Pretzel Me!

I made soft pretzels tonight.  It was a very laborious project, but the hot twists of heaven that came out of the oven made it all worthwhile.  Thank you, Alton Brown.  For my records and in hopes of bringing you an enormous amount of joy, please see the recipe below:

Cook Time: 25 minutes 

Level: intermediate

Yield: 8 pretzels (or 20 mini pretzels in my case!)

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 cups warm (110 to 115 degrees F) water
• 1 tablespoon sugar
• 2 teaspoons kosher salt
• 1 package active dry yeast
• 22 ounces all-purpose flour, approximately 4 1/2 cups
• 2 ounces unsalted butter, melted
• Vegetable oil, for pan
• 10 cups water
• 2/3 cup baking soda
• 1 large egg yolk beaten with 1 tablespoon water
• Pretzel salt

Directions

Combine the water, sugar and kosher salt in the bowl of a stand mixer and sprinkle the yeast on top. Allow to sit for 5 minutes or until the mixture begins to foam. Add the flour and butter and, using the dough hook attachment, mix on low speed until well combined. Change to medium speed and knead until the dough is smooth and pulls away from the side of the bowl, approximately 4 to 5 minutes. Remove the dough from the bowl, clean the bowl and then oil it well with vegetable oil. Return the dough to the bowl, cover with plastic wrap and sit in a warm place for approximately 50 to 55 minutes or until the dough has doubled in size.

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees F. Line 2 half-sheet pans with parchment paper and lightly brush with the vegetable oil. Set aside.

Bring the 10 cups of water and the baking soda to a rolling boil in an 8-quart saucepan or roasting pan.

In the meantime, turn the dough out onto a slightly oiled work surface and divide into 8 equal pieces. Roll out each piece of dough into a 24-inch rope. Make a U-shape with the rope, holding the ends of the rope, cross them over each other and press onto the bottom of the U in order to form the shape of a pretzel. Place onto the parchment-lined half sheet pan.

Place the pretzels into the boiling water, 1 by 1, for 30 seconds. Remove them from the water using a large flat spatula. Return to the half sheet pan, brush the top of each pretzel with the beaten egg yolk and water mixture and sprinkle with the pretzel salt. Bake until dark golden brown in color, approximately 12 to 14 minutes. Transfer to a cooling rack for at least 5 minutes before serving.

Today's Great Eight

1. I drove to work, which means I got hit snooze four more times than usual.
   
2. Whilst in the car, I listened to "The Scarlet Pimpernel" and there is nary a thing as entertaining to me as imitating Christine Andreas'  warble.
   
3. I bought Floam as a birthday gift for a friend.  FLOAM.  
   
4. I went to coffee with my co-worker Jennie and SHE! IS! AWESOME!
   
5. Three words: free strawberry shortcake.
   
6. Instead of going to my regular grocery store, I splurged and went to Whole Foods.  Sun dried tomato pesto and corn chowder with roasted poblano peppers?  Check yes!
   
7. "The Office" is on and it's the episode where Andy Bernard punches through the wall.  How is Season 3 so good?!
   
8. My glorious roommate showed me the paint chips she picked out for our accent wall.  It took about two seconds to chose a color that we both love.  
   

So yeah--despite mild exhaustion it's been an especially wonderful day.  I'm going to crawl into bed with my special edition of InStyle and smile.  A lot.  HAPPY TUESDAY!

Subprime Taxi Crisis

I love Taxis.  I mean...LUUHHHVVVV them. Being chauffeured around is SO RICH, and I'm thrilled by how much faster I get to my destination.  Even better, when I stay at work past 7:30pm (aka almost every night), I can expense the ride home.  Once I've slammed the door shut I immediately become Gordon Gekko, peeling myself away from my desk after another ruthless day at the office.  Yes, I'm exhausted, but I'm also wearing striped suspenders and spent the last 12+ hours making zillions of dollars and committing fraud. All in a day's work.

Tonight, however, was less Wall Street than I had hoped. The ride wasn't awful, as my night did not end in a collision or screaming match.  Yet in a perfect world, things would have gone differently.  For example, when I tried to flag down a cab, I would have hooked one on the first try.  Instead, I frantically ran into the street and waved at a cab that was with-passenger.  I mean, TURN OFF YOUR LIGHT if you already have someone in the backseat so that I don't look like a dejected fool as I slink back to the sidewalk.   I also was not picked up by the second cab I saw which, despite my best efforts, sped past me.  RUDE.  I decided not to let a third cab escape me, but was thwarted when the FAT ASS Georgetown shuttle decided to switch lanes, blocking me from view.  Fourth cab was the charm, but it totally killed my investment banker mojo.  Also, when I got in the cab it smelled funny.  

Just as I started to get comfortable, my cab driver did the unthinkable: he stopped to pick up someone else.  WHY GOD, WHY?!  All I wanted was a quick and efficient means home, and somehow, the extra passenger totally ruined that for me. Nevermind that my driver always stayed on the most direct path to my house and dropped me off first.  I still spent most of the ride sulking/trying to calculate how the meter should be split so that I didn't cover the first part of the additional passenger's ride.  Honestly, I would have said something, but after swinging the door open and experiencing fresh air, I didn't feel like poking my head back in the car.

This last part is the real kicker, the real "you are SO NOT an AIG executive, Betsy."   When I asked for $12 back, my driver obliged by thumbing through his wad 'o cash and giving me twelve singles.  I mean...COME ON NOW.  FO REAL?  Perhaps Michael Milken or Bernie Madoff have occasion to frequent strip clubs, but I certainly don't. What am I supposed to do with twelve rumpled singles?  Sure, I can use them to purchase goods like any other bill of currency, but it's the principle of the thing, damn it.  ::shakes fist::

Regardless, I'm home in one piece and ready to handle the evening's to-dos an hour earlier than I would have if I had walked.  Wait...what's that glimmer?!  Oh wow...it looks like I found the silver lining! Seriously, I wish there was some way to commoditize looking on the bright side.  I wonder if any multinational corporations are looking for a CPO (Chief Positivity Officer)?  If so, can you tell them I'm willing and available for a bargain price?  Thanks.

Pity Party: Laundry Room Edition

For most anyone that has access to a washer/dryer, laundry shouldn't be that big of a deal.  I mean, it's pretty straight forward, no? When you have a reasonable amount of dirty clothes you separate your loads, add detergent and press start.  After some time (30 minutes on my machine), you transfer clothes to the dryer, add a bounce sheet and come back to warm, fresh clothes.  A little folding and presto-change-0, your whole wardrobe is once again ready to be worn.  I love clothes, options and clean things.  It should then follow that I like doing laundry, as it gets me all three of those outcomes.  NOT SO.  To me, laundry is an evil that I must endure to avoid the STANK associated with frequently worn apparel.  Seriously, I wait until I'm on my last pair of underwear.  Full disclosure: Sometimes I hand wash a pair several times to buy myself a few extra days.  Today was an all-time low because I went commando.  I used to love the ease and breeze of a panty-less existence, but as I've matured, I truly enjoy wearing undergarment on my lower half.  Especially briefs (it feels like a hug for my butt!).

Anyfoof, the reason I raise this issue is because tonight I could deny the fates no longer--I had to do my laundry.  Up until a few minutes ago I was happy to follow the usual routine of feeling despondent/cranky.  However, I started to analyze why laundry is such a torturous task for me and came to a frustrating conclusion: I am totally the issue here.  I have done everything I possibly can to make this chore miserable for myself.  See below:

1) I didn't put clothes in the washer until after 10:00pm.  The ramification of this initial timing is that I can't even get my clothes out of the drier until 11:40pm, and then I have to fold/hang my nice garments.  All in all I probably won't be done until 12:10, which is TOO LATE for Grandma.

2) I have yet to purchase a laundry basket, so getting the clothes back to my apartment is an annoyance.  I quickly cram the HOT-ASS laundry into my hamper, awkwardly race to my room and then dump everything out on my bed to prevent wrinkling.  Does this method work, you ask?  Um...not really.

3) I don't have quarters for a snack.  A touch of chocolate would be heaven, but alas, it's a no go when I walk past the vending machine.  

4) I'm wearing heinous wash day clothes, so when I see people in the laundry room they look marginally horrified by my ensemble.  Today is a classic: oversized gray sweats, oversized yellow sweatshirt, gaudy earrings, no bra.

5) I lost my own laundry card and had to dig through my roommates desk to borrow hers.  Please don't tell her that whilst in the process of acquiring said card, I almost broke her lamp, a vase, and her desk drawer.  Eeeep.

I could easily continue this list, but I feel like the major points have been addressed. Obviously, it is no wonder I hate laundry day.  I wish this revelation made way for an attitudinal shift, but I've still got a major case of the mopes.  And so I will continue to lay in bed, curse my choices and watch Nivea's "Landromat" video.  RAWR.

WELCOME WELCOME WELCOME!

Come one, come all to a place where you can unleash your inner golden retriever; a place that celebrates exaggerated hand gestures; a place where the next thing usually becomes the next best thing.  My heart is bursting with excitement because I'm so thrilled that you're here.  

Enthusiasm (n):

1. Absorbing or controlling possession of the mind by any interest or pursuit; lively interest: He shows marked enthusiasm for his studies.
2. An occupation, activity, or pursuit in which such interest is shown: Hunting is his latest enthusiasm.
3. Any various forms of extreme religious devotion, usually associated with intense emotionalism and a break with orthodoxy.
   

Enthusiastic (adj):

Full of or characterized by enthusiasm; ardent: He seems very enthusiastic about his role in the play.

Overenthusiastic (adj):

Unduly enthusiastic.

*Definitions courtesy of Dictionary.com.  HUGE thank you to whoever wrote them!