carrot pudding

The carrot pudding turned out… OK. Here’s a picture of the finished product. I apologize for the partially-eaten pic. You can see that the hard sauce has done its melty thing and all. I had taken a couple of bites when I suddenly realized… oh, $@%#, I forgot to take a picture. So I grabbed the camera and snapped a few and then went back to eating.

It really tastes pretty good.

There are no shots of it lovingly unmolded and resting on some lovely serving dish because it was never actually unmolded.

True confessions time: When it had steamed for the requisite 4 hours, I lifted the mold from the pan and popped the lid off, only to find…

carrot soup.

My old family recipe includes a cup of apple. I used an extra-large Jonagold that was just the right size to produce the right amount of apple when grated. I grated the carrot, so I grated the apple. I missed the tiny print in Mama’s handwriting that said apple, ground. But reading that after the fact sort of brought back memories of Mama sending the apple through her meat grinder — she had an old hand grinder. I have one, too. And the grinding sort of, well… smooshed all the apple juice out of the pulp.

That may have been a good thing to do. Because grating does not have the same effect.

So I stood their in my kitchen and looked at the carrot pudding soup, and wondered what the heck to do. #1 Son was due any minute. Dinner was ready. Eeek! Finally, in desperation, I drained the excess liquid from the pudding mold, added 1 cup of flour or so to soak up what was left, and popped the pudding back in the pan to steam for another couple of hours. It tasted pretty good, but unmolding would have produced a mound of… something… not a lovely pudding.

Note to self: Next year smoosh the juice out. And the carrots could have been grated much, much smaller. Much. Just saying.

#1 Son & his scarf

#1 Son loved the veggie stew and the couscous. I think he had 3 helpings. It may have been four. He liked the touch of having a little goat cheese to sprinkle over the stew. I have no goat cheese left now.

I had picked up a loaf of bring-home-and-finish-the-baking bread — an olive Pugliese. #1 Son said, This is awesome bread!. I had two slices. There was none left at the end of the meal, so I guess he did like it quite a bit.

In other words, he, being still a teenager for a few more months at least, still eats like a teenager.

So desert, even though we waited a bit after the meal, was met with some feeling of detachment. But he liked the carrot pudding.

I did not confess the carrot pudding story to #1 Son. We’ll let that be our little secret, eh?

I sent him home with 1/2 of the leftover stew and couscous and an extra loaf of bread. He wandered the house for awhile looking for anything not-nailed-down that could accompany him home.

#1 Son, wandering around kitchen and poking into cupboards:Can I have this French press?
Mom, sitting in her chair and knitting:NO
#1 Son: You never let me take anything and you’re such a packrat.
Mom: NO
#1 Son: How about this Melitta drip coffee pot?
Mom: [sigh] OK
#1 Son: What do you use this for?
Mom: Put it back where you found it.

This picture was snapped just before he escaped with the goods left for the evening. You can see he is in a rather pensive, I suppose you have to take my picture… but I’m not going to smile mood. He would not pull the scarf out of his coat so I could get a decent shot of it, because this is the way they’re worn.

So… OK!

P.S. The snow is all gone. It was sure fun while it lasted, though!

yum

[ed. 12/25/2007 8:21 am] Thanks to everyone who left a suggestion for how to cook the carrot pudding. Yesterday I tried just one more gourmet kitchen shop, and they had pudding molds! Stay tuned. Film, as they say, at 11 (or so).

Since I became single again, Christmas traditions at Chez PI have been rather spotty. For the first several years, #1 Son spent Christmas with the sperm donor. #1 Son and I would have our Christmas on the day before. We did the tree and decorations and presents and such, but I didn’t usually cook what would be considered a traditional Christmas dinner, although I did cook a prime rib for New Year’s (I have an awesome butcher whose specially seasoned prime rib is simply amazing).

On Christmas – the actual day – my personal tradition was to clean my oven and go to a movie. Lest you feel sorry for me, I actually enjoyed every minute and looked forward to it as a break from the normal holiday madness.

Then came a year when #1 Son would be with me for Christmas from now on. Anything you’d like to do? I asked him. He suggested travel. I asked where. He suggested Las Vegas. And thus a new holiday tradition was born. We spent several Christmases in Vegas, had a wonderful time every year, and it was great.

This year there is no travel. #1 Son just came back from a 1-week tour of California and is leaving for 5 weeks on New Years Eve. He needs to work to earn a bit of spending money before he goes. I have time off, but don’t feel like going anyplace, what with his impending departure and all.

So I am cooking dinner, and that is a bit of a quandary.

I know what to cook for a traditional Christmas dinner. We were a Turkey at Christmas family. Or, I could pick up one of those awesome prime ribs.

But #1 Son is vegetarian.

I scratched my head and pondered for awhile over that one. I didn’t really want to fix all the trimmings and not the main dish. Eventually I settled on what I like to call a kitchen sink veggie stew, which contains all the veggies that looked good in the store the day I go shopping: Carrots, beans, corn, cabbage, russet potatoes, sweet potatoes, summer squash, winter squash, tomatoes, celery, etc. It always tastes good. And, being a stew, has the added advantage of being serving-time neutral. I can start it in the morning, and no matter what time we eat it will be OK. I could serve it with a raisin/nut couscous (5 minutes) and a good crusty bread.

But I did want something traditional. In my family, carrot pudding was the traditional Christmas dessert. It’s a steamed pudding, like plum pudding or spotted dick. I have the recipe that was passed down through the women in my family for well over 100 years. There have been few changes over the years. I do use margarine rather than suet (thus making it vegetarian safe), but that’s about it. It is, as I said, cooked by putting the batter in a mold, placing the mold in a large pan with water, and steaming in the oven for 4 hours or so. Grandma and Mama both used a coffee can for the mold, which worked quite well.

The coffee I drink does not come in cans. In fact, I’m not sure if any coffee comes in cans any more.

No problem, I thought. I’ll just pop over to the gourmet kitchen shop and pick up a real pudding mold, and won’t that be traditional and oh-so-cool!

At the first gourmet kitchen shop, I wandered around for awhile and didn’t find the pudding molds, so I stepped up to the counter.

Nice, teenage Christmas kitchen shop worker: May I help you find something?

Me: I hope so. I’m looking for a pudding mold.

NtCksw: Like a jello mold?

Me: No. A mold for steamed puddings. Do you know what that is?

NtCksw: I’m sure I’ve had one at some time. Could you just remind me?

Me: It’s a cake-type pudding that’s cooked by steaming in the oven in a mold. My mother used coffee cans.

NtCksw: We have asparagus steamers. Would that work?

Me: Thanks anyway.

At the second gourmet kitchen shop, I wandered around for awhile until a nice older woman who worked there asked if she could help me.

Me: I hope so. I’m looking for a pudding mold.

NOksw: I haven’t seen one of those for ages.

Me: Do you have anything that might work? My mother used coffee cans.

NOksw: We have asparagus steamers. Would that work?

At the third gourmet kitchen shop, I wandered around for awhile until a nice man who worked there asked if he could help me.

Me (having already cased the store pretty thoroughly): I doubt it, but thanks anyway.

After that, I did what I probably should have done in the first place. I came home and let my fingers do the virtual walking through the internet. I found a local gourmet kitchen shop whose online site showed a pudding mold. They weren’t sure if they had pudding molds actually in stock or not, but promised to look and call me back. They have not called.

So what do I do now? If I can’t find a pudding mold on Christmas Eve, how am I going to cook the darn thing? Do you think, gentle reader, that if I pour it into loaf pans for the steaming, it will cook correctly?

Today is Thanksgiving in the USA. This is a day when families and friends traditionally gather to celebrate together, eat turkey with all the trimmings (my family’s recipe for Candied Sweet Potatoes is over on the Freebies page), watch a game or two on TV, and be thankful.

Of course there are other traditions that are uniquely American — for readers outside the US, there’s probably a U-Tube video somewhere of how to make a hand print turkey…

And, if you are wondering what to do with all those leftovers, you are welcome to my recipe for Post-Thanksgiving Turkey Shepard’s Pie.

I try to start every day by calling to mind something that I am thankful for. I will admit that some days it’s not easy. But it’s good for me to remember that even when things look blackest there is usually something that makes me glad.

Today, I am thankful for many things:

#1 Son, you give me so much blog fodder! But I am so, so thankful that you are part of my life.

My family — wonderful, quirky individuals all. We are spread from coast to coast and do not see each other often enough. But I am so thankful to know that you are out there.

All of my friends. How could I ever get by without you? How blessed I am to have such good friends in my life.

My knit-buds and fellow knitsters and sisters/brothers of the fiber. Those at Tangle, who put up with a lot from yours truly. The PDX Knit Bloggers. (I can’t believe that the PDXKB has been a going concern for less than 6 months. I could swear I have known you all forever!) The wonderful knitters I have met at retreats this year. All of my friends (and I do count you as friends) who live far away but touch me through your blogs and through comments and emails. Knitting has brought such richness to my life.

And I am thankful also for the more mundane things: I have a good job that I almost always like, a nice roof over my head, food in the pantry, a warm bed to sleep in surrounded by my fur kids.

I’m thankful for the cat companions: for Phoebe who keeps me warm at night, for Kidd who is my special buddy (and a little wacko), for Moo Cow The Queen Of The House…

I am not thankful when Moo eats my yarn, or the leaves off my silk plants. I do have to draw the line somewhere.

I hope that your Thanksgiving Day — even if you are not celebrating it — is wonderful and warm and filled with many things to be thankful for.

rose down

I do feel sorry for the weatherpeople in the Northwest. It’s hard to predict our weather. It comes down from Alaska and up from California and across from Hawaii and sometimes all of those at once. On the east coast they have plenty of time to watch the weather as it crosses the nation and have a good idea of what it will actually be when it gets there.

Sunday the weatherguy (station will remain nameless) said that we would have a storm on Monday, and it would be a little windy, but not really that bad. Maybe gusts of 20 MPH or so.

Yeah. Right.

I worked from home on Monday. As I typed away on my computer back in the back corner bedroom, I heard the wind pick up. Pretty soon it was howling around the house. Then I heard…

swish swish swwwwiiiisssshhhh creek creek CREEEK WHACK WHACK WHACK BANG

OMG, WTF! I said, and other expletives that will remain deleted on this usually family-friendly little space. I ran to the window.

For the last 10 years, a willow arch has framed the entrance to the back yard at the corner of the house. A Climbing Iceberg rose grew on it.

Note, gentle reader, that I am using past tense.

I tried to lift the arch back up, but it is old and came apart in my hands. I stood in the rain and wind and mourned my rose, that had snapped off at the base. It was lovely — but did sort of grab people going through the arch. It was… friendly.

I came back inside and called my yard guy.

Brett, you know that clean-up you are coming to do tomorrow? Yeah… I have a little extra clean-up that’s needed this year.

I have finished the shell edging on The Great Green Glob. You know how I was looking forward to the I-cord? Now that I’m there… not so much. This is going to be a slog. But I will persevere!

Confidential to Bobbie: If I knit your top-down raglan pattern from my coned yarn, I’d probably just end up giving it to someone like Chrispy. 😈

tree planting

Yesterday morning a tree was planted in my Father-In-Law’s memory by the 10th Mountain Division Association. I managed to snap a picture with my cell phone of my Mother-In-Law wielding a shovel before I picked up my own shovel and started planting. (sorry for the craptacular photo. My cell phone has a horrible camera. Even with much Photoshop tweaking, this is the best I could get it.)

Barney loved to ski and loved quaking aspens. I share the latter fondness. Aspens have been one of my favorite trees since I was a little girl. They would turn such gorgeous colors in the hills during the autumn. And I just love their rustle and the dance of their leaves in the breeze. But I digress…

Ordinarily one tree is planted for each of the honorees. But there were two aspens for Barney — a larger one, and a tiny little one-foot baby. (You can just make out the baby in the lower left of the picture.) Barney, we were told, loved to ski in Colorado way back when. There were many aspen trees, and he had to ski between them, which he thought was lots of fun. So the two little trees were planted side by side. So Barney can ski between them.

It was a lovely ceremony on a beautiful, perfect fall day — the kind of day we’re supposed to have here in October.

happy iPod sock recipient

And, lest you think I’ve been idle on the knitting front while PI did the yoyo server thing, I have actually been knitting up a virtual little storm.

OK… a small storm.

A colleague at work saw my little iPod Nano sock and wanted one. I had a couple of long teleconferences on Thursday. Voila: iPod sock and happy recipient.

I used the Claudia Handpainted Sport Short in Boot Camp that was part of the goody bag at the Floating Knitting Retreat. That was wonderful yarn to knit with — soft and smooshy and great color. The requestee had asked for something that went with black, and camo fits the bill fairly well, I think. It’s a stealth Nano!

I’ve also been frantically knitting away on the second Babies & Bears sweater, which pretty much needs to be finished… today. Eek! 😯

Must keep knitting, must keep knitting…

we have heel

After a little knitting, a little frogging, a little more knitting, etc., I have a heel I’m happy with. The socks still look pretty strange off the needles, but you can see that this one, at least, fits my foot pretty well. I’m assuming that the other one will, too, since the socks are the same size and my feet are at least close. But one never knows, eh?

As soon as I get the heels finished, I’ll start adding in a few beads. I really didn’t want beads inside my shoes, as that didn’t sound too comfortable. So I decided to put beads only on the ankles. I tried a few bead placements yesterday. I think less is going to be more where these socks are concerned. Some socks I would bead all over the place. But these already have a lot going on. I think just a few beads worked into the lace band will be an ample sufficiency. I have some lovely square beads that will be perfect.

Thanks to those of you who commented on my Hat Theory. With our little totally unscientific study, the phenomenon seems widely enough known, even to our friends in the North, that it must be fairly common. Hopefully I will not have any Hats making me late today.

Today I will blame the rain.

Rain has returned in spades to the Pacific Northwest. And it’s cold. I’ve been wearing wool socks all week. Not that I mind doing that, you understand. But I’m not ready for winter. It seems like we barely had summer. My vines produced a bumper crop of grapes this year, but few of them have ripened. If it rains too hard, the remaining ones will just get knocked off. The local raccoons will appreciate that. But I will not.

Speaking of local wildlife, there were some stories on the local news last week about a family of coyotes not too far from my area. Apparently the reporters are surprised to learn that coyotes can be fairly urban animals. I wasn’t surprised, having had one run through my back yard last year when the fence was down, and having listened to their music for many years. I like sharing my world. The reporters tried to drum up some OMG our pets and children may be in danger!!!!! frenzy. But fortunately most of the people they interviewed seemed very live and let live and aware that the coyotes were not much danger to we civilized animals.

Lately I’ve been hearing an owl hoot at night. It’s a lonely but lovely sound in the wee hours.

I am not ready for winter.