Happy Halloween, 3 days later

Here's a quick lil' post for ya, one that I didn't plan on doing until about, ohhh 3 seconds ago. But hay hay! Sometimes I ride the waves of spontaneity! (so not true)

So Happy Halloween to all those who love the holiday as much as I do. We had a bit of a party at our little Brooklyn Park house. We worked hard all week preparing, eating candy, crafting spookies, eating candy, decorating, making ghosts out of tampons, and eating candy. Did I already mention eating candy? Oh Yeah, there's no end in sight. Anyhooo.




Can you guess who I was? Here's a hint: He's the ghost with the most, baby.
That's right! Beetlejuice! Good job. Ok ok. That's enough. Don't say it again.
Haha! You're so funny. But really, just not a third time. Please.
Wait, no don't...don't do it...no.....NO! NOOOOO!!!!!!!
(ok I'm done)



Roommate Photo! We may have to blow this up and put it on our dining room wall...



I'm clearly madly in love with whomever I'm looking at outside the frames of this picture. That's my "lurve you" face. Or my, "damn, you're good lookin" face. Who it may be? I may never know.

These photos were taken expertly by my best friend, who took the time to set up an area of the house like a photo booth, and then man it all night long. She ended up with 250 or so pictures from that night. Whoa.

I've pretty much been MIA lately because of this really fun and exciting project that I've been working on. I was asked to hang some drawings up in a cafe near my hood. Well, instead of hanging up work that I already have (silly silly idea), I decided to produce all new pieces. So, for the last two weeks, a day in the life of Brooke basically went like this: Wake up, yawn, stretch, go to work, bust out some pastries for the ladies, go home, stretch, put on stretch pants, brew some coffee, and sit down and draw for 6 hours. Stretch in stretch pants. Go to bed. That, and Halloween prep have consumed me completely.
Alas, I finally hung my work yesterday. Now I'm free. Freeeeeeee! Free to start more drawing. I'm an addict. I wish I could post pictures, but I didn't have the opportunity to scan them. But if you're in the Portland Metro Area, please check them out. They're at Cafe Pallino located at 3003 SE Division St, Portland, OR 97202.
On to the next, I say!!!
xxx
B

Fall is upon us...

...and I couldn't be happier about it. I've mentioned this before. In fact, I get this way every year... but I really think Fall is the most super spectacular! I mean, I love summer as much as the next guy. But when it comes down to it, I know in my purest heart of hearts, that Fall is by far best season. I guess you could say the feeling comes from the pit of my stomach. It's telling me to get cooking, because what's better than comforting cool weather dishes?? Y'know, the kind of food loaded with fat, sugar and carbs? Yeah! You remember and love it as much as I do, admit it. My philosophy? When the time is right, indulge. It just so happens that for me, the time is always right. What? Don't look at me like that.

So yes, it's baking season. No, for reals this time! Ok, it's always baking season. But now I'm out in full force. Be expecting a lot of food related posts to be popping up over the next several months.

Starting with.....

Zucchini Bread



mmmmmm, vegetable-y sweetness.

I drooled over this recipe during my return flight home from New York. It was in the Food and Wine magazine last month. Both food creations I'm featuring today were from that particular issue.
This Yogurt-Zucchini Bread with Walnuts was everything I wanted it to be. Well, almost everything. I prefer a very moist sweet bread. I find a lot recipes out there have an airier crumb than I would like. I don't want fluffy, I want dense, darn it! This one is halfway there. And it improved with age. The next day, I wasn't forcing myself to smother it in butter to fight off any unwanted dryness. But I still smothered it in butter anyways. Because it's delicious, that's why.

Pull Apart Cheesy Onion Bread, oh my god.



Recipe
I have absolutely only the highest regards for this recipe. Not only was it super fun to make (can you say "playing with food?"), but it was finger licking, napkin wearing, good. Yeah, it was kinda greasy, completely buttery, a wee bit cheesy, and totally crumbly. Beaming. Slice it up the next day, throw it in a toaster, and taste the magic. Yes...the magic. Please, don't be intimidated by bread baking. I can't stress that enough. It may seem scary. But start simple. No yeast involved. No rising time. It couldn't be easier or more rewarding. Just try not to eat the whole thing, hard as it is.


Oh....well, hello, beautiful hand-dyed, hand-spun yarn by Angela...how do you do?
You sure are a pretty one.....
...It's go time!
Lasers! Lasers shooting out of my fingers! Pew pew pew!



That's right folks. I've got my knitting fingers back. In full swing.



I decided to make something really simple with this yarn, to show off it's beautiful colorway. I settled on a no frills beanie because I was eager to knit something up really quick. Ahh the satisfaction of single day knitting. Victorious!

I started this hat off using the Felicity Pattern on Ravelry. But I modified it so I wouldn't run out of yarn. I love how it turned out, super cozy. I think I feel like a quick frolic in the woods! Tromp tromp tromp.

In more exciting news:


Ta Da!!!

The bike that Brooke built. Well, I can't completely claim that. But! I did attach the wheels, the fenders and the seat (with guidance). Which is really huge for me. I'm super enthusiastic that I'm finally learning so much about bicycle maintenance. I was lucky with this "new" bike. My roommate had it lying amongst the cobwebs in the basement, unused. It really didn't fit her right. So she handed it off to me. AND, with a little TLC she looks great! Don't you think?

RIP Centurion LeMans

I have to post a quick message directly spoken from my sad sad heart...

I woke up smiling this morning at the sun shining through my windows. My plans for the day included a trip to the bike shop for some bicycle maintenance and fender attachment. The friendly employee at The Community Cycling Center gladly pulled my bike out of my trunk and brought in for inspection. He looked at the bike, then at me, then back at the bike. With a furrowed brow and a sigh in his voice, he informed me that my beloved friend was on the verge of breakage. He pointed out the impurities in the frame.
"Someone's crashed this bike," he said gently. The damage to the bike was obvious, once it had been pointed out to me. The conclusion? It would be dangerous for me to continue navigating the streets on it. I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. I left the shop with my head held high...but it didn't take long before the tears were streaming down my cheeks.



In order for anyone to understand the attachment I have to this inanimate object, you'd have to be made aware of the history I have with it.


A Tribute:
This bicycle has been in my family for 40 years. Once upon a time, it belonged to my mother. She was the first owner. She jetted around on these same two wheels throughout college. I inherited it when I moved away to attend the same college. This speedy machine was my pride and joy. Always has been. I love the way it feels gliding over the pavement, so swift. We've been through so much together. At one point, many years ago, it was stolen from under my nose. I cried and cried over the loss. But to my disbelief, just a few weeks later I encountered the thief and strong armed my bike back into my life. I knew at that point that this bike and I were meant to be. Although I wasn't able to take her to New York, I thought of her often. Just imagine my joy when we were reunited just a few short months ago. I thought our love affair would last much longer. But here I am, being forced to let her go...again.

I'm thinking about having a funeral. Is that too much?
I won't forget the amazing times I've had riding this bike around Oregon. I sigh in sadness as I reluctantly shop for another bike to get around on.





Goodbye LeMans. Je t'aime.

I Ate New York

I returned from New York about a week and a half ago, but only just now found a brief moment to update this blog. I'm pretty low on energy right now, too, and don't have a lot of patience for the time it takes to complete this thing. What? It's Sunday morning! I should technically still be sleeping. But I inherited this annoying gene that forces me to get up early no matter what. Soo...my nagging brain got me outta bed, and now I'm here before you, raw and unfiltered, trying to spew out some sort of logic in a comprehensible manner. More coffee, please!

New York was great! Fantastic, even.
I basically ate my way through the city for 9 days straight. That's what you do, right? When you travel? You eat copious amounts of food, gain a little weight, come home with a new idea of what cuisine should be? Well, that's what I did. Not that Portland doesn't have some of the most incredible food out there, but I spend a lot less time going out to eat here because I can't afford to. But when you're on vacation....do as New Yorkers do EVERYDAY (how do they afford this?), and eat out. By the end of the trip, I knew, with my most purest heart of hearts, that I wanted to dedicate my life to food. What that means for me exactly? No idea. But I'm excited, I'm enthused, and I'm HUNGRY.
The wedding party I flew specifically to New York for was incredible. I have such amazing and talented friends. We came, we cooked, we conquered.

Prepping for the party started at 2pm. Guests trickled in throughout the evening, some of the bringing their culinary prowess, some just bringing a helping hand.

Stuffed jalapenos for the rooftop grill.

Cheese filled proscuitto wrapped dates, also to be grilled.

Judah fires up the grill as the rest of the guests trickle in. A handful of us set up the food and alcohol on tables, and the sun sets behind the Manhattan skyline.

Picturesque, isn't it? The party continued through the night into the wee hours of the morning. It was amazing reuniting with old friends, some of which I hadn't seen for 6 or more years. We spent the weekend together, catching up over food and drink. I couldn't have asked for anything more.

The next day was spent recovering and relaxing.

The Waterfront Park in Williamsburg is a new addition to the neighborhood, with great views of Manhattan. A perfect place to sit and enjoy the beautiful sunset.

And of course, eat snacks.

Red Velvet donuts from my favorite donut shop in Greenpoint, Peter Pan Bakery
Yummmmm. (best donuts around....and you know how I love them pastries)

Next day...

A simple picnic at Governor's Island turns into a buffet of fine foods and sparkling wines.




We hopped back on the ferry that afternoon to take us back to the city. Once in Brooklyn, we spent the evening filling ourselves up with german sausages and steins of beer at the Radegast Hall and Biergarten.

I mean, I ate and ate and ate...

But I also knit. I trucked it over to my friend Rebecca's place for a meet-up with my old knitting group. Incredible! Reunited and it feels so good! Now don't get me wrong...we ate. We ate A LOT! And it was delicious, of course. But more importantly, I felt like a part of that group again, as though I'd never moved away. I have missed it terribly. I wished I could have spent more evenings with them, but unfortunately, my time was very limited. I left them that night feeling like I would always be a part of them, no matter where I was. And I also left with some home made jam, bourbon cherries, and some gorgeous hand spun, hand dyed yarn, courtesy of Angela (which I will picture later).
Thanks so much, ladies!

Well, one quick trip to the yarn shop...

Ah Purl, je t'aime.

I flew home last week exhausted and satisfied. I'd had a perfect trip, really. And an important one. Because although I love New York, and feel like it's played a huge role in shaping me into the person I am now, it didn't take long before I was reminded why I left. And by the end, those reasons were becoming more evident and I'd started feeling like I'd been rubbed a little bit raw by the harsher qualities of the city.
Stepping off that plane onto Oregon soil was in incredible sigh of relief. It helps, too, when you're greeted at the airport by your friends parading around playing horns and drums....just for you.