Unread Library, an update

I started my Unread Library project in July, 2010, and aside from a post here and there, I haven’t mentioned it since. Come to think of it, I don’t even think I explained the impetus behind the project! Last summer, right before we left for Lake Tahoe, I meant to stop for a few books, either from the library or from the bookstore. I also considered taking some of the many books I had laying around the house, but I wasn’t excited about the idea. Time got the best of me, and I was left with no choice but to pick from what I already owned. I brought Persuasion by Jane Austen, a book I had sitting on my shelves for over ten years.

I brought it to the beach and struggled with it a bit at first, having been out of practice reading classic literature and critical reading in general. I kept at it, mainly from lack of options, and decided to approach it much like I did law school. Back then, I couldn’t read a paragraph without a pen in hand. I underlined, marked, circled, and took notes along the margin of my casebooks so detailed there was little need for me to write out briefs (but I did).

For the first few paragraphs of Persuasion, hell, the first few pages, I used a mechanical pencil to underline while I read for no grander purpose than to slow down my eyes and mind enough to comprehend some of the text. Soon, my efforts were rewarded. Reading critically, it turns out, is like riding a bike.

Vanity was the beginning and the end of Sir Walter Elliot’s character; vanity of person and of situation. He had been remarkably handsome in his youth; and, at fifty-four, was still a very fine man. Few women could think more of their personal appearance than he did, nor could the valet of any new made lord be more delighted with the place he held in society. He considered the blessing of beauty as inferior only to the blessing of a baronetcy; and the Sir Walter Elliott, who united these gifts, was the constant object of his warmest respect and devotion. –Jane Austen, Persuasion, Chapter 1

I chuckled. That was funny. Even better, I caught the joke! Not long after that, I started to get into the story and the characters. I couldn’t put down the book I spent over ten years trying to read. And then, Captain Wentworth.

You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight and a half years ago. Dare not say that a man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. –Jane Austen, Persuasion, Chapter 23

Hello there, big boy.

So I got to thinking, maybe there were other great books I was missing out on because I was afraid of the hard work it might take to read them, that the part of my brain I needed to read literature had long ago turned to mush. I decided since Persuasion was good, so might be many of the other books I had collecting dust. That didn’t stop me from buying a few more books in Lake Tahoe when I stumbled across a bookstore going out of business, but that’s actually part of the story. I bought those books on the condition they became part of my yet to be named Unread Library. A few weeks later, I pulled the trigger on my plan and committed to it here on the blog. It was the best thing I could have ever done.

My critical reading has improved. I’m not up to where I was in college, but I am close. Actually, maybe I am better because I have 15 years of life experience to bring to the table. I find that I am able to understand the themes from an emotional perspective as well as a critical one. I value more what I am reading because I can relate to it better.

I’m constantly inspired. Captain Wentworth, with all his impassioned speeches, ended up inspiring a number of posts here, as many of you know (here is the first). My Compositions series is in large part funded by the reading I do from my Unread Library. Notes for novel and short story ideas litter many of the pages, too.

I feel better about myself. I’m not a dumb girl, but as one of a two stay at home moms in a large circle of professional women, I sometimes feel a bit…insecure. Reading literature makes me feel smart, or at least like I am doing something to better myself.

A little more than six months after starting the project, I have read 12 of the 45 books in my Unread Library. I’ve also read a few books off the shelf from the library and some I bought with birthday money, but for the most part, I’ve stuck to my shelves. Not everything I read from the shelf was fine literature, some of it was downright tawdry, but they were fun to read nonetheless. That’s something else I learned. Reading the classics is a lot like drinking a fine wine. There are layers and notes to the work, and the reading can have its own special procedure. All of that is to be expected and has its rightful place in my life but, I have to say, every now and then it sure does feel good to sit down and crack open a cold beer.

Color Story | January | Wool

Our rainy season isn’t until February, but the first half of January proved to be a wet and cold one.

The skies were dark. The house was gray. The day never really seemed to start. Snuggling in front of the televison seemed like the natural thing to do. My computer circled the drain and took with it a year’s worth of photos, including the first two weeks of images for this project. Silver lining? My unread library is thinner.

But, oh, how those wet and cold days come with a price. Mikey and I spent most of January tossing viruses back and forth.

Midway through, a break. A day at the park. Warm sweaters. Strong winds. A very large duck. A very, very nervous mama.

We didn’t sell our car, and are considering attaching a bullhorn to the roof and proclaiming the benefits of a used Ford in good condition while we cruise all the right neighborhoods. It might work.

I baked a cake, and then another.

I went to a party with a nicely wrapped present.

We celebrated 11 years.

In January we did everything, and we did nothing. It was dreary and cold and gray, until the sun came out and bleached everything white. It’s a maddening month, the kind with a slow march that thwarts the desire for something new and fresh and right now, please. It’s January, and it’s over.

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This was a color story. Please leave a link to yours in the comments, if you are so inclined. Otherwise, will you join me in February? The theme is scarlet. A month of red, pink, and everything in between around your home, your town, or your inspiration folder. Stuff you make, stuff you buy, stuff you photograph. No pressure. (Do it.)

Doña Petrona Orange Cake

I am both stubborn and stupid. Only I would refuse to give up on an orange cake, a cake that, when placed in a bakery, would receive the same treatment as a knock-kneed asthmatic during team selection in P.E. I don’t need to ask you when the last time you looked at the clock at 3:30pm and sighed, wishing for a large slice of orange cake. I know the answer: never. No one ever pushed back from an Excel pivot table and said, “Damn, what I would do for a slice of orange cake!”

But I persevered. I had three trees worth of oranges to use up, and I wasn’t about to see them rot (like I did last year). I researched  conversions and in my first attempt did some complicated density-ingredient-analysis. We all know how that turned out. This past week I decided to simplify everything and use metric. Out came the scales and bowls. Two hours later, I had an orange cake sitting on the counter.

That makes me stubborn. What makes me stupid is that I don’t like cake. So after all this baking and sampling and researching and scrapping and baking I can with confidence declare that my orange cake tastes…like cake. And orange. Yay?

Yay. Not because I suddenly grew to love cake, but because the boys loved it and I loved the sight of a homemade cake next to their school pictures and a vase of (what else?!) Rosemary. Years ago, when we were doing our kitchen remodel, I told The Mister I wanted our kitchen–our entire home, really–to look and feel like warm cookies and milk. Two happy boys and a slice of orange cake isn’t a bad compromise to make.

Doña Petrona Orange Cake

adapted from El Libro de Doña Petrona, edición 81

I’m amazed at the color of this cake. I don’t know if it’s because I used fresh orange juice and zest, but it really does have a lovely citrus glow to it. The original recipe called for a simple glaze icing, which is nice, but my boys love chocolate. I couldn’t resist such a classic winter combination.

The metric measurements are as presented in the book, with the exception of salt and vanilla, both of which are my additions. The U.S. measurements are from various online calculators. I’m confident with all of them except the flour. If you batter looks loose, try adding more flour by the tablespoon. The original recipe called for the eggs separated and the whites beaten to soft peaks. I’ve come to find out this is a technique James Beard used to lighten pound cakes. I’m lazy, and didn’t want to clean any more bowls. I mixed in the eggs one at a time after creaming the sugar. I may try it again separating the eggs. Then again, I may never bake an orange cake ever again.

For the cake

200 gr. | 14 tablespoons butter, softened
200 gr. | 1 cup sugar
420 gr. | 3 cups sifted cake flour
4 eggs
1 cup orange juice
the zest of one orange
3 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon salt

For the hard chocolate glaze

5 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 cup sugar
1/3 cup milk
1 cup bittersweet or semisweet chocolate chips (depending on how sweet you like things)

Cake:

• Heat oven to 350º
• Butter and flour (or Pam up) one bundt cake.
• Mix flour, baking powder, and salt in a medium sized bowl.
• Add vanilla to orange juice in small measuring cup.
• Cream butter and sugar in the bowl of a standing mixer or large bowl.
• Add one egg at a time, mixing completely before the addition of each egg
• Add flour mixture and orange juice mixture, alternating in thirds, ending with the flour mixture.
• Fold orange zest into batter.
• Plop batter into bundt pan and smooth the top, if necessary. Bake for 45-55 minutes. Start checking at 45 minutes. I let mine go without checking to 55 minutes, and you can see it’s over-baked on the bottom.

Glaze:

In a small saucepan, combine sugar, butter, and milk. Boil, stirring constantly, for 2 minutes. Remove from heat, and stir in chocolate chips until smooth. Immediately pour over partially cooled cake.

Unstyled Life

We celebrated our 11th wedding anniversary on the 15th. How is it possible that so much time has gone by? How is it possible that I am almost 40? I swear, I feel so much younger than I am, and that’s not to say I think 40 is old. I don’t, but I remember when I did. I don’t feel much older than I did then.

The other day, Joanna posted about a pretty aquamarine ring that could be used as an engagement ring. Then she asked everyone to comment on their relationship status for fun. Two things occurred to me. One, my parents had a box of loose aquamarines in the 80s in various shapes and sizes. If I can get my mits on that box, I can have a ring made as a present to myself for doing something great, with “something great” to be defined at a later time. Like Justice Stewart once famously said, I’ll know it when I see it.

The second thought to occur to me happened after I read the first 300 or so comments. Almost everyone who answered was dating, engaged, or married less than 4 years. At 11 years, I felt seasoned and tough, like a cube steak. I also felt old, like maybe the internet is for people 32 and under. Not really. There are plenty of people online my age. Right? Successful people? People besides Dooce and Pioneer Woman? Because sometimes I feel like the older sister of blogland. Of course, maybe I should try reading blogs in my demographic. Heh.

Look at me with my stream of conscious blogging. Must be all the Virginia Woolf. While I am at it, I’ll ask a few more questions. Because I’m nosy and it’s Friday.

Favorite blog niche right now? These things change for me, and I’m sure it’s the same for you, too. Right now, I’m really into design blogs. This happens to me at the beginning of every year. I get obsessed with my house and making it better. True to form, I am eating up design posts like they’re chocolate and peanut butter. I want to find a new narrative blog to love, but so far I’m coming up dry. Any suggestions?

Color Stories. There have been a few people who have started their own, or said they would love to do their own. It sounds like fun, so I’m thinking about doing a link party at the end of the month where we can all link up to our color stories. It wouldn’t have to be your photography, in case you are nervous about that sort of thing. I’ve seen people create a color story from etsy items, rooms from their inspiration folders, favorite foods, whatever. Would you like to do something like this? If enough people are interested, I’ll figure out how to do that linky thing where all the pretty pictures pop up.

Whew. I think I’ve rambled on long enough, don’t you? Have a great weekend, everyone.

[End stream of consciousness.]

Unstyled Life

If I wasn’t the type of person who enjoys a challenge, I would be worried I bit off more than I can chew with Doña Petrona. Converting the recipes from metric to US standard is more difficult than I imagined. I tried a pizza dough recipe earlier in the week using metric measure and, for some reason, the dough didn’t rise. It’s possible this is because of the weather. I have soapstone counters that hold onto cold, of which we’ve had plenty. The flour was cold, the equipment was cold, and the room was cold. The yeast may have had trouble blooming. Who knows.

I decided to start out in metric or find a way to convert to US standard using a system that accounted for the differences in density across the ingredients. For example, because mini marshmallows, flour, and sugar each have their own density, 100 grams of one isn’t 100 grams of the other (mini marshmallows, 10 cups; flour, 4 cups; sugar, 2.5 cups). I found a site called gourmetsleuth that seemed to take this into account. I decided to try it out with an orange cake recipe from Doña Petrona’s cookbook because, hello, it’s January in California and I have three trees heavy with fruit.

It didn’t work out. According to gourmetsleuth, I needed 3 cups of flour. But was that three cups scooped from the bag, or 3 cups spooned into a measuring cup? That’s what I don’t like about volume measure. I went with scoop, and my dough was far too thick and stiff. Three teaspoons of baking powder converted to 2.6 teaspoons of baking powder and, as you can see from the picture, I think I needed at least the full three teaspoons.

I’m not blaming gourmetslueth entirely. It’s an odd cake recipe, a combination of basic cake and chiffon. The four eggs in the recipe are separated, like a chiffon, but instead of oil you use butter, like a basic cake recipe. The whole point of separating eggs and using oil is to give a (chiffon) cake as much height as possible, where butter adds weight and richness. So separating eggs (height) but adding butter (weight) seems counter-intuitive. Why not just add the eggs whole, one at a time? I stuck to the recipe, just in case I was missing something.

Nope, not missing something. The cake ended up dense and flat, like a pound cake. Rather unattractive, in fact. I admit, I was bummed. I wanted to impress you with something lovely and delicious, and I didn’t think this was it. I whipped up a quick orange glaze, poured it on top, and called it a miss. I’ll keep trying because I’ve got plenty of oranges!

The good thing about living among men is that even a bad cake is good cake. They ate it up and often asked for seconds during the week, and I can’t blame them. The flavor of the cake is outstanding. You can taste the orange, but it isn’t cloying like some fruit-based cakes. It’s worth trying again, if only to see how it tastes when done correctly.

So are there any bakers out there? What do you think happened? If you have any tips on how to convert from metric, or why 3 teaspoons of baking powder converted to 2.61 teaspoons, I’d love to hear your thoughts.