost the recipe I got from my shop teacher. Last night I discovered The Best (caps necessary) ice cream base. Ever.

I found my dairy-dessert muse in the form of Ben and Jerry's sweet cream base from the Ice Cream Geek Blog. If you see 'Ben' and/or 'Jerry' in its name, you know you've found a recipe that means business. And believe you me, one "accidental" taste of this tear-jerkingly thick, luscious custard as you're lovingly nudging it into your ice cream maker will have your head reeling. (I know it had me scrounging around the frozen remains like Winnie-the-Pooh with an empty pot of Hunny, watching through the window just in case my dad's car pulled into the driveway.)

It was so decadent and whipped. I think it had a lot to do with the fact the recipe called for the the eggs to be whipped to death before you added your sugar. I found a candy/deep-fry thermometer in the black hole that is my kitchen, so I was able to regulate the temperatures for each step and got an end product with zero curdling. Zero.

I'm sorry Chef, but this is my ice cream base recipe now.

At ten in the morning, I'm left to suffer in wait for five o'clock. Chocolate chip cookie dough in ice cream's a perfect, safe dessert to bring to my momma's Sunday dinner, but am I restrained enough to wait it out without sneaking any tastes? Only time will tell.

Until next time, my loves! (If you have some of your own foodie stories to share, post 'em in the comments! You know I always love hearing from y'all.)
something final we call life

in a nutshell:

My summer vacation so far, summed up, has been...
six am
           The Fountainhead
   muffin boxes
  "My laptop's breaking in half."
    "...My laptop's frozen."
      oatmeal... and coffee

The end.

What're you up to, FList?
something final we call life

original fiction prompt table

the bystander effect (orig fic): 50scenes prompts

006.Birthmark.007.Gasoline.008.Avarice.009.Guarded.010.Writer's Choice.
016.Nocturnal.017.Decadence.018.Lotus.019.Rental.020.Writer's Choice.
026.Here.027.Dying.028.Lullaby.029.Overdrive.030.Writer's Choice.
036.Fever.037.Insomnia.038.Raw.039.Apple.040.Writer's Choice.
041.Kiss.042.No Return.043.Masked.044.Homeland.045.Paranoid.
046.Medication.047.Special.048.Saturnine.049.Sacrifice.050.Writer's Choice.
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cupcake fun

the (summer) foodie

Behold, muffins that taste like doughnuts! One look at this recipe will make your arteries clog and your heart stop, but that doesn't even begin to describe the utterly sinful feeling you get when you're fingers-deep in pools of melted butter. I felt like I'd gone to the beach once I finished tossing these little beauties in cinnamon sugar: that shit got everywhere.

I'm still (im)patiently waiting for the sugary devils to cool and form their lovely crisp sugar crusts. Unless I snuck a premature sample that had seemed much too sugar-coated to exist, I couldn't rightly tell you how awesomazing these are.

Try this recipe out if you dare! (Also, apologies for yet another lame-o photo.)


In other food-related news, I've made two sorbets with my ice cream maker since my mango ice cream experiment. they came out... alright, but way too sugary-sweet for my tastes. I'll post a recipe once I get the ratios right, lovelies!