Nurse Cats

I fully expected Luna to be my nurse cat after surgery. We have a very tight bond and she's usually the one who snuggles up to me when I'm sick or upset. Much to my surprise, Rugrat was the nurse cat for the first few days. Anytime I was parked on the couch she was on my lap and carefully avoided the knee. At first I thought it was just business as usual, since she is a total lap cat, but she was there non-stop. Also, the fact that she did not try to get in my face and steal my food when I was eating was definitely not normal.
I am feeling better today so she let up on her vigil and went outside. Luna came over and took up the watch, sitting on the top of the scratching post next to the couch. Rugrat came back and they got in a rather heated fight over who got to sit on top of the scratching post and stare at me.
All this attention from the cats has been nice, but it is a bit of a relief that they've gotten a bit bored and are leaving me alone more often.

BUI

BUI: Blogging under the Influence, or, random stories about my knee surgery

My surgery was two days ago. I'm on lots of Vicodin at the moment. By popular request, I'm blogging under the influence (thanks, Sheila!). At the moment, I'm not supposed to drive, do my taxes, or make important decisions, but I can still blog. So here it is, in no particular order.

Me and my drugs: The surgery itself went fine. I wasn't nauseated afterwards and didn't feel a lot of pain. It reminded me of my experience when i got my wisdom teeth out, so I didn't take enough painkillers after the surgery. (I was supposed to take Vicodin every 3-4 hours) At first, it was no big deal. I took a nap and then hung out with my mom, who was pretty amused by my loopy drugged state. Around 6, T suggested that maybe I ought to take the Vicodin since the other painkillers would be wearing off. I did, but didn't take my next dose until I went to bed 5 hours later. Bad idea. I woke up three hours later with a very sore knee and I had to pee. I nearly fainted on my way back from the bathroom. I got T to go get me some vicodin. Since then, I've had to be pretty careful to take it according to schedule. Last night I took one before bed and was able to sleep the whole night so that was good. I'll see if I can phase back on the medication today.

Me and my helpers: My mom took me over to the hospital, brought me home and stayed with me after the surgery and yesterday afternoon. She's not so good at traditional mom-style babying, but she's really good at distracting me, bringing me flowers and chocolate, raiding my fridge, and fussing over the cats, so she's been a big help. She had the advantage of getting me when I was loopy and cheerful.
T came over to stay with me the night after the surgery. He had the misfortune of getting me when the painkillers wore off in the middle of the night and I was most decidedly not cheerful. He was very solicitous and helpful and managed to get me to eat even though I didn't want to. He got major boyfriend bonus points for that and for reminding me to take my vicodin the night before.
I've got a feline helper too. Rugrat has been on my lap pretty much constantly since I've gotten back. She's figured out not to sit on the knee, She's like my little teddy bear. Sometimes it's nice, and sometimes it's annoying.

"It's not Playboy time!": The anesthesia made me pretty loopy. The nurses seemed to enjoy having a cheerful drugged patient to deal with. When it was time for me to get dressed, the nurse, who was probably in her 50's, told me that she would take out my IV line and then I could get dressed. I got confused and thought she told me to get dressed and then she'd take out the IV. She hadn't closed the curtain but there was no one around so I just started getting dressed. I whipped off my gown and was trying to put my bra on when she came back. "It's not Playboy time!", she said, and closed the curtains. It was pretty funny. She also made jokes about my pasties when she pulled off the little stickers that they used for the monitors.

Anyway, I'm feeling a lot better this morning. I took a sponge bath and washed my hair. I'm going to watch some of the NCAA basketball tournament and try to motivate to do some reading for work. I'm probably still too drugged to work on that paper I'm supposed to write.

New Toy: Cuisinart Stand Mixer

I've wanted a stand mixer for years. I put in a request with my mom, who trolls the garage sales every Saturday. No luck. People get rid of every other kind of kitchen item but apparently know better than to sell their stand mixers at garage sales. I made do with a small hand held electric mixer and lots of muscle. Last summer I trashed my electric mixer by using it for mixing grout and mortar, and I didn't replace it. I was holding out for my stand mixer.
After figuring out what kind I wanted (Cuisinart, 7 qt), finding a good excuse to buy it (my promotion) and waiting for a 20% off coupon, I was good to go. They didn't have it in stock, so I ordered it. The mixer showed up the other day. Then I put it though its paces.
Test #1: Whole Wheat Bread
As my first test, I wanted to test the dough hook and I wanted a fairly dense dough to really test the mixer, and I was craving some whole wheat bread. I dumped the ingredients in the bowl and turned it on. After a minute or so everything was blended. I then set the timer for 10 minutes and stood there watching it for 5 minutes, until Missy IM'ed me. The motor handled the dough no problem. The dough climbed up the hook a little bit but it stayed under control. When it was done, it beeped and turned itself off. The dough was firm and elastic. Unlike when I knead it by hand, it hadn't absorbed way too much flour. I let it rise. It rose so quickly that I just punched it down and let it rise an extra time. I then shaped it into two loaves, let it rise and baked it. The loaves turned out well. They browned nicely and had a nice texture and a good crumb (as the bread snobs would say) - tender, not too dense and not too fluffy. If I'd kneaded it myself I'm sure it would've been tougher and denser. I couldn't wait for it to cool all the way so I ate two pieces while it was warm. It was very tasty. At the farmer's market the next day, I saw similar looking loaves selling for $3.35. Score! My mom didn't realize that I had made the bread since it had such a uniform texture and shape.
Test #2: Biscotti
I made a batch of my world-famous biscotti to test the stand mixer's ability to do large batches of thick cookie dough. No wimpy doughs for me! The recipe calls for 6 cups of flour, 5 eggs, and a lot of almonds. Although it's a big recipe, it's not too hard to do by hand. I started by plopping two sticks of butter into the bowl and turning it on. one stick got stuck in the paddle and didn't really mix. Next time I'll cut it up into smaller pieces. I then added sugar. The mixture creamed well, but when I added the eggs I had to lift the top and scrape down the sides. According to the recipe book that came with the mixer, this is normal. I then added the flour/baking powder/salt alternating with the brandy. The dough mixed up well and the mixer didn't seem to have any difficulty. I then added the almonds. At the point the mixer started wiggling and making more noise but within a minute the nuts were fully mixed.
I tested a slight variation of the usual recipe. Since I'm going to be off my feet for the next two weeks, I used 25% less sugar and compensated by grinding the anise to bring out its flavor. I could taste the difference in the dough. The biscotti didn't spread as much as normal. So I can't really tell if the stand mixer changed the texture or it was just the lack of sugar that caused it. Fortunately, in cooking it's ok to change more than one variable.
In general, the mixer did a good job of handling the types of recipes that I make frequently. I'm looking forward to trying other recipes, particularly the type of recipes that I've been avoiding since I didn't have a stand mixer before.

Knee countdown: 5 days

This post is not actually about my knee. Or maybe it is, in an oblique way. All this thinking about my knee has made me think about the rest of my body, and I hereby declare it to be 'love your body day,' Well, actually, I just made that up, but it's my blog and I can make the rules as I go along. Think about your body. If you're like me, you focus on the things that you don't like. I'm sure you've heard me complain about mine (helllooo muffintop!), and I'm sure you have you own list of things that don't work well or you would like to change. All those things that are largely trouble free or that you like, you probably don't think about them very much. But stop and take a minute or two to think about what works really well, or what looks really good, or what never ever gives you trouble and you don't think about it, or what didn't used to work well and now it does. Put them into a Facebook-style list. The results might surprise you. You could even try to start a Facebook trend, if you were so inclined.
I'm not putting my list here. I'm not putting it on Facebook either. There may be some things that you envy. Your list will undoubtedly contain things that I envy. Unfortunately, we can't trade, but if anyone wants to take a few inches of my muffintop I'd gladly take a few extra inches of hips and thighs.

knee countdown: 11 days

I've got 11 days until my surgery. Suddenly it has become something I have to think about more. I got a call about donating blood, and had to tell them that I couldn't. I had to move a meeting up by a few days so that I could be there. At the advice of Kathy, who's had more sports injuries than I can count, I'm stockpiling bags of ice. I'm in the medicine/supplement-free stage, in which many things that I take are now off-limits, including advil/aleve, birth control pills, ginger, licorice, and ginseng. If it might make my blood thinner, it's out. If it might make my blood clot, it's out. If it raises my blood pressure, it's out. Ditto for anything that might lower my blood pressure. I don't think this would be the time to be a smart-ass chemist and ask if certain things cancel each other out. Basically, my medicine chest and tea cupboard are now off-limits. Casual Facebook friends have wondered if I'm pregnant, based on my oblique references to my new dietary restrictions. Unfortunately, my abs and back are out of shape so I even look more pregnant than usual. Sigh. Fortunately, chocolate and alcohol are still permitted. I'm going to need them.
It's easy to be cranky, and I've certainly been on edge more nowadays. But in reality it's just a small thing. A coworker had to go in for emergency back surgery last week. He's doing well, but has a long recovery ahead of him. It was a good reminder for me to keep things in perspective.

Cherry Trees

I grew up (and currently live) in Sunnyvale, CA, which is in the heart of Silicon Valley, home of many cycles of economic bubbles, which was formerly known as the Valley of Hearts' Delight, home of some of the most excellent cherries, apricots and plums in the world. Many of the orchards had disappeared by the time I was a kid, but there were still a lot of Bing cherry trees around. For those of you who haven't tried them, Bing cherries are incredible - big, sweet, tart, flavorful and firm-textured, and Sunnyvale Bings are the best. When I used to walk to elementary school, I passed a number of houses with big cherry trees in the front yards. With the perspective of childhood, I remember them as being gigantic trees, almost like giant redwoods, but now that I'm older I suspect they were merely medium sized. Every June, they would be covered with cherries. Like my memory of the size of the trees, this memory may be somewhat exaggerated . I used to sneak a cherry or two from each tree that I passed. I remember the soft calm June morning air and the excitement that came from only having a few days of school left, but mostly I remember the cherry trees.
I was not the only one who noticed the cherry trees. My mom, who's a bigger cherry maniac than me, dreamed of having some massive cherry trees of her own. I've lost track of how many she's planted over the years. They never yielded many cherries. Either they didn't bloom at the same time and couldn't cross pollinate, or they bloomed at the same time as the orange tree and none of the bees even went to the cherry trees since the orange tree was so sweet smelling. The birds would then get a lot of the cherries that were produced. Occasionally a tree would die and she'd replace it.
I drive on the same street when I go visit my mom. Most of the cherry trees are gone. Nonetheless, I still have my dreams of cherry trees. A few weeks ago I went to the garden store to buy some fertilizer. I came home with a cherry tree. It had a Bing and a Ranier grafted onto it. That combination should do the trick for cross pollination. Nonetheless, the next day I went out and bought another cherry tree. I planted them in my front yard alongside my driveway. Somewhat painfully, I dug out massive holes for them and rearranged rose bushes. I also planted a grapefruit tree, and though I'm pretty sure it will be more productive than the cherry trees, it just doesn't quite have the same magic. I fantasize that they will be as big and productive as the cherry trees of my childhood memories, and I might even begrudgingly let the neighborhood kids steal some on their way to school.

Recipe Geek: Caramelized Onions

Recipe Geek: Caramelized Onions
As you might have already figured out, I like to read recipes and articles about food. Some of the best descriptions have the ability to make me want to try things that I normally don't even like. Today's recipe for caramelized onions is an excellent example of this.
I don't like onions very much, and they don't like me. If they're well cooked and present in small amounts, I appreciate their flavor-giving properties. If they're raw or undercooked, or if there's just too much of them, they give me major stomach heartburn and see to take forever to digest. I do like caramelized onions, but have never made them before. This recipe called for very slow cooking (4 -5 hours). During this time, a lot of the sugars and starches get caramelized in a process known as the Maillard reaction, and the stinky, heartburn provoking sulfur compounds get cooked off or converted into less offensive molecules. The end result is like onion marmalade.
It was a cold and rainy Sunday afternoon, and I was home cleaning the house, doing laundry and pretending to work on the journal article I'm writing. My plan was to make the onions and then serve them to my parents, who were coming over for dinner. The rest of the dinner included a pork roast, polenta and asparagus.
I cut up 3 lbs of onions and dumped them into a medium sized dutch oven, along with 2 tsp salt and 1/3 cup olive oil. Much to my surprise, I didn't get teary eyed, even though I was wearing my contact lenses. I think these onions were rather old and dry (see picture #1). I then covered the pot and started to cook them over medium heat. After 1/2 hour, they had shrunk to about half their original size and there was a lot of liquid in the pot. At 45 minutes (picture 2), I took the cover off to evaporate a lot of the water. So far, the onions were right on schedule. I set the heat to the lowest setting.
After two hours, the onions had reduced to maybe 1/3 their original volume (picture 3). There was still a lot of liquid left, so I increased the heat a little bit and stirred them more often. They started bubbling faster. I tasted them - they were still pretty bland.
Even at the higher heat, the onions were still pretty mushy at 2 3/4 hours. They just kept sweating. At this point they were the color and consistency of apple pie filling. I started stirring them more frequently. By the time dinner rolled around, they were done. They developed a lot of color and flavor in the last hour. The original onion slices had disintegrated down to tiny little strips, and become very sweet. There was none of that icky burnt onion flavor that caramelized onions sometimes get. The original 3 lbs of onions shrank down to about 1 1/2 cups (see picture 4). The olive oil pooled a little bit around the onions. I might use less next time.
My parents liked the onions, especially my mom. We ate about half of them with the roast. When I gave the cats some little scraps, my mom insisted that I put some of the oil from the onions onto the cats' portion. Rugrat liked it too. I'm looking forward to having the leftovers (hello pizza toppings!), although I may freeze some for later. I'm also pleased to report that I didn't get heartburn.
I'll probably make them again. I may try a different recipe that doesn't take as long, unless it's a cold Sunday afternoon and I have time to kill.