Exciting game...

Headed to another tourney weekend today, with A. coming along for the ride. This weekend, the grownups are playing--just a few brackets of men, women, and over-fifties playing in the last days of the tournament.

I had a men's rec game as soon as I rolled into town this afternoon. These can get heated very quickly, and the officials were warned as a group to "have your cards warmed up." I took the advice to heart: we had eight yellow cards (two of the players on the winning team were ejected for double yellows)! Even with this impressive number, my game was not the most interesting of the day. A few fields over, there were six yellows, three reds, and a bench-clearing brawl!

Hopefully, we all survive the weekend...if we do, it will be a great time! I'm already psyched for tomorrow's games.

Experimentation pays off.

The experiment of the day?

Raspberry Buttermilk Cake, courtesy of Deb at smitten kitchen.

Soon-to-be family dessert, a gift for the lovely M., M., and B., who are hosting me once again this weekend as I travel out of town to soccer, and a treat brought to dinner with other friends later this week. Because it's that good. This is like eating a cakeful of muffins.


Did I sneak a few raspberries, here and there, when no one was looking? Were there zero reservations in my soul when I licked the spoon, spatula, and bowl once these beauties were in the oven? Have I already picked over the broken pieces of one cake (sorry, cake, next time I will use flour and Pam), before dessert has actually been served?


You bet your ass.

So many documentaries, so little time.

New obsession for the rest of the summer:

Documentary Heaven

I've wanted to watch Jesus Camp since I missed the Collegetown screening ages ago. Now, I can listen as I bake tomorrow (hurrah)...and keep an eye out for all the other films I've wanted to see, but couldn't. They don't have Very Young Girls up, yet, which came through the C-Town film festival last year, but even watching a single selection from every category (911 and Activist all the way to Space, Technology, and War) would take me months.

Time to settle in and make some popcorn (or possibly cake)...

UPDATE: I did watch Jesus Camp while making the amazing muffin-raspberry-blueberry-buttermilk cakes above, and the sublimity of the cake was almost counterbalanced by the pure horror of watching kids being indoctrinated...wow. I'm twenty four minutes and thirty two seconds in, and I'm transfixed.

Marshmallow Brownie Bars

Oh. My. Goodness.

A. is the one who gets credit for discovering this one. Borders serves a pretty mean marshmallow-brownie confection in its coffeeshop. The first time he saw the treat, my smart boyfriend thought, "Hmm. That is probably tasty in its cooled, stable form, but I bet it would be delicious if I heated it up." He was right: it was delicious, gooey, chocolatey, marshmallowy, and perfect to split over good books (and a glass of milk, of course). When he shared his discovery with me, I ate, enjoyed, considered, and promised him I would make him a whole tray of these delights. It couldn't be that hard, right?

I have never been so happy to be right. Approximate directions follow:

Marshmallow Brownie Bars
1/2 bag of chocolate chips (in two 1/4 portions)
1/2 bag of mini marshmallows
Your favorite brownie recipe

Make brownies as you usually would, only adding one portion of the chocolate chips to your usual batter. Once brownies are fully baked, remove from oven, and mix together remaining chips and all marshmallows. Toss evenly over top of brownies. Let melt together. Cool if desired (these suckers are slippery when they're warm), but definitely reheat for ~15 seconds in the microwave before you enjoy.

I might add, this is the second recipe I've gotten a proposal out of. The first was a flourless chocolate cake with raspberry sauce--dark, rich, so very worth the money sunk into good chocolate. You can make this with slightly cheaper stuff: store-brand marshmallows, box brownie mix. For a richer treat, use less sweet chocolate chips. I pulled out the Ghirardelli 60% Cacao option for this, and it really turned out nicely.

Skipping ahead a bit...

I have posts (and even pictures) for Saturday and Sunday...I just haven't gotten around to posting them yet. Later today, I promise, once I've run to the store and started preparing new recipes for tonight. Family gets lasagna with homemade sauce, simply because we've got the canned tomatoes for it, and friends get Rocky Road brownie bars. Updates & recipes will follow, I'm sure.

I've also found another site to add to my list of favorite blogs: 101 Cookbooks. The spaghetti sauce recipe looks promising, as does the related recipe for pizza dough...hmmm. There are still a few weeks left before school starts; I could make some real headway into these recipes. (I still want to make smitten kitchen's cinnamon rolls, and buttermilk-raspberry pie, and celebration cake, and...There are so many delicious things in the world!)

Soccer weekend.

Friday and Saturday, I was out of town at a state tournament. The weekend trip was actually very nice--stayed with some friends, was able to go out on the town a bit Friday night and even grab lunch and a bit of shopping before I left Saturday afternoon. Even better, the weather cooperated with us, and the whole weekend was beautiful. (Note the neon referee shirts; who decided orange was a good color? At least I was able to dress in the dark...)



Sunday, it was back home to work in the league my dad runs. Again, a beautiful, clear day for soccer. This is an international league, so the level of play is a little higher, as are the stakes!--missing the wrong call can get you in a lot of trouble. Lately, I've been refereeing the friendly matches as practice for the college season. This Sunday's game went well, though I missed a few obvious offside calls, and second-guessed myself out of several fouls. (I used to be overly-sensitive, whistling a foul every time two opponents bumped shoulders. Now, I've gone the opposite way: when I see a foul, my first instinct is to whistle, but then I think, "Nah, that was probably okay..." Three seconds pass before I realize "Nope, it really wasn't." By then it's too late.)


I'm definitely learning. And it was a beautiful day for soccer. Tonight, the muscles are a bit tight and tired, but come Friday I'll be geared up for another tourney weekend...and taking possession of my very first apartment! Exciting times.

Educational, but sort of cool too.

I'm one-half Mexican, and love being that way. The food, the spirit, the huge numbers at family gatherings--being a part of that group has a way of making people feel very welcome, and very cared for. It's just what family does. Almost all of los tios y primos are fluently bilingual, so language doesn't form a barrier most of the time. The babies tend to understand both, but only respond to Spanish, so even those of us with a small Spanish vocabulary have a few pocket terms (sientate! cuidado! quieres pastel?).

My paternal grandparents understand both English and Spanish, but can only speak fluently in the latter. In my life, I've spent lots of quality time with my abuelita, learning how to make tortillas or chile, but I've never been able to hold a long, quality conversation with her. Dad tells stories of growing up in Mexico sometimes, and I know she must have many more.

Despite being a halfie, my level of language proficiency on the Spanish side is pretty low. I took four years of Spanish in high school, just like everyone else, and learned next to nothing. (It was high school--I can't really blame anyone for that.) That exempted me from college-level foreign language requirements, so I haven't learned and haven't been learning to speak Spanish.

I really want to. Besides the familial pull (which is pretty strong), there are a lot of practical reasons I need to learn Spanish. Sunday, I'll be refereeing more games in the local international league: mostly Hispanics, and entirely men. These games are a challenge even when there isn't a language barrier!--having at least a few phrases in my book will be necessary to run a good game. (arbitra! arbitra! un amarilla! una tarjeta!) When I teach, I often find Hispanic students in my classes, too: the average number is six, in a group of thirty. Of these, generally four are totally fluent in English, one is semifluent, and one will only respond to Spanish. Hablando espanol isn't just good for English language learners, either. Something about the language goes straight to the hindbrain of any child raised in a Spanish-speaking household--if a strong voice says eschuchame este momento, she's going to sit up and listen. I love conditioning.

Long story short, I need to learn Spanish. Even though this upcoming semester is going to be crazy busy, I'm going to start taking steps towards really learning the language. Jose, a referee I met a few weeks ago, really got on me at camp about speaking Spanish. During the long wait before flying home, we had the longest Spanish conversation I've had in a long time. I found myself remembering how to say some things, and wishing I had the words for others. He promised to write to me in Spanish, to give me a chance to practice--and he has! Composing four lines this morning took me half an hour and all that Google could give me, but I wrote them. It's a good way to jump back into all the vocabulary and form that I've forgotten...and a good primer for joining a conversation club once I move back to school. I feel good about it, y espero que hablando espanol con facilidad a este tiempo el ano proximo.

(Or at least, I hope I've made a start.)

Happiness is simple sometimes.

Very simple. White styrofoam, vanilla frozen custard-simple. And if happiness comes with fresh, syrupy peaches, whipped cream, and a cherry on top, well, who could ask for more?

(Chatting with A. and verynearlyalmostnotquite being treated to said sundae were bonuses. He can buy if he wants, but I have no objections to paying for a little cup of heaven.)

Productive Wednesday.

This week, I've been on a real cleaning/working kick, though I have no idea where it came from, or how long it's staying. May as well take advantage of it while I can!

I've mercilessly burned through my closet, only keeping the things I love, I wear, and that fit; the no-man's-land under my bed is clean; the spices, odds & ends, and Tupperware cabinets have been purged and organized. The bathroom is clean, the coffee table has been Windexed, and dinner components are assembled and ready. I went to the gym this morning, met up with a friend for coffee, polished off a bit of paperwork, cleaned things, and checked my credit report.

What is going on?...summer should be filled with lounging, sunning, and watching bad t.v. (which I made a little time for, too). Being responsible is all well and good, but I'm off to goof off for a while. I have a level 10 rogue yearning for 11 and a trip to the Undercity. Tallyho!

(When it comes to goofing off, is there a better option than WoW? I haven't found one yet. Besides, it's kind of gray today. And I'm lazy. It's definitely a video game afternoon.)

Surprise!

I just re-discovered some forgotten pictures on my camera. They're nothing big, really very quiet, just preparation/warm-up photos for my grandmother's surprise seventieth birthday party. The shindig happened the Friday before the Fourth of July, and in the rush of preparation, these were actually the only photos I took! My aunts and mom managed to snap several rolls before the night ended, and are still in the process of scrapbooking everything together. Still, I like these.


It was a beautiful afternoon for a party--just sunny enough, and cool under the shade. We begged and borrowed enough tables & chairs for everyone (just barely), and covered the lot with simple, hemmed tablecloths. We also set up the horseshoes and Hillbilly Golf. If you haven't played this latter option, Google it and try it sometime. My brothers get into pretty fierce competitions.


Any glasses or pitchers we could find, we filled with daisies and bright, sunny flowers. My aunts and I arranged them ourselves--by the time we finished, our hands were pruny from being underwater, but we had a small army of vases and flower bowls.


The backyard offered some of its own color, too. My Bomma had no idea what we were planning!--when she walked up the block to our house, she thought the whole family was going out to dinner at a fancy (made-up) restaurant. Her local friends and neighbors were a huge surprise, but even better was having cousins and girlfriends from the old town--a two-hour drive isn't impossible, but with her eyesight and uncertainties about the road, it's a difficult trip. Celebrating brought everyone together again, and made for a very nice birthday present.

Baking is great.

Baking something new is even greater.

Baking something new for friends? I'm in heaven. (And a little bit of hell, too, as I cross my fingers furiously and hope nothing goes wrong.)

Tonight, I attempted a plum (and peach, since I had enough dough) galette. The term is French, and refers to a round, flat sort of pastry...the literal translation may be "too cheap for a pie pan". Which, incidentally, didn't matter at all, as the end result was completely delicious, and very simple!

The best part, of course, was the crust. Buttery, flaky, just perfectly sweet against the tartness in the plums---mmm. I could write sonnets about this pie crust, but for now, I'll settle on putting the recipe somewhere I can find it.

Justin's Pie Crust

2 1/2 cups flour
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup shortening
1 stick butter
ice water

* Mix dry ingredients.
* Mix in the shortening by hand and combine thoroughly.
* Cut in the butter. (Small pieces, but they should still be individual pieces--no melting it first or anything. This is important to make sure the end result is flaky.)
* Add water a little bit at a time while you mix it into the dough. You want to add just enough to make it stick together.
* Divide it in half and flatten into disks before refrigerating for a couple of hours to let the gluten relax a little bit. After that, you can finish rolling them out to the size you want. (He suggests doing this between sheets of waxed paper so the dough doesn't stick to your rolling pin. Good advice.)

To add even more luxury to the already-extravagant crust, I brushed a little beaten egg on the edges of the ready-to-be-baked pie and sprinkled sugar on top. The golden glaze that results is worth the extra effort.



The filling was a Frankenstein-esque effort. Should I use ginger, cinnamon, or cardamom? Brown sugar or white? Raisins or pecans or both? How many plums should I use? In the end, I went with five nice, ripe plums, sliced, tossed with a half-cup of brown sugar and a teaspoon of cardamom, then left to macerate for ~30 minutes. The chopped pecans went in the mix last, and the whole mess was spread in the middle of the pie crust (which, at this point, I rolled into the neighborhood of 1/6 inch thick). 375 degrees and 35 minutes later, this was staring me in the face.


A., L., and J. ate nearly the whole thing. Boy, am I glad the crust recipe made enough for two...it's peach time.

Quick posts for the weekend.

Saturday, Mom and I found time to snag pedicures. She got really into having her feet fixed up while I was in high school, and for a long time I was her pedicure buddy. We'd go after school, once we ran through the grocery store or during my little brothers' soccer practice. It was nice time together, and our toes did always look pretty afterwards! Once in a while, when I'm in town, we find time to go together. It was a pretty busy weekend, but we managed to find time! (Bonus: hot orange polish. Summer isn't over yet, even if it is cool and rainy.)

Sunday brought the whole family (significant others included) out to the soccer fields. We did a lot of business, shut down a few troublemakers, dissected a few referees, ate tacos, and generally had a good day together. Extra bonus: A.'s parents invited me over for dinner, and since he had obligingly spent the afternoon with us, I had no choice to oblige back! (Plus, his dad is a phenomenal cook.)
The rest of the family is fresh off a vacation at the beach, and brought new recipes back with them. One of my favorites?

The "Bama Breeze". The recipe at this page is the original, and includes a few extra ingredients, but I enjoyed it quite a bit with just vodka, a splash of soda, & cranberry juice. Making it virgin takes none of the fun away, I promise!

Massive update!

Ref Camp was fantastic--met a lot of great people, learned a lot of new tricks, had time to practice old ones, stayed up too late, ran around a lot, drank more water than I thought a body could hold, navigated three airports successfully on my own, and in general had a wonderful experience. If there are any referees out there reading this, and you have the chance, go to camp! You won't regret it.

Look at the focus!

Quick summary of the days & posts I missed:

Sunday:

Slept very little, flew successfully, met cool roommates (four whole women referees! four!), was tapped to run a center the very first night. Succeeded.

Final day before Ref Camp.

I'm excited, nervous, terrified, ready for it to begin and ready for it to be over with at the same time. Now, if I could just finish packing, we could get this show on the road.

Not sure yet how faithful I will be with updates for the next four or five days--I'll have Internet access, but a very busy schedule. At the very least, there will be a wrap-up once I'm home and have recovered from jet lag.

(Boy oh boy, I hope I don't embarrass myself...fall on my face, give a card to a player, not give a card when I should, look weird, say something dumb...

Workin' at the fields...

Number Two Son and my grandfather were busy with appointments today (one academic, one medical), so my dad and Number One Son needed a third person's assistance at the soccer fields. My turn...

It was a full day of yard work, essentially. It took the three of us three hours to mow all of the grass, during which time it started and stopped raining. After that, we turned to weed whacking--at least, until the rain started up again. There's still more whacking to do, as well as painting and restocking the concession stand, but we made a real dent in the to-do list.

And (possibly the crowning moment of the day) I got to drive the Big Dog. There aren't any pictures of this, since we had a deadline to meet, but just picture a huge, gray-and-rust tractor. Huge metal steering wheel, big tires, lots of noise, slow but responsible for pulling four feet of lawnmowing apparatus. Not gonna lie, it was a pretty sweet ride.

Then my dad kicked me off, and told me to go ride the John Deere, which is nothing so much like a golf card that cuts grass. I can deal with that!

Perfect evening for tapas.

Little brother turned eighteen today (happy birthday!), so the family went out for a nice dinner in his honor. Pictures soon to come, as soon as I can figure out my mother's camera, but suffice to say that there were many things present that made me happy: family, celebration, great food, chocolate dessert, and sangria. Lovely evening.

Queso de Cabra al Horno--possibly the most delicious bread-and-cheese combo in the world.

Great show.

No Doubt played a show in St. Louis today. I didn't hear about it until sometime last week--the radio announcer seemed more excited about Paramore, the tour's "featured" band, but it sounded like it would be a fun, solid concert. I grew up while No Doubt became big: I sang along to "Don't Speak" without really knowing the words, and danced like a crazy kid when the deejay played "Just a Girl" at my middle-school dances. Paramore isn't bad, either. A. compared them to the Evanescence of our generation: very hooky, strong female vocalist, a little angsty but still admittedly decent, fun music. (They even both have striking ties/similarities to vampires.)

This was A.'s first concert, and a total success. There was a pretty young crowd there to see Paramore, staying very quiet until the sun went down...then they felt comfortable enough to dance. We spotted a little girl dancing on her daddy's shoulders--adorable. The band put on a good show, though (in A.'s words) they weren't "performers" yet. Maybe next summer they'll be ready to headline a tour through smaller venues, but the lead singer (Haley) started having voice troubles 2/3 of the way through their 30 minute set. I can sympathize with the need to train!

Once No Doubt took the stage, though, there was zero doubt in anyone's mind that these were performers. Rock stars. We danced all night and went home happy. One of my favorite numbers (thanks Youtube):

Workout buddies!

Nerd Camp was a treat in that I was able to work out several mornings with a running buddy. Generally, I train alone--none of my friends or acquaintances need a regimen like mine, other than people I know through soccer. Having someone else there is helpful, both in motivation (i can keep up with her), difficulty (talking while running is hard), and occasionally just plain getting your ass kicked (how can she be lapping me again?!). I like it when I can get it.

Lately, I've been jogging (on my own) to a park about .6 m. from my house. The math becomes easier at the end of the day: .6 there, .6 back, and a track that everyone swears is 1/3 m. around. I jog there, stretch, run a mile, die, stretch again, and jog back home exhausted but happy. Occasionally, during the final die/stretch segment, there will be other joggers taking a break. I swear, the chattiest people in my town go to this park: we've had fifteen or twenty-minute-long conversations around the park benches or water fountain!

The economy comes up often, as does President Obama. Today our big topic was motivation, especially in terms of change (though I suppose it doesn't take too much motivation to keep things the same). One woman very seriously believed that a change in thought is needed, is coming to the U.S. The teenager training for soccer felt that the first part of change was setting goals; I agreed that you needed a goal, and then you needed ways to get there and determination to stick it out, even on the bad days.

It's interesting to hear that this is the attitude around my community; it gives me a lot of hope. I know that it will be difficult to sustain, and an attitude doesn't immediately equal change, but it is a start. With luck, goals, and determination, maybe something will come of it.

Slowing down a bit post-holiday.

After school, finals, camp, family, birthdays, holidays, and a full day of soccer yesterday, it was time for a break.

A. and I took the afternoon for ourselves--some reading, some snuggling, some World of Warcraft (yes, we're dorks, but we're dorks together), and an early dinner at a local place. It was essentially our ideal afternoon, and a great way to relax after a long month away. Once we parted ways, I met up with a girlfriend and fellow Nerd Camp counselor for a bit of shopping, then headed for the bookstore on my own.

For three hours, I wouldn't let myself convince or guilt myself into finding somewhere "useful" to be. With camp and family, I tried to be everywhere at once, and left myself in the dust. It was hard, at first, to let go of the gnawing "Shouldn't you be somewhere? Aren't you needed at home? Isn't there something productive you should be doing?"

Halfway through a fizzy juice and a Pratchett novel, I settled into my answer. Nope, there really wasn't anywhere else for me to be--this was precisely the spot.

Finalizing travel plans.

Ref Camp is on the horizon, and now that things have calmed down a little (Nerd Camp is over, as is my grandma's surprise 70th birthday party), I have time to start worrying about it.

Little brother and I are flying in together, sans parental supervision (woo). Even more exciting and anxiety-inducing, though, is the fact that this is my virgin journey into the world of travel purchases. I don't know what a "good" rate for a flight is. All I have are a few discount codes from teacher unions and student alumni associations, clutched feebly in my hands as the might of the entire travel industry bears down on me. Travelocity? Southwest? US Airways? Hotwire? Seat selection? Rental cars?

*faint*

Today, we did manage to straighten it all out. My dad booked a flight for us a week ago, while I was still herding teenagers...but it took until this morning to realize it would land us nearly four hours after registration for Ref Camp ended. Not great. Long story short, we searched, argued, compared, and ended up with a $500 credit with one airline and new tickets with another, safely arriving at our destination before registration ends. Whew.


The first time doing something new is always the hardest. That means booking a Roman holiday in December should be a breeze, right?...guys?...

Soundtrack for the day.

Youtube doesn't want me to embed videos today, but the link is below.

MGMT -- Time to Pretend

"Yeah, it's overwhelming, but what else could we do?
Get jobs in offices and wake up for the morning commute?"

I love it when reality contradicts crazy food fads/advice.

I've always been a bit sensititive about my weight. Mind you, this is not because I am or have always been huge--as a kid, I had the typical baby fat, but also played soccer and danced. As an adult, I run between two and three miles, three days a week, weight-training and only doing one mile on "off" days. I'm a size 8, 130 lb. woman who eats mostly fruits, veggies, and fiber, runs a 7:30 mile, and will beat the hell out of any doctor who says I could stand to lose a few.

But occasionally I obsess a bit about what I eat...or when I eat it, thanks to a doc who noted that at 133 and 5'2", I had a BMI that marked me as "slightly overweight," and I should cut out the late-night snacks. (And also that I should try to start an after-dinner walking group with my college girlfriends. Perhaps instead of running 8:00 miles and training every day?)

I adopted the "beat the hell out of people who say this" stance over a year ago, when the appointment took place, but still beat myself up when I eat after, say, seven p.m. or so--even when I'm eating dinner at 10 after refereeing from 4--9:30. A. and I quibble over this every so often...it always ends with him reminding me that, if I want my body to perform, I've got to feed it. Humph. (As we speak, he's actually out snagging Arby's for both of us. Yum.)

While he's gone, I have some time to kill. Enter a little independent research.

Scientists Dispel Late-Night Eating/Weight Gain Myth

Bust-a-Myth: Eating Late Makes You Gain Weight

Take that, well-intentioned-but-incorrect medical advice. My food is here, and I'm hungry.