Wednesday, May 12, 2004
Consider this: a Sunday morning in Astoria, a bit of a chill in the air but still your basic springlike day. In the breadbox on top of the fridge is half a loaf of stale brioche, no longer fit for sandwiches but still usable for bread pudding. Hey! Bread pudding! We’ll have bread pudding for breakfast! I love bread pudding, not only because making it is easier than falling asleep on a cool spring night, but also because you can make it as lean or as rich as you’d like. You can add eggs, subtract eggs, use whole milk, lowfat milk, cream; you can add sugar, honey, maple syrup, Lyle’s Golden Syrup, or eschew the sweets entirely and make a savory pudding. Whatever you pick, it is easy to make, it is soothing and satisfying to eat, and it makes your kitchen smell like a million bucks. Hmm, I thought. Maple pecan.
I turned on the oven. I buttered a baking dish. I cubed the brioche and laid it in the dish. I sprinkled pecans and sultanas over the bread. I took down my trusty Waring Blendor, plugged it in, loaded it up with milk and grade-B maple syrup (grade-B is stronger and more maple-flavored, definitely what you want here) and five eggs. Turned on the blender, the blender of choice of bartenders everywhere, supposedly the only blender one will ever need to buy. Watched first in surprise, then in curiosity, then in horror as the motor made a horrible grinding sign and the kitchen was suddenly filled with smoke and the smell of burning rubber. Apparently the fan belt has given up the ghost. I am able to decant everything into the Cuisinart and proceed as normally, but it is too late. The kitchen should be smelling of maple and pecan, but instead it smells like an industrial nightmare. The eventual bread pudding is indeed lovely, gently sweet, warming without being overfilling, but for me it is too late. Every bite tastes like the cost of a replacement fan belt.
Consider this, part II: Another Sunday morning in Astoria, the first warm muggy Sunday morning of 2004. Lloyd turns on the air conditioner. A horrible grinding noise is heard.
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Bakerina at 11:08 PM in
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Michael, you and I are of like minds on kitchen appliances. For some reason, a broken appliance frustrates me in a way that nothing else does, and I don’t think it’s just because I’m a kitchen monkey, either. If I watched my toaster oven turn itself on and burst into flames, I’d be convinced that the damn thing did it just to spite me.
Theresa, the air is indeed dead, dead as the dodo. We’ve been positioning all of our fans in interesting crosswise breeze patterns, but it’s still been muggy and nasty this week. We are running, not walking, to PC Richard next weekend to get a new a/c.
Tvindy, if the blender had exploded, there would have been no room for the egg and milk on the walls, what with all the stubborn apple butter stains I’m still trying to bleach out. 
‘mouse, my parents still have a waffle iron my stepdad’s mom bought when he was little. It will probably outlast mine. And yes, I always blend bread pudding custard in the blender or the Cuisinart, as it blends the whites and yolks so smoothly that you never get that nasty chunk of unblended egg white. The tradeoff is that you have to skim the foam off the surface of the custard, or else it will bake into the custard and make it tough and nasty and watery. I think it’s a small price to pay; no skin off my nose to do a quick pass-through with the ladle.
My little Tislet! So nice to see you back. I laughed out loud, reading this. I will never order anything but vodka gimlets from you, dearest. The Kids in the Hall have a sketch called “Girl-Drink Drunk” that I think you would love.
Billy, there is no such thing as hijacking a post, unless you’re doing it to troll me, which I know you’d *never* do. I am dead jealous of you; that’s two more episodes of Wonderfalls than I’ve seen! I really should just give up and watch them on the net, rather than wait for Fox to do the right thing by Tim Minear and make the damn DVD already. Glad to hear that Stephanie is reclaiming normality, btw. 
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Michael, you and I are of like minds on kitchen appliances. For some reason, a broken appliance frustrates me in a way that nothing else does, and I don’t think it’s just because I’m a kitchen monkey, either. If I watched my toaster oven turn itself on and burst into flames, I’d be convinced that the damn thing did it just to spite me.
Theresa, the air is indeed dead, dead as the dodo. We’ve been positioning all of our fans in interesting crosswise breeze patterns, but it’s still been muggy and nasty this week. We are running, not walking, to PC Richard next weekend to get a new a/c.
Tvindy, if the blender had exploded, there would have been no room for the egg and milk on the walls, what with all the stubborn apple butter stains I’m still trying to bleach out.
‘mouse, my parents still have a waffle iron my stepdad’s mom bought when he was little. It will probably outlast mine. And yes, I always blend bread pudding custard in the blender or the Cuisinart, as it blends the whites and yolks so smoothly that you never get that nasty chunk of unblended egg white. The tradeoff is that you have to skim the foam off the surface of the custard, or else it will bake into the custard and make it tough and nasty and watery. I think it’s a small price to pay; no skin off my nose to do a quick pass-through with the ladle.
My little Tislet! So nice to see you back. I laughed out loud, reading this. I will never order anything but vodka gimlets from you, dearest. The Kids in the Hall have a sketch called “Girl-Drink Drunk” that I think you would love.
Billy, there is no such thing as hijacking a post, unless you’re doing it to troll me, which I know you’d *never* do. I am dead jealous of you; that’s two more episodes of Wonderfalls than I’ve seen! I really should just give up and watch them on the net, rather than wait for Fox to do the right thing by Tim Minear and make the damn DVD already. Glad to hear that Stephanie is reclaiming normality, btw.