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Baking with Stabby Croissant shopping list reminder!

Hey all you bakers and baker-wannabes!!  Quick reminder for you to brave the grocery store today and get 2 pounds of flour (!), eggs, milk, sugar, and butter (I get the Kerrygold UNsalted – it’s freaking delicious).  Then find a big mixing bowl and your rolling pin, and a couple of cookie sheets.  Oh, and make sure you have saran wrap.  That’s it! Oh wait, if you want filled, get some jams or whatever.  Don’t get the cheap crap, get something a bit pricey that has sugar and not HFCS.

Croissant is not that difficult, but it is time-consuming and a little bit moody depending on the weather.  Those of us in Cali are going to have a time of it I tell you, what with all the rain.

So tune in tomorrow at around noon-ish pacific time.  I’ll be sortof liveblogging the prep with cell phone pics of the mess.  You can post your questions in the comments and I’ll do my best to help you through.  The full recipe is down the main page if you lost it.

Come bake with Stabby!  Your xmas dinner will thank you.

My fetish for cookware

After spending the last 6 years of my adult life using the Farberware my parents got for their wedding as my cookware I finally decided to by my own pots and pans. Morale at the Firm has been pretty low this year (we had layoffs last year and it wasn’t handled well) so they decided to throw money at us this Christmas to make us happy again. I decided spending some of that money on beautiful French copper pots & pans would ease the pain.

I was right. Good lord I love this cookware. Mauviel – hand made in France by the same family for 130 years – a brilliant copper sheen glowing in my cupboards.

I would probably have sex with it if that were physically possible.

Stay tuned for a regular cooking post featuring the best my kitchen has to offer!

Redemption at the Freaking Happiest Place on Earth

So, if you trudged through my rant from earlier this week, you know I had a crap day at Disney World. Boo-de-freaking-hoo. I know. Get over it, Ms. A.

But if you hung in with me and indulged my complaining, I wanted to reward you with a little feel good update: Friday was great. Perfect weather, fun day, wishes and dreams fulfilled. Little A’s highlight? Seeing me drenched on Splash Mountain: “Look at her – she is totally wet!  She got soaked!” She giggled so hard –  while trying to get other riders and park attendants to join in the hilarity – that other people started laughing, too. I guess when you are five, seeing your mother looking nonplussed and dripping wet is the height of comedy.  Too bad I couldn’t have fallen into the water while trying to exit the log, too. She would have been in heaven. We had one of those really great days that don’t happen often enough, but are all the more special for their rarity.  We left that night under the lights of Main Street, manufactured snow falling from the Florida sky, feeling like it was the happiest place on Earth.

An Open Letter To Motherfucking Humbugs

Cindy Lou Who

I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess you’re feeling pretty stressed out. You’re probably reading this and tracking some motherfucking holiday packages via UPS in another tab, drinking some cold-ass coffee, and hating life right now.
‘I hate the holidays’, you’ll tell your coworkers over some stale, store-bought cookies in the break room. You’ll probably spend some time fantasizing about missing your flight home and instead spending the weekend toward the bottom of a bottle of middle-shelf gin and watching Die Hard, wrapped in last year’s unfortunate Snuggie. I get it, man. I do.

But let me tell you something. The holidays? They’re fucking AWESOME. And you need to pull your head out of your ass and look around, because you’re missing out. Here’s why:

Lights and decorations and shit. Have you looked at these things lately? Not from the top of a rickety ladder you borrowed from the in-laws, clutching a staple gun and freezing your ass off. Go pile your annoying kids in the car, drive through the fucking Tim Horton’s and get yourself a peppermint hot cocoa, and drive through some big-ass festive neighborhoods. Appreciate the work that went into that shit. I don’t care if you have to pretend it’s Laser Floyd, take a minute and really look around. Your kids will probably like this, too.

Christmas carols. Bing Crosby is the man. I don’t care who you are, his rendition of White Christmas will have you shitting candy canes. Almost every version of Carol of the Bells is fucking metal, even sung by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. And don’t even get me started on Vince Guaraldi’s A Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack. All that tree needed was a little love! Shit.

Presents. No, you greedy asshole – buying other people presents. Thoughtful presents. Sure, it’s great getting that brand-new fancy Betamax player or a swell pair of tropical-printed Jams, but the look on a kid’s face when they open up the lead-encrusted plastic cartoon gewgaw they so desperately coveted? Oh, it’ll melt your damn heart. Yes, even yours. Put down the clearance travel mug and try harder. Do it for love. Or, do it to one-up cocky old Aunt Maureen. I don’t care, but they will.

It’s a Wonderful Life. Hope you’ve got a full box of tissues, loser! This one never fails. Zuzu’s petals! Shit, I’m tearing up. I’m ok, I’m ok.

Hot motherfucking cocoa. I’m drinking one now, bitches, and it’s good.

Remember, if you’ve given this whole thing an honest try and you’re still grinchier than a Gosselin on a camping trip, there’s always New Year’s Eve. Take two Xanax, two bottles of champagne, one regrettable hookup, and a walk of shame, and call me in the morning.
There’s always next year.

Gawkerdating Missed Connection

It all started when I was walking around Iceland, minding my own business. Suddenly, a tall skinny guy with white hair and a funny foreign accent came up to me and complimented my lips. I was overwhelmed with our instant chemistry and so I kissed him! Right there in the street! On the lips!

Then we went back to his place (it was kinda weird and remote, just like him – swooooon!) and had silent but passionate sex. When I woke he was gone, but there was an email from him on my blackberry! He missed me! But he had to leave because apparently he’s bringing down the oligarchical New World Order, or something? I don’t know, he wasn’t really clear on that. It seems very hush-hush.

Anyway. I don’t really know where we stand now because I just saw him on tv from London. He seems busy these days. I didn’t get any emails at all from him for the last three weeks. Hopefully now that he’s out he’ll email me again, but like I said, he seems busy. I may fly to Sweden though and try to catch up with him there. I hear he may be going there for business.

Well, if you made it this far, thanks for reading. I’ll keep you posted, and wish me luck! I really like this guy, he seems like a keeper.

Love, Codename:Stabby

Fartin’ Around with Ruby

Hi fans and Dawgz!!  Well, it’s raining today so no rompies 🙁  But here is a picture of me from a few days ago.

We went rompies yesterday and it was awesome!  First, we got there and Codename:Stabby realized that I got into the car naked and did not have on my collar or leash, so we almost had to go home, which was not awesome.  But a nice fit runner lady in the car next to us heard Codename:Stabby’s swears as she looked for the spare leash and gave us a rope which I used as a leash.  Rompie saved!!  On rompies we met a Forest Department guy in a truck and he told me that I am awesome, so that was pretty good.  Then we went back to the car and drove back to town and did some errands and went home.  Then I ate and went to sleep.

All in all it was a good day.  Toes crossed that we get some rompies this weekend!

Whine? No, Wine!

Ms Stabby claims she buys wine by the label.  Ms Stabby, you are a marketer’s dream.  However, I suspect a fair number of people out there do the same.  I have been known to give a wine a shot if the label amuses me as well.  Most of the time I regret it (like you Cupcake!), but I have found a few gems over the years.  I aim to write a weekly column on wine to share my knowledge gained over the years of excessive drinking.  Maybe I’ll throw in some recipes down the road once I educate you Franzia loving goofballs on how to avoid swill.

I’m going to start off this week with one of my favorite red varietals:  Pinot Noir. The Dean of American Winemakers, Andre Tchelistcheff, once said: “God made Cabernet Sauvignon whereas the devil made Pinot Noir.” That is because the Pinot Noir grape is a damn difficult grape to grow, let alone grow well.  It is prone to various rots and mildews and does best in cooler climates with chalky clay soils.  For the vine to produce delicious wine, it must be very low yielding; that is why it is hard to find a good cheap Pinot Noir.  The Pinot vine requires a lot of hand holding with regards to pruning – it is much like an insecure, high-maintenance girlfriend – it needs lots of attention. The grapes are in tight clusters, very dark and shaped like a pine cone.  The wine color should be a very deep garnet color, a hint of brown is acceptable.

So let’s chat a moment about where this finicky bitch grows well.  In Europe you can find some damn fine Pinots in France, particularly the Burgundy region.  However, I am most partial to the Red Sancerre grown in the Loire valley.  If you can ever get your paws on Red Sancerre, back up the truck and load up.  It is pricey, but it is a fabulous red wine that you serve slightly chilled and great to drink in summer.  You can also find some very respectable and well-priced Pinots in Marlborough New Zealand and Tasmania.  Italy also has some Pinots but I think they suck.  In the US, Pinot Noir Nirvana is in Oregon, particularly Willamette Valley.  Please note it is pronounced thusly:  Wi-LAM-it.  Please don’t be a tool and pronounce it WIL-a-mette.  2008 was the best year in history for Willamette Pinots.  Try to get those if you can.  California’s Russian River Valley, Sonoma Coast and Santa Rita Hills (in Santa Barbara) also make some nice Pinot Noirs.  If you find a pinot from pretty much anywhere else, ignore it.  It probably is awful.

Ok, now you know a bit about the grape and where it grows well.  Let’s talk turkey about which ones are fabulous and at what price points.  You can always get a great bottle of wine for $50 at your wine shop, but who wants to pop a $50 bottle on a Tuesday?  Not me.  So below is a smattering of Pinots I like, a tasting note or two on them and what they cost.   Finding a Pinot under $15 of quality is a challenge, but it can be done.  Note, I’m not putting down the vintage on most as I’m choosing wines that have been fairly consistent year over year.  Trying to keep it simple.

$10 and under bunch:

 

 Block Nine Pinot Noir: I just had this at my neighborhood Xmas party.  Great wine.  Bright berry fruit a bit of cocoa.  Good body with a slight oakiness and wonderful full mouthfeel.  Ms Stabby, it has a pretty label — but I like simple labels.

 

 

Bogle California Pinot Noir:  There is some nice Russian River Valley fruit in these Pinot so that helps it out tremendously.  This wine is a bit herbaceous (green tasting), strawberry and cherry.  Finish is long and silky with some oakiness.

Castle Rock Willamette Pinot Noir (only had 2008): This is really one of the few Willamette’s at this price point and it is 2008!  Good every day pinot with cherry and spice, bit of oak and floral notes.  Nice velvety finish.

 

 

$10-$15 range

Crossings Pinot Noir Marlborough New Zealand (only tried 2008):  Macerated black cherry is very up front in both taste and smell. Very chewy tannins and by that I mean heavy – worth opening up for ½ hour + before quaffing or use one of those aerators.  Blackberry in the finish.

 

The Rhone Gang Pinot Noir and Grenache “Le Hold-up No. 08”:  I liked this wine for a couple reasons.  First of all it is unique – this is a Rhone meets Burgundy battle of the wines where we all win. 70% Pinot Noir 30% Grenache this baby was aged in stainless steel tanks.  No oak taste here.  Lots of fruit and bright clean finish.  And it is a screw top!  I love screw tops.  They are like miniskirts – easy access.

 

 

42 Degrees South (Frogmore Creek) Pinot Noir Tasmania:  Completely hand picked grapes in Tasmania give this vino a big red cherry and black current nose and taste.  Tannins are integrated (that means it isn’t as heavy tasting – not as much ‘dirt’ taste) and a nice finish.

 

 

 

 

$15-$25 range
M by Martellotto Pinot Noir Willamette Valley:  Full disclosure – I sell this wine so I am a bit biased.  However, I really do love this wine.  The 2008 vintage is fabulous and I highly recommend you grabbing it if you can get it.  Grown sustainably, it is a wine with lots of berry up front, bit of spice, touch of oakiness and a long finish.  Tannins are easy on the mouth.  This is a wine that you can eat with or without food — an easy drinking wine.  Not heavy, but elegant. Only 2250 bottles produced.

 

A to Z Oregon Pinot Noir:  90 Points from Wine Spectator.  This should be readily available all across the country.  It needs a bit of air before you drink it or you will miss the raspberry and cherry bomb of flavor up front.  Bit of pepper in there too.  Lighter bodied, less tannic but a nice finish.

 

 

Franck Millet Sancerre Rouge:  YES!!!!  Sancerre Rouge is delicious.  Nice nose of cherries and violets.  Big fruit/berry taste, some tannins but not too much.  Serve this baby slightly chilled and you will love me for it. (Sorry no label!)

Walnut City Wineworks Pinot Noir Reserve Willamette Valley:  Ok, another one I sell, but this is exceptional.  If a wine could be the embodiment of elegance this is it.  Walnut City Wineworks are sustainably grown wines from a couple of former Dead Heads.  They are artisan farmers more than anything else.  Big berry and cherry nose and taste up front. Middle and finish are smooth with a bit of tannins, chocolate, spice, lavender and smoke. This is really the standard by which Willamette Pinots should be measured. (There is a non-reserve, but this is so much better)

$25+  (Big range in price here)

Twomey Cellars by Silver Oak Russian River Pinot Noir (I’ve only had the 2007): –90 point wine and it should be because it is pricey.  Lots of berry, rose petals, dried cherries, and cinnamon.  Velvety finish, full body. Awesome.

 

 

 

 

Domaine Serene Yamhill Cuvee Willamette Pinot Noir: Robert Parker rated the 2007 90 points.  This is one big ass wine.  Bing cherries, pomegranate, cola and berries.  French oak and nice tannins round out this wine.  Delicious.

 

 

 

 

 

2005 Nuits St George Murgers Bertagna – This is a wine you save for when you inherit some wealth, get engaged or get access to a nice expense account. (It runs about $115+ and is hard to find).  It is hard to describe how tasty this wine is.  It is everything a Burgundy should be.  Delicious berry and cherry notes, spicy middle, rich and full despite the tannins being a bit subdued.  Oh my God, I love this wine.

In general, the US and New Zealand wines don’t age as well as the Burgundies.  I wouldn’t, in general, buy a Pinot Noir earlier than a 2006 vintage that is from the US or New Zealand, whereas I’d happily buy some in the early 2000’s from Burgundy.

What if you cannot find this at your local wine shop?  I’m a huge purchaser of wines on the internet.  You can get great deals on more expensive wines, even with shipping costs, as tax is eliminated in most states.  Here are a few of my favorite internet purveyors:

www.bighammerwines.com

www.klwines.com

www.zachys.com (Although it will not be tax free in NY as they are in Scarsdale.  Shipping is free though in NYC, Westchester and lower CT)

Any questions about what any of these terms mean, feel free to ask.  Next week, I’ll probably do Cabernet but I am open to suggestions.

Gawker Dating, Part IV: Continuing the “To Do” List

See what I did there? I used “To Do” which is sort of a generic errand list headline and appropriated it for Gawker dating because these are also people that I would “do” under the right circumstances, in this case “do” implying “have dirty sex with,” because “do” is often used as…what’s that? Get the hell on with it because no one cares what I have to say and everyone just wants to see the pretty people? All right then. Ungrateful bastards. Continue reading

The Freaking Happiest Place on Earth

Tonight, as I sunk into a steamy, near-scalding bath, I cursed myself for planning this vacation. I must have been feverish when I browsed online travel packages at Orbitz and Expedia. I must have been in the throws of delirium when I breathlessly talked my unwitting husband into “five days at Disney – for a pittance – really, a trifle!”

Somehow, I’d forgotten how much I hate being in a sea of people, how weirdly germ-phobic I get at theme parks (I am convinced that I would be able to see the collected amalgamation of germs and bacteria on the hand rails that divide the cattle lines IF ONLY DISNEY WOULD TURN UP THE DAMN LIGHTS. How do all the tottering grandparents see where the hell they are shuffling?) and how much I really, really hate Disney for how aggressively they market to children.  I also forgot how child-like my husband becomes in these situations. He is not a childish person, but when forced into situations like this, with little hope of escape, he cycles between petulant, needy, and exasperated. “Do you have any gum?” he asks, huffy and expectant as a teenager as I riffle through my bag. Engrossed in the work email he can’t help but read and respond to, he wanders off in the wrong direction while typing missives on his phone, forgets where we’ve left the stroller that Little A must have because her “feet hurrrrrt,” and sighs dramatically at every sign posting the wait time for every ride.  In this relationship, I usually own the sarcasm, but enforced enthusiasm brings it out in him: “Oh, you’re hungry? Well, I spilled mustard all over my jacket and my sweater. You could lick that off. It should tide you over until we can find something to eat.”

I should have known the vacation was going to be a disaster when we told Little A that we were going to Disney World.  Last week, when we told her, she cried. Not tears of joy, but bitter, spoiled tears. “I don’t want to go! I’ve already been there! I don’t need to go again! Your plan to surprise me has been crushed!”

I should have transferred the vacation plans right then. I should have called my desperate to babysit in-laws and asked them to take her for a week while my husband and I went to Key West or visited friends in New York or spent a week anywhere but here. But I didn’t. I powered through, plowed ahead, bound and determined to have a good freaking time regardless of all the signs in the universe and tears of my child telling me not to do it.

I’d just taken her last spring, for one whirlwind day while my husband had a business meeting in another part of Florida. She and I had a lovely day at the park. I’d packed my bright orange carry everything bag well, prepped my child well, had a specific budget and a plan, and I stuck to it. Little A had a plan for that day, too, and it involved a princess makeover at Disney’s on-site salon (and by “salon” I mean child beauty pageant warm-up station). Although it went against every fiber of my being, I let her do it. When she emerged from the salon, she was delighted by her glitter-encrusted princess bun and loved her purple eyeshadow and red lip gloss. At least she chose to dress like Belle because, according to Little A, “she’s smart and loves to read.”

All day, she was fawned over by park staff and complimented by strangers (child beauty pageant approving strangers, I assumed). She screamed with delight on the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad ride, dashed through the Pirates of the Caribbean line to squeeze in a second ride before the park closed, and cheered during the fireworks display over Cinderella’s castle at the end of the night. “Momma, all my dreams came true today,” she said as we made our way out of the park.

It was too good. I shouldn’t have messed with it, but I did. One great day was not enough. No! Daddy was busy last time and missed it! We should go as a family, share the magic, blah de freaking blah. Why can’t I ever just leave damn well enough alone?

I try to laugh in the face of adversity, even my own homemade variety, but instead, today, I whined, grumbled, cajoled, and hand-sanitized my way through the happiest place on Earth. As I soaked away the pain (and croup germs some little weasely toddler spewed in my direction), I felt a bit better. I made it through, a little battered and bruised, vowing never to come here again.

Of course, we are going back on Friday, for one last day. I mean, while we’re here, we might as well…

Gawker Dating, Part III: If Only Things Were Different

You know how sometimes you find that perfect guy, but he’s 52, gay, and lives in Hawaii and you’re 24, straight, and live with your parents in Hoboken? Well, compound that by like a million and that’s what it’s like to look at GawkerDating as a Married. Because it’s more than reading a post and getting to that point where you see that the sexual orientations or locations don’t match up; it’s reading a post and seeing that even if everything matches up, it really doesn’t matter, and all you can do is make a creepy comment about the softness of some guy’s hair or excellence of some girl’s rack. Which isn’t to say that you (OK, we) want it to matter, but it feels like it should, like everyone should be able to get in on the fun equally, up until you send a picture of yourself to someone who decides you’re not hot and stops returning your PMs. Because isn’t that what life and love are all about? Continue reading