No More Excuses

Prepare to soon be dazzled by this sophisticated little point-and-shoot. I watched the CNET video about six times before finally pulling the trigger, so here's hoping the ISO sensitivity and 5x zoom live up to the hype. Either way, it sure is purdy.

Hello, Pretty.

I finally succumbed to my urges, and brought home my very own iPhone today. She is everything I ever hoped she'd be. I've rationalized this upgrade in a number of different ways.

1. This is the first phone I've ever paid money for. Sooo, I deserve a nice one. Yeah. That's how that works.
   
2. My current (woops, I mean, former) phone, a dinosaur Nokia flip thing, has to be rigged up very carefully with the wind blowing on it in exactly the right way in order for it to charge. At one point it didn't ring, it warbled. Which was especially interesting when my rooster alarm clock went off.
   
3. This is not just a phone. It's a tiny computer! And an iPod, a digital camera, a video camera, GPS, and has applications that tell me where to eat and what constellations are currently overhead. How did I ever live without this?
4. I've already canceled out the additional monthly cost from my budget by threatening to leave my internet provider, which they responded to by cutting my bill in half for a year. Boom. Try it.
   
5. I just want to feel fancy.
   

I just worry about this purchase turning out like the dreaded Guess sunglasses incident of 1997. I was working as a lifeguard at the ole municipal swimming pool and went against all of my better judgment and spent $70, which is a fairly shocking figure when you're a 16-year-old lifeguard, on a pair of sunglasses. To go with my whistle. I lost them within 72 hours, and have been pretty cheap as a rule ever since. Here's hoping that my new precious gadget doesn't find itself underneath a zamboni, or in the belly of a wild beast. Which is where I can only assume my sunglasses are.

Mine.

Huzzah! This biotch scored herself a sewing machine. It's my pleasure to introduce you to the Janome Sewist 525S. And I'm so tickled I'm just going to keep on typing without dwelling on the fact that "Sewist" is an unabashedly made-up word. You're spunky, Janome. Willing to take risks. I like that.

This weekend involved some intense research (I now know the difference between oscillating and rotary hooks!), demonstrations from a couple different sewing machine dealers around town, and I'm not ashamed to admit -- a bit of haggling. Ended up getting a screaming deal on this little princess. It seems Janome is giving their look a face lift -- in a month or so this exact machine will appear more futuristic and sleek. But in the meantime, they're trying to get the ugly stepsister version out of sight, hence knocking a couple hundred dollars off the price tag. But don't worry, 525S, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I will never make you feel less than stunning.

Here's a sampling of the features on my new fabric sleigh:

• 25 stitches including a one-step buttonhole
• Built-in needle threader
• Automatic one-step buttonhole
• Magnetic type horizontal full rotary hook
• Convenient one-hand thread cutter
• Convertible free arm for circular sewing
• Accessory storage
• Foot pressure adjustment
• Quick foot conversion
• Drop feed dog

I'm hoping to find out what most of these phrases mean soon. (I know one thing for sure, they're all about the buttonhole.) I've never wanted to be a member of a club so badly in my life.

What a crock.

I channeled my inner-June Cleaver this week and spent some quality time with my crock pot -- a device that never ceases to amaze me, that for some reason, I rarely use.

Somehow this magical contraption turned a $3 beef round roast into the most amazingly tender cut of meat I've had in ages. Yes, I understand. It's sloooow cooking. In its own juices. But how can a result so amazing, be so easy? And cheap? This particular pot held 4 meals, and probably set me back about $10.

That's it. I've got the answer. The cure for this recession is lots and lots of crock pot action.

Slow Cooked Beef Goodness

beef roast, 2-ish pounds (cheap is ok, remember: crock pot = magic)
Penzey's prime rib rub
Yukon gold potatoes
5 cloves of garlic
3 large carrots
1 large onion
beef broth, enough to cover roast
red wine, 1/2 cup or so
bay leaves
salt and pepper

I started my roast in the morning before I went to work. I rubbed the meat, then tossed it in the pot with the sliced garlic and onion. I whisked about a TB of corn starch into the broth before pouring it over the beef - but that didn't really seem to thicken up the juices - and I was kind of glad it didn't work when it was done. Then I poured in the red wine, tossed in the bay leaves, covered it up, turned it on low and left.

When I got home about 8 hours later, I could smell it before I even unlocked my door. It was heavenly. I hope the aromas tortured my neighbors and turned them green with envy. Anyway, at that point I threw in the potatoes and the carrots, and let them cook for another couple of hours before the salting, peppering and feasting commenced. Ideally, the whole operation would have taken about 8 hours, and the potatoes and carrots would have gone in at about hour 5.

It doesn't really get more comforting than this one-pot wonder. It almost makes me want more winter. Almost.

It's goal settin' time -or- Mixer Porn

Maybe "Kitchenaid glamor shots" is more appropriate. I just wanted a reason to get my pretty machine all shined up for a photo shoot. If you look closely, you can see a bottle of Windex being reflected in the flawless bowl. Classy, Martha. Nice one.

There is a point to this. I have a kickass mixer, and I should use it more. From this point forward, I vow to cook or bake something new every week. Yes, I realize most of you do this already. And I think a lot about it, but have trouble converting these thoughts into actions. That's where you come in, blog accountability.

In reality, probably about 20% of these adventures will actually happen in Big Red. But for some reason a centerfold of my crock pot doesn't seem to hold the same allure.

Stay tuned for the outcome of Foodie Challenge #1, results to be shared on Saturday. (And hopefully by then I will have come up with a catchier name for said project. Suggestions are encouraged. Operation Dish? 52 Spoons? Help.)

Iron-Ons 101: D-

I've been smitten with this collection of Sukie Iron-On transfers for awhile now, but just recently decided to actually attempt shellacking them onto a garment or two. What an easy way to initiate myself to DIY culture!

Except I screwed it up.

That koolaid-esque blotch you see on my shirt was actually intended to be a doppelganger for the cute owl on the transfer paper. Things did not go according to plan. Here are a few tips on how NOT to apply iron-on transfers:

1. If the power indicator light on your crappy iron is blinking on and off and making strange popping sounds, go ahead and use it anyway. I'm sure it's just fine!

(Make sure you iron is very, very hot, and that the steam mechanism is turned off. Make sure the water cartridge is empty while you're at it. )

2. Use an ironing board, don't bother closely reading the directions. It's not like these Sukie people are craft experts or anything.

(Sukie recommends ironing on a flat board, or other surface capable of handling high temps without bursting into flame or melting, etc. An ironing board distributes too much of the heat and doesn't allow the temperature to get high enough.)

3. Make sure you are multitasking while applying your transfer. Go ahead - watch American Idol auditions, throw a pizza in the oven, and prematurely write a blog post in your head about your successful iron-on results while simultaneously throwing a wrench in the works.

(Valuable lesson should be self-explanatory.)

Check out Simple Sally's successful Sukie results.