Category: Food (Page 5 of 5)

Dropping Homemade Apple Pie

November 30, 2008 / Katie L. Carroll

While perusing Lisa Yee’s blog, I came across her post about spilling rice pudding all over the streets of NYC. Alas, this made me think of the time my mom and I were making apple pies. Now, I play soccer and consider myself a pretty coordinated person, but when it comes to cooking and holding breakable things, I am a bit of a klutz. My mom once had me carry a giant glass bowl filled with salad to a party. It never made it there. I dropped the bowl and spilled the salad all over the road while I was trying to close the car door. Another time I mixed (not with the electric mixer, mind you…I was mixing with just a wooden spoon) a ceramic bowl full of cookie dough right off the table.

These little incidents were nothing compared to the apple-pie debacle. So my mom and I had peeled, sliced, seasoned, and placed the apples in the crusts. I believe she was making one pie and I was making two. I also believe some of the apples were ones that I had picked with my own two hands (apple-picking is a great New England activity for the fall). The pies were baked, and all I had to do was take them out of the oven and let them cool. Then I would be able to eat my awesome delicious homemade apple pies. Easier said than done.

Because we were making three pies, there wasn’t enough glass pie pans for them all, so one of my pies had to go in a tin pan. So I’ve got the big awkward pot holders in my hands, I reach into the oven, and I pull out the pie in the tin pan. I have to walk maybe four steps to the kitchen table to place the pie on the cooling rack. Well, somewhere during that four steps the pie pan decided to fold in on itself, slip through my hands, and fall on the ground. Now this sucks, but a squished apple pie still might be edible (and really yummy!). Only the pie pan somehow flipped upside down and deposited my apple pie on the floor.

I pretty much lost it. A hot mess of apple mush on the kitchen floor is not exactly edible (though still potentially yummy…but possibly with some kitchen-floor extras in it). I growled in frustration and stomped into the living room. I know I’m a klutz when it comes to breakables, so I was being really careful with the pies. How was I supposed to anticipate that the pie pan was going to fail me? It wasn’t just that I wasn’t going to be able to eat the pie, either. I had spent all that time and energy on these stupid apples; my hand were still aching from all the slicing and peeling, and it was all a waste. The pie was a mess on the floor and not a delicious treat in my belly.

Thankfully, my mom cleaned up the mess, so I didn’t have to deal with the pie any longer (thanks, Mom!). I ranted for a little while about calling up the tin pan company and complaining about their faulty products, but of course I never actually did that. This taught me the important lesson of never using cheap, crappy tin pans for something as important as homemade apple pie. Luckily, this year’s apple pies have all ended up where they were supposed to (i.e. in someone’s belly). Although, I may never get over losing that one pie!

The End of an Era with the Closing of Paul’s Hamburger Stand

September 26, 2008 / Katie L. Carroll

It was a sad day when I learned Paul’s famous hamburger stand closed. In an article in the local newspaper, the owner—a guy whose name isn’t Paul—said the cost of running the business was too much. There was no warning, no big closing-our-doors party, no last chance to get a juicy cheeseburger, an order of mozzarella sticks, and a chocolate shake. Here one day, gone the next.

Paul’s wasn’t just a hamburger stand; it was a testament to an old way of life when serving a product of quality was king. My dad used to take us kids there all the time. During the Christmas season, he would give out $10 Paul’s gift certificates like they were business cards. The employees always knew his name, and they learned mine once I started going there on my own. The stand’s motto said it all, “Not serving numbers but generations.”

More than just the loss of a hamburger joint, though, Paul’s closing is a poignant reminder of how transient life is. It reminds me of when Harrison’s Hardware (the local hardware store that was around for over 90 years…I worked there while in high school and met my husband there) closed. It reminds me that Yankee Stadium will be torn down soon.

Yet as symbolic as these things are and as sad it is to lose them, they are just that: things. And worse than losing the things you love is losing the people you love. Still, I really do believe that humans are creatures of habit, and change, while inevitable, is unsettling. Without it, though, we wouldn’t have that little reminder to hold on tight to those things (and people) we love. Try not to take them for granted while they’re here because one day they won’t be.

Book Nerd California Bound

August 14, 2008 / Katie L. Carroll

The major cities I’ve been to include New York, Boston, Washington D.C., Miami, and London, and it was finally time for me to see what Los Angeles had to offer. Seeing as I spent most of my time in the bottom floors of a large, climate-controlled hotel, my visit to L.A. wasn’t as immersive as some of my other trips. Even still, I formed plenty of opinions on the city (of course!).

My plane took off in the early evening (East Coast time) and followed the setting sun west. We chased it across the country in an everlasting sunset until it dipped below the horizon and the quiet night caught up with us. I almost believed the enduring sunlight was a metaphor for how my trip would turn out—forgive me for my weak moment of Romanticism. If I had been thinking clearly, I would’ve realized the darkness would eventually come, and then my metaphor wouldn’t have seemed so optimistic.

It didn’t matter anyway because as the plane approached LAX and descended into a smoky, black cloud, all my sappy thoughts were quickly dispelled. At first I thought it was a storm cloud, but underneath it there was no lightning or rain, and then I realized it must be a smog cloud. I wondered what sort of unseen storm the smog was unleashing, and what impact it would have on my lungs.

Despite the smog, the city appears to be quite health-conscious. The Westfield mall that is across the street from the hotel (which shows what a small world it is because there is a Westfield mall about five minutes from my house in Connecticut) has an interesting food court. All eat-in food is served on real dishes, and the drinks come in real glasses. The mall near my house almost always serves the food and drinks (eat-in or take-out) in disposable containers.

The food selection is also on the healthier side. As I walked across the food court with my tray of pizza and orange soda, I got the feeling that people were staring at me in disdain (like I’m a bad person for eating something so greasy and delicious). Even the shelves of the grocery store are filled with all kinds of health foods that are usually only found in small, specially marked sections in the grocery stores I frequent.

My favorite indication of the differences in lifestyles between East and West Coast occurred during one of the conference sessions. (Did I forget to mention I was there for a writing conference?). An editor from New York mentioned how she often munches on fried-egg sandwiches while reading manuscripts. The moderator of the discussion said something like, “That’s a very East Coast thing to say.” Then she joked that an editor in California would be more likely to review manuscripts over a soy burger (ew!).

The soy-burger comment was made in good fun, but I couldn’t help but feel it legitimized my insecurities of walking through the food court. I was all alone, holding food that told everyone I wasn’t from around here, wearing clothes and sunglasses that weren’t designer brands, and feeling like it was my first day at a new school and I had no one to sit with in the cafeteria. At least I had remembered to take off my name badge…that would’ve really showed them what a nerd I am.

The Waste of Beer Can Innovation

June 13, 2008 / Katie L. Carroll

The technology that has gone into beer containers of late is quite impressive. Coors seems to be the leader in the industry. They first came out with the wide-mouth beer can in 1996. Contrary to what I thought, it was not designed to allow for faster beer chugging, but was created to give drinkers an experience that was closer to drinking beer out of a glass. Go figure. I didn’t know people actually drank beer for the taste!

Earlier this year Coors introduced the venting beer can. You may have seen the commercial where a guy lets his girlfriend think that his buddy needs to emotionally vent when the guys really just want to pore over some vented beer cans (pun intended!). (I won’t even digress into the absurdity of commercials like that…please, don’t get me started). Like the wide-mouth can, this technology was designed to give the beer a smoother feel. Coors is also the company behind the temperature indicator on beer labels. Their signature Rocky Mountains turns from white to blue when the beer is cold enough to drink. So much for good-old common sense.

My favorite invention has to be the self-cooling beer can. This little beauty–created by a company called Tempra Technology–uses all kinds of scientific principles (vacuums, evaporation, gels, etc…) to give you the pleasure of a can that cools your beer to the perfect temperature in just three minutes. Finally, someone has found a way to save me all that time I spend waiting for my beer to cool. Maybe they’ll even put a little voice recorder on the can to tell me when it’s ready.

Don’t worry; all you have to do is twist the base of the can. Supposedly, it’s all environmentally friendly and won’t contaminate the flavor of the beer (again with the whole flavor thing). I even read that you can throw the can on a fire and it won’t explode! I know, what a disappointment.

Now, imagine if all this thought, creativity, and innovation were applied to something useful…say to reverse global warming or discover a new power source. Wow, we could solve all the world problems in no time! But really, who needs that…not when you have perfectly cold beer pouring out of a vented can in three minutes. Did I mention I was a wine drinker?

London Part 2: Not Getting Tea

May 29, 2008 / Katie L. Carroll

One thing about visiting London that always excites me is knowing that tea is the norm. (I know it doesn’t take much to excite me…really people, it’s about the little things in life.) I’ve never been much of a coffee drinker; I love the smell of it, not so much the taste. When you order tea at most restaurants in America, the teacups are more appropriate for my three-year-old niece than for a grown adult and the water is less than hot. They know how to serve it in London: boiling hot water, a variety of tea bags for the picking, full-sized mugs, and natural sugar–none of that fake sweetener for me, thank you very much.

I never thought it would be difficult to get tea in London. My husband didn’t have any trouble. Every morning that he went to breakfast alone (he was alone because I hadn’t arrived in London yet…not because I don’t like eating with him!), the waitress offered him tea as soon as he was seated. Every morning I ate with him, we made our selections from the buffet, prepared toast, returned to the table, and ate half our food. And still, no tea!

On a bit of a diversion, continental breakfast is definitely worth it if you ever stay in London. Even if the hotel charges a little extra for the privilege, pay it. There’s hot food (admittedly the runny eggs, the weird boiled-tomato thing, and the sausage that doesn’t really taste like sausage are a little scary), Danishes, toast, cereal, cut fruit, whole fruit, juice, milk….you get the point. And there’s always the opportunity to take an extra roll and banana for later. Just be a little more discreet about it than one lady I saw. She had her big plastic bag right on top of the table and was shoveling in the food.

Back to the issue at hand. It wasn’t as if the waiters weren’t diligent about serving tea; they went to every other table about every five minutes. I must look too young and too American to be much of a tea drinker. Appearances can be deceiving. Give me some tea already! Eventually, I would have to ask and they would fill my cup with delicious, piping hot tea. I wonder if it would have tasted so good if I didn’t have to wait.