My potatoes are more American than yours

Think I'm exaggerating? Take a look:



Now that we've cleared that up, may I formally present Potato and Radish Salad for Friends, aka Let's Pawn off Radishes on Unsuspecting Partygoers. If you happen to have radishes from your CSA, this is an excellent way to get rid of the little f*ckers use for them.

It's just your basic potato salad in a wine and herb vinaigrette. But the radishes make it a little peppier, and it's mighty pretty for a 4th of July potluck.

Ingredients

- 2 lbs. small new potatoes. A mix of red, white and blue ones are both delicious and patriotic.
- Salt
- 5 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
- 1 small onion, chopped
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1/3 c. white wine
- 1 tbsp. white wine vinegar
- 1 tbsp. dijon mustard
- 1 small bunch radishes, very thinly sliced
- 1/3 c. chopped fresh herbs (I used parsley and dill)

Scrub potatoes, then halve or quarter larger potatoes so that they are all basically the same size. In a medium pot, cover potatoes with 1/2 inch cold water. Add a good shot of salt. Bring to a boil, then simmer until potatoes are tender but still hold their shape. [The cooking time will vary a lot depending on the size of your potatoes and what variety they are. Mine took less than 10 minutes.]

When potatoes are cooked, drain and allow to cool slightly. While still warm, slice potatoes into 1/2 inch thick slices. [Or whatever shape strikes your fancy.]

Meanwhile, heat 2 tbsp. of the olive oil in a small skillet over medium heat. Add onions and saute until slightly softened, about 4 minutes. Add garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Remove from heat.

Pour wine and remaining 3 tbsp. olive oil over warm sliced potatoes. Drizzle vinegar over. Add cooked garlic and onions. Stir gently to combine. Allow potatoes to absorb liquids.

Stir in mustard, radishes and fresh herbs. Taste and add salt and pepper as needed.

Serve at room temperature.

Happy 4th of July, and happy eating!

Farm candy

Ah, summer... Beaches, barbecues, sunburns...endless mountains of CSA greens....all those goddamned beets...



Yep, it's that time again. I seem to have actually learned from my past experiences and admitted that even a half-share is entirely too much for one person.

So I'm splitting the share with my friend and fellow knitter, Sarah. Our haul today included: kale, red and green chard, beets with greens, arugala, red-leaf lettuce, curly cress and strawberries. Tiny, almost unbearably sweet strawberries.



Curly cress was another exciting addition. Not only have I never eaten it, I didn't even know it existed before today. Pretty, isn't it? It kind of looks like curly parsley, but it's actually a salad green with an intense peppery flavor, like super-charged cracked-out watercress.



This is what a CSA is all about. Gorgeous food, picked at the peak of ripeness and freshness. The eating, it will be good.

I think I've even narrowed down what I want to eat. My standby kale recipe is this one: White Cheddar Polenta with Sauteed Greens and Garlic Portobellos, and it's brilliant. Though I may branch out and try Risotto with Tuscan Kale and Toasted Pumpkin Seeds instead. And I'm certainly not ruling out Red Potatoes with Kale, Avocado and Feta either.

For the beets, I'm thinking Red Beet Risotto. Because even beets can be palatable with enough cheese on top.

Mmmmm....

What I did on my blogger vacation

Well, I knit some socks.

First up, Manly Socks, in a basic sturdy Regia 4-Ply. These socks are hugely more attractive on the foot than off, and a perfect match for the green-grey-blue-brown heathered yarn. A nice, easy knit, too, whose good looks I think are disproportionate to the level of effort. And they are terribly manly.



I'm not sure if these were a huge yarn hog, or if I really did knit much bigger man socks than I usually do, but this is how much yarn I had left. I actually had to cannibalize the leftover cast-on edge to finish the second toe.



Next up, the Artichoke Socks, winging their way to their intended recipient even as I write, thereby continuing my tradition of providing people with woolens just in time for summer.



Modifications: I accidentally knit a "row 10" in the repeat that didn't exist in the pattern. And I would do a standard heel instead of the funky squarish heel turn in the pattern, but no modifications other than that.

I really can't say enough good things about the Shibuiknits sock yarn. It does have an oddly crispy feel when you're knitting with it, but softens dreamily after blocking. The recipient will get to enjoy both textures, since I only blocked one of the socks before mailing them to her. I think it's my dedication and high standards through all stages of the knitting process, including finishing and presentation, that makes me stand out from all the other knitters. Snort.

Balancing out these surprisingly successful socks is a recently frogged variation on the Staccato Socks, from the excellent Knitting Socks with Handpainted Yarns.



I knit to the heel, well aware that it would never in a million years fit me. Finally, one of my knittahs with size 6 feet tried it on and couldn't even get the damn thing over her heel. So, it's been frogged and reincarnated as a simple stockinette sock. I'm still charmed by the colors and the stripes. A three-row stripe is just about perfect for stockinette - just when I get bored...WHEE! New color!

As you can see, I have been knitting a lot less. In the past few months, I started going to the gym, and I started taking karate. I've been reading a lot more, and cooking (and eating) a lot of really wonderful things.

Given the decreased knitting, I've been debating what direction I should take this blog in. I've decided the blog will probably expand beyond knitting to cover more of my interests. I hope you'll enjoy them as much as I do.

Playground rules

If you emailed me in the past six weeks and are not a current or former employer, I have probably ignored it. Likewise with voicemail, your blog, Facebook and just about every other means of communication. Not because I don't appreciate hearing from you or like you or think you're funny or anything, but because I'm kind of overwhelmed. And, possibly, kind of a dick.

So rather than going back and emailing everyone "I'm sorry I've been such a dick," I'm issuing a blanket apology and declaring a do over. A fresh start. A clean slate. A surgically reconstructed hymen.

Whatever analogy works for you, that's what I'm declaring for myself. Except maybe the hymen thing, because, ew.

Moving right along!

Knitting has been slow, steady, and exclusively in purple and green.





First, baby hats for my friend Kim's soon-to-be daughter. Kim warrants two baby hats not just because her mom served brilliant wee mini meatball sandwiches at the baby shower. Though those were *awesome*. She got two hats because for some reason the idea of knitting booties was incredibly unappealing. And the first hat was kinda huge. So, two hats. Kid's Fruit Hat and Ruffled Baby Cap, around six month and newborn size respectively.

As usual, I didn't finish the actual knitting before the deadline, so Kim officially got just the eggplant hat at the baby shower. I did not decrease my meatball intake proportionately.

In other knitting, the oddly phallic first socks are completed and both second socks are stalled at the heel flap.



Because I have fallen completely out of love with both of them. Possibly because I've realized that hats require nothing more complicated than stockinette in the round on a circular needle. None of this DPN-using, purl-stitching, heel flapping nonsense.

Just blissful, blessed knit stitch after knit stitch after knit stitch.

Someone else I know needs another hat? Right?

Not to crap on the parade, but...

[Normally I try to respond to the last comments before my next post, but this is an important occasion. And also, I've been "celebrating"...]

So I voted for Hillary Clinton in the primaries. Just getting that out of the way.

Not because I was such a rabid supporter (in fact, I always joke that Bill Clinton was our "Best Republican President Ever!"), but at primary time I honestly thought both Clinton and Obama were equally qualified to lead the nation. And, when it came down to actually deciding, when presented with two equally qualified candidates, I voted for the woman.

Because I have to say, voting for a woman gave me a teary-eyed moment of pride, like I keep seeing in the Obama coverage, right there in the Brookline Devotion School gymnasium. If, heaven forbid, I ever have children, I realized I could tell my daughters - without bullshitting them - that anyone could grow up to be President of the United States.

So I am not belittling the momentousness of electing an African-American president, I'm really not.

And I do love me some Obama. God, I'm so excited to have a charismatic speaker and writer and intellectual for president, after years of hostility to science and intellectual curiosity, not to mention the mangling of the English language...that was a damned pretty inauguration speech. I'm a sucker for well-turned phrases about hope and sacrifice and the common good, and extolling what right-minded people can accomplish if we just work together. Also, don't ever tell, but the song "Simple Gifts" is one of my favorite things in the entire world. Shut up.

That said, I'm not sure I get the Obama thing. Yes, for liberals, after eight brutal years of seeing everything we believed in at best ignored or quietly overturned, and, at worst, demonized, we have a president who is reasonably aligned with our ideals. A president who values communication and humility and accountability over bloviating, moral rectitude, and a towering sense of macho entitlement. A president whose policy propositions are not actually, well, destructive.

But, but, but...for so many people, Obama is so much more than an elitist liberal policy wonk's wet dream. There's something about him that is fundamentally different from other presidents (besides the, um, obvious difference). Something that inspires and engages previously apathetic and hopeless people. Something that makes people believe.

I keep hearing things like "I can believe in my country again" or "I have hope for the first time" or "I'm not ashamed to be an American anymore." And I am so incredibly happy that Obama is inspiring that kind of hope in people, because - compared to many other nations - we have a damned apathetic populace, in terms of political participation.

But I just don't get it. I never really lost hope in America in the first place. And I was never ashamed of my country. Misguided, stupid, and embarrassing though the last eight years may have been, I never lost a sense that America was fundamentally okay. Or would be, eventually. This country is far from perfect, and I really did feel like most of my fundamental values were under assault by a horribly misguided administration for the last eight years. But that administration wasn't America, to me. My country was deeply flawed, but I knew it would get better. And I would do my part to bitch and moan and fight and vote to make it better. Because part of loving your country is realizing that it can always do better, and it's your job as a citizen to hold it to that standard.

So, as much as I love finally hearing a president speaking inspiring words that are actually aligned with my political ideals, and as much as I recognize that this is, in fact, an amazing moment in American history and politics... what really matters is what he does with it, no?

This nation seems to be unprecedentedly optimistic, enthusiastic and excited about what our president and what we, as Americans, can do.

So what is it that you hope for in the next 4-8 years? What important things do you want to see us accomplish? Regardless of your politics, what would you do with this outpouring of "Yes we can?"

On letting go

I have trouble admitting something's not working. I will make an entire enormous hat, microscopic sock or wing-like sleeve without admitting anything is wrong.

Or a gigantic mitt intended for someone with tiny, tiny hands.



Mitt, loosely based on the Super Mittens from Weekend Knitting, but made fingerless, and with a cable slapped on the top of the hand. This mitt is actually the perfect size. For me and my extremely long-fingered man hands.

I'm not completely unaware that my knits are turning out wrong. There's usually that creeping sense of "Hey, this doesn't look quite right..." But I usually block that out with some mature variation on LALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU or "But I've already put so much effort into it..."

I realize that continuing to put time and effort into a project you know isn't working, just so you don't have to admit it's not working, is, uh, retarded. But there you go.

I would like to do less of that. Both in my knitting and the rest of my life. First up - I've lived in New England for over a decade. And I've never liked it here. There's nothing wrong with Boston, but it has never felt like home. And it never will. And lord do I hate winter, in a visceral, completely irrational way.

I have finally, finally decided to move back west. At the end of the month, I will be leaving my low-key publishing job for a short-term and far-from-low-key gig with a Big Corporation. Big Corporation will be paying me enough to completely finance a summertime move to San Francisco.

Where I will live happily ever after with BFF Quinn and Kelley and year-round farmer's markets and good Mexican food and ice-free sidewalks...

So in the spirit of letting go of things that just aren't right, I should probably reknit the damn mitt...



If the resized mitt (pictured right) is too small, I'd really appreciate it if the recipient never, ever mentioned it and instead just crammed her hands uncomfortably into it, like one of Cinderella's evil stepsisters trying to squeeze into the glass slipper. My desire to get things right only goes so far.

And since I'm told mitts traditionally come in pairs...



I like to think this set loudly and proudly announces to the entire (knitting) world that A KNITTER LOVES ME. It's like a secret handshake.

That leaves only one more Christmas knit to finish. I'm shooting for mid-February.

Because that's the kind of awesome friend I am.

I'm "famous"

Or just really anal about punctuation.