Whoa Nelly! Homebrew!

HOLY MOLY. I have not foodblogged in almost a year. Possibly due to other obligations, possibly due to lapsed veganism (this is, after all, a vegan food blog, cool guy). Anyhow, let's catch up.

I finished another semester at JCCC.
I fell in love. Big love.
I transferred to Rockhurst.
My man fell ill.
I moved back to Kansas City.
I tended bar.
I had the opportunity to care for said Big Love.
I hated Rockhurst.
I left Rockhurst to transfer back to good ol' UMKC.
I no longer tend bar.
I wait tables under a phenomenal chef.
Once again, I work for and am surrounded by Italian dudes, personally and professionally. This is ok, for it is all I know.

Somewhere in there I was training for another marathon, but shit happens. In my life, it tends to happen a lot. Veganism lapsed, but I have access to way more amazing local, organic, lovingly-crafted foods than I did in Lawrence. This is saying quite a bit, because Lawrence is SUCH. A. GOOD. FOOD. TOWN.

I digress...

This post is about homebrew. And my life. Here's what's up:

I do not hover over my cell phone when I am on the clock. I've been in service off and on (all of two years off) for ten years now. It's unprofessional to even have it on me, really; but circumstances being what they are, I do keep it in my pocket and I check it when I am able to unobtrusively do so. Sue me.

Those few of you that know me personally know that Big Love is going through hellacious medical treatments. The last time he had a fever and was in the hospital, he was in the ICU for 5 days. It was a Big Fucking Deal. Long story short, I got a text from him in the hospital as I was wrapping things up with my last table tonight and dashed off. After a quick whore's bath in the sink and a change of clothes, I was on my way to the hospital when he called me to tell me he'd been released.

Wonderful! The last thing I want to see is my rock not at his best. But what now?

Homebrew. My uncle's homebrew.

My uncle Pat is getting increasingly creative with his hooch-craft, and I am in possession of quite a bit of his beer. And it's good. Really good. Tonight I've sampled a tart, dry cider and a nut cream brown ale. The cider is not a sweet cider, but the aftertaste is leaves and jonagold apples. Hopefully my brother will forget I have this, because I don't want to share and I'd like to cook some greens in it. I'm thinking collard or mustard greens, splash of cider, ground pepper and a shitload of garlic.... maybe smoked Central Soyfoods tofu.

As far as the nut cream brown ale goes (way to say something inadvertently sexual, Margot)... I'm not sure. It's like a heavier, less skunky, creamier Newcastle. I'm thinking desert applications, but I'm also a little drunk. What say you, internet?

I do have some other interesting pale ale blends, but I suspect those would be best suited for drinking.

Challah and French Toast

My life has been hectic these past few months. I'm talking lots of ups and downs, very little downtime (or sleep). I know-- we're all dealing with some real shit right now, right? Especially IN THIS ECONOMY. I've become a pretty good multitasker; but somewhere between dealing with school, work, finals, car problems, money woes, and surgery in two weeks, I broke.

On a typical Saturday night, gentle reader, you can generally find me somewhere in a tight skirt with a drink in my hand, acting a fool. This week was an exception. I was (am) exhausted. The last thing I wanted to do yesterday after work was be around other human beings, so I took my antisocial inclination as an opportunity to meditate. And by meditate, I mean bake. And drink.

I love bread. Carbs of all kinds are very near to my heart, but bread is the king. I don't think I have to justify that statement to anybody. Normally when I want bread, I just chuck all my ingredients in the breadmaker, mash some buttons and wait 3 hours for a tasty, if not visually appealing, loaf. It makes good sandwichy bread, but I hate the weird little square loaves and the breadmaker belly-button from the paddle is deeply disturbing to me. If I'm going to dedicate a Saturday night to baking, the result is going to look pretty, goddamn it. This is why I decided challah was in order.

I followed Vaishali's recipe, substituting quick rise yeast for the regular kind, and felt particularly clever about proofing the dough in front of the space heater. Pardon my ghetto food photography (I'm working with a blackberry camera and an apartment without overhead lighting), please. It was a beautiful loaf. When I pulled it out of the oven, I wanted to cradle it like a baby. In fact, I may have done exactly that because it was after midnight by the time it was done and vodka makes me feel feelings. At any rate, I almost felt guilty cutting into it. Almost. It was delicious; and I went to bed victorious, a proud mother.

I woke up this morning and was completely unphased by the beautiful braided baby in my kitchen counter, so I skipped breakfast-- not usual for me, and dumb considering my friend Shelagh and I went to 2 hours and 15 minutes of yoga classes this morning (I make it a point to mention the 15 minutes because yoga abs is brutal). I started to regret the decision to skip breakfast about 30 minutes into the class. So, what's a girl to do?

French toast, when she gets home, that's what! I had some vanilla hazelnut Rice Dream on hand, so I whisked a little flour and a dash of cinnamon in and used that as my batter. Delicious. I stuck my foot in it.

That's all I have to say about that.

In conclusion, bread is awesome, cheap, and you can make stuff with it. Next time I'll post recipes and such. I'm just happy to have completed a post with actual content.

Firsties!

Just what the world needs-- another food blog! I look forward to sharing my recipes and silly anecdotes with you, internet. Let's make this work.