Steven Harper Piziks

 We had a bit of an ice storm last night. Most of the schools in the area announced closure the night before, but Wherever Schools held their breath and waited. We didn't get the cancel call until 4:45 AM.

Today I made cinnamon rolls from scratch and the bean soup that I reverse-engineered from the Whitney restaurant several years ago. I did a bunch of writing business and went for a treadmill run. It's been a laid-back day.

I know a lot of people buy a breadmaker saying, "I can make delicious, fresh bread anytime I want!" They make a loaf or two, and then the machine vanishes into the dark depths of the cupboard or is banished to the basement, never to be seen again.

Mine isn't one of those.

I got a breadmaker back when they first came out, and I used it semi-regularly, usually a couple-three times a month. It was a supplement, though, and not a regular part of the kitchen routine. We still bought store bread. But I loved setting it to bake bread overnight and having hot, fresh bread at breakfast. 

Years later, when I got divorced and it was me and three boys (two of them teenagers) and we didn't have any money, I was looking at every way to cut household costs. I realized we were going through three loaves of bread a week at $2 a loaf. That was $25 a month, just for bread.

I did more math. Flour, salt, yeast, and a little oil for a loaf of bread came to about 25 cents. (!) So I could go from $6 a week to 75 cents, or from $25 a month to $3 a month. The breadmaker itself cost $50, so it would pay for itself in less than three months.

The breadmaker became a permanent resident on the counter. I became adept at quickly throwing the ingredients in and letting it crank through yet another loaf every other day.

Years passed, and the financial problems eased. But I still used the breadmaker. Not only is it cheaper, but the bread is also better in all ways. 

Eventually the bread pan started to fall apart. The gasket sealing the bottom went bad, and it leaked. Fortunately, I was able to order a replacement part on-line, and life continued as before.

More years passed peacefully, as far as the breadmaker was concerned. Then a few weeks ago, things started to go south. The second bread pan was going bad. The breadmaker was making an alarming GRONK GRONK GRONK noise when it kneaded the dough. After 15 years of labor, it was time to retire.

I wasn't going to give up a breadmaker, though! I started shopping for one and found that they haven't changed much in the last 15 years, except in price. The model I had bought for $50 back then went for $100 now! Goodness. 

More shopping ensued, and I found a different, cheaper brand of maker that looked promising. For one thing, it had two paddles in the bottom, which would make for better kneading, and it had more settings for different styles of bread. And the shipping information said it would arrive in three days. Well, good!

I ordered it. A bit later, I got an email that proudly announced my breadmaker would be on its way and arrive in a couple weeks.

Wait--what? 

I double-checked. The original listing still had the breadmaker arriving in three days, but apparently that was a lie. When you buy it, suddenly it's two weeks. I suspect it had to be shipped from China or India or something, but they didn't want to say this, so they lied.

I tried to cancel the order and was informed it was "too late, as the product has already shipped," even though the web site said the order hadn't been filled yet, let alone shipped. I complained higher up the food chain and was finally told the order would be canceled and my money would be refunded. And lo, my money was returned. 

Meanwhile, I ordered a similar breadmaker from a different company. Paid a smidge more, but it would arrive at the agreed-upon time (three days).

Also meanwhile, I got an email alert that my original breadmaker had shipped and it would arrive Real Soon Now. Huh. Okay.

The second new breadmaker arrived and it's a delight! I love the dual paddles. It also solved one of the perennial breadmaker problems--the stuck paddle. When you shake a loaf from the pan, often the kneading paddle comes with because it's buried inside the bread. You're stuck with two alternatives. You can pluck it out of the hot bread, or you can wait for the bread to cool and remove the paddle then. The first way leaves the loaf relatively undamaged but singes your fingers something awful. The second way saves your fingers, but the bread adheres to the paddle as it cools and pulling it out brings a big chunk of bread with it. I usually ran cold water from the faucet, pulled out the hot paddle, and immediately went for the cold water.

Anyway, this breadmaker provided a little wire hook that slips into the paddle and flicks it out of the bread in a trice. It's a no-contact solution to singed fingers and damaged bread. I love it!

I've also started baking bread with whole wheat flour. It's more effort--whole wheat bread needs more ingredients if you want something chewable--but it's healthier, and Darwin can eat it. I also know for sure it's whole wheat. A LOT of store-bought "whole wheat bread" ... isn't. The definition of "whole wheat" leaves a lot of wiggle room. But mine doesn't, thank you. The dough is HEAVY, though. My old breadmaker was too old to handle it, but this new one cranks right through it and produces lovely loaves of honey-and-molasses wheat goodness. Very satisfied.

And then the first breadmaker I ordered arrived. It was on my porch one day when I got home from work. Um...

I use my breadmaker way more than most people, but not enough to need two of them! I double-checked my debit account. Money is still there. And not a peep from the company about returning it. So I got a free breadmaker. It's still sealed in the original shipping box, waiting for me to figure out what to do with it.

Maybe I'll sell it on eBay. Or donate it somewhere.

Ideas?

Meanwhile, as I write this, the house smells of baking bread.

Lately, the internet is abuzz with hotdish. This is because Tim Walz mentioned it in a rally speech as a Midwestern thing, and now everyone is talking about this quiet little food that's traditionally showed up at potlucks all over the place. It's been a huge mainstay of dinners everywhere.

I've never heard of them.

A hotdish, if you don't know them either, is usually some kind of ground or chopped meat in a white sauce covered with tater tots and baked. Often cheese, bacon, and/or mushrooms are involved as flavoring. They can be really easy (canned cream of mushroom soup with ground beef topped with tots) or really complicated (make a bechamel sauce while the shredded turkey is mingling with the tofu...). They're hot and filling and a cheap way to feed a large group. 

I grew up in the middle of Michigan's lower peninsula in a rural area. Potlucks were a thing at any community gathering. I never saw a hotdish. There were lots of hot dishes, usually casseroles that ranged from fantastic to horrifying. (You learned really quick to avoid Mrs. Gunderson's noodle dish.) Lots of them had a protein in a white sauce. But I never saw anything that involved tater tots, as a hotdish must.

Weirdly, the hotdish engenders strong feelings either for against. They're either delicious, heavenly, and a touchstone of childhood, or they're instruments of world destruction in the hands of Satan. 

But I've still never heard of them until now.

I've never made one, either, but out of idle interest, I looked up a bunch of hotdish recipes, and they strike me as solid but bland, like a lot of Midwestern cooking. (The Midwest's spice palette consists of salt. Pepper is too spicy, paprika too daring, curry too weird.) They're basically pot pie topped with tots instead of a crust or biscuits. Nothing worth getting upset--or excited--about. But people do. Screen after screen of comments on the recipes sound like a political divide. It's weird.

Have you heard of them? Made one? Are they a staple or a mystery?

"I hate an open concept house, especially the kitchen! I don't want people to see the mess in the kitchen while I'm cooking! I don't want guests in the same room when I'm cooking with strong odors like garlic or fish! And I don't want my pets in the kitchen while I'm cooking! And I love abandoning my guests in the living room while I'm finishing dinner! Why does every new house have an open concept kitchen? I hate them sooo much!!!!!!"

Sheesh.

 

You know why modern houses have open-concept kitchens? Because PEOPLE LIKE THEM. If few or no people wanted them, builders wouldn't put them in.

I love an open concept. When I have people over, I want to be able to use the kitchen while still being able to visit with my guests. I don't feel comfortable abandoning them in the living room: "Have a seat on the couch. I'll be back with dinner in about half an hour." 

Not only that, when I've lived in closed-concept houses, there's never been an actual door to the kitchen, just a doorway. It doesn't stop smells from migrating to the rest of the house. Besides, who cooks strong garlic or fish when company comes if they know the smell will bother the guests? It permeates the whole house, open concept or not, and they'll get a snootful. The design of the house has nothing to do with it.

And guests always wander into the kitchen anyway: "What can I do to help?" My mother, in particular, loves to sit at the island and kibbitz while I'm cooking. ("It's so nice to watch someone else cook for a change.")

And you worry about mess? Really? Like any decent cook, I clean as a I go, so there's no mess. If you don't want people to see a mess, don't make a mess.

In an open kitchen and when no one else is around, I can watch TV on the living big screen while I'm cooking. And pets? The cats have been trained to stay away while I'm working--a squirt bottle placed in prominent sight reminds them to buzz off. Took all of one squirt to train them run away when I just pick up the bottle. 

If you object to open kitchens because they make you feel agoraphobic or if they feel less cozy to you or you don't want other family members in the same room with you when you're cooking because you like to cook alone, that's fine! Just acknowledge that you like a closed kitchen for emotional or psychological reasons, not because they're in some practical way superior to open kitchens.

So open up dem kitchens, builders! We love them!

 Wendy's is going to experiment with having an AI change the prices of their food items from moment to moment, depending on demand, weather, and other circumstances:

https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2024/02/wendys-plans-ai-powered-menu-to-change-food-prices-based-on-demand-weather/

"Beginning as early as 2025, we will begin testing a variety of enhanced features on these digital menu boards like dynamic pricing, different offerings in certain parts of the day, AI-enabled menu changes and suggestive selling based on factors such as weather," they said. "Dynamic pricing can allow Wendy's to be competitive and flexible with pricing, motivate customers to visit and provide them with the food they love at a great value. We will test a number of features that we think will provide an enhanced customer and crew experience."

Basically what's going to happen is, prices will go up during high-volume times like lunch rush, and the AI will do its best to persuade you to add a frosty to your order on hot days, or coffee on cold ones. They'll also fire the cashier who takes your order, since an AI will do the job.

Also note the corporate nonsense-speak. Changing your prices hour by hour or even minute by minute does not "enhance" customer experience for the customer, though it enhances it for the company in that it makes them more money.

And "Dynamic pricing ... can motivate customers to visit and provide them with the food they love at a great value." AI pricing won't "motivate" customers to visit Wendy's. ("Hey! Wendy's uses AI to change their prices. Let's eat there today!" said no one ever.) And "dynamic pricing" is deliberate sales speak. "Dynamic pricing" sounds better than "changing prices." Or "price gouging."

They gush about it and make it sound like the customers will somehow benefit from something that's designed solely to make more money for the company. You'll notice that nowhere in the article does it say that Wendy's will adjust prices LOWER than normal during slow times, for example.

This will cause problems for customers, especially regulars who buy certain foods and know the price already. They'll instantly spot the price gouge during busy times and note that it went back down to normal during lull times. And they won't be happy about it.

I'm interested in seeing if the public puts up with this.

Today is Darwin's birthday. He didn't want to do any kind of big celebration, but I persevered. It turned ... interesting.

While the cleaning crew was going over the house this afternoon, I suggested we get out of their way and go out to lunch. We decided to look for a place on Ann Arbor's west side. But when we got there, we discovered the entire area was without power due to last night's storm. All the restaurants were closed. 

Darwin noticed we were on Dexter Road, so he said, "Let's go to Dexter. I've never been there."

So we zipped up the road to Dexter. It turned out Dexter had power, but their downtown was in the grip of some awful road construction, with traffic backed way, way up. We happened on a restaurant (the Fillmore) right at beginning of the long backup, so we decided to eat there. The weather was lovely, and they offered outdoor seating. The ambiance was very nice, but the food was ... meh. Especially for what they were charging. 

Originally we'd wanted to explore downtown Dexter, but there was no way we wanted to deal with the awful, awful traffic snarl, so we went back home. A disappointment, but a first-world one, so we weren't bothered.

At home, I assembled The Cake.

When I asked Darwin what kind of birthday cake he wanted ("Just get one from Kroger or something." "Are you telling me NOT to bake you a birthday cake? ME?" "Oh, right. Uh ... chocolate cake?" "Boring! How about a Boston cream pie?" "Oooooo! I didn't know you could make one of those at home!"), I got to work the day before, in case things didn't work out right.

Actually, Boston cream pie is pretty easy. It's just a butter cake with the middle cut out and replaced with simple custard. The REAL challenge lay in not making a full-sized cake. With only two of us, a full cake would go mostly uneaten. What to do?

I rooted through the cupboards and found my ramekins--small bowls that can be used for baking. These should work! I made enough cake batter for a single layer, which would be more than enough, but I wanted to do a test cake. If it didn't work, I'd need the batter for a second try. I poured and baked two little cakes, watching carefully, since the recipe's baking time was for a 9" metal cake pan, and these were 4" glass ramekins.

The cakes came out perfectly! I had figured on making a second set, but realized I didn't need to. Yay! In the meantime, I made the custard (custard also looks more difficult than it is) and put it and the little cakes in the fridge overnight.

Today, I made some chocolate glaze (also easier than you think), cut the center out of one layer, and filled the hole with custard. Plopped the top layer on and smoothed glaze over the whole thing. Ta da! A tiny, two-person birthday cake!

I put one candle on it, and Darwin put up with "The Birthday Song." He pronounced the cake wonderful and rich. He also appreciated his present--a pair of house moccasins. His old ones are wearing out. When you're a grownup, you like this kind of present!

And so he's a year older.

Darwin and I have been having trouble with restaurants lately. They see us coming and close their doors.

At least, it feels that way. On Tuesday, we wanted takeout for dinner. We called the restaurant, and got no answer. We tried a few more times, and still no answer. So we decided to go out. On the way, we passed the takeout place. A sign said they were closed today. No other explanation. Huh. 

We arrived at the second restaurant. It was also closed. The hell? We finally went to a dumpy Coney Island place that was actually open.

Today I got home very late and very hungry and very crabby. No cooking. We drove to a restaurant. Closed. I was getting crabbier. We drove across town to yet another restaurant, hunted for a parking place, and walked two blocks through cold drizzle.

Restaurant closed.

What the ever-loving-fuck?

In this last case, there was a restaurant across the street that I really like but Darwin doesn't (which is odd--the restaurant floridly caters to the LGBT community).

It was open.

And so, at least, a meal.

Since the pandemic started, our poker parties have become more irregular, but we still have them. This time, Darwin and I were hosting in our new house. It's fun to have it here because I can make party food I rarely get to play with. This time, the centerpieces were home-made mac and cheese and a pavlova, which is a frothy, meringue-and-fruit dessert perfect for summer evenings.

When the players began to arrive, our friend Carol produced a housewarming present: a 2-liter of the new Vernors Black Cherry , which is difficult to find. Vernors, for those who aren't familiar, is a brand of ginger ale you can only find in the Great Lakes part of the country. It's one of the few regional treats left.

I tasted it and liked it and remembered I had in the freezer a bottle of cherry vodka I'd bought from a specialty brewery in Traverse City. And a new drink was born. I declared the name to be a Cherry Popper. (Because it's made with cherry pop. What did you think I meant?)

CHERRY POPPER
8 oz. Black Cherry Vernors
1 oz. cherry vodka
ice

Combine ingredients in cocktail glass and stir. Garnish with fresh or maraschino cherry.

It turned into the drink of the evening!

The game itself was weird. We had long, long streaks of dull hands. The flops had no face cards. Few of us got pocket pairs. The big moment, though, came when two players went all in and turned their pocket cards, only to show they BOTH had a pair of kings. (!!) The flop cards didn't have the right combination to give anyone a flush, so no matter what other cards showed up, it would have to be a tie!

It was a fun evening of food and cards.

The company Max works for gave all the employees a turkey just before Thanksgiving. As a young single man, Max had no idea what to do with it. And I'd already bought a turkey for the family Thanksgiving. He put it in his freezer, where it sat forlornly in the middle, the only object in there.

This week, I told him to bring it over. I thawed it in the refrigerator, then brined it overnight. I also chopped up a bunch of bread and seasoned it. Today, I stuffed the turkey and it's currently roasting in the oven. The plan is to eat whatever we want, then divide up the rest for freezing. Both households will get a pile of meat.

It's an unexpected turkey!

ETA

The unexpected turkey turned out deliciously. I also made mashed potatoes, gravy, butter-glazed carrots, and the stuffing. The house smelled like Thanksgiving. It was actually a bit odd--the prep and the smells put me in a Thanksgiving frame of mind, and I kept thinking that everyone would be here any minute. Then I would remember that they weren't, and I thought, "It's Thanksgiving dinner without the stress!"

At one point, I realized I didn't have any potatoes, so I popped out to get some. On the way, I somehow found myself stopping at a small local bakery for pączki, a Michigan treat you can only get in the days before Lent. I somehow found myself getting four of them, and I somehow found myself bringing them back home with the potatoes. Huh.

Max couldn't get here for dinner, but Darwin and I had a lovely dinner, with an epic cleanup afterward. I dissected the turkey carcass and bagged up the meat for freezing. Some will go to Max, and some will stay with us. (Darwin is, as we speak, already chowing on some.)

And then, instead of pie, we had pączki. And food comas.

A large chunk of the family this year couldn't be at a Thursday Thanksgiving, so we had ours on Friday.

This turned out rather nice, actually.  I had all day Thursday for Thanksgiving prep. Much better than cramming it all in on Wednesday after work! 

I also picked up my sister Bethany from the airport that evening.  She reported that if you want to travel over Thanksgiving, the best time to do it is on Thanksgiving itself. No crowds at the airport, and everyone was in a low-key, mellow mood.  She helped with Thanksgiving prep, too!

We had about twenty people, all told, including three small children.  It was a full house!  But our new condo was up to the task--it had all the room we needed for everyone.

I had an addition to the Thanksgiving festivities: drinks! 

A while ago, I took an online class in the basics of mixology from Tammy's Tastings. I really didn't know anything much about mixing drinks, and I thought it would be a fun to learn. Adds to my interest in cooking.  The class taught the basics and gave us recipes for a margarita, a Manhattan, and a mojito.  As it happens, margaritas are a favorite drink in my family, so I decided to add them to the rotation.

The margaritas were a big hit. I made them with fresh limes and tequila with agave and glasses rimmed with kosher salt.  Good stuff. My brother Paul also likes Manhattans, so I made him one of those, and he said it was wonderful.

Big piles of food were consumed, grandchildren played with, so much talk exchanged.  It was our first family gathering since the pandemic began, but we've all been vaccinated, so we felt safe about getting together. There was a lot of pent-up socializing!

Afterward came the epic cleanup.  But now it's all done--until Christmas...