Inspired by the recipes and links that I've seen floating around, I made a batch of marshmallows last weekend. I used the plain vanilla version available in the .pdf here -- it gives instructions for a half batch, which certainly made more than enough marshmallows for two people, and also contains nicely detailed instructions, such as well-placed reminders not to stir the bubbling mixture on your stove while every cooking instinct that you might have is telling you otherwise. They're also fun to make -- the mixed-up marshmallow is one of the most perniciously sticky substances known to man, and I've had run-ins with some demoniacally sticky bread dough in my past. Unlike bread dough, however, it's water soluble and easy to clean up.
They were pretty damn good. The only reason why I wouldn't qualify them with a higher superlative -- awesome, mind-blowing, etc. -- is because I dusted them too liberally with powdered sugar to stop them from sticking together, and I've found in the past that large amounts of store-brand powdered sugar can leave a funny aftertaste. Where these marshmallows really excel, though, is toasting over an open flame -- free of the preservatives of their store-bought brethren, the homemade marshmallows quickly acquire a bubbly, shiny, almost creme-brulé-style caramelized crust while the inside turns remarkably smooth and liquidy. So, a note of my plans for future marshmallows:
- Strawberry or raspberry, dipped in chocolate (what else?)
- Toasted and made into s'mores
- After reading this review: caramel-coated!
Maybe next time I'll make a full batch, too, just so we don't eat them all before I think to take photos.
Surprisingly not half-assed.
Materials: Oh, God. What didn't I have to buy for this, besides the sewing machine? Pattern is from Quilting for Dummies (Okay, I didn't buy the book, either -- it's from the library.)Time: One month
Cost: Argh! Curse you, JoAnn Fabrics! You have put me $100 in debt for all of your overpriced notions! (I found out, after shelling out an arm and a leg for supplies, that Wal-Mart sells exactly the same stuff for much cheaper.)
So here's the thing: I have a nice sewing machine. A really nice sewing machine, because my mom can't imagine her adult daughter off in the world without one, even though she's been using her own Elna Super daily for the past 40-something years. And, since I almost never use this machine except to hem the occasional pair of pants, I've had a lot of guilt building about it sitting quietly on my craft table. So, I checked a whole lot of beginner's quilting books out of the library and decided, come hell or high water, that I would figure out how to use it and make a quilt.
I significantly underestimated the financial outlay for this endeavor. Okay, my mom spent a whole lot more money on the machine, but I nearly had a Victorian-heroine style attack of the vapors in the check-out line of JoAnn fabrics when I found out how much all of the required supplies for my chosen project -- a snowflake appliqué lap quilt -- would cost. But, I reminded myself, I would never learn to use my machine if I abandoned my cart at the register and ran home, so for the rest of the day I reminded myself that I had really spent the money on my mother. Yes.
During my quilting adventure, I learned that sewing is an extremely cat-unfriendly activity. There's the hot iron perched on a wobbly ironing board, pins everywhere, sharp scissors and other blades lying around, fast-moving needles, and lots of stray threads to be chewed by curious kitty mouths. Plus, my cats have a tendency to transform any and all stray fabrics / clothes into a bed. Consequently, I became very good at packing my stuff up and covering my machine whenever I put my supplies away for the night.
The other impetus for this project was that I gave Pete a PS2 and Guitar Hero for Christmas, and I knew that he'd want to spend the rest of vacation playing with those. There's nothing wrong with that, of course, but it makes it difficult to read on the couch or knit in front of the TV when they're both otherwise occupied. As I predicted, the quilt was able to occupy me plenty.
I am not good at precision. I am the queen of "eh, good enough" with most projects, and I can measure the same thing three times and get three different measurements. So, I was more than a little concerned about the precision in cutting and sewing required by quilting. This is why I was so surprised that my finished quilt did not come out looking more half-assed than it does. In fact, I think that it looks pretty good.
Sure, there are tell-tale signs of amateurishness here -- seams that don't align properly, warping, threads poking out everywhere, and a really bad job at mitering the corners. But overall, I'm surprised by its non-suckiness.
I am also surprised that I didn't give myself a needle through the finger about 6 times while I was wrestling with the freehand stippling inside each of the appliqué squres, but I'm not exactly disappointed about that.
The verdict? For starters, there's no way that I could quilt during the school year: so many pieces to keep track of, and I just don't have enough free time. I'm also not sure about the overwhelming Americana/hominess of most quilt patterns, though I know that more contemporary styles exist (and I have books on request at the library). I do, however, have long-term ambitions of making some kind of bed covering. I think that I'll be working my way up to that slowly, however.
Socks that are, for once, not for me.
Materials: 2 skeins Lorna’s Laces Shepherd Sock (75% Superwash Wool, 25% Nylon) in Iris Garden; size1 DPNs. Pattern is Knitty's Baudelaire.Time: Three weeks.
Cost: Not saying -- it's a present!
Pete's mom recently had to go in for hip-replacement surgery, and since I couldn't be there to help out with the recovery I decided that some wooly socks would be the perfect long-distance display of support. I wanted them to come as a surprise, so we quizzed his sister about shoe sizes and widths, and I chose a colorway that would meet Pete's request for "something bright" but not overpower any details in the pattern. (LL's multi colors can be a bit, er, high-contrast, which is great except when you're working on something ornate.) I fixed on Knitty's Baudelaire for the pattern -- for one, it's the successor to Pomatomus (and therefore automatically worth making); for another, it provides instructions for various widths and instep sizes, which would make my job a lot easier.
One thing that I learned from these socks: I really do knit a lot faster during vacation. I had the extra motivation to get these done by the surgery, but these took me three weeks to complete, as opposed to the eight months it took me to finish the (shorter) Pomatomus. I'm impressed with myself.
These are a little baggy in the photos above 'cause I'm modeling them, and they're sized for a slightly longer and wider foot. The Baudelaire pattern notes mention that there isn't a lot of give in the lace, but I didn't necessarily find that to be the case. It could be that I tend to like loose socks to begin with, but these seemed to have enough stretchiness to accommodate a reasonable range of foot sizes.
This pattern is pretty comparable in difficulty to Pomatomus; they're both extremely well-written and easy to follow. I had to size down my needles from 2s to 1s, but I am using a different type of yarn than recommended. Best of all, word on the street is that they fit perfectly. Mission accomplished!
Now I just need to knit some for myself. After the 5,000 projects that I plan to do in the interim, that is.





