11 posts tagged “cairn terrier”
Now that I read the morning paper at the dining room table like a) a normal person b) a person of leisure, Ciara has taken to joining me on a nearby chair. Largely, I sense, because my leftover food sits waiting for the sink and she's hoping to get involved before that happens.
The paws over the edge of the chair kill me.
Am I the only one who thinks my dog's legs, crossed daintily in the back as she gnaws on a rawhide chew up front, are the most adorable/funniest things in the world?
Probably. They won't make it on Cute Overload, I'm sure, but they're just darlin' to me.
Had me a slice o' cupcake tonight.
Now, that's not being overly frugal or diet-conscious. Thanks to Williams-Sonoma's Great Cupcake Pan, the entire world I knew before this weekend has been completely upended.
On the one hand, cupcakes are meant to be small. Portable. Snacky.
On the other, for cupcake freaks like myself, who carry buttons that read "Make Cupcakes Not War," this thing was too good to be missed. Because the only thing better than the shrinking of something from its normal size is the embiggening of something meant to be small into an oversize.
I saw this in WS a few weeks back and it really never left my mind; after a doctor's appointment last week, I just had to go get it. And this weekend, I did two things I'd never done before: I made a giant cupcake, and I made it from scratch (the recipe came with the pan). Here's how it all went down.
The pan itself is described on the Web site thusly: "Our pan creates a cupcake of Dr. Seuss proportions (an impressive 6" high and 7" across) that lends itself to fanciful decorations. The pan consists of top and bottom pieces that can be baked in two different flavors and frosted."
Now, as you can see by the photo on the top, this isn't quite true: The top is meant to be frosted, while the bottom kind of goes naked. (Until WS comes out with Great Cupcake Pan liners, that is.) This makes for a nice picture, but an odd ratio of frosting to cake.
Additionally, the cake pan comes as you see here. There's no lid to keep the insides from getting dusty or what have you; the only "cover" is the cardboard fitted paper that it comes with, which you actually need to keep -- it's got instructions on how to use the pan, as well as the from-scratch recipe I used, and the from-scratch buttercream frosting recipe I didn't use. (I am just not a buttercream fan.) The cardboard has that semi-removable factory glue on it which fits on the widest empty parts of the pan, and is not very reusable -- despite the need to reuse it for many things.
But on to the recipe. Your usual cake recipe: Flour, butter, eggs, sugar, vanilla, salt. Not cheap in this economy, but what the hell, I thought if you're going to do a test cake, may as well do what they tell you. I didn't have a sifter, but online told me I could whisk through the salt/sugar/flour combination with the same efficacy, and I didn't have special attachments on my beater. Still, all seemed right and the cake batter tasted fine, if a bit salty, when it was ready for pourin'.
The recipe says fill the containers up to within a half inch, and make the center a little lower than the sides. Since this stuff had the viscosity of, well, cake batter you tell me how you're supposed to do that. Nevertheless, in the oven it went, presenting problem No. 2: The swirly part of the cake ends on a pointed tip. Tips don't balance well on racks in the oven. I tried finding a good cross-joint to rest it on and let it be, but ultimately there was some tippage and the cake overgrew its space a little lopsidedly.
Also, the recipe said bake for up to 80 minutes; I did 70 and here's what it looked like (see side). A little browner and crispier on the exterior than the photo leads you to believe, but that could be attributable to the oven, so next time: 60 minutes and we'll see.
Mistake on my part: Although the recipe says to lop off the extra on the top of the swirly, it does not say you should do so on the bottom half of the cake, but I did it anyway. Reason for leaving the bottom half of the cake alone? Because the swirly top doesn't neatly fit over the bottom. Which is only obvious once you go to frost.
Taste? Dense, but excellent, not too salty at all. And by dense, I mean this is a real Glass of Milk kind of cake; you'll choke if you try to down it without any assistance.
I let it sit for two hours (more really) to cool down, and when I brought it out the next day for the frosting from its Tupperware home, it just smelled amazing. Still moist and lovely and sweet.
And thar she blows.
Presumably if the bottom of the cake hasn't been overcooked, pairing it with chocolate frosting won't make it so uniform looking, but therein lies another hazard: I don't know what kind of frosting they used in the photo, but frosting just does not adhere to the swirls in the top like it does up there. I mean, you still have a nice cupcake shape, but the beautifully smooth swirls get lost in the covering; this isn't even a very deep frosting.
So I put some sprinkles on to liven it up and added a cherry. Leading to a an aerial view of the cake which looks a little ... um ... salacious.
Right.
Needless to say, it was eminently slice-able, leading to my having a big glass of milk along with my slice o' cupcake tonight. And as someone who actually likes the burnt potato chips, the crispier edges of the cake were a bonus.
Overall, it was an easy recipe to make, and the use of the pan was certainly simple, but it's far from perfect. Maybe just a little more practice?
Oh, and wait, the Web site has one other idea:
"The pan can also be used to create an ice cream cake: in one side of the pan, bake the cake's bottom, then freeze ice cream in the other side to create the top."
Oh, my word.
Overall appearance: 9 of 10
Packaging: 4 of 10
Accuracy of instructions: 7 of 10
Milk requirement: Absolutely
Yummy factor: 8 of 10
Arrr, she is a fine tradition we have here in Jackson Heights: The cutting of the hair of the dog.
Just in time for the temps to hit 100, Ciara got herself all shaved off on Friday after almost a year without a groom. (I know, I know, but it's more than I pay for my own haircuts and I've learned to trim her toenails so sue me!) Rainbow Pet Supplies did a nice job, if you're in the market in the Queens area.
Here she is, all fresh and clean and wide-eyed.
For reference, this is Ciara after her first "cut it all off" grooming in June 2003, and I think we've come a long way, baby:
By the way, folks? It's goddamned hot here in New York.
I have quadrupled (maybe more) my YouTube content. This be Ciara my crazy, sock-lovin' cairn.
I've got a few other shorties up there now, too, just click over here. Looking to pare down my extensive video collection to include some of my favorite clips over the next few weeks, just to contribute to the collective video consciousness. I'm like that, y'see.
Enjoy!
I've been working on a Dia de los Muertos skull pinata for Saturday's party. It's a paper mache thing, and it's still got the balloon inside keeping it filled, so I dangle it upside down while it's drying from the latest coat of gluewater.
Ciara has finally taken notice.
You can't tell it from the video, but she was low-growling at it most of the evening, and making little soft whoofy noises at it. This from a dog that never does that kind of thing.
I call that an effective Halloween device, if it's not even done and it's scaring the pets.
A lovely, perfect day on the isle of Manhattan.
A lovely, perfect day that was a wee bit windy, so all the seed pouches flew from the trees making beige-colored snow against the blue, blue sky.
Here's what's great about good things coming together at once:
I left my cell phone at home. Since I was meeting up with Mike and we usually have reason to touch base with said phone, I wasn't sure if this was going to be a disaster. Fortunately, we were meeting up outside the big deity-like glass box on 5th Avenue known as the Apple store. You can almost hear the angels weep when you go inside: It's clean, it's functional, it's friendly and it has the best computers known to man all over the insides. And they're on. And they're hooked up to the Net. There are even low benches with soft seats for children to hook up. It is just marvelous.
(My Dell computer is frowning at me with all the bytes it can muster. Yes, there is cognitive dissonance here.)
Anyway: I get on the Net and check my address book on Earthlink. Nope, didn't save his number there. No point in sending an email, as he's probably on his way. I need to text the man, and I need to do it without having his number or a cell phone. What to do?
Head over to his LiveJournal account, that's what. Because you can text people now by just typing in the message and hitting "send."
The Internets+AppleStore+LiveJournal = A lovely future on a lovely day.
The downside -- it took two hours for the text to arrive, long after it was necessary. But it is nice to know that it's there if needed, if a little slow.
The rest of this very lovely day included: amazing gelato (and it had better be amazing if you wait in line for an hour for it) at the new Grom; the view off of the top of Belvedere Castle; petting another cairn terrier (this one also chunky, named Sam); seeing a woman with orange-and-yellow-and-red curly dreads; and lots and lots of cheese at a new restaurant I'd never heard of and whose name now escapes (oh, wait, it's Casellula, which I'm told means "cheese hut" or something approximate -- it was marvelous, and it has a dish called "Pig's Ass," which makes me love it lots). And, of course, lots of hand-holding and nice things of that order. Squee!
Oh! And the NBC folks renewed "Law & Order," which is officially hanging by its fingernails. But I care not, the show, it goes on. You can't kill the machine.
Must go. Dog is whining. Not from being hungry. From being too lame to fetch her own ball, which has rolled behind a cabinet door.
Dog: WOE.
Me: You are very lame. But I will help.
Dog: I love you. Ballballballballballball.....
Ciara does a happy dance when her food is coming. Her two front paws literally bounce up and down as she pants and worships the coming Science Diet chunks. You can almost hear her wanting to do a Snoopy and sing "Suppertime." And five minutes later, it's as if she hasn't been fed in a week. A week, I tell you! How cruel! I'm so pleased someone has finally generated a translation.Dog: I am starving.
Me: Actually, no. You aren't starving. You get two very good meals a day. And treats. And Best Beloved fed you extra food while I was gone.
Dog: STARVING.
Me: I saw you get fed not four hours ago! You are not starving.
Dog: Pity me, a sad and tragic creature, for I can barely walk, I am so starving. WOE.
Me: I am now ignoring you.
Dog: STARVING.
Dog: Did you hear me? I am starving.
Dog: Are you seriously ignoring me? Fine.
Go to the link and read on, but don't have anything in your mouth when you do. It'll get all over your computer screen.
Cleaning egg off of the ceiling fan.
I'll save you a lot of time, in case you were thinking of experimenting:
If you leave eggs to boil and don't come back for an hour, they will look like this.
I left mine for what I thought would be ten minutes, got caught up on the computer (damn you, Virtual Villagers II!) and very shortly -- or not, as the case was -- thereafter, heard some odd shifting noises. At first I figured the dishes in the drying rack were settling, which happens.
And then I heard a distinctly non-dish noise. An ... wait for it ... eggsplosion. It really was a popping sound, and I thought, crap, someone's in the apartment. But what I learned was that the dog seems to know when it's a people noise versus a thing noise, and she could give a crap about thing noises, unless they're immediately next to her. She didn't move a hair. So I got up to investigate and remembered the eggs.
Some egg got on the window, some on the ceiling. And some on the ceiling fan. To say nothing of the floor, the stove, the countertop.
The ones I could save, I did; a little blackened shell gives them a, well, Cajun appeal. Or not. Anyway, I hate wasting food.
I feel like karma is working against me; had I been on that Delta flight I'd have been in Austin, not cooking eggs. And not bashing my left second-to-smallest toe in vaulting over the dog gate. That hurt like a mother this morning, and now the toe -- which flexes and otherwise doesn't seem broken -- is several nasty shades of brown and purple.
The good thing to come out of the eggsplosion? Well, there are two.
No. 1
I had this thought process going (because this egg thing has happened before, just not nearly so spectacularly):
Gosh, I should remember when I put the eggs in better.
Gee, I should watch the clock.
If only I had a timer.
Oh, right, a kitchen timer!
No, you moron: An egg timer.
This thought process is similar to the one I had in finally connecting the long-uttered phrase of my youth "this house is like Grand Central Station!" with the actual locale which was, in fact, as busy as Grand Central Station (or Terminal, for literalists).
And No. 2
The leftover egg yolks went directly into my organic, four-legged disposal. So the dog was happy.
