Designer crackers

rough dough (two processor batches)

dough lightly kneaded

first tray

first tray, scored

second tray, scored

De-zig-ner crackers. Yay!

2 cups whole wheat flour

1 cup corn meal

1 cup semolina

2 cups A/P flour

(Thereabouts, honestly, I lost track exactly a little bit. You see, I started out thinking 1/2 cup corn and semolina each, then changed midstream, as it were, to 3/4 each and then changed it again, which produced an overly granular dough, that was changed again, but by then I had too much for the processor so it was divided in two and adjusted separately. Separately, but equally. The method to this madness becomes clear below. I think. )

4 oz butter

3/4 cup olive oil

2 Cups water

1 tablespoon kosher flake salt

1 teaspoon baking powder

Toppings, nearly everything I could think of. I ground all the fennel seeds I have, I ground a large quantity of rosemary. Three types of prepared curries, three types of chile powders. Tellicherry peppercorns, Burgundy sea salt. Wasabi.

I made two trays with stripes, pictured. They're a total pain in the butt, and ultimately not worth it. Used card stock paper as templates. Painted the dough with water so the spices would stick. the card stock kept sticking too. Takes too long. Then five trays of unstriped various mixed spices. I overbaked one tray, the fennel tray I believe, and tossed it. So that's six trays of crackers total. 

You know what? That tray of the wasabi was disappointing. I did my best to cover the surface evenly without overdoing it and in the end the wasabi cannot even be detect. I used the commercial fake-o horseradish wasabi, not the spice shop real-deal wasabi because the commercial is stronger and a bit harsher, perfect for floury crackers. Flour is like a black hole of flavor, except when it's whole-wheat flour that you mill at home and in that case contains every particle of the whole grain in its 100% whole wheat goodness, and not reconstructed to varying degrees from its various separated milled components. 

Flour needs a lot of help. But here it already has a lot of help, 100% true whole wheat directly from grain, corn directly from kernels. I mean, come on. So there I was sprinkling on the harsher wasabi thinking to myself, "Don't ruin this tray by making them inedible." Although I do like that POW right up your nose effect that you get with wasabi, but that's only once in awhile, very rarely, not a whole tray of crackers. The green splotches can be clearly seen so you know when you're getting a wasabi cracker and the brain prepares for a kick and then there is none. That makes me sad. It forces me to add more next time and then I'll be right back at running the risk of going too far. Again.

Conclusion: designer crackers striped with colored spices have no place in the modern busy kitchen. *looks around* Wut? The whole varieties are better. All of them are fun, but the intensely flavored striped ones are going way too far. Off the deep end. Beyond the radar. Over the cliff. Out in the wild blue yonder. Lost in the woods. Crossed over the line. Beyond redemption.  Wouldn't want a whole box of those. After making the striped trays, making the non-striped trays was much more fun and fast and 600% easier. Plus they would find much broader acceptance if I ever brought myself to share. 

Easter 2013

To 108℉, it is like a hair dryer that blows on the bowl, beep, then it blows regular air to 90℉, beep, and it suggests you to add seed chocolate, to 88.7℉, and it is warm and liquid but not for long. I learned to keep the machine running while filling the molds instead of removing the bowl. Notice how close these up and down temperatures are to body temperature. Professionals keep a standard hair dryer nearby to blow on the surface of the chocolate.

Chronologically this came first. It is Han Solo in carbonate and it is very good chocolate too. I tasted one and thought, "Wow, that is a lot better when it is tempered like that." The discs do not taste nearly this good. Han Solo In lieu of a  rabbit. Maybe I had just get a rabbit mold and do that, make a nice solid rabbit because everyone likes that, but I do think this is more interesting. 

One couldn't take the pressure.

Pressure cooked 10 minutes at 7.5 LBS pressure. Put in cold straight from the refrigerator, cooked, then cooled rapidly by spraying cold water over the entire pot to collapse the pressure valve and release the lid immediately, and chilled with cold water. So shocked twice. Severely shocked. Twice. That loosens the attachment of the membrane between the shell and rest and makes peeling the eggs a snap. These hard boiled eggs are assuredly easy-peel eggs, and in Denver that is something of a feat. 

Sidebar

This book will be left at one of the doors. If it is stolen, then whoever steals it will get a very good book. 

I saw the lady who lives there with a little girl one time and I thought either one might like this, if not she can give it away easily enough. Have a look if you like, or else just skip the whole set. I don't know the lady at all, have not spoken with her, but I believe she can appreciate this book more than I do.

It's about finding fairies in flowers and in the woods. It does have some interesting pop-up mechanisms but it is mostly artwork. Lady-type artwork, and child-like peek-a-boo things. 

The book is cushioned luxuriously extravagantly and unnecessarily, the cover contains a lenticular picture of a fairy that appears in a locket, it is imitating a memorabilia album but not offering the user the chance to insert anything personal of their own, so it's not all that inviting. It purports to be somebody else's personal album.

So there is that.

Back to the baskets, which are actually brown paper bags.

The thing is the Easter Bunny has no judgement at all. None whatsoever. It cannot tell the difference between nutritious salad and candy, delicious Romaine from bitter cabbage, good candy like malted ball eggs and from awful candy like these Cadbury eggs. Yuck. But it's all the same to the rabbit. 

The humans will have to sort through the basket, which is really a bag, and use their own judgement about which things to toss.  

Lemon biscuits.

There was thirty yards of ribbon in the roll, fourteen bags prepared, so two yards each.

MATHS !

4:00 a.m. and not a peep in the whole place. I'm wondering now if I might have dropped a few of these in front of vacant apartments.  

Venison meatballs

Hey, you dad gum varmits, quit look'n at mah dad gum meatballs!

Salad with garden tomatoes given to me by friends.

Dressing = raspberry vinegar whipped with vegetable oil and raspberry preserves and Dijon style mustard, salt/pepper.

Sauce on the meatballs is a commercial Tuscan vodka sauce. It's not that great. I'm only using it to get rid of it and because I don't have any pesto. Almost anything else would have been better.

Meatballs, below.

Frame 1. I was given two packages of ground game and told what they were, but now I forgot. This package of meat is either venison or elk. Possibly moose or reindeer. Maybe caribou or polar bear. Oh, I don't know it might be narwhal or penguin. OK, now I'm sure, it's venison. The guy who gave me the venison shot the deer with his own two hands. And a gun. But mostly with a gun. Then dragged it out of the woods with a pack of snarling howling threatening wolves circling around him, dashing in and out trying to get him to drop the deer, but he wouldn't give in. Then when he finally got to civilization he gutted it and cleaned it. Then butchered the meat grinding portions of it and packaged it himself. Then made moccasins and belts out of the leather, sold them, and donated the profits to native special needs children living on reservations. OK, I made up that whole last part after the shooting it.

Frame 2. The green stuff is chopped spinach. The orange stuff is bell pepper. Crumbly stuff is sourdough breadcrumbs I made from bread that wasn't quite stale but too far gone to eat otherwise. That stuff doesn't last long because it doesn't have any preservatives. I'm lazy and I'd prefer to load the meatballs up with vegetables, that way I don't have to cook them separately. Tricky, eh? Actually, I just wanted to moisten and lighten the meatballs. Venison is exceedingly lean, and meatballs can be tight, so all this stuff loosens them up. A lot. They're very tender. I like my meatballs round and not flattened out. I'm a bit neurotic about that. So I boiled them first, to stiffen them up a little. You can eat them just like that. They're delicious. But boiled meat? Bleh. Lacks the interesting chemical complexity roasted meat undergoes.

Frame 3. Basil and parsley, grown at home.

Frame 4. Boiling meatballs.

After getting this far, with the first batch, six at a time, I realized I forgot salt and pepper. Duh! So I added it to the remainder of the mixture, along with a little habanero flakes, to kick it up.

OK, now that picture of a meatball sitting in a bowl of olive oil up there is pure art, and I don't care who ya are.

Drained, rolled in olive oil, then baked. Drenched in olive oil like this gives the oven something to toast and a medium to carry flavor. Added vegetable oil to substitute for animal fat that venison lacks. Fat is flavor. Alcohol also carries flavor, so adding beer would do the same thing. The vegetables were finished with wine before mixing with the ground meat. So there's that. This idea works for lean beef hamburger too. Better to ingest olive oil than animal fat. You know, cholesterol, and all that. They were drizzled with even more olive oil right before baking, so those pans were really sizzling.

I made an outstanding mess of the kitchen. That one pound of venison produced 27 meatballs, and I intend to eat every one. Unless somebody comes over and I generously toss them one.

The Woods

Their home-brewed Belgian style beer.

The black stripes are the frame for the Plexiglas.

The train to the airport runs every fifteen minutes. 

I was locked into a time-warp. 

It seemed like every five minutes to me. 

Japanese beetle. An invasive species introduced to Colorado in 1900. Coloradans hate them. But I think it's adorable.

It makes me want to tie a thread around its leg and fly it around like a kite.

No wait. That was a flashback to kindergarten in Bethlehem Pennsylvania. Nevermind. 

The strip of tar-covered area appears to be parking for the stadium. It's incredibly long. They must have shuttle service or people would pass out in the heat.

The view gives a bit of a look behind the bare-bones Bauhaus architecture you see along the way. We're thinking there must be a pool in the middle. Certainly a garden.

Too bad my photo didn't focus properly. 

You must walk past this from the elevator to the restaurant. 

I said to my friend, "I bet they're empty." 

He goes, "Huh-uh. I bet they're filled. It's what they're about." He tapped one. Tap, tap, tap. Hollow sound. 

PSYCH! There's no beer in the barrels. They're empty! They're mere decoration. 

What a f'k'n ripoff! 

You're gonna hafta wake up pret-ty early in the morning to pull one off old Chip. 

Downstairs first level away from the restaurant. Their homemade beer is very good. 

The staff is like all the young people in Colorado. They're exceedingly helpful and alert. Coming in, throughout, going out, they leap ahead to open doors. The hostess does not outpace us. They're so fast that they stand there with the door open as doormen. They're patient. They are amazing. As people, not necessarily as staff. They do this all over the state. 

The place gets mixed reviews on Yelp. 

Reviewers say the food is okay but the view is spectacular. 

They complain about the cost of drinks and of food items. 

They complain about service being slow. 

We found everything excellent. I think the food is a bit pricy but I didn't pay. My friend thought the cost was very reasonable. He thought the view is better than I found it. He was fascinated, and he travels the entire world quite extensively. It's his raison d'être. He has better view on his own roof at Cheeseman. It's hard to tell when he's genuinely impressed and when he's just being nice. But he kept saying the view is spectacular. Mind, he's been skiing all his life. He knows the difference between truly spectacular and just okay. He confounds me sometimes. The view is of the low-level unadorned Bauhaus architecture all around, and the back of the train station and the urban residential area on the outskirts of Denver with the city behind them, and of the mountain range. You see the low-level grit of the city. The back of the stadium and the back of the train station, the back of buildings grown up in the back side of Denver.

They get spectacular sunsets. 

But so do I. 

Reviewers rave about the view. But I don't know why. It's only 8 floors up. It's nice, yes, interesting, yes, but that's all. In my humble opinion. 

We enjoyed being outside protected from the sun.

I had a very nice time.