Independence Day Star Cookies

Independence Day is one of those second tier holidays.  A nudge above Martin Luther King Day.  A few steps ahead of Arbor Day.  It's historical significance is obvious, but when it comes to themed baking, Independence Day is a much tougher sell.

You're limited to three colors: red, white and blue.  If you're going natural, then you really only have two colors, since no foods (except for this crab and the Dory fish) are naturally blue.  In terms of acceptable shapes, there's the star... and that's basically it.

So with this in mind, I present my artificially colored, Independence Day Star Cookies.

You can tell by the (lack of) effort I placed on presentation, how special I think these are (ready to be served right off the sheet).

Cookie Stats:

Cookie: Rolled Sugar Cookie (1/4 inch thick), cut in star shapes

Decoration:  Marshmallow Fondant, swirled in red, white and blue; adhered by corn syrup

The fondant method of cookie decorating is an easy way to create neat (by neat I mean not messy; I don't mean neat as in swell), colorful, "iced" creations.  I roll the fondant to 1/8" thick, then cut out shapes with the same cutter used for the cookies.  The fondant is adhered to the cookies with a little bit of corn syrup.

I first learned about the fondant decoration method from The Flour Pot Cookie Book.  It's a great first reference for fondant cookie decorating.  However, in terms of actual techniques, it offers little more than the basics (which I just described above).  I would only recommend it for purchase if you feel you need creative help to come up with your own cookie designs.  In that case, The Flour Pot Cookie Book provides several specific decorating ideas (i.e. suns, flowers, shoes, fish, etc) to get you started.

At any rate, these star cookies are easy, quick, look great and fit the holiday theme.  Happy Baking and Happy Independence Day.

Daily Monku:  Why must families on vacation in New York walk down the street in a single wide line?  Do they not realize that by taking up the full width of the sidewalk, they're acting like human road blocks for people (namely me) walking in the opposite direction?  I've got places to go people (as in home, to feed my finicky cat).

A Million Marvelous Designs

A few weeks ago, while sitting at my desk supposedly diligently working, I had a sudden memory of a childhood toy: Kenner's Spirograph.  I was feeling so nostalgic that I decided to buy one of these classic kits off Ebay.  I now have my own 1986 Kenner Spirograph, the exact same version I had when I was little.

courtesy Amazon.com

I love the concept of the Spirograph.  A gear turning in a toothed ring is the basis for the creation of many awesome patterns.  The only downside to the Spirograph is the amount of control required to create a flawless design.  Countless times as a child, my designs were ruined because I moved the gear too quickly, causing it to skip a tooth or worse come untracked.  

So naturally, I was extremely excited to get drawing with my new kit and my relatively new adult dexterity.  I set up my ring, placed my gear and started drawing.

Okay, so I fucked up the first time...

And the second time...

But then I started to get the hang of it...

And it's still just as fun as I remember it.

Kenner's Spirograph represents my true definition of art.  It's not so much about representation.  It's purely about creating a visual aesthetic.  I value something as art because it appeals to me aesthetically.  The colors and lines align in some way that I find appealing.  That's it.  That's enough for me.  I don't need to sit in front of a painting and try to "find" the hidden meaning, the intention, the theme.  I guess that's why art history never made sense to me in school, despite the fact that I consider myself someone who appreciates art.  I'm an anti-art snob, or rather just a different kind of art snob.

Daily Monku:  No Mr. Man-Walking-In-Front-Of-Me-Talking-On-His-Cellphone "heighth" is not a word.  I know it may be hard to believe.  Other measurements end in "th" like "depth", "length", "width", but "heighth" is not one of them.  It really is just "height."  Sorry, I do not acknowledge the excuse that in earlier centuries (as late as the 19th century) "heighth" was an accepted form of the word.  That's like saying it's okay to call your gynecologist a "nimgimmer" since that was an accepted term for a doctor who treated VD in the 19th century.

Monku Monku

Screenwriter Jane Espenson has a really awesome (though no longer updated) blog about writing for television.  As a complete television geek, I find it really interesting to read from an "insider's" perspective what goes into crafting a television series.  How to develop characters.  How to plan plot.  How to generate humor.  And of course I believe and agree with most of her opinions on television writing, since she wrote for Buffy the Vampire Slayer (possibly the best television series ever in my opinion [no I will not give in to the trend and write "imo" and yes I did just add a parenthetical to a parenthetical]).

However, the most interesting thing about Jane's blog is the unique way she ends all of her posts by describing what she ate for lunch that day.  I enjoy the idea of a post "tag" (a tag is the final scene at the end of a tv episode that wraps everything up) so much that I've decided to create my own.

I don't want to rip off Jane's lunch tag.  That would be extremely un-creative of me.  Also, I tend to have soup or salad from my work cafeteria most days, which would make for a very boring lunch tag

No, I've settled on my own tag.  It's called the Daily Monku, ("monku" is Japanese for "complaint,"  as in "monku monku bakkari").  Sometimes legitimate complaints.  Sometimes ridiculous ones.  So I'm adding the Daily Monku at the end of each post, beginning today.

Daily Monku:  About a year ago, the MTA decided to get rid of the W train.  In it's place, they extended the Q into Astoria.  This means, when traveling uptown, the N, Q and R must all merge onto one track between 34th St. and 42nd St.  Inevitably, a bottleneck develops at 34th St. during rush hour.  Nothing is more annoying than riding an N or R as it pulls into the 34th St. station only to have to wait "for train traffic ahead".  Except then it becomes even more annoying as you realize you aren't just waiting for train traffic ahead.  You're also waiting for train traffic "behind."  Cause as you sit there on the local track, a Q will pull in on the opposite side and then leave for 42nd St ahead of you.  And you're still sitting there at 34th St...

Next to Next to Normal

I spent this past Saturday day-tripping in Philadelphia.  My reason for going there: to see Alice Ripley in the Next to Normal national tour at the Academy of Music.  I had previously seen the show on Broadway six times, four with Alice Ripley in the lead role of Diana Goodman.  If you've seen or heard any of Alice's work (especially in Next to Normal for which she won a Tony for Best Actress), you'll understand why a two hour trip to Philly is perfectly reasonable.  She has a brilliantly powerful voice with a completely unique timbre that perfectly suits her character.

courtesy of Amazon.com

Next to Normal, as Ben Brantley from The New York Times described it in his review is "something much more than a feel-good musical: it is a feel-everything musical."  The score by Tom Kitt is absolutely amazing in its ability to cross genres from rock to pop to folk.  The story itself is something truly unique to Broadway.  It's about a mother coping with mental illness and its effects on her family.  From that description, sounds like a real crowd pleaser, doesn't it?  

In all truth, I think Next to Normal one of the best new musicals I've ever seen (and completely deserving of its Pulitzer win).  So of course I was extremely excited to see it one last time in Philly.  Quite honestly, I was expecting Alice Ripley to carry the show on her shoulders while surrounded by a so-so supporting cast.  To my surprise, the supporting cast was much better than expected.  Good voices.  Good acting all around.  However, Alice's performance in Philadelphia did not live up to her past greatness.  There was more scream singing.  There were larger, wilder gesticulations.  In two plus years of performing the same role, Alice Ripley seems to have lost some of the subtlety that made her so amazing on Broadway. 

 I would like to give Alice the benefit of the doubt.  Perhaps she was having an "off" day.  Other audience members postulated that she was sick.  I'm not convinced of that.  My best explanation is that a show so intense and personal as Next to Normal just doesn't translate to larger venues like the Academy of Music.

There's a scene towards the end of the show where Diana explains to her daughter Natalie that she only wanted a normal life for her.  Natalie's response:  "I don't need a life that's normal / That's way too far away/ But something next to normal / Would be okay."

This is how I would describe the performance in Philly.  Passably close to, but not equaling, the quality and the feeling of the original Broadway production.  It's something next to Next to Normal.  For the majority of the audience, this was close enough.  They thoroughly enjoyed the show.  I guess because I'm such an NtN fan, I feel entitled to be a picky asshole.  For me, something next to Next to Normal truly was just "okay."  Don't get me wrong, I still love this show, and I'm glad I got to see it one last time, but I think I'll stick to the OBCR to relive the power and feeling of the original Broadway production.  

Hello World

Hello World!

I now have a blog.  More to come...