Sunday, April 22, 2012

The Rolling Scones: Vanilla Walnut Edition

Scones are a traditional breakfast food in our family. Easter, Memorial day, Birthdays, Christmas, Wimbledon, my parents will find any excuse to bake some yummy treats in the morning. And since scones taste almost as good the next day as they do fresh from the oven, they're perfect when you bake enough to last the rest of the week. We tried a new recipe recently, and to be honest I'm sold on this protein-packed variation.

Now don't be afraid to turn on your ovens, pour a cuppa tea or coffee, and take your breakfast out on your patio for a truly original breakfast experience.


Vanilla Walnut Scones

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup unsalted butter, diced
1/3 cup heavy whipping cream + little extra for brushing
1 egg
1/2 cup granulated sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon maple extract (We had none on hand, so I used walnut extract)
1 cup walnuts, toasted and chopped

Preheat oven to 425 degrees F. and line a cookie sheet with parchment paper.

In a bowl whisk together, the flour, baking powder, and salt making sure they are well combined.

Using a pastry blender cut the butter into the dry ingredients until you have you have a fine crumb texture.

In case you don't know what a pastry blender is...

Add the remaining ingredients into the bowl and stir until the dough comes together.

There are two ways to shape the scones, in wedges or in round, homestyle biscuit-like mounds (think of the typical Bisquick strawberry shortcakes). While the biscuits are more rustic, I prefer the triangular wedges because they are easier to store in our square Tupperware containers. To shape them, roll the dough into the shape of a disc about 8-9 inches in diameter, then slice it into 8 wedges.

Place the wedges onto the lined cookie sheet, lightly brush the scones with the extra heavy cream and sprinkle the tops liberally with sugar. (As you can see in the pictures, I prefer sugar in the raw on top of my scones. It adds extra texture to an already aesthetically pleasing countenance. However, if you don't happen to keep this natural brown sugar on hand, use whatever you have.)

Bake about 10-12 minutes or until golden brown. Serve them warm or let them cool on a wire rack and store. Pop them in the toaster to reheat and crispetize them!

Optional: Top with raspberry jam and a dollop of whipped cream. My mom prefers lemon curd and clotted cream. Deeeelicious!

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Fables and Morality

I just realized that my entire sense of morality is based exclusively upon a bunch of insane, illogical fables and fairy tales that I heard whilst growing up. Some of these might explain why we are so screwed as a generation.

The tortoise and the hare

This is the epic story of some sort of bizarre animal Olympics in which a turtle and a rabbit are racing each other. Everybody expects the rabbit to win, but the shit hits the fan when he decides to take a nap right before the finish line. The turtle eventually passes him and crosses the finish line first, winning the respect of the entire animal kingdom and establishing turtles as one of the fastest land animals around. Moral: I think the moral of this story is supposed to be that slow and steady wins the race, but the only reason the turtle wins is because the rabbit took a fucking nap. There is no way to apply this to real life.

The boy who cried wolf


When a village discovers that their sheep are endangered of being eaten by a wolf, they make the decision to have the precocious, wise-cracking town trouble-maker guard them. Ever the comedian, this kid thinks that it would be a hilarious gag to say that there is a wolf when there really isn’t. Although he is proven correct, the town becomes pissed off at him, especially when he does it a second time. Since this town is full of incompetent idiots, they elect to continue employing this cruel, completely unreliable wretch as their sheep-watcher. The twist is this: When a wolf really does come, nobody listens to the boy, because they think he is up to his old tricks. In the version I’m accustomed to, the wolf is content with just eating the sheep, but I was recently informed that the boy also gets eaten, which was very sad to me, and made me cry for two days.
Moral: If you don’t tell the truth, you will probably die. Also, it might be a good idea to run a quick background check on who you hire to safeguard your town from wolves.

The three little pigs

There’s a wolf cavorting around pigtown, and he wants some bacon. Since most wolves have the magical ability to blow down buildings, this wolf decides to blow down a bunch of pigs’ houses (I don’t know why these pigs are living in houses). One of the pigs is autistic, and he makes his house out of straw, while another pig makes his out of wood, because I guess he wants to live in a cabin. The wolf blows both of these houses down, but he can’t blow down the third pig’s home, because he has built his out of bricks.
Moral: If your house is in jeopardy of being blown down by a wolf, you should probably hire somebody to be on the lookout, or at least hire a contractor to reinforce the walls in your home. To avoid further problems, please refer to the previous story.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Bees are scary.

OK, here’s how stupid bees are: they kill themselves just to piss you off. Think about it. . . . If you were a bee, would you commit suicide simply to sting somebody? I mean, all it would do is give them a momentary feeling of discomfort. Meanwhile, you, the bee, would die slowly and painfully. You know, if I was a bee, I think I’d just scare people a little, like by going in their hair, or landing on their arm. Just to teach them not to go near me when I’m pollinating a flower. Hey, I need my privacy.

Now I don’t mean to come off so “anti-bee” here, but it’s just that I’ve been stung one too many times. Bees can be alright, when they’re chillin’ in their hives and making me a jar of honey. But when they go into your car and sting you? I’m sorry, that’s not cool.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Oral History Abroad: The Youth of Belfast

Ireland has been terrorized for the past century by political separatists, the Irish Republican Army, and guerilla warfare. Though the direct combat has died down since the turn of the century, the danger still remains and is prevalent in the everyday lives of Irish citizens. Religous warfare and political terrorism manifest themselves annually during riots that are widely publicized around the globe. Racial relations have taken a back seat in Northern Ireland as segregation based on religion increased in frequency. For William, a 21 year old Catholic student living in Belfast, having diverse opinions can be dangerous. William's life was shaped by his cultural upbringing in the Belfast area, his social interactions with peers, and the history of the warfare in Belfast.

William was born in the district of Glengormly, in the Greater Belfast area. Looking back, William thought it was a nice area to grow up, yet the people had different mindsets from his own. Glengormly is a very sports-oriented small town where everyone followed Gaelic League football that William was less than interested in as a child. Around the age of 10, William had a selectively small group of friends who were also not included in the football craze. When he was old enough, William decided to leave Glengormly and the sports oriented people behind and retreated into a secluded world of video games and movies.

To further distance himself from his fellow townspeople, William looked forward to grade school, which in Belfast is composed of the seven years of primary school and seven years of secondary school. In Ireland, students are divided into classes based on their proficiency in certain subjects. William's class, however, was separated by age and last name. His core classes, such as english and mathematics, were taken with the form class, the original people he was lumped together with at the start of the first year. Unfortunately, William was placed in a class with a group of other students who were not interested in learning. This was the only year this system applied to. The following year, the school administration realised their mistake and reinstated the old system for future classes. William's class was rated the worst in his school for ten years, but during the final two years, as the college years approached, the mood of his class changed. Students were finally interested in learning, non-sports extra-curricular activities were offered, and William thoroughly enjoyed the topics he learned about. In fact, when his class participated in a mini-business venture as a project, they won the Northern Irish regional competition and were invited to participate in the main event in the Savoy Hotel, London. He described the venture as selling "random stuff, having a laugh doing it, and raising £400." Half of their profits were donated to charity.

After graduating from secondary school, William felt immense pressure to attend a university immediately. According to a study by the Minister of Employment and Learning, Sir Reg Empley, Northern Ireland has the highest participation rate in higher education in the United Kingdom (2010). This statistic can be explained using William's expereince during his final year. Secondary schools pressure all of their students to gain acceptance to a university immediately after graduation to raise their status. It is marketed as the logical next step in education, and William did not want to deviate from that social norm. Additionally, William didn't think he could afford to take a year off before continuing at a university. Most of the jobs available require experience. Experience is learned with higher education. Higher education required money, and William had very little. According to William, he chose to the wrong university first and then took a half year off to recollect his thoughts and spent the time working full time at a supermarket. Even though William has returned to school, part of him thinks its a waste of time. During his time between univeristies, William developed a back-up plan to open a cafe in downtown Belfast. In his own words, "a degree in biological sciences won't get me a job and I now have about £18,000 of debt." Robin Wilson, who wrote an article on the student debt for the Chronicle of Higher Education, a vast majority of college students feel the same sense of hopelessness about their debt situations. Most college students do not, in fact, borrow much money to pay for their college education. Only one third of college graduates leave with no debt at all, and 65% of graduates will owe upwards of $20,000 (Wilson, 2009). Sometimes, William thinks his choice to attend the university was a mistake. "I just continually think about saving up and opening a business so I could have started earlier on that. However if I hadn't went (sic), I wouldn't have met the most interesting people, had the random experiences and generally arsed around that led me to come up with my awesome business idea."

When William moved from Glengormly to Belfast city, he made the transition with ease. However there was a strict line dividing the natives of Belfast from the rest of Northern Ireland. Since Glengormly is only a fifteen minute bus ride from the center of Belfast, William posessed the modern Belfast accent. Just beyond Glengormly, the accent drastically changes and those residents of Northern Ireland are known as "culchies." These "out of towners" stand out in a crowd and are generally not respected by the citizens of Belfast. They are, in a sense, the "rednecks" of Northern Ireland.

William experienced religious oppression when he was still in his teens. He was hanging out with a group of friends when he met a young woman. From the instant they met, they were inseparable. For two years their freindship blossomed into a young romance. Unfortunately for William, this young lady's father did not approve of their friendship. In the police database, certain areas of Northern Ireland are blacklisted as the most dangerous for police officers. Her father was a high-ranking police officer, and their Protestant family was accustomed to living in a rather rich neighborhood. William happened to live next door to one of those highly Catholic blacklisted areas. Previously, when violent riots occurred rather often, there were a great number of police officers killed in the line of duty. For the safety of her family, William and his girlfriend agreed to stop seeing one another. While this may have seemed unfair at the time, William now recognizes the danger of the situation and is thankful that his girl friend's family would not be in danger because of his actions.

In the Belfast area, one Protestant tradition is marching in the Orange parades. Not all Protestants participate, though even a small amount will cause public outcry. The Orange Order was originally established to suppress the Catholics. One area was called Ardoyne, where the orange men always march, and unfortunately, is extremely Catholic. William further explains: "Riots traditionally break out most years, but this year was particularly bad. Some kids, kids being the operative word here, dropped a breeze block on a police woman's head and nearly killed her." The riot began in Northern Belfast on July 12 and continued for three days. The news confirmed that the police woman was in stable condition in the morning. Children as young as 8 years old were videotaped participating in the violence. The Orange Order rejected a new route proposed by groups attempting to mediate during the annual march, and William plans to avoid the blacklisted areas during that time.

Religious prejudice is not just located in the urban areas but has permeated the Irish culture right down to the pubs. Though some pubs are separated by political factions of the religious groups, two have polarized businesses in Belfast. The Republicans are typically Catholic followers and would prefer Norther Ireland to separate from Britain and return to the political unit of Ireland. Unionists, on the other side of the spectrum, are typically Protestant and want to keep the link with England. William has noticed that in certain areas where the beliefs are very strong in one way or the other, the bars tend to be marketed toward that group. However, the vast majority of bars are neutral which accounts for their popularity, and only a select few enforce the separation.

A recent study by the Journal of Youth Studies used a 2006 Life and Times Survey to update their findings about the adoption of a Northern Irish identity and a positive view of community relations is increasingly common among Protestants. The surveys also showed that 36% of young Northern Irish adults considered themselves Protestants where as 17.8% identified themselves as Catholic. Adults, on the other hand, were more evenly split, 25% Protestant and 23% Catholic (Table 1). Studies further show that the Protestant religion is a rising trend, particularly among teenagers (Figure 2). When questioned on how importantly they value their national identity, 51% of the Northern Irish surveyed responded "very" or "quite important," while only 40% of the Protestants responded the same. Therefore, even though the young adults of Northern Ireland are primarily Protestant, they are not as positive about their national identity.

There is a strong sense in Northern Ireland that anyone outside of the group is "bad" or "dangerous." This violence is not as widely publicized as the sectarian killings. However, there may still be hope for younger generations. According to William, "I hang out with Protestants because they're the nicest guys you'll ever meet, even though I'm from a Catholic background." The origins of the conflicts are barely mentioned in school around grade 3, and William describes it as learning how the roles were reversed, yet most students and parents argue that it was a lie. At the annual Fresher Fair on campus, each political faction has a booth, but otherwise the students are not bothered by the propaganda. All political and religious groups do not receive funding in order to promote a unified front so the university is not seen supporting one arguement or the other. If a society requires more funding, the bursaries are based on needs rather than an automatic budget. By down-playing the differences between separate groups and treating them the same from the school-age up, William predicts that more of his peers will agree that there is a rational way to heal the differences between the Catholic Irish and the Protestant Irish populations.

William has maintained a positive attitude towards the separate religous and political factions. The militant leaders he read about in the news as a young boy have reformed and joined the peace process. William, while not personally affected by the riots or the violence, has learned to value his friends for their company rather than their ancester's religious beliefs. Once he graduates from the university, he is prepared to enter the professional world of Northern Ireland. He is a self-proclaimed Catholic British citizen, but more than that, he is a student and a friend. Religious intolerance has no place in the next generation of William's peers.





References

Empey, R. (2010, October 18). Northern Ireland’s higher education participation rates are best in UK. Department for Employment and Learning. Retrieved November 27, 2010, from http://www.delni.gov.uk/index/press-releases/press-releases-october10-december10/northern-ireland-s-higher-education-participation-rates-are-best-in-uk.htm.

Hayes, B., & McAllister, I. (2009). Religion, identity and community relations among adults and young adults in Northern Ireland. Journal of Youth Studies, 12(4), 385-403. doi:10.1080/13676260902866504.

Wilson, R. (2009). A Lifetime of Student Debt? Not Likely. (Cover story). Chronicle of Higher Education, 55(37), A1-A22. Retrieved from Academic Search Complete database.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Nothing says "BFF" like blood and band-aids

I used to think it was outrageous that two people saying something simultaneously should be grounds for a jinx. Whenever somebody jinxed me, I would be all, “What the hell, man? We said the same thing because we’re on the same page here. Why am I being punished with a fucking curse?”

I now realize that jinxing was invented because we need a game to break the tension inherent in this situation. Imagine saying “I’m thirsty!” in unison with your friend, except neither of you has the power to jinx. You would both just kind of stand there and awkwardly laugh due to how stupid your lives have suddenly become. There’s actually no graceful way out of this situation. Jinxing may sound childish, but it’s a choice between that or the two of you spontaneously making out.

Where I draw the line is the idea that now I somehow owe my friend a Coke, because I don’t. It’s like, “You’ve just pinched me and poked me—I’ve been publicly humiliated for absolutely no reason. Under no circumstances am I going to take you out for Cokes.” It’s such an insane ritual, too, because nobody in the history of jinxes has actually collected on their Coke. I probably owe about $3,000 worth of Cokes right now, and there’s no need for it. How in the hell did Coke even become involved with this bullshit?

Researching frivolous subjects on Wikipedia is a hobby of mine, so I consulted their (largely retarded) jinxing article. I didn’t find anything close to resembling an answer, but I did come across the following intriguing excerpt:

A variation experienced in Southern Massachusetts in the 1960s may not be strictly considered a “jinx,” but when two people say the same thing in unison (unplanned!), they must hook little fingers and say the following dialog: “What goes up the chimney?” “Smoke.” “May your wish and my wish never be broke!”

That’s probably the cutest thing I’ve ever read. I imagine two grown men hooking their pinkies together and excitedly breaking into this little exchange. To me this is way more positive than demanding a Coke from your friend and beating the shit out of him. It’s a chance to share a wish! The next time an acquaintance and I speak in unison, I’m going to begin reciting this routine, because it’s the perfect way to avoid any lingering awkwardness. Hopefully all my acquaintances are familiar with proper jinxing protocol from 1960s Southern Massachusetts, or else I’m going to look like a real asshole.

When it comes to a proper pinch and punch, my friends and I have begun a war of the months. On the first day of the month, all hell breaks loose. "Pinch, punch, first of the month, no backs," a couple of fresh bruises later and we're magically still best friends forever. The losing party, which usually consists of me, can retaliate with "a kick and a flick for being so quick." This is the greatest excuse you could ever have to beat the living shit out of that one friend who talks just a little too much or is just a little too happy on Monday morning.

Hypothetical situation: You both shout "Pinch punch, first of the month, no backs! Jinx!" Now what? Do you both pinch and punch and poke one another followed by a mutual Coke binge nursing your matching black eyes? When does the cycle end?

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Adventures in Awkwardland, Episode 18: Start 'em Young

It's been a hard week for my family. My dad's brother recently passed away after an unfortunate accident. My Uncle Jim lived in Indiana, far enough from Lancaster or Erie that we only saw him on very special occasions, the usual weddings and funerals. He was a quiet spoken man, and I always had the impression he was shy. Our huge family is definitely intimidating and I was the same way.

My earliest memory of Uncle Jim is terrifying to me and definitely fits as my youngest Awkwardland story to date.


I was probably about three or four years old and we were visiting my Grandfather in Erie, but I think someone was getting married since absolutely everyone had showed up. All seven of my aunts and uncles, a plethora of cousins, and an even bigger gaggle of second cousins for me to run around with. Eventually, as usually happened when I was little, I got tired of messing around with toys and probably wanted a cookie or whatever children ate back in those days. I ran over to my dad and hugged his leg, trying to get some attention.

When he picked me up, I started to scream, flying into full fledged panic mode. This wasn't my dad at all, but some stranger impersonating him!!

From afar, my dad and Uncle Jim look remarkably similar, they could be twins. Not the best first impression I would want my relatives to remember, but definitely bittersweet.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Title Unrelated

I think every movie should be like The Princess Bride in that they should all be interrupted every fifteen minutes by Fred Savage telling his grandfather what he thinks of the story. Imagine how much greater Jurassic Park 3 would have been if, right when a dinosaur was about to eat somebody, the scene suddenly switched to Fred Savage sitting on his bed and saying, “But the dinosaur won’t eat them, grandpa, I just know it!” Then his grandfather would say, “Do you want me to continue telling the story or not? Now, as I was saying, the tyrannosaurus was chasing after them, when all of a sudden …” And then it would switch back to the action. This would make any movie way more interesting—in fact, I now find it difficult to watch a movie that isn’t being told to Fred Savage by an old man. And that’s a hell of a lot of movies.