I have to confess, I haven't been feeling particularly inspired lately, but I know that one thing that tends to perk me up when I'm feeling doldrum-y and lackluster is to revisit topics and projects that I would usually get excited about, like...

...Naturalism
I love the natural history of the Victorian era, that attitude of exploration and sense of wonder at just what the hell is out there in the world. And I love the cabinet of curiosity-style quasi-organization — sea urchins spines next to volcano dust! — exhibited in this collection of microscope slides.

I love natural history in general, learning about something in the world I never knew existed, like this totally bananas Stone Forest in Madagascar. (sidenote: why am I not going on scientific expeditions to Madagascar? as always, I blame you.)
And I am completely head over heels for regions of the world no one knows much about, where new species are discovered all the time (I'm looking at you, Greater Mekong region of southeast Asia!), so reading about the lemurs and geckos and insects that have adapted to live in this landscape really gets my nerd on.

{smooch}

...Food
Plain frozen yogurt (a container of drained tart yogurt, 1/4 c. sugar, slug of vanilla, run through ice cream maker), shown here drizzled with pomegranate molasses

Smitten Kitchen's mushroom bourguinon over egg noodles, which was really delicious. This might be my new go-to dinner during cool weather for non-fancy company who don't eat a ton of meat but are okay with beef broth. Actually, that description could work for pretty much anyone I ever cook for, but I'm already planning to make this in early April for a good friend who will be coming back to New York after having been in Bangladesh for a couple of months (presumably) not eating delicious French-style mushroom stew. I think the only change I made to Deb's recipe was to use a mixture of portobello and crimini mushrooms and to add the pearl onions right at the beginning so they braised in the wine/broth mixture. Also, I didn't reserve the mushroom stems for another use; I chopped 'em up fine and tossed 'em in with the carrots. And I used about twice as much broth as the recipe called for because I like a lot of broth, so it doesn't sit on top of the noodles the way hers did. This is what passes for following recipes exactly where I come from.

These outstanding glazed maple cookies. I'm amazed that I didn't eat all of the dough before I got any of them baked, since I kept pinching off a bit every time I glanced at the bowl. I actually did follow this recipe exactly, other than flattening the cookie balls with my palm instead of a glass. Edited to add: The second time I made these, I made a couple of changes that worked really well. First, I baked them for 9 minutes instead of 12-14, at which point they still looked raw on top, but were golden on the bottom and perfect once they cooled. Also, when reducing the syrup for the glaze, I added a bit of heavy cream (maybe a few tablespoons?) and cooked it until it was the consistency of honey. It ended up being much more like caramel, texture-wise — smooth and glossy and, well, creamy — instead of the original, thinner glaze. It was less than ideal for transporting them, since so much of the glaze came off on the parchment paper between layers, but no one seemed to mind.

Fresh sauerkraut
I'm using the directions from here, as well as the advice of a recent acquaintance who's a preservation and fermentation expert, and experimenting with fermenting my own sauerkraut. It's been going for about a week now. I tasted it a few days ago and it had started getting a little tangy already. I don't like dill, so I have caraway seeds, cloves and junipers berries in there.

I didn't make it myself, but this bowl of cheddar grits with roasted root vegetables and a deep-fried soft-cooked egg deserves a moment in the sun. (from Bark)

...Making Stuff
I finally finished those damn gloves. They're gorgeous, but the knitting was so fiddly and annoying that I don't think I'll be able to full embrace them until next year.

I finished the Cardigan of My Dreams, but it needs a belt, so am holding off on taking a modeled photo until I finish that. I'm pretty happy with it, especially with the fit through the shoulders and back. I need to remember to be careful about the width of the upper back going forward — narrowing it by a few inches did wonders for getting a good fit.

Late winter/early spring is the time of year when I always start thinking about sewing and bemoaning my lack of skill and making half-assed attempts and getting frustrated, but I really do think I may make some progress this time. I attempted a muslin of this Built by Wendy dress, but it didn't fit (good through the waist, but too tight at the hips and shoulders), so I traced off the pattern again, combining two sizes. I have a couple of Betsy Ross skirt patterns that I would actually feel fine working up without a muslin — I'm perfectly comfortable with darts and interfacing — but I will have to conquer my nemesis the zipper [shakes fist]. And my other nemesis, being different sizes in my different parts.

Sweet Home Alabama

I've stopped buying most craft books in the last few years, mainly for space reasons, and do a trial run on any that I'm considering purchasing by taking them out of the library first. It builds in a sense of urgency that's missing when I own books, which is good. If I'm not motivated to start anything from a book in the three weeks or so I have it checked out, there's no reason to buy it.*

So, the latest title I've been casting my gimlet eye upon is Natalie Chanin's Alabama Stitch Book. Chanin's line of clothing and textiles, Alabama Chanin, combines traditional methods of sewing, beading and embellishment with a very modern, feminine aesthetic and sustainable approach, all of which is so very, very up my alley. (There's a great interview with her here.) Most of the projects in the book are made with cotton jersey and many of the patterns are designed to be laid out on upcycled old t-shirts; so you dig an old t-shirt out of the back of your drawer, cut it up and sew it back together into an awesome new shirt.

Still, the proof being in the pudding and all, I was curious to see how clear the directions were and whether the finished garment fit. There's a world of difference between doing a thing well and writing a book that will allow other people to do that thing well at home. I decided on the graphic t-shirt corset top because it seemed pretty straight forward and preserved most of the graphic on the front of the shirt.

Everything laid out for the pattern tracing, including a roommate to keep me company:
The freezer paper was perfect for this, sheer enough that I could easily see through to trace, but substantial enough that I don't have to be especially delicate with the pattern pieces.

It's hard to see the pieces in the photo, but you'll have to take my word for it that I've traced all of the pieces out:

The original t-shirt, which I found in a Salvation Army upstate:
You disassemble the t-shirt into sleeveless pieces and lay out the pattern pieces:

These are the pieces for the front and back laid out together before I started sewing:

Basting along the neck and armhole edges to keep them from stretching out too much while I worked, which I'm not convinced really did anything, but the pattern called for it, so I did it. I actually followed the directions more closely than I have for just about anything I've made, actually, even going to the pages that talk about how to sew a straight seam, for example, to see if there was anything I didn't know about that (um, no. it's pretty straightforward, but I did learn a neat trip about wrapping the thread around the edges to start and finish the seam, which was useful):

In progress:
(side note: if anyone knows why my oxalis has that ashy cast, I'd appreciate it. whatever it is doesn't wipe off — not dust or other external schmutz from what I can tell.)

And done!
I absolutely adore this. I love the exposed seams, though I would also like to try making one where the seams are on the inside, in which case I could sew it all on the machine and take this from a somewhat intensive weekend project to one that could be done start to finish in about two hours. The book also gives instructions on making bias tape from the scraps and using that on the neck and armhole edges, which this top would really benefit from, in my opinion, but I didn't see that until I had already tossed the scraps in a fit of tidying. I may add contrasting trim at some point.

The fit is really what makes this for me, but I did have to do some minor modifications, mostly to fix a bit of gaping around the armhole: shortened the straps by about half an inch and took in the front seams closest to the armhole just in the top inch or so. I need to take a closer look at what I did there and change it on the paper pattern too. Actually, doing a binding on the edges might help with the gaping too. Somewhere down the line, I'd like to try my hand at drafting a sleeve cap so I could make a more winter-friendly version.

I'm putting this book on my definitely-to-buy list. After success with this project, I'd feel confident attempting some of the more complicated patterns in the book. Plus, in addition to the patterns, there is a lot of great how-to information about reverse applique and beading and stenciling on fabric. I don't generally learn physical skills well from books, but the combination of gorgeous, clear photos and well-written text make me think that this could function as a reference text for some of those techniques as well.

*I'm actually fairly conflicted about this policy, since I'm also a firm believer in voting with my wallet and buying things that I think should exist in greater quantities (like, say, high quality craft books put out by women who meld traditional techniques with a modern sensibility) to prove that there's a market for them, but I'm also practical about the amount of space and discretionary income that I have. I am totally buying this one though, so I guess my system works?

A finished project

I finally finished hemming this skirt over the weekend, though I haven't managed to get a good photograph of the whole thing yet.
I have so many projects at the moment that just need, say, half a sleeve knit or to be blocked and assembled. Should be more to show sooner rather than later...

July 4 weekend

This weekend, I finally carved out a little time to explore the High Line, which is a really fantastic public space created out of an abandoned, elevated structure that used to carry freight trains above the west side of Manhattan. I had heard a lot of good things about it, but wasn't really prepared for just how really, truly awesome it is.
It pushed a lot of my buttons square on: the interplay between industrial and natural, choosing to redefine what constitutes urban public space (i.e., thinking beyond plunking down a spread of lawn in the middle of asphalt), a love of good design. I was particularly taken with the wildness of the plantings, the fact that they are meant to evoke the sense of the space gone to seed. That constant reminder that this was abandoned, industrial space that has been reclaimed from the brink of irrevocable decay is beautiful and haunting and refreshing.
Even the way the designers handled the way the walkway and the fauna ease together is thoughtful, graceful and evocative.
I also was impressed by the way that the park space was integrated so comfortably into its urban surroundings, that the graffiti and buildings and hanging laundry supported the overall aesthetic, rather than distracting from it, though I had a bitch of a time trying to get photos without billboards in them somewhere. I'd go so far as to say that it felt like a celebration of the full range of human experience instead of an attempt to create a respite from the more unpretty parts of it.

I didn't notice wildlife other than insects, but I do love a good, fat bumblebee.

And speaking of urban wildlife, I spotted this guy when I was walking back to the train. Bugs don't bother me at all, especially outside — in fact, I think they're pretty fascinating in all kinds of ways — but I can see where cockroach haters might get squicked out by this.

I got a fair bit done over the weekend on some long-standing projects too. I've been socking away all of the grey handspun from the last few years that isn't enough for a sweater, but definitely have enough now. It's pretty much all sportweight-ish, and will likely end up as an Icelandic-style cardigan with a patterned yoke. There are three different charcoal varieties (a mohair faux-boucle, some romney/alpaca/glitz and a small skein of what I'm pretty sure was Lincoln/mohair singles), three skeins of light romney/sparkle on the right and 12 oz. of a medium, warmer grey romney/mohair.
At this point, I'm thinking that I'll cast on provisionally for the yoke, work that in some kind of color patterning primarily in the darkest and lightest shades, with a little of the medium to pull that in, then work most of the body and sleeves in the medium shade, using whatever is left for some patterning at the lower edges. I had toyed with the idea of overdyeing the whole batch to make it that much more cohesive, but scrapped that pretty quickly. I really love the natural wool colors.

I finished all of the pieces for Yank, but had returned the book to the library and need to get it back to have the schematics to refer to before I block the pieces. There's no real hurry on that, since it's JULY, but it would still be nice to finish it up.

I also did some sewing(!) on a skirt from Favorite Things. I used some cheap-but-cute cotton that I got at Jo-Ann's at some point, one print for the body of the skirt and another for the flounces. The especially nice thing about this pattern is that while it doesn't call for a zipper, all of the elastic is at the back so there's still a nice, smooth front. I've gotten into the habit of tracing off pattern pieces onto waxed paper in case I want to make other sizes or just not wear the original pattern to tatters.

All of the flounces attached to the panels:
It went together pretty quickly over the course of the weekend. If I hadn't put the flounces on, it would have been doable in a day, but they're just so damn cute. The fit is good, there's plenty of room for taking long strides and it's reasonably flattering, from what I can tell.

Initially, I was hemming it on the machine and it just looked like crap. I could tell it wasn't going to hang well. So I ripped all of that out and started hemming it by hand. It's slow going and my stitching certainly isn't going to win me any ribbons at the fair, but I'm enjoying the process and pretty happy with how it's turning out. Curved hems, though, can bite me, the gorgeous, tempestuous creatures.
The hem is half done as of this morning, so I'll have that done by the end of the week, I should think.

The weekend also included a couple of spectacular sunsets. This one was the night of the 4th, as far as I can remember.

What I've been...

...Reading: Gilead by Marilynne Robinson. For me, this is the kind of book that the library was made for; an epistolatory novel with a dying preacher writing to his young son sounds terrible, no matter how lyrically written. Especially if it's lyrically written. But when I can request a book online, get an email when it's available and pick it up at my leisure, all for free, I'm more inclined to try out some stuff that I've heard good buzz about but wouldn't be excited about otherwise. (I know it's not a new book, but I've seen it mentioned a few places recently, so it's low-level buzz at this point.) And I'm so glad I did. It is lyrical, but it's also wry and warm and full of joy and humor. I'm really enjoying it. And I have nothing against lyricism, but tend to be annoyed at books that are more interested in style than story. IT SHOULD NOT BE AN EITHER/OR SITUATION.

Also, Florence Broadhurst: Her Secret and Extraordinary Lives by Helen O'Neill. I've been meaning to read this for a few years and have not been disappointed. She was born in (seriously) rural Australia, was a singer in a troupe that traveled around Asia in the 1920s, pretended to be a French couturier in London, married a member of the high society, turned out not to have been actually married to him but then made him move to Australia when he had an affair — and I'm not even a quarter of the way into the book. Eventually, she becomes a famous and successful wallpaper designer and is brutally murdered in her studio, but I still have a lot of ground to cover before I get to that point.

And I've been rereading Wolves at Our Door as I fall asleep at night. I really dig this kind of first-person account of field research. The people in this instance are documentary filmmakers who live with and film a captive wolf pack for six years to observe the way the pack interacts. It's pretty amazing stuff, plus I spent three months in that area six years ago and it's kind of fun to recognize the references ("I've totally done that drive from Ketchum to Stanley! It's so twisty and moutainous — of COURSE all the puppies were throwing up! I nearly threw up myself!") The writing itself is a little ... obviously written by people who are not writers, but the material is good enough that it doesn't really matter.

...Watching: I finished up the third season of The Wire and will get started on the fourth season sometime soon. I finally drank the Battlestar Galactica Kool-Aid and am maybe halfway through the second season of that. I'm feeling the need for something a little girlier to balance out all of the space and guns, but not sure yet what that's going to be.

...Failing at executing: Blood orange curd. It seemed like such a promising idea: take all that gorgeous ruby juice, make it into curd and use it to fill a layer cake. I had promised to bring a cake to a birthday party Saturday night and had gotten it in my head that I wanted do something dramatic and fancy with layers and filling and possibly pink frosting, the kind of cake capital-L Ladies would be served, a Lady Cake. I found a recipe for an orange layer cake that sounded tasty as well as pretty and thought a nice, tart filling would be a good balance. And when I found a really cheap bag of blood oranges at Trader Joe's, it seemed like everything was coming up Stephanie.

I juiced the oranges:
Got all of the supplies out, even thinking ahead and adding a lemon because I knew the oranges weren't tart enough to produce an ideal result:
I heated the juice and zest with the butter and sugar and added the beaten eggs, whisking merrily while listening to Marlene Dietrich. And as "Kisses Sweeter Than Wine" played, I had one of those moments in which I was aware of being perfectly happy — all of my senses were engaged, I was in the middle of an enjoyable project in furtherance of a larger enjoyable project, I had a weekend full of good plans ahead of me, plus Dietrich always makes me think of my late friend Jimmie, who used to do a drag cabaret act in her character, and he's someone I always enjoy thinking about.

And then something happened that has never happened to me in all of the times I've made anything with a custard base: the eggs cooked too quickly in the hot liquid, in effect scrambling them and ruining everything forever.
That photo is from when I tried, heroically, to save the day by pushing the curd through a fine sieve, which worked well enough to take out the cooked egg pieces. Unfortunately, the remaining curd had an unpleasantly grainy consistency that I couldn't think of any way to undo. It was sad. And it made doing all the dishes even more annoying since I didn't have anything to show for them.

...Baking, with great success: After the emotional highs and lows of Friday night, I wanted something simpler and failproof, yet still impressive and fantastically delicious. EP and I had been brainstorming about cakes and she suggested that I make Nigella Lawson's Guinness cake, a choice of which I admit to having been a bit dismissive since I was still picturing a towering, pretty, pink Lady Cake, maybe with the names of the birthday people piped on top or, simply, YAY CAKE! But after CurdFail, when my spirit was broken and I was exhausted from sweeping up and throwing away the glittery, broken shards of my layer-cake dreams, I looked at it again and figured what the hell, Nigella has never steered me wrong. We seem to have similar palates and approaches to food and any of her recipes that I've made have turned out really well. Plus, I think she would be a blast to talk about boys with while painting our toenails.

The recipe is in Feast, but also here. I followed it exactly, except that I added both half a teaspoon of almond extract and the juice of half a lemon to the frosting. Oh! And I used a cup and a half of regular white sugar and half a cup of dark brown sugar instead of two cups of superfine sugar.That's it on the left and Erin's pear upside-down cake on the right. I made it Saturday afternoon and it was good that night, but something very special happened to it overnight and by late Sunday afternoon it was a whole different creature. The texture shifted a bit, becoming more velvety and dense, as well as less overtly chocolate, with more of an indefinable, slightly bitter undercurrent. I'm not generally crazy about chocolate cake (I'd rather just have the chocolate, thanks, or a piece of plain butter cake with fruit, not unlike that one up there, as a matter of fact) but this was outstanding. I will absolutely make this again. The cake itself is very moist and just fantastic, plus very quick and easy to throw together = WIN.

...Knitting: Yank, still. I'm just past the initial bind-off at the armholes on the back. Then two sleeves, one front band and the collar to go. I'm still not convinced I have enough yarn, but I'm getting closer to finding out.

...Planning: 1. A cardigan out of the most un-Stephanie, yet delightful, color ever.
It's Louet Riverstone Bulky in strawberry, a very bright orangey pink. I can't explain the attraction, but I love it. I also really like the way it looks against any shade of grey or navy or black or smoky purples (i.e., everything I own). I washed the skeins when they arrived because when I knit Owls out of the same yarn, there was a noticeable difference in the softness and fluffitude, not to mention an overpowering chemical scent when the wool hit the water. Although I should note that the dye was absolutely fast and no visible dirt washed out.

2. A number of sewing projects. It's about this time every year that I start to think about sewing again (and wishing that I were better at it). I have a few projects lined up that should be relatively painless.
a. Two denim skirts. I know I meant one of the denims to be the simple, a-line version and the other to have either the ruffle or the flouncy gore things, but I can't remember which. Whichever I bought more of, I suppose.
(I'm a little scared of all of those women in their cheerful skirts, I have to admit, like they're coming, armed with smiles, to drag me off to their neighborhood barbeque. At which I am to be the entree.)

b. Some pretty patterned cotton for a Built by Wendy top.
(Somehow, the faceless figures with broken necks scare me less.)

c. Two coordinating cotton prints that I know I had some grand plan for that involved a Built by Wendy top out of one of them and a skirt out of the other with either the ruffle or gores done in the shirt print so that I could either wear them together or separately. I *think* the smaller print was planned for the top. My mind's eye likes that better anyway, so that's what we're going with.

d. I have enough of this Mociun hand-printed hemp/silk for a dress, but I'm afraid of ruining it. See? I haven't even taken it out of the packaging.
I think I'll do something with that if/when all of the above projects are done. Juno and I have been having some pre-sewing pep talks — one of my pre-sewing tasks was a public declaration of intention and potential project round-up, so cross that off — and a recurring theme in our conversations has been building in a system of rewards, e.g., after we each make something that we would happily wear in public, we can spend an afternoon in the garment district; after we finish a big, ambitious project that will involve learning new skills (mine is a shirtdress), we can design and order custom fabric from Spoonflower. What can I say? I'm a simple creature; I respond to treats.