myrnamay

Flowers Of Late: Wrapped

"She likes dark things, but she's not goth...something pretty but edgy"

Tulips, coral fern, magnolia branches

"Something VERY cheerful"

Viburnum, ranunculus, and...I forget the name of the darling little lanterns!

I don't think they asked for anything in particular, so I just freestyled

Double tulips, hydrangia, buddleia, some type of grass/grain

"Something feminine and natural"

Sensational tulips, scabiosa pods, nigella pods

I was meeting my friend for burritos after work, so I made her this little bouquet out of pieces left at the end of the day

Dahlias, clover, carnations, ornamental chilis, French fashion magazine

Flowers Of Late: Branchy

"Something tall, maybe viney or branchy, white, textural, modern, artistic"

Pussy willow, willow, hippeastrum, mossy branches

(For the first time I tried designing the arrangement on the floor, since everything was so freaking tall!)

 

"Tall, for an entryway"

Magnolia branches, crespidia, hippeastrum, French Tulips

 

 

 

"Something dramatic, for an artist"

Magnolia leaves, hippeastrum

 

 

"Natural, unusual, for a January Birthday"

Magnolia branches, magnolia leaves

 

Nothing Says Christmas Like Chinese Restaurant Gelt

Today, the lovely Leah & Imin hosted the 1st annual Jews For Dim Sum on the steps of the Asian Art Museum of San Francisco. I made cookies. 

Almond cookies are often given at the end of the meal at Chinese restaurants, though their fame is overshadowed by that of fortune cookies. Face it, almond cookies- we could all use a little advice. Gelt is (are?) gold foil-wrapped chocolate coins given to Jewish children during Hanukkah.

 

Take the Terry's Favorite Almond Cookie recipe from Veganomicon (secret ingredients to their deliciousness: peanut oil, brown rice syrup, toasted sesame oil), roll dough and cut out using a gelt-shaped cookie cutter (a circle), and sprinkle generously with gold "Disco Hologram" edible glitter (leave some cookies plain because that glitter may be "edible", but who knows what's in it). 

 

Eat all the dough scraps. You won't regret it. Don't take it personally if only a tiny fraction of your cookies get eaten. And as the sweet old man at the Indian grocery store said to me, "Enjoy the Christmas!"

 

Margarita Cupcakes Baked Into Margarita Glasses: This Is No Time For Restraint

 

My friend Mike and I go out for burritos & margaritas ('ritos & 'ritas) about once a month, so when his birthday arrived, I wanted to make a cake that related, somehow. (Actually, I think I promised him a cake-filled burrito baked into a cake...) A burrito cake seemed out of my skill/patience level, so margarita cake it was! Is such a thing possible? Of course, and of course the PPK girls have mastered it in Vegan Cupcakes Take Over The World. But, even though I love Mike, and cake, and margaritas, I was only feeling ho-hum about this endeavor: I guess I'll bake some cake.. But a birthday and a recipe this good deserve something special, over-the-top, and a little bit trashy! And so..

 

I baked the cake into margarita glasses. Safety Alert: I had no idea if this would work, and no idea if it would work for anyone else. I picked out sturdy looking glasses at the thrift store, so maybe they were sturdy or maybe I just got lucky. This might be really dangerous! But it worked perfectly. I stuck a cookie sheet in the oven, filled each glass and set it carefully on the sheet, and baked them for a bit longer than the recipe said (because they were each about the size of 2 or 3 cupcakes).

These are truly margarita cupcakes- there's tequila in the cake and the frosting (the cake is obviously cooked but the frosting is not), and the zest & juice of a million limes. I just bought 2 tiny bottles of tequila from the corner store, using the darker tequila in the cake and the lighter in the frosting. Why? Whim. When I use my darling but far-from-industrial-strength mixer, buttercream never comes together perfectly. It was a bit more wet than fluffy, but it tasted sooooo good. I spread a thin layer on the top of each cake, mixed together lime zest, sugar, and kosher salt, and made a "salted rim" on the outer edge of the frosting.

 
Since I was taking these to a surprise party, I wrapped each in cellophane and tied on uber-cheap green ribbon from the dollar store.

 

 
And then put each one in a sparkly hologram clashing green gift bag from the dollar store, threw in some crinkle-cut paper "easter grass", and tied on a compostable fork (just in case). Still, something's missing...

 

 

Of course, glitter tattoos and skull stickers for all, from the quarter-machines at the corner of Valencia & 16th. Possibly the most wholesome tequila-&-tattoos birthday celebration ever.

You Can Take The Girl Out Of The Mission...

 
...But you're going to want to get her back there as soon as possible.

If you can swing it, I highly recommend living at one end of the Mission while one of your favorite people in the world lives at the other end. Over the years, Crystal & I had coffee, whiskey, and burritos at every possible spot between our two apartments (well, all the spots we liked), hit every garage sale and dollar store, analyzed the openings & closings of businesses, and had a damn good time. When she decided to move away last autumn, I was bravely excited for her, but so! sad! for myself. Her birthday was a'comin', so I wanted to make her a little piece of the Mission to take on her journey. We'd heard a rumor that there were no burritos in Seattle, so I was concerned.

But what?

 
A lowrider, of course. Before I started terrorizing the Mission with Crystal, I was completely oblivious to the existence of lowriders (and cars in general, really). But she loves them and would point out her favorites. One sunny day we were sitting in a dark bar, and she pointed out the door: "Look.." There, waiting at the light, was a burgundy lowrider with an orange...roof, would you call it? and a cool orange painted squiggle. It was niiiiiiiiiice. Once I'd decided to embroider a lowrider for her, I knew that color combination was the one. But, I couldn't remember quite what a lowrider, you know, looked like, so I did an image search. Nothing useful, nothing inspiring. Pouting. Then, I searched for "sweet lowrider" and learned, once again, to ask for what I really want. The image I based my drawing/stitching on was titled, "Sweet lowriders need gas too". Indeed. I printed the image in black & white, loosely traced it onto the linen to get the proportions right, and sewed it up! That orange squiggle was the hardest part. Embroidering a cool-as-hell squiggle is not ideal, perhaps, and it didn't turn out cool-as-hell as I would have liked. The next one- to celebrate Crystal's recent homecoming, perhaps?- will be sweeter.

 

 

 

 

 

Did you know the French word for acorn is "gland"? We totally won this one, French!

 

As you might be able to tell from the light in these photos, I made some little autumn thank-you cards very, very early this morning. Well, not very very early, but early for a project to have been completed by me. I passed out with a fever last night at 8pm, which meant I was awake this morning...before 5! Took a few naps, daydreamed, watched the sky brighten, made tea, made cards.

Note to my boss, an adorably loyal reader: I did not stay home sick to make acorn cards. There are just only so many naps one girl can take.

 

I carved the acorn stamp, and made a few cards with the "thank you" written with various pens, but decided a darling acorn wouldn't talk in my gangly handwriting. Right? Totally. But then!- not only was I able to find my old letter-stamp kit from Sue, I found all the necessary letters, which are teeeeeeeny, and scattered throughout my craft supplies.

 

And here are my acorn-people sketches. And a mermaid. And the words "damnit" and "come on", I believe provoked by the fact that I couldn't seem to draw a stick. But those are good eyelashes, right?

Overall, a good morning for a feverish girl, made even better by this tribute to acorns. I take back my previous statements: I'd love to have White Stripes matryoshkas.

Homeward Bound

I made this stamp for my parents months ago, very early on in my stamp infatuation. I gift-wrapped it, packed it carefully, and mailed it off, only to have it returned weeks later through some mysterious postal service portal. I've just held onto it ever since, feeling superstitiously that it shouldn't be mailed. All very dramatic, I know. But soon I'll be able to give it to them in person, hoping that my humble rendition of their lovely home can somehow thank them for saving me again, and again, and again.

Maybe they'll even like their stamp so much they'll take me to The Chicago Diner, Bleeding Heart Bakery, and Wishbone while I'm in town. Ooh, and Handlebar- Bell's beer, vegan samosas, and cuties on bikes... Chicago, you know I love you.

Let it be sweet. And fluffy.

Last night I attended my very first Rosh Hashanah celebration, and gladly rang in the new year. It seems like everyone I know is more than ready to bid a bittersweet farewell to 2010 and get a fresh start, already. I must admit to knowing very little about Rosh Hashanah, but I did know that apples (symbolizing life) and honey (symbolizing sweetness) are traditional. Because the hostess told me so.

I wasn't sure what to contribute to the party- Arugula Salad with Chocolate & Pistachios was a major contender, but in the end Japantown solved all my problems, as it usually does. I stopped in Nijiya Market and paced the aisles until I found something suitable. This is perhaps my favorite type of mission: Okay! Rosh Hashanah! Japanese grocery store! Apples & honey! No eggs, no dairy, no gelatin! Go!

The marshmallows you see above are amazing. Fluffy as clouds, with an apple gelee in the center. One hesitant taster said, "It's so weird- you expect artificial apple flavor, but it's real apples!". I like the idea that a natural flavor can be so shocking. They also come in Grape (ew!), Custard, & Chocolate. The last two have dairy but no gelatin, but check! The ingredient list changes from time to time, I've noticed.

And just when I was about to go for the intimidating Apple Gel Drink (how would you share that at a party? do shots?), I found these! Apple Honey hard candies...with a sour center. A very unexpected sour powder center. I choked. I'm hooked.

 

You know, I'm finding that when things are Not Going So Well, there are two very different ways to approach a party. I'm a fan of both.

The first is to simply pretend that Everything Is Fine. Put on a dress, drink a drink, play some rowdy Scattegories, laugh & yell & be silly. It will be good for you, I swear. Your friends like to see you happy, your body will enjoy all the nice party endorphins, you'll sleep like a baby.

The second is to admit to yourself and to the party in general that Everything Is Not Fine. Put on a dress, cling to your hostess, stay busy fixing drinks, be shy, and sneak out well before 10pm. This method requires a sympathetic hostess, one who understands that when you raise your eyebrow & walk out, it means, "Thank you for a lovely evening. The food was fantastic, your friends are fascinating, and I can't believe I got to participate in such a warm, loving ringing in of the new year. But I have to leave before I cry on the beautiful challah." Again, this is a perfectly legit way to attend a party. Your friends understand- they've been there, for sho. They don't mind in the least, they're just happy to see you.

Any other hot party tips? As long as there's a dress involved, I'm game. Maybe dancing on the table and hitting your head like in 10 Things I Hate About You, or dancing & fainting like in Wild Child? 

Let's just get all the cakes out of the way right now.

Another little embroidered cake from the archives, made a few years ago for a friend who makes cakes based on her paintings, & vice versa. The original cake can be seen here- don't you just love that magical little city (mountain range?) on top? I picked this cake partly for the amazing combination of white-red-yellow-pink-brown, and partly/mostly because I will sew anything if I get to do French knots. What's cuter than a perky little dinner-roll-like bundle of thread?

I got hooked on French knots after seeing the nutty amounts of them being cranked out over at Posie gets Cozy, like on this pillowcase, or this pillow. I still aspire to do some project requiring thousands of French knots, but haven't come up with anything yet. Any ideas? Please help! French knots are my anti-drug!

There's a nice tutorial from the Purl Bee, if you'd like to be as nerdy as I am...

Hold the phone. I was already to hit "Publish", when I remembered What I Hate About French Knots! They're like... remember how Christmas lights used to be wired in series, so if one burnt out all the rest went out, too, and the magic was over? Well, that's how French knots work. There you are, just knottin' along, gettin' cozy with some Austen- Keira! Gwyneth! Aishwarya! Alicia!- and you couldn't be happier. But then, one of your knots is wonky, or too loose, or the thread gets stuck, and you can't just cut it off because they're freakin' sewn in series! What are you supposed to do? Start from scratch?

Hmmm... As always, there's a good chance I'm doing this all wrong. Though I directed you to a tutorial, I didn't actually read it. Everything I know about sewing I learned from a little free-with-embroidery-floss pamphlet from 1939. I love it, and I'm stickin' with it.

Cakes of Grey

You know you have the perfect job (pastry assistant) when you read pastry books on your lunch break (current reads: the not-as-naughty-as-you-think-it-will-be-if you're-not-paying-attention-to-spelling Dessert Fourplay, and the deliciously wholesome Good to the Grain) and draw pastries when you get home.

I love the honeymoon phase of a new job! Comin' in early, stayin' late, being a super-nerd.... And the nice part is that the love affair with a good job doesn't crash & burn after the honeymoon- it matures, and deepens. And maybe, eventually, you even get good at the job and don't spill so much or make the wrong cake recipe!

 

One day we were talking about a dessert based on Luc Tuyman's St. Valentine, and the challenges involved in avoiding ending up with a grey cake. But I think I'm pro-grey cake! I'm not sure, since I've never had the chance to eat one, but a delicate cloudy gray cake might be lovely.

Or super-gross. Probably gross. I'm new at this.

So I started drawing grey cakes, realizing once again that I don't have a lot of bright ideas about how cakes should be decorated. Dots & flowers & swags: that's pretty much all I've got.