Latkes!

 Latkes!

It’s that time of year again, Chanuckah. Actually, by the time most people read this Chanuckah 2021 (5782 in the Jewish calendar) will be over. If you want to know when Chanuckah is next year view this video: A Chanukah Song then come back.

So … Latkes.

As I type this the latkes are frying. 

O.k., not really, that would be dangerous. (Unless I wasn’t the one making the latkes, then it would be fine.)

Actually, I’m early in the prep stage. The potatoes are peeled and cut and soaking in a bowl of water and the onion is ready to be cut as soon as I am ready to grate.

Yes, I said grate.

There are many schools of thought as to what makes the perfect latke. There are those who coarsely chop their potatoes and then grind them up in a food processor, there are those who steadfastly use a box grater and then those, like me, who split the difference, grating the potatoes and onions using a food processor with a grating blade.

I grew up with both types of potato prep, first learning on a box grater and being taught that the best latkes always had a bit of blood in them. I passed that lesson on to my kids with the caveat that blood was not actually a secret ingredient and mechanical grating was perfectly acceptable.

In later years I learned the latkes could also be made using a food processor. Then I made up my own mind.

Back when Mike and I were young and adventurous we did a lot of cooking together (yes, I did cook once upon a time and I liked it). We were fans of many of the t.v. chefs and had shelves full of cook books. 

One of our favorite cookbooks was written  by Paul Prudhomme of New Orlean’s fame. We pored over his books and even made a pilgrimage to his restaurant in the Big Easy while on our honeymoon.

Chef Prudhomme had a recipe for cajun potato pancakes. I really don’t remember how they tasted but I do remember the texture and prep and adopted that for my own latkes.

The Prudhomme recipe called for potatoes, onions, salt, pepper and cajun spices. The potatoes and onions were grated, strained in a colander and mixed with the other components. They were then dropped in small dollops into a pan of hot oil until crisp on both sides and then drained on paper towels.

That is how I make my latkes -- minus the cajun spices. 5 ingredients. Potatoes, onions (roughly 2:1), salt, maybe pepper if I feel like it, and oil for frying. Fry until crisp and eat. Maybe with a dollop of applesauce, maybe some sour cream. DO NOT FREEZE.

My latkes have to be eaten hot and crispy. Almost right out of the pan. This is my idea of heaven.

Now to start frying!

Happy Chanuckah!

Failure or Lesson?

 Failure or Lesson?

I frequently encounter the phrases “I could never do that,” “I would mess it up,” “what if I make a mistake,” “that looks hard,” and others of that ilk. I’m never quite sure what to say in response.

My journey through crafting has always been a matter of seeing something, saying (perhaps just to myself) “that looks interesting,” and then, maybe years later, trying it.

Over the years I have learned how to crochet, knit, cross stitch, make bobbin lace, tat, construct and paint a doll house, paint my apartment, garden on a balcony, program a school, drive, weave and replace various parts of my dishwasher (none electrical). I admit to leaving most plumbing and electrical tasks to  professionals.

I learned how to crochet from my mother (I think, I don’t actually remember being taught), to tat from my aunt, to drive from my father (and a driving school) and everything else is mostly self taught. 

I do not consider myself brilliant by any means. Rather, I see figuring out something new as just that. Figuring it out. Each new skill, whether professional or personal, is something that someone else has done and therefore doable by me. Notice that sports are not included. They are not a puzzle I wish to figure out.

Yes, there are some things I do not wish to become good at.

Each of the skills that I have acquired had a learning curve (literal curves in the case of driving). My proficiency in these skills has improved due to my willingness to fail or, in the case of driving, to not crash.

Case in point,  these leggings.

They look good on the surface but are, in my opinion, not what I was going for. The design and execution are pretty good but I made a bad choice in the fabric. It is far thinner than I like in my workout tights and I didn’t adjust for my height so they are shorter than I would like. I also don’t like the thread. Oh, and the fabric on the legs is wrong side out. Oops.

Are they a failure? No. Are they a lesson? Absolutely! This lesson sent me to my computer to  research knit fabric weights and terminology. 

Will I try again? Yup! I think I have found the same color in a heavier weight and will probably order it.

All of my skill acquisitions have a similar story. The sweaters knit early in my knitting career that were far too big for my kids. The cross stitch projects that look kind of wonky. The lace samples that certainly don’t look like the illustration in the book. Did I give up? Maybe. I can’t remember what I have tried and then dismissed as “not being for me.” Certainly I have pushed crafts aside only to come back to them later in life as they became more intriguing. My aunt will often suggest things that she has tried that I am not ready to play with yet. Sometimes I try them, sometimes I don’t.

In the realm of education we talk about wanting to nurture a love of learning, to create life long learners. That is how I view my not-so-perfect makes. They are part of my learning curve, a part of being someone who is willing to try and fail learn.

Silk Stockings

 Silk Stockings

Okay, maybe not silk. Perhaps nylon. And maybe not stockings. Pantyhose? That sounds right.

Nylon Pantyhose.  Yup. Silk Stockings is a much better title!

Two summers ago I did my “back to school” shopping and, as I always do, stocked up on pantyhose. Because yes, I still wear pantyhose. Sue me. 

(Please don’t! I’m a working educator and you won’t get much.)

For a few months I wore my pantyhose, ran my pantyhose and threw my pantyhose away.

And then I stopped.

Stopped wearing pantyhose. Stopped running my pantyhose. Stopped going to work.

Sort of.

I did indeed stop all of the above except the going to work part. I just stopped commuting. Or at least commuting far.

Basically my commute consisted of walking from the living room to the spare bedroom. The room previously known as my daughter’s bedroom and more recently known as my craft room.

Now it was my office by day and my craft room on the weekends.

But back to the stockings pantyhose.

I stopped wearing them. I also stopped wearing shoes. I kept wearing dresses, skirts, slacks and pretty tops because I felt the need to dress for work. It made me feel a bit more normal in a rather abnormal time.

Fast forward eighteen months and we are now in the early days of autumn. I am back to commuting (if a walk of 10 blocks counts as a commute) and my legs are getting a little chilly.

So I have broken out the panty hose. (And the shoes.)

Actually, one might say that I have run with the panty hose. Or, rather, they have run with me.

The first day I put them on I immediately discovered a run. So I did as ladies do, cursed a bit, threw them out and donned a fresh pair.

The fresher pair lasted the entire day and hit the trash when I got home because my panty hose, unlike me, like to run.

Today I broke out a brand new package! I think I have 4 or 5 of these bad girls (each containing 4 or 5 pairs of panty hose) in my dresser.

My goal -- to run through them all and never buy another pair (except for special occasions). This includes, by the way, a dozen pair of tights, of which I have not spoken.

Then I will have a free drawer in my dresser for all of the wonderful things I am knitting and sewing!

Starting

If the last post was about finishing then this post needs to be about starting. (The topic of continuing will be another post.)

While the first steps in production happened this weekend, the two project I just started have been months (years for one) in the planning process. When I embark on a project I might just get the idea, buy the supplies and then start immediately. Others start as a germ of an idea and then proceed slowly as I figure out the how, what and why of the project. (For the writing teachers out there, the who, where and so what are usually the initial driving factors.)

Some projects may go from start to finish in the course of a weekend (a hat, a pair of socks knit while traveling) others may take months or even years.

The sweater below started as a concept the day that my son accepted his offer to the University of Michigan. It took a year and a half to get it to a finished state. The knitting only took a month. The other 17 months were spent thinking about it. Swatching, ordering thinner yarn, swatching again, graphing the notes, figuring out what to do on the sleeves (there is a clef on the right sleeve and a stop mark on the left) until I finally had it figured out. Mostly. There was still a considerable amount of recalculating done on the fly as I knit.

Other projects start as fiber that "jumps" into my arms in a store or at a fiber festival or fabric that just calls out to be a dress or, an idea that I want to try because it seems intriguing.

Last weekend I started  two projects. One began as fiber just begging to be spun and the other started as an idea begging to be created.

First up, I started knitting a new wrap/scarf thing in a handspun merino silk blend from Lisa Souza. The fiber was purchased at the New York Sheep and Wool festival at least two years ago, probably 3 or 4, and spun within a year of purchase. It has been sitting on a shelf looking pretty for about 2 years. 

My second project is a pair of cargo pants. The idea of making cargo pants crept into my head shortly after I successfully made my second dress this spring. A member of my family is tall and thin and favors cargo pants and it is difficult to get them in a waist size that also fits his leg length.

There are not that many patterns out there that fit the bill so much time was spent searching on line until I found one that also came with a video tutorial. I found the pattern two months ago but it took me this long to find what I think is the right fabric. Saturday was spent piecing the pattern together and cutting it out. Sunday I cut the fabric and started sewing. Monday was spent sewing al day. I successfully completed the front with the zipper, two side pockets and one front pocket over the 3 day weekend.

Neither project was finished over the weekend. I expected to finish the pants some time over the week but didn't get much done. Between evening activities (hello Carnegie Hall!) and this weekend's trip to the New York Sheep and Wool festival (hello Rhinebeck!)  these may be three weekends in the making.

The scarf/wrap has been cast on but it will likely take a month or two to complete. But then the satisfaction is in the process -- starting and finishing are just two of the steps.

#sewing #productivefidgeting #knitting #cargopants

Finishing

I like to finish what I start. When I talk to other knitters I often hear that they have lots of unfinished projects. Unsewn sweaters, wraps with ends that need hiding, and tons of single socks. That's not really me. Yes, I have unfinished projects -- at least 2 cross stitches -- but as a general rule I tend to eventually finish what I start. Something about hiding ends and sewing the pieces of a project together is deeply satisfying. Even more so when I have made the fabric or yarn myself.

Right now, actively in progress (as opposed to those cross stitch projects), I have: a pair of socks (still working on the first sock), hand spun yarn that needs to be plied (at least 2 different types), a scarf being knit out of my hand spun and masks that are in their initial stages of the assembly line. 

Also in progress but nearing the finish line is my career as an education. 

Last week I wrote a blog post that I did not publish. I had to vent and I did so but, for now, am keeping it to myself. Maybe I'll put it up later as a part of a multi-part post on my time working for the New York City Department of Education. A time that is approaching its end.

Right now I am not sure when the end will arrive but it is pretty safe to say that I will be retiring in anywhere from 2 to 20 months. Monday may determine if I go on the earlier side. 

In the mean time, while I try to pretend that I am not stressing, I spent the day finishing some projects.

This dress was assembled several weeks ago but I had to wait until my daughter came for dinner to mark the hem. It is now hemmed and ready to wear to work next week. Pattern: Sydney from 5 out of 4 Patterns.

This top was purchased as a kit from Needle Sharp. I started it last weekend and finished it today. It is also slated to be worn to work next week. Pattern: Cielo from Closet Core Patterns

And then there are these ... some pretzel masks destined for Bar Method Noho and Darian. There are more in the pipe line because I may have gone a bit overboard when I purchased the fabric. 

Pattern: Fabric Masks from Twig and Tale with my own modifications.

I'm not sure what I will make tomorrow but you can be pretty sure that I will finish it.

#sewing #endings #maskup