Well, I finally got the photos loaded and on the computer.  Recipes are provided with notes, and since some were first time recipes, they'll count toward my 50 for the year. :)

I've put everything behind a cut, since there are large images and a lot of text.
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This time of year, scattered across the midwest, there will be hundreds of county fairs popping up on what is desolate land every other week of the year.  There will be midways littered with toothless, tattooed carnies.  There will be amusement rides of questionable stability.  There will be rabbits in hutches, cows in stalls, and horses in barns.  There will be children running amuck with cotton candy and elephant ears. There will be middle-aged women in denim jumpers and plaited hair. And in one of those county fairs, there will be me.

The county fair is to rural northwestern Wisconsin what Fashion Week is to Manhattanites.  Parents herd their broods to cheer grandpa on in the tractor pull.  Locals laugh behind the backs of the women who wear white to the demolition derby. 4-Hers, who make up nearly half of any given class at school, spend the entire week either volunteering at the 4-H food stand or competing in showmanship of livestock. It is about the only tradition with which I was raised.  It is all about connecting.

As a child, the county fair wowed me.  I'd stroll down the midway, hypnotized by the crazy neon lights.  They were just colored lights, but they drew me in.  They'd convince me that I truly wanted to win some tacky paper-framed Aerosmith mirror.  That I just had to have the feathers attached to the roach clip.  That if I picked that one special duck, I wouldn't be stuck with another Chinese finger trap. That somehow, this was what life was about.  It was, for me, one of the major events in my childhood. 

Starting at age seven, I spent every week leading up to the fair with my maternal grandmother.  It was the kind of camp you'll never see in today's times.  No video games, no internet, no extreme sports or cable television.  It was just a week with my grandmother and the McNeill-Lehrer News Hour.  On the way home from picking me up (we lived an entire 15 miles from one another) for the week, we'd stop by the county agricultural fair office to pick up our premium book.  The newsprint pages categorically listed, as they do today, every class and division for entering items to be judged.  When we arrived at her home, my grandmother and I would sit at her Duncan-Phyfe table, she with her Sanka, and I with my Tang.  She'd pull out a red pen and a stenographer's tablet and page by page, we'd start deciding what our projects for the week would be.

The next day, with a list in hand, we would drive to the Red Owl grocery store to buy any ingredients we were missing.  She almost always bought me a few treats, that my parents could never afford at home, like Capri Sun and Fruit Roll-Ups.  Then, we'd drive up the block to the Ben Franklin ("the dime store," she had called it), and pick out our "yard goods" for anything we were sewing.  The first few days were spent making clothes.  I would attempt to sew something basic, like a skirt, and she would help me correct my mistakes.  We'd take our time and make sure that our entries were hung with care on the hangers and properly stored in garment bags.  I'd fill out the entry tag and carefully seal our names under the flap for anonymity.

Two days before open class judging, we'd begin our baking spree.  We usually started with the fruit and vegetable breads, since they stayed fresh a little more easily.  Then we made cookies and hot crossed buns and garlic knots and bars.  The morning of judging, we'd rise at 3:00 AM to get started on the last of the yeast breads.   We'd make two loaves of each bread and decide which of the two was the best representative of our work.  We did not have food processors or bread machines, so we would knead everything by hand on a canvas-topped piece of oak.  She taught me an easy way of kneading breads in bulk, and my hands to this day, automatically move in that same pattern the minute they touch a malleable dough.  She taught me how to roll a ball of dough gently on the curve of skin between my thumb and forefinger, creating a seamless sphere of yeasty perfection.  She would cast watchful glances and remind me not to use too much flour, or the bread would get too dry and crumbly.

Then we'd shower, and off we would go, smelling like pink Dove soap and Flex conditioner, to the Burnett County Fair.  With the backseat of her beige Ford Taurus piled high with entries, we'd take our time around the curves of Highway 48, so as not to disturb any of the delicate baked goods.  Conversation would be kept to a minimum, only verbally checking off everything on our list.

Once judging commenced, we'd walk around the fairgrounds together and look at the animals.  We'd eat at the 4-H Food Stand, and then share a baker's dozen of mini donuts before heading back to see the results of our hard work. 

Down in the basement of my house, now more than ten years since my last week of camp at Grandma's, there is a box of red, white, blue and purple ribbons.  Each one of them a physical reminder of those beautiful summers with a woman who represents all I hope to grow to be.  There must be nearly two hundred ribbons.  On the back, marked in pen, is a detailed caption of what entry earned the ribbon.  The blue for first place, the red for second, and the white for third.  The purple ribbons were reserved for the overall champion of each category.  Topped with a large rosette, this is the most coveted ribbon of any county fair.  It's the one the crowd looks at first when passing through the exhibits. It's the one that boasts who outperformed everyone else in the county. My grandmother and I brought home about 50 of those purple ribbons for our work over the years.  Each time filled with the same excitement one would feel if Publisher's Clearing House knocked at the door with a giant cardboard check. 

One week from today, I'll rise at 3:00 AM, put in six hours of hard work and then sit in the Home Arts Building at the LaPorte County Fair.  I'll be surrounded by homemakers and random onlookers and I'll be watching with a sharp eye for any inkling of opinion from the judge.  I'll have put in long hours and made countless loaves.  They won't be back my grandmother, but it will sure feel good to try.

So I've written a lot about my garden, but now I have photos!

Adam and I spent a couple of hours getting the last of the plastic in place.  Our weeds, like last year, were out of control.  Essentially, the grass seed hasn't died. It's weird to me that the grass that had been growing in the garden was almost like Bermuda grass. It is thick, coarse, hearty, and far more dense than what our actual lawn is.  But, it was also impossible to keep up with.  Many garden books and a few gardening friends suggested that we kill off the weeds and grass seed by laying down an inch or two of newspaper, and then covering it with black plastic.  The lack of sunlight, moisture and the high heat created by the sun and the plastic is supposed to kill everything off.

We did the large bed earlier this summer, and from what I have seen of the results under the plastic, it works.  We did the other two beds yesterday. It was a challenge, having so many tall plants now, but I think we managed all right.  Overall, our garden is much improved over last year.  Leaps and bounds.  It's under control, which I like.

Also, our brussel sprouts are finally rebounding from the cabbage worms.  My insect soap worked wonders after I doused them with it. No eggs or worms remained and the new leaves seem to be fine.  The eaten ones are clinging on, so we'll see.

So, here are pictures!!!

I made pita brad the other day.  This recipe is from King Arthur's Flour, my usual haunt for no-fail breads.  I have to say that after making about 6 or 7 of their bread recipes, I have yet to meet one that I don't like.  I just love their product and I love their recipes. Before the fair baking, I plan on ordering a few of their specialty pans and some of their specialty ingredients, like their Easy Roll Dough Improver and Granular Lecithin. 

Whenever I need something to make me feel better, I make bread.  I just love, love, love making bread.  And, of course, as I type this, I have my starter for what will become tomorrow's ciabatta bread doing its thing and a loaf of sandwich bread rising. :)

This pita bread was insanely easy to make.  I wish it made more than 8 pitas, but that's really all you'll get from this recipe.  Of course, they make halves, and good sized halves at that, but we go through it so fast that it would be easier to make a double batch next time, I think.

Okay, I know that New Rules really belong to BIll Maher (on whom I have a serious brain crush), but I am going to install some of my own.

New Rule: If you regularly buy and consume bottled water, you do not have the right to bitch about gas prices.

This country spends millions of dollars each year to ensure that the water we get is potable.  Yes, it may taste shitty in some places, but that's no excuse. Buy a $30 filter system and deal with it.  Many countries don't even have access to water clean enough to drink or bath in, so just be glad that even if your water tastes shitty, you still have access to water all of the time.

And that little plastic bottle it comes in?  Well, that's made of plastic, which requires petroleum, which has an effect on our gas prices.  Bottled water waste creates more than 1.5 billion tons of plastic, and sadly, Food and Water Watch reports that nearly 80% of all of those bottles end up in the trash, not the recycling bin.  That's about 30 BILLION plastic water bottles, according to the Sierra Club's brochure on water facts.

So that impact is just part of the cost. What about the consumer up front cost?  Well, let's see.

In my area, gasoline is currently $4.05 per gallon.  Divide that by 128 ounces in one gallon, and I pay about .3 cents per ounce of gasoline. Bottled water goes for about $1.25 per 20-ounce bottle.  That means I am paying .06 cents per ounce, which is double what I am paying for gasoline.  Therefore, the cost of bottled water is almost double the cost of gasoline.

So people who drink bottled water cannot bitch about the price of gas.  Because bottled water is not only more expensive to the consumer pocket, it's bad for the environment and usually just comes from a giant tap someplace else.

This is one of the easiest recipes ever.  And it's seriously good. I like it plain when it's still warm, but in this photo, the end result was used as a vehicle for gobbling up our leftover pulled pork shoulder (Adam made Mexican one night).  It's super good and now I alternate my white sandwich bread with this from week to week. I like that there is only one rising period, and that I cook it in a pan on the stove.

These remind me of Scotcharoos, but with a bonus layer. They're very tasty, and have become Adam's new favorite.  They will undoubtedly be my "no bake" entry in the county fair this year.

Okay, okay, I admit that my resolution to make 50 recipes has started to become very bread heavy, but I assure you, there are not many more varieties I have yet to attempt.

This is a great sandwich bread and I have another loaf rising as I type.  I didn't get any pictures this time because Adam ate the damn loaf too fast. Once again, the baking geniuses at King Arthur have not failed me.

3 cups (12 3/4 ounces) King Arthur Unbleached All-Purpose Flour*
1 cup (8 ounces) milk
2 tablespoons (1/4 stick, 1 ounce) butter or margarine
2 tablespoons (7/8 ounce) sugar
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons yeast

*For added whole-grain goodness, substitute great-tasting King Arthur whole wheat flour (traditional or white whole wheat) for up to half of the all-purpose flour in this recipe.

Mixing: In a large bowl, combine all of the ingredients and stir till the dough starts to leave the sides of the bowl. Transfer the dough to a lightly greased surface, oil your hands, and knead it for 6 to 8 minutes, or until it begins to become smooth and supple. (You may also knead this dough in an electric mixer or food processor, or in a bread machine set to the dough or manual cycle). Add a bit of additional milk or flour if needed— the dough should be soft, but not sticky.

Transfer the dough to a lightly greased bowl, cover, and allow it to rise till puffy though not necessarily doubled in bulk, about 1 hour, depending on the warmth of your kitchen.

Shaping: Transfer the dough to a lightly oiled work surface, and shape it into an 8-inch log. Place the log in the lightly greased 8 1/2 x 4 1/2-inch loaf pan, cover loosely with lightly greased plastic wrap, and allow the bread to rise for about 60 minutes, until it’s domed about 1 inch above the edge of the pan. A finger pressed into the dough should leave a mark that rebounds slowly.

Baking: Bake the bread in a preheated 350°F oven for 30 to 35 minutes, until it’s light golden brown.Test it for doneness by removing it from the pan and thumping it on the bottom (it should sound hollow), or by measuring its interior temperature with an instant-read thermometer (it should register 190°F at the center of the loaf). Remove the bread from the oven, and cool it on rack before slicing. Store the bread in a plastic bag at room temperature.
Yield: 1 loaf.

I have been searching for a deep dish pizza crust that is worth the effort.  Deep dish pizza is different because SO much of the flavor and the experience relies on a good crust.  I've tried many that have come out really dry, or flat, and some that just won't crisp up on the outside while remaining chewy and soft on the inside.  Well, my search is over!

I recently checked out "Baking Illustrated", a baking book by the editors at "Cook's Illustrated" magazine.  It's a wonderful book, and I've managed to find about 100 recipes that I can't wait to try. What I love about the book, is that they explain every way they try each recipe, so you can red for yourself how various modifications failed.  It saves you the time of having to work it out. 

This recipe caught my eye because it explained why they use a POTATO in the crust of this (and their focaccia). Essentially, the potato contain more starch than wheat, and since starch traps moisture during baking, the dough remains more moist throughout. They also have less protein than flour, which results in less gluten being produced, so the end result is more soft and tender. 

This recipe looks like a lot of work when you read it.  But really, it's not that bad. Just a few waiting periods while the dough rises.  And if you plan ahead, it's VERY simple. 

This is Adam's paternal grandmother's recipe.  It was exceptional.  I used my Challah bread as the bread for the bottom layer, but had to use loaf bread for the top.  It was very tasty.  I also subbed cooked bacon for the ham, and I used Cheddar instead of the Old English cheese. I also added a touch of seasoned salt and some herbs, for some flavor.

I am counting this as a new recipe because I have not made it in more than 10 years. Let me tell you peeps, this was one heavenly good!

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I made these two recipes for the Superbowl. It was great for a group, but if it were just the two of us, I'd have to half it for sure, and I'd still have plenty leftover to freeze!

So Adam and I have been talking about joining a gym.  We don't have a lot of extra cash for this, but our health plan reimburses a *very* small amount, and in his effort to start not smoking (squee), we thought our gym time together would be good motivating time.  So today, I was surprised and excited to see a flier come in the mail for the new Gold's Gym that opened up about 15 miles away from home. It normally wouldn't be a gym we consider, but it's brand spanking new and offers Adam the kind of machines he wants, and it offers me the "women's only" area, as well as a beautiful pool.  The offer I received was for $9.95 per person per month, if you pay for the full year.  So for about $260, we'd have a membership for the both of us. 

I called:

Me: Hi, I got a promotion in the mail today about your $10 a month membership, and I would like more information.

Jamie: Great, I can help you with that, what's your name?

Me: Annalise.

Jamie: Well, Annalise, I am taking appts for tours of our facility can you come in tonight or tomorrow?

Me: I can come tomorrow at 11:00 EST, your time. (Note, I am on central time, but almost every other part of Indiana is on EST)

Jamie: Great, that is perfect for me.  Now, I'll be the short, but "better than average looking" guy at the front.

Me: Um. Okay.

Jamie: See you tomorrow.


Now, this REALLY put me off.  As in "I already hate you".  My biggest issue with all of the gyms I have been to is that they seem to have far too many egos in one place, and I am very self-conscious about the environment in which I work out.  I feel intimidated, and while I know that I am not important enough to anyone else in the gym that they would care, I do.  It's not an uncommon issue with gyms, in general. I am not even remotely gifted in the athletic department. I can keep up in yoga and water aerobics, but if I were to do a spinning class with Kaden, I'd sure be knocked out within three minutes, even if I went at my own pace. :)

And so with that, Jamie's attitude was a deal breaker.

Five minutes later:

Me: Hi Jamie, this is Annalise, I just booked an appt with you for tomorrow. I need to cancel.

Jamie:  Okay, when can we reschedule you for?

Me: Actually, we can't.  Your whole "better than average looking" comment really turned me off. I generally do not like gyms because they often have employees with massive egos and you've shown me that your gym is really no different.

Jamie: Oh man, dude *yes, he said DUDE*, I am sorry. I... I ... Well, I didn't mean it, and wel...

Me: You know... thanks but no thanks. I'll just go to the Y.


I felt so good after that.  And I will be going to the Y tomorrow.  Fuck that shit.

Instructions:
1 - Go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random
The first random Wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.

2 - Go to Random quotations: http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3
The last four words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.

3 - Go to flickr's "explore the last seven days" http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days/
Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

Put it all together, that's your first album.

Band Name: Sabra
Album Title: No Relation to Reality

Cover:

Okay, so no matter what I do, I can't get the photo for the cover to show up. That's okay, it was lame anyway.

I have decided that Tastefully Simple's Mild Red Pepper Dip over cream cheese is amazingly good. It's my new favorite combo.  For now.

VOTING at everydayminerals.com closes at 3:35 ToDAY!

That's less than ONE HOUR!!!!

It's a race to the finish! EEEK!

Our Offbeat Bride profile is up.

:-)