Thinking About Thinking

I’ve been thinking about frugality lately. I started for practical reasons, I need to make better use of my money. This was originally a short-term goal, but the more I think about it, the more I think that it should be a lifetime goal, a value.

Being frugal is not the same as being cheap, or even being thrifty. Those focus on spending as little as possible. Frugality is about the mindful use of resources. That phrase “mindful use of resources” came from my dictionary and I just love it. I’ve been rolling it around on my tongue all day. It doesn't have to be all about money, there are all kinds of resources I should be more mindful of. I can hardly claim to be the Queen of Green, but I do my best. I try to save energy, recycle, reduce and reuse whenever I can.

Mindful is, I think, the key word. Whenever I rinse out a can or resist turning up the thermostat, I am reminded about why I do those things. The simple actions of living green remind me to do so, and reinforce my commitment to do so. Furthermore, I’m reminded of how lucky I am to have the option. There are people who can’t afford to heat their homes, people who can’t afford thick sweaters and hot chocolate to stave off the cold, people who don’t have homes at all. My sweaters and hot chocolate don’t seem like luxuries compared to some, but there are others who would think so.

I think gratitude is inherent to contentment. It’s all too easy to look at those who have more and feel bitter. It’s harder to be thankful for what you have, especially when that doesn’t seem like very much. But when I can manage it, I can be happy, and it makes the road easier.

There’s a transit strike in my city right now, so last weekend I walked to the mall to meet friends. It’s a 45 minute walk and it was dark, windy and snowing. It would have been easy to call a cab, or to spend the whole time wishing I had a car, but I really focused on this walk. I thought about co-worker who has a physical disability. She lives far from the office and relies on transit. She said, “Thank goodness I have friends I can get a ride from”. If she can be thankful for that, I can certainly be thankful for my strong legs. I also made myself think about my good boots and coat, my warm mittens, my mp3 player (which certainly isn’t fancy but sure made the walk more fun) and all the wonderful people I was walking to see. Honestly, by the time I got to the theatre I was in a pretty good mood. Plus, I’d saved $15 and a couple litres of gas and gotten some exercise to boot.

It’s really hard, it takes a lot of discipline, to be mindful all the time. But even after such a short time I’m already seeing the benefit. I’m finished with the diet/binge pattern of spending that I’ve been on, I’m tired of feast and famine. I want my spending to reflect what I value, and not convenience or impulse. I want to be mindful of how I use all my resources, and how lucky I am to have those resources in the first place.

An Unsponsored Recommendation

Robin Hood Nutri-Blend flour is awesome. I don't normally recommend products, because I genuinely believe that, for the most part, one brand is as good as any other. And that may be true in this case as well, but Robin Hood is the only one offering this in Newfoundland right now.

I'm sorry, I'm so excited I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me back up.

I am fairly committed to healthy eating 80% of the time. Besides the obvious health benefits, I like the wholesome feeling I get from eating healthy foods. My brother's godfather always credited his health to a simple credo: "avoid the three deadly white powders; white sugar, salt, and white flour." This has always been held up to us as an example of disciplined healthy eating. I don't follow it. I do try to keep it in mind, and reduce those ingredients. Can I use honey instead of sugar? Can I half the salt? Will whole wheat flour work? Sometimes yes, but sometimes no. And those times when it's no I go ahead with the white powder, because I do need my treats sometimes.

So, I eat whole wheat bread, muffins and pasta, because those taste really good, but never whole wheat cakes, cookies, or pizza crusts, because they don't. Or do they???????

I first heard about "white whole wheat flour" from Orangette. She wrote about a flour that had all the wonderful properties of white flour (the lightness, the flavour, the texture) while still having all the fibre and nutrition of whole wheat flour. Apparently the difference is in how the flour is processed. It seemed incredible, but I could not find the brand she mentioned in St. John's and I certainly was not about to start ordering my flour online. It remained a far-away dream.

Until a month or so ago. There, in my grocery store, was Robin Hood Nutri-Blend Flour, making the exact same claim. I quickly bought a bag, even though it was more than I'd usually spend. (It was about $3.50 for a 2kg bag. I usually buy the 10kg bag for $7. Once in a rare while I get it on sale for $5).

I tried it out on the recipe that Orangette had used it for, "Everyday Cake" (see link below). The first thing that I noticed was that the swapping of flour did not make for a particularly healthy dessert. The cake still calls for a fair bit of butter and sugar. But it was an improvement over white flour. Also, it was delicious. Boyfriend and I agreed that it was a phenomenal cake, and were quite sure that we wouldn't be able to tell the difference with white flour.

So I put it to a harder test: pizza dough. I seriously hate whole wheat pizza crusts. They never taste right. The biggest problem is that pizza dough is such a basic recipe, the flavour of the flour is front and centre. You don't think about it that way, but there is nothing else to taste in pizza dough. Whole wheat flour gives it a lot of that whole-wheaty taste. That's great to have in bread or muffins, but not in my pizza.

I was a little worried about it when I saw it. The dough was definitely off-colour, much darker than my usual crust, but I needn't have worried. It tasted perfect. The product had lived up to the hype.

I still use regular whole wheat flour for everything I always used to. And I use white flour for those desserts which are so decadent as to be unsalvageable, such as frosted cakes or butter cookies. But for my more in-between desserts, everyday cakes and cookies, I use the new flour. A bit more nutrtious, without having to compromise a thing.

http://orangette.blogspot.com/2009/04/about-cake.html

* Robin Hood has given me exactly nothing to endorse this product. But if they'd like to.....

How I Buy Books

First, an experiment:

Does a picture of my kitten, Stringer Bell appear there? If so, I'll post more pictures in the future.











Now, on to books. I buy them a lot. I got this from my father, who always talked about collecting beautiful and rare books, and having a supply of unread ones against a rainy day. Or a sunny day, both are good for reading. In the days before my budget, it was not at all unusual for me to buy 2-3 books a week, every week. Even since the budget, I still buy 3 or 4 a month. Some months more, like last April when I bought over 30.

Obviously used books make up the bulk of these purchases. Unlike my father I like paperbacks and am less concerned with the look of a book. Although I certainly do appreciate beautiful hardcovers, I don't generally buy them because he has so many and is generous about lending them to me, as long as I am very, very careful with them. I buy books to carry in my purse and read in the lunch room or on the bus.

Used bookstores are where I stock up on writers like Margaret Atwood, Timothy Findley, Robertson Davies, Graham Greene and other old reliables. Writers that I know I'll enjoy whatever they have to have to offer me. I don't need to read the back cover or check out a review. I'll get something out of it, anyway.

My number one favourite books to read can now only be found in used book stores. These are the Penguin paperbacks that were published in the 1970s. This has less to do with the content and more to do with the construction, although there are so many authors published this way. Lots of Hemmingways, Waughs, Conrads and others, as well as shorter classics. By shorter I here mean less than four hundred pages. Unlike modern paperback binders, the Penguins of this era were not so foolish as to try to construct a 1000 page novel that will not fall apart upon second reading. These paperbacks have the most wonderful paper. It's not stark white, but a very light cream and the feel of the paper is incredibly soft and just a bit thick, the print leaving a visible indent. I believe it is impossible to get a papercut from one of these. These may be a result of aging, but the effects remain the same. They have a simple illustration on the front cover, a blurb and a couple of reviews on the back (both covers are cream-coloured as well). The spine is orange with white type, not unlike the blogger template, now that I think about it. These become illegible after multiple readings, but the binding always holds together. Probably why there are so many of them still around after 40 years.

For larger classics I look for hardcovers from the 40s, 50s and 60s. These are often very small, just about 4 or 5 inches tall, so they fit perfectly in my hand. They usually have tiny print, which is a downside but a reasonable compromise to have a book of reasonable size. More than once I've had to limit my reading of a book that was too heavy to hold in one hand. My hands are small and peculiarly weak. This is something I'm working on. These are especially good for writers like George Elliot and Charles Dickens, and other behemoths of their type.

As for new books, there are no shortage of these either. Boyfriend and I usually go to Chapters at least a couple of times a month just for something to do. We get fancy coffees and wander the stacks, making mental lists. It's hard to resist the bargain section, which has been a good source for reference books like "Grandma's Household hints" and an illustrated book of Saints. You can sometimes find leftover hardcovers of books that have just come out as paperbacks. I got Lisa Moore's "Alligator" for $5 this way.

Which reminds me of a rant I'd like to have. This concerns paperbacks priced $17-$25. This is unreasonable. I understand that they generally higher quality, but the purpose of a paperback is to provide a cheaper option for a book. Hardcovers coming in at $40 in unreasonable too, but that's a bit less crazy. I will not pay that much.

So for recent books I look to other sources. Primarily amazon.ca and, to a lesser extent, Costco. Yes, you heard that right, I buy books at costco. The selection is small, and generally only current or recent bestsellers, but they're generally about 40% off the cover price.

Mostly, though, I use amazon.ca. I also get my cds and dvds there. You can generally count on 20%-30% off, and shipping is free with a $35 purchase. I've also started using www.swagbucks.com for further discounts on amazon. (swagbucks is kind of hard to explain, but if you do start using it, tell them thestuckduck sent you). This is where I go for Nick Hornby, Tom Robbins, Muriel Bradbery, Allan Bradley, cookbooks and other more recent books. Most of the same editions that go for $25 at Chapters can be had at $14, which is much better. I also do nearly all my Christmas shopping here, because I can do it in 15 minutes from my couch. It helps to already know what you're getting everyone.

So that's it, that's all my advice and bookbuying. I am also a big proponent of book-lending and book sharing, and any other means of bringing a book into your life.

Home Made Ice Cream: The Agony and the Ecstasy

The plan to make my own ice cream started a while ago. I’m not sure exactly when, a year at least. I planned and plotted this out for a while.

I don’t know why I always want to try to make everything myself. It’s a compulsion that started in childhood, when I would carefully sew pillows for my dolls and trim them with my stringy, awkwardly crocheted lace (Usually blackened by my dirty fingers by the time it was ready to be attached.

I guess it comes from the feeling of connection I have with things I’ve made, I talked about this a bit in my post about hand-made gifts. Also, the sense of pride I get from having produced something tangible. Either way, as ice cream and making things are my two favourite things, it was inevitable that I’d try my hand at ice cream making.

I ordered David Liebowitz’s book, “The Perfect Scoop” from Amazon a few months ago. The fuss the food blog community made over this book was more than recommendation enough. It seemed that even looking at another ice-cream recipe was tantamount to heresy. Over the following weeks I’d pick up the good book, casually flip through the pages, admire the bright photos, marvel at the exotic recipe names.

Then came The Big Move. Obviously all thoughts of making anything were pushed aside (although I did eat a shocking amount of store bought ice cream in this time). On one expedition to Wal-Mart for house things, I did find a Hamilton Beach ice cream maker on sale for $35. Not the fanciest model, by any means, but the price was right. It was actually one of the first things moved into the new house, as I laid it on a shelf when I walked in and there it sat for over a month.

After the move was the trip, and then there were guests. And then I didn’t want to do much of anything for a while. Finally Boyfriend returned and settled in. Last week was Labour Day, and the time was finally right.

Saturday over dinner we decided that we were really going to do it this time. Knowing that the canister needed to freeze for 24 hours, I popped it into the freezer, and we were on our way! Sunday, we bought the ingredients for chocolate ice cream (of course we were starting with chocolate, do you even know us?). This meant going to the grocery store and buying a 2L of 2% milk (we needed that anyway) 1L of whole milk, and a half litre of cream. Fortunately I’m immune to strange looks from my cashier at the grocery store.

Back home, I set about the recipe, with Boyfriend near by for amusement and support. It was an awfully fussy recipe. Heat this, chill that, strain, use every bowl in the house, etc. I got a bit frustrated here and there, but my frequent tastings assured me that I was making something delicious. Finally ready, we double checked the instructions and saw that the batter also had to chill for 24 hours. Darn. Into the fridge it went, and we waited another day.

Holy cow, I forgot to mention that we got a baby kitten during this time! His name is Stringer Bell and he’s 8 weeks old. He’s the cutest thing in the history of cute things, but isn’t allowed to have ice cream and so is unrelated to this blog post.

Monday night finally came. Our long weekend over, back to work and school the following day, it was at last time to make ice cream. I put together the machine, poured in the mixture (spilling a lot of it down the stove and onto the floor in the process) and waited. And waited. And waited. Our mixture did not become ice cream. It did not look like it would become ice cream. This was pretty disappointing.

We decided to save the mixture and try again tomorrow. As we poured it from the machine into a container we realized, we had way too much of it. The instructions for the machine had cautioned against using more than a litre, but as the recipe claimed to produce a litre we hadn’t thought much of it. As it happened, if you include what had spilled, we had nearly 2. We put the batter back in the fridge, washed the canister and put it back in the freezer, and waited another day.

After work on Tuesday, we made one last try. This time we only put in a half litre and, with fingers crossed, tried again. It took a little longer than the instructions said, and had a consistency more like melty soft serve, but it was ice cream! And it was the most delicious ice cream I have ever tasted. I’m not exaggerating, and I have eaten an awful lot of ice cream. It was so rich, but just shy of too rich, so creamy, so …. Perfect! It was unreal. It was worth it.

We made the rest of the batch the next day, with the same results. We wound up with about 1.5L all together (not including that which was spilled) and after a night in the freezer it had the consistency of regular ice cream.

I figure that this ice cream cost $4-$5 for ingredients. I can get ice cream for that much or maybe cheaper if I watch for sales. But not the brands I like. Premium ice cream costs more, Breyer's runs $6.99-$8.49 for 1.5L, Moo Moo's (local) is $15 per 1.5L, and Hagan-Daaz is a staggering $21. I think the taste of my ice cream ranks up with the higher end, maybe better.

There's obviously a bigger time commitment, but that sort of thing doesn't bother me too much. I like concocting. It's worth it for me. Besides, in time I may be able to streamline the process, I foresee quite a lot of home made ice cream in my future!

Introspection and Cabbage

"Know thyself" said the Greeks. Maybe Socrates, maybe someone else. Thoreau left society to live alone in the woods in order to accomplish this, among other reasons.

Why the philosophy? I don't know. Maybe because I'm considering my life and where it's going. I've been spending more time alone than usual, which as Thoreau discovered causes those sorts of thoughts to spring forth.

I've been spending time alone because I've been living alone, for the first time in my life. I've had roommates since moving away from home. Technically this place is not mine alone, Boyfriend will be moving in with me. But he's spent the summer on the Northern Peninsula and I've been on my own in this house for nearly two months.

There have been times when the solitude has been a relief, even a joy. After a heavy day at work, or a week that's found me busy every night. It's wonderful to have a space over which I had complete control, a place where there was no need to consider anyone else at all. Music if I wanted it, silence if I didn't. No mess if I didn't make one, and no one else judging my mess if I did.

There have been other times, when the solitude has become emptiness. Where my house, instead of seeming large, became tight, closed and oppressive. One Saturday morning I dashed out to the grocery store, just to be around people. I'd only been on my own since the previous afternoon, but at that moment it was more than I could handle.

What have I learned in this time? I think I do well enough on my own, but I do need other people. I need someone to share my life with. I can make a house feel like home all by myself, but I want to share my home. Not with just anyone, but with someone I love who loves me, to share not just my home, but my life. Boyfriend will return from his Northern adventure next week, and he'll move in then. And I'm ready for that.

The other issue about living alone is the cooking. I discussed this in an earlier post, but I find very little pleasure in cooking just for myself. It doesn't seem worth the time or the dishes. I eat tuna sandwiches, cheesy eggs, and veggies from the market. Almost all my meals are forgettable.

Except this one:

In a fit of loneliness the other evening, I decided to make the ultimate comfort food. It had to be warm and mushy, to start. It had to have cabbage (because the cabbage couldn't wait any longer to be cooked) and it needed to have chicken-soup levels of comfort.

I started with a recipe from I Know How to Cook By Ginette Mathiot but I changed it a lot. That's something new for me. Maybe when I'm feeding myself I'm more likely to take risks? Who knows. Anyway, I came up with the following, which was everything I needed it to be:

Comfort Cabbage

Half a large cabbage, sliced to ribbons
An onion, chopped
1-2 Tbs olive oil
1 slice prosciutto, ripped to bits
1 cup chicken broth

Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat, then stir in the onions. Add a pinch of sugar to help them brown. When they start to brown a little, add the cabbage and stir to coat. Pour the broth over and reduce heat to a low simmer. Simmer for about an hour, stirring occasionally. Done!

The Air Freshener Rant

I hate air fresheners, room scents, and anything created by the Glade company. Strong words, but carefully considered.

I should mention I do not have a problem with scents, even artificial scents in general. I am an avid collector of perfumes, and I wear one almost every day (but never at the office, because I'm a stickler for rules). The difference is that for perfume we're talking about a half drop selected by myself that no one else can smell. I frequently do checks on this with either Boyfriend or other friends, "Can you smell me now? How about now? No? Good!" A scent can be a very personal thing. Room scents, on the other hand, fill the air, and everyone has to smell them. Moreover, I find most of them unpleasant. Scented oils are heavy, incense is smokey, and those awful aerosols and plug-in things just smell like a chemical swamp. I was excited by the claims of febreeze when it first came out, as it was advertised as a product that would eliminate smells without covering them up. I imagined a sort of spray baking soda. It's not. It smells like febreeze, which smells awful. I recently read about a woman who, when she was too busy to clean would squirt windex into the air to trick guests into thinking she had. It always worked and I bet smelled better than febreeze.

I don't see what's wrong with having your house smell like it does naturally. I open the windows as often as I can and I clean regularly. My house smells fine. I use baking soda in the fridge, the garbage and anywhere else that a bad smell might have a chance to grow and that takes care of that. I have the added advantage that I bake frequently, so my house often smells like baking. That's all the perfume it needs.

There are times, however, when the house gets a bit stale. I experienced this a few weeks ago when we had some pretty warm weather. There was no breeze coming in through the windows and, even though the house was clean, the air was heavy and sticky. I had guests staying with me and I knew they would be tired when they arrived. I wanted my house to be fresh and refreshing, I wanted it to smell like lemons. There's an easy and cheap way to do this without using lemon scented air wick. (I can only assume that whoever created this product has never actually encountered a lemon)

The only room-scenting technique I have ever employed comes from an old "Hints from Heloise" column. One of the few that doesn't involve re-using old containers. Basically, boil some cinnamon. It makes your house smell like cinnamon. Duh. So simple, and so perfect. Now, the cinnamon part has never quite worked for me, as the smell makes me crave it so badly that I usually wind up dropping whatever I was busy with to make a coffee cake. But this technique works with almost anything. The evening my guests were to arrive I put a few drops of lemon juice in bowls which I placed around the house. I then boiled the kettle and poured the water into the bowls. The cold bowls increased the steam, which quickly dispersed through the air. Each room was immediately freshened, and had just a slight hint of real lemon. Less than five minutes, barely costing a penny and no huffing mystery chemicals. Ta da!

July has been kind of a crazy month. For one thing, I moved with 8 days notice. When I was starting the process I thought how I did it might make for an interesting blog post, but I did everything wrong, so I really can’t give anyone advice on this particular topic. I'’m not far enough removed from the various disasters for them to be funny yet, so I won’t be talking much about them either.
In the midst of this chaos, I hopped on a plane to St. Anthony to visit Boyfriend. Boyfriend is working as a Viking this summer, as part of the Norstead Theatre Festival. Norstead is the recreation of a Viking trading community circa 1000 AD built near the archaeological site at L'’Anse aux Meadows, where the Vikings actually did settle 1000 years ago. It’s something I always wanted to see, and with Boyfriend there (for three months!) I had the perfect excuse.
It was a wonderful vacation, although the weather was bad. On a foggy day I climbed to the lookout point on top of a cliff, where I could see the waves crash on shore and the mist swirl around the sod longhouses. On a rainy windy day I retreated into one of those longhouses, with strawberry plants growing on the roof, and sat around the fire with ladies in full Viking dress. One of these, called Olga on the site but Violet outside, taught me naalbinding. Naalbinding is the technique Norse women used to knit hats, mittens and socks. It uses only one needle, about 3 inches long, flat and made of Caribou bone. The needle is threaded and worked through loops on the opposite thumb. As much as I love crochet I’'ve never mastered knitting, which can be frustrating as it’s much better for practical items. Perhaps two needles are just too many for me. Naalbinding might be the answer. Boyfriend has promised to bring a needle home with him when he comes.
When off site, I stayed with Boyfriend and two of his co-workers, P&N in a modern 2 bedroom apartment. Since they were hosting me and saving me the cost of accommodation, I wanted to do something nice for them. If you know me, you already know this means I did some cooking. There were a couple of challenges to this. First, they are only there for the summer, so they only brought the necessities in terms of equipment. Second, I didn’'t want to buy a lot of ingredients that wouldn'’t get used up. Finally, P is a vegetarian, something I’m not used to considering.
The first day I made Marcella Hazan’'s fabulous tomato and onion sauce, because it was easy and they had all the ingredients on hand (Put ¼ cup butter, one onion, one large can of tomatoes in a pot. Season with salt and pepper, simmer for 45 minutes) I served it over rigatoni, because that’s what was there. The second day we went to the grocery store where I bought ingredients for quiche, pizza, and chili.
I used a pot for a mixing bowl, a beer bottle for a rolling pin (I know a wine bottle is classier, but hey, we were Vikings, after all) and when the chili wouldn't fit in the pot I split it into two pots.
Like most vacations it was over way too fast and I was plunged back into the chaos that is my house. But more on that later, when I'm ready