Sometimes, I feel so incredibly lucky to work where I do. Like when I spend my day learning about cheese and chocolate and planning gelato sales games. Or when I make videos on how to fry pickles. Perhaps I should say, especially when I make videos on how to fry pickles.
It's a tough job, but someone's gotta do it, right?
Hope you enjoy my work as much as I do!
Friday, January 27, 2012
Sunday, January 8, 2012
On resolutions, with a slice of fudge
It's January again. Time for new beginnings and refocusing on what's important. And for fudge.
I've never been much of one for resolutions. The last two years, my resolution, if you could call it that, was to floss more. That's not my resolution this year because I finally do floss more - maybe not so much as I should, but much more than I did a year ago. However, my flossing habits did not improve because I resolved that they would on January 1, 2011. They improved because I ended up with a $900 dentist bill in September. Somehow, that a little more motivating.
If I had a resolution this year, it might be to write more. Once again, though, if I succeed, it's probably not because I'm saying so now. I have slightly more pressing concerns at the moment: a colleague of mine, who is well known and well respected and happens to write a newsletter that is read by thousands (if not tens of thousands) of people, wrote in this month's newsletter that I wanted to work on my writing. Wow. If that's not the writing equivalent of a $900 dentist bill, I'm sure I don't know what is.
I had this swim coach in college, John. John and I didn't chat one-on-one too often, but when we did, I was always struck by what a good judge of character he was. Once, he commented to me, "You keep your goals very close to your heart, and you aren't very comfortable sharing them with others, are you?" Though I wouldn't have said it the same way myself, I had to admit that he was spot on.
I'm not comfortable sharing my hopes and dreams and goals, I think because I'm not comfortable with the idea of presenting anything to the world in a less than fully completed state. If I'm going to do something, I'm going to do it well. If I announce my intentions, and then I fall short, then it's out there for the whole world to see. Much better to keep my hopes and dreams to myself and then quietly celebrate when I achieve them, right?
Having it announced to the world that I want to work on my writing is terrifying to me. Of course, had I objected, my name would have been omitted (and I must admit, I do appreciate the shout out). But knowing that any and all of my coworkers, that our customers, that anyone who happens to come across this article knows one of my secret aspirations... Let's just say, it's quite a motivator to get back to writing.
The last few months were a blur. My company does 50% of its business in November and December, and 50% of that in the two weeks before Christmas. To handle the extra work load, our year-round crew of about 50 balloons to nearly 450 for those two months. We all work overtime, and we all try to get our usual work done between the barrage of questions coming in from every direction, and I think we all leave at the end of each day wondering what, exactly, we accomplished. It's a wild ride, and a lot of fun, but for me, at least, it's not exactly conducive to the creative process. Perhaps I just need more practice. Luckily, now that Christmas has come and gone and we're a week into the new year, life is returning to a more normal state and I will endeavor to practice more regularly.
In the meantime, I'll nibble on my fudge.
There are so many traditional foods around the world for welcoming the new year: pork and sauerkraut for luck in Pennsylvania and Ohio; lentils that look like coins for prosperity in Italy; grapes for happiness in Spain and Peru. In my family, since before I was around (which must mean forever), it has been tradition to make fudge on New Year's Eve. I don't know that it has any symbolic meaning, but it does guarantee that each year ends - and starts - on a sweet note.
It's a simple recipe - just six ingredients - and it requires none of the marble slab acrobatics so prevalent in the fudge shop windows on Mackinac Island. The fudge it makes is rich and sweet and toothsome, and though perhaps I am biased, I prefer it to any fudge I've ever bought in a shop. It can be made in less than thirty minutes from start to finish, and because it makes five pounds and freezes well, it can be enjoyed for weeks to come. Given that it's how I always start my years, I think it's only fitting that I start this year's writing with the recipe.
Fudge
4 1/2 cups sugar
1 12-oz can evaporated milk
6 tablespoons butter
18 ounces chocolate (lately, I've used Ghirardeli 60% cacao chips, but you could use any chocolate you like)
6-7 ounces marshmallow cream
1 teaspoon vanilla
Butter an 8x8 baking dish or a 9" diameter pie plate.
Heat the butter, sugar, and evaporated milk in a large pan over medium heat, stirring frequently until it just begins to bubble. As soon as the first bubbles appear, start a time for 5 minutes, turn the heat to low, and stir constantly for five minutes as the liquid simmers and boils. After 5 minutes, turn off the heat and stir in the chocolate chips, marshmallow cream, and vanilla. Work quickly to incorporate everything, because as it cools it will be harder to mix together. As soon as it is homogenous, pour the fudge into the buttered dish.
Let the fudge cool before slicing. Eat plain, with a glass of milk and a smile on your face.
Makes 5 pounds
I've never been much of one for resolutions. The last two years, my resolution, if you could call it that, was to floss more. That's not my resolution this year because I finally do floss more - maybe not so much as I should, but much more than I did a year ago. However, my flossing habits did not improve because I resolved that they would on January 1, 2011. They improved because I ended up with a $900 dentist bill in September. Somehow, that a little more motivating.
If I had a resolution this year, it might be to write more. Once again, though, if I succeed, it's probably not because I'm saying so now. I have slightly more pressing concerns at the moment: a colleague of mine, who is well known and well respected and happens to write a newsletter that is read by thousands (if not tens of thousands) of people, wrote in this month's newsletter that I wanted to work on my writing. Wow. If that's not the writing equivalent of a $900 dentist bill, I'm sure I don't know what is.
~*~
I had this swim coach in college, John. John and I didn't chat one-on-one too often, but when we did, I was always struck by what a good judge of character he was. Once, he commented to me, "You keep your goals very close to your heart, and you aren't very comfortable sharing them with others, are you?" Though I wouldn't have said it the same way myself, I had to admit that he was spot on.
I'm not comfortable sharing my hopes and dreams and goals, I think because I'm not comfortable with the idea of presenting anything to the world in a less than fully completed state. If I'm going to do something, I'm going to do it well. If I announce my intentions, and then I fall short, then it's out there for the whole world to see. Much better to keep my hopes and dreams to myself and then quietly celebrate when I achieve them, right?
Having it announced to the world that I want to work on my writing is terrifying to me. Of course, had I objected, my name would have been omitted (and I must admit, I do appreciate the shout out). But knowing that any and all of my coworkers, that our customers, that anyone who happens to come across this article knows one of my secret aspirations... Let's just say, it's quite a motivator to get back to writing.
~*~
The last few months were a blur. My company does 50% of its business in November and December, and 50% of that in the two weeks before Christmas. To handle the extra work load, our year-round crew of about 50 balloons to nearly 450 for those two months. We all work overtime, and we all try to get our usual work done between the barrage of questions coming in from every direction, and I think we all leave at the end of each day wondering what, exactly, we accomplished. It's a wild ride, and a lot of fun, but for me, at least, it's not exactly conducive to the creative process. Perhaps I just need more practice. Luckily, now that Christmas has come and gone and we're a week into the new year, life is returning to a more normal state and I will endeavor to practice more regularly.
In the meantime, I'll nibble on my fudge.
There are so many traditional foods around the world for welcoming the new year: pork and sauerkraut for luck in Pennsylvania and Ohio; lentils that look like coins for prosperity in Italy; grapes for happiness in Spain and Peru. In my family, since before I was around (which must mean forever), it has been tradition to make fudge on New Year's Eve. I don't know that it has any symbolic meaning, but it does guarantee that each year ends - and starts - on a sweet note.
It's a simple recipe - just six ingredients - and it requires none of the marble slab acrobatics so prevalent in the fudge shop windows on Mackinac Island. The fudge it makes is rich and sweet and toothsome, and though perhaps I am biased, I prefer it to any fudge I've ever bought in a shop. It can be made in less than thirty minutes from start to finish, and because it makes five pounds and freezes well, it can be enjoyed for weeks to come. Given that it's how I always start my years, I think it's only fitting that I start this year's writing with the recipe.
Fudge
4 1/2 cups sugar
1 12-oz can evaporated milk
6 tablespoons butter
18 ounces chocolate (lately, I've used Ghirardeli 60% cacao chips, but you could use any chocolate you like)
6-7 ounces marshmallow cream
1 teaspoon vanilla
Butter an 8x8 baking dish or a 9" diameter pie plate.
Heat the butter, sugar, and evaporated milk in a large pan over medium heat, stirring frequently until it just begins to bubble. As soon as the first bubbles appear, start a time for 5 minutes, turn the heat to low, and stir constantly for five minutes as the liquid simmers and boils. After 5 minutes, turn off the heat and stir in the chocolate chips, marshmallow cream, and vanilla. Work quickly to incorporate everything, because as it cools it will be harder to mix together. As soon as it is homogenous, pour the fudge into the buttered dish.
Let the fudge cool before slicing. Eat plain, with a glass of milk and a smile on your face.
Makes 5 pounds
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