Flip It!

The other day the TM and I were invited to an impromptu gathering at the home of some friends. We were lured with the promise of beer and fire and good company, and that’s pretty much all we need to clear our schedules, so we accepted.

The day before I got a text asking if we could provide the desserts, and as any long-time reader of my blog will know, this was right up my alley. So much so, the TM had purchased a special cookbook called The Joy of Cheesecake for Christmas this past year.

I quickly responded back that I would be glad to bring a cheesecake. After much perusing of the cookbook and keeping in mind the audience (one of the friends has a severe gluten allergy)… I was at a loss. Then the TM suggested a crustless blueberry cheesecake. It looked fairly straightforward, and I like blueberries, so I was sold.

This cheesecake presented a few firsts for me. It was the first cheesecake I’d made that didn’t call for baking. It was set using gelatin instead, which I’d never used before. It was the first crust-free cheesecake I’d ever made. It was also the first one that uses cottage cheese as well as cream cheese. It also didn’t use any flour at all.

I should mention a couple more things… First, The TM decided to go to bed immediately after we purchased the supplies, and she’s the expert baker in the house. I’ve utilized her advice throughout all of my previous baking adventures. I was flying solo.

Second, there was an additional, optional level of difficulty in that the cheesecake was designed to be flipped after it sets, so that the berries are on top.

It’s possible that I bit off more than I could chew.

After much discussion, the TM suggested that I use wax paper or parchment paper to line the pie pan, thus making the cheesecake easily flappable when the time came.

Did I listen? That would have made far too much sense. My need for aesthetic won the day, and I felt that the crinkly paper would make the cake look messy after the paper was peeled away.

So with that, she went to bed, and adrift on a sea of dairy I went.

The very first bit of instruction the recipe gave was to put the cottage cheese through a sieve. I immediately began thinking to myself “Do we have a sieve?” and “I’ve never seen a sieve in the house.” And indeed, we don’t have a sieve, so I started to brainstorm.

After a cursory look through the kitchen, and dismissing things like the cheese grater and garlic press as either too messy or too time intensive respectively, I settled on a wire colander. I poured the cup of large curd cottage cheese into that colander, threw on a rubber glove, and started pressing it bit by bit through the drainer. I can’t say this was a fun task. The colander wasn’t ergonomically designed to have cheese pressed through it, and my hand started seizing up before long. That may be the saddest thing I’ve ever admitted, but you know.. there it is.

I also had this sneaking suspicion that the drainer didn’t quite make the cottage cheese as smooth as it was supposed to be. When I relayed this portion of the story to the TM later on, without missing a beat, she was all “Food processor. Duh”.

I’ll just sit here being ashamed.

The next step in the process was to combine the sugar, egg yolk, milk, and gelatin in a double boiler until it was all dissolved.

Do we have a double boiler? Nope.

This wasn’t as big a problem since I’ve improvised them before for melting chocolate and whatnot. I ended up using 2 separate sauce pans of different sizes. The biggest problem I had during this step was that I didn’t realize that the main light that illuminates the stove area was out, and I had a really tough time determining the progress of the concoction. This wasn’t really that big an issue, but it was at least a challenge in the moment.

The next steps were pretty straightforward. You know.. the usual:

Mix the cream cheese and cottage cheese and lemon juice until smooth and “fluffy”.
Mix in the gelatin mixture.
Whip the egg white into stiff peaks and incorporate.
Whip the heavy cream into stiff peaks and incorporate.

All of those things are easy, and nothing new. In fact, the remainder of the assembly went smoothly.

I buttered the pie pan as instructed (as preparation for the later flipping) and spread an entire carton of blueberries around the bottom. This was, in fact, the “crust” of this crustless cheesecake. The concept here was that once the cheesecake set, I’d be able to seamlessly flip it over, and have this beautiful cheesecake with this amazing topping of blueberries somewhat embedded into the top, and also a bit softened and sweetened by the process.

I went to bed with at least middling hopes that I could pull it off. I had a fairly lofty expectation that that aside from the strange grainy texture of the entire thing (created by the improper smoothing of the cottage cheese), the cheesecake would be a hit, much like most of the confections from my past. Some of which have been immortalized right here in print.

I even tasted the “batter” off the spatula, and was at least relatively optimistic that the flavors and the flipping would win out.

Anyway, cheesecake sat, and it chilled, and the gelatin set. All overnight.

The next evening, we made preparations to head over. The TM was all “alright.. let’s flip this bitch.” And I was all “Uh… I… uh… I don’t think we should yet. Maybe [The Burly Amigo] will help when we get to their house.”

The TM looked at me skeptically, but shrugged, and was all “Alrighty.” I could see the disappointment in her eyes. That look where she’ll forever know I’m a pussy when it comes to flipping cheesecake.

I believe in that moment she knew we’d never be flipping any damned cheesecake that night. And she was right.

By the time we got over to the [Burly and Gluten-Free Amigos (GFA)] home, the cheesecake had softened a tad, and warmed, and my courage had entirely dissipated. I talked it over very briefly with Burly Amigo (BA from here on) and BA was all… “Yeah… maybe we better not. I’m sure it’ll be good as is.”

With that, we ate dinner, had some beer, and sat around the bonfire for a while. Maybe a little too long, as by the time we got around to wanting the dessert, the cake had softened a bit more, and it didn’t hold shape well at all. Certainly this made the notion of flipping it a laughable one, but even more disappointingly it made the integrity of each piece fairly tenuous too. Gloopy even.

I’m not gonna go through the play by play from here. The cheesecake was consumed politely, mostly. The BA didn’t seem to like blueberries (I could KICK myself because it certainly could be pretty much ANY berry), and I was completely put off by the texture. And the GFA seemed to choke some down, but let’s be clear. Nobody, including me, clamored for seconds of any kind.

I’d call it the worst attempt at a dessert I’d ever made. Certainly, the texture was unappetizing. It was a failure of execution, made worse by my pussery. I believe that had I made an attempt at flipping it at home, and failed, we would have at least successfully made it to the grocery for a replacement. If I’d unsuccessfully flipped it at the home of the Amigos, I would at least have had a good story.

As it is, I had a fairly run of the mill cheesecake with decent flavor, but fatal texture. Like… seriously, it’s no good.

At least in the future I’ll know to use the food processor. Or maybe we’ll by a fucking sieve.

And lord willing I’ll have the balls to flip the bitch.

Where do you Start?

It's 11 at night on a Sunday. I had one of those days today that makes me sentimental and reflective. I don't typically spend a lot of time on my blog discussing my personal life, so you know... read or skip, but you've been forewarn.

I often wonder where my life would have taken me with one different turn.

There are so many forks in the road that has been my life.

How about that decision I made, round about my junior year of high school, where I chose to follow the dream of being an actor and not a history teacher. The decision to not be a paleobotanist was sort of made for me by my extreme lack biology acumen. The decision to not be a baseball player was made even sooner by my aggressive lack of discipline.

The choice between actor and teacher was a tough one for me. More than most people know. I still love the idea of teaching. I mean... what other job can you have where you are so demonstrably smart? I love thinking I'm smart. I may, or may not be actually smart, but I sure love feeling like I am. History still holds a unique fascination for me. I had some extraordinary history teachers in high school. I've always thought there was something magical about finding some way to share these elegant facts in a way that draws in the otherwise apathetic.

Of course, it's a romantic notion. And god damn, I'm nothing if I'm not a romantic. Which leads me to my ultimate decision... What's more romantic than joining a profession of poets and performers and idealists and all of those things that 16 year olds think actors are?

So I put all my eggs in that basket. I spent the next year searching for a college program for theatre. I gave no thought at all to what would happen if I changed my mind. This is how I ended up at Wright State University. As a Musical Theatre major. Amazing the possibilities that were ahead of me.

So... There's the fork I think about all the time. The number one fork. And it has led to so many more forks...

What would my life look like had I not been cut from the Musical Theatre BFA program after my freshman year?

Would I live in Chicago or New York? Would I be married? Would I be broke? Would I love theatre or view it as a job? (See... that was always the thing I thought I'd never lose.)

Just the other night I was reminded of my thought process the Summer after I got cut. It was too late to get in to most colleges for the Fall term, so I considered delivering pizzas for a year while I tried again. I considered just moving to New York and trying my luck (at 19!! What a fucking joke. I could barely do my own laundry.) Dee Anne suggested I go talk to one of her long-ago mentors at Thomas More College, Dr. Ron Mielech. Doc (as I'd soon come to know him) offered me an immediate second chance. I wasn't ready to let go of my dream of being an actor, even though I'd been told that the dream was ready to let me go.

Suddenly I was enrolling and registering for classes at a college that I thought was an internet college or something. A thought based almost entirely on a really dumbass jingle on the radio, and no other information to go by.

I found myself thriving, and loving this small (decidedly NOT Internet) college in Northern Kentucky. Amazing what a string of decisions leads to.

Don't worry... even though I could break this down into hundreds of individual decisions of course, I won't. I could discuss the minute details of choice after choice. I have an absolutely stellar memory.

Oh god... This is getting weird. I'm not good at sharing like this. I tend to ramble...

The point is, I'm grateful. It's crazy... I finished a really miserable week at my job where I worked 12 hour days from a combination of sweat boxes and a hotel room. I missed the Muchacha something fierce. I missed our cats. I got home yesterday morning, and found my love of home renewed.

I mean, there's always room for improvement. I need to get a crown on one of my teeth this week. I could stand to lose a few pounds (as usual). Work is insanely stressful, and not that much fun. (Spoiler Alert: I decided not to be an actor). I could read more.

Today I spent a day with the beautiful Muchacha, doing all kinds of mundane things like hardware shopping, marathon training, and watching True Blood with a friend. I find myself happier than I've ever been.

I think about my life and I reverse-engineer the decisions that brought me here, and despite the pain and flux and confusion that many of those decisions caused in the short term, I have to say thanks to that 16 year old version of me for getting me to today somehow, because today? Fucking rocked.

5 Days to Disney: A Magical Journey Indeed

I have no idea why, but Figment has also become the mascot of a few Gay Pride Weekends at Disney World. Seriously. (that's true, by the way).

Of all of the ridiculously nostalgic, overly sentimental choices I've made on this blog-down, this one is so far ahead of all of the others, it really should be called "getting Figmented" when I romanticize something to this degree.

Throughout this experience I've come thisclose to putting "Journey into Imagination" up at least 5 times. The reason I haven't is that really... it's kind of a dumb ride. It's slightly better than El Rio del Tiempo (a ride that I've somehow missed discussing entirely, but could easily have dropped in somewhere along the way for exactly the same reason.) The past version of this ride, when it featured the Dreamfinder, primarily, was incredibly popular. The storyline was that the Dreamfinder created this purple dragon (Figment) and they traveled through places where "imagination" was used. This was the the ride that I knew and loved as a kid. In 1998 Disney changed things up, wholly removing Figment from the ride and basically pissing everyone off in the process.

Disney fans are a fairly vocal group, and they've raised ruckuses before. They went NUTS when Mr. Toad closed. This, however, may be the only time the fans were heeded. It took 4 years, but in 2002, Disney brought back Figment and re-incorporated him into the ride. It's not as good as it once was, though it still features a the song by the Sherman Brothers "One Little Spark", which is pretty fantastic. Still...the ride holds a dear place in my heart, and I effing LOVE Figment. He's hilarious.

So basically I went to write about this ride half a dozen times, but it's not that good, and there's not much to say about it, so I kept putting it off... then I realized about 3 or 4 days ago that it's so much a part of my ultimate Disney experience that not only could I not leave it off, but that it deserved a spot in my Top 7.

It's easily the least attended ride on the list (aside from the People Mover and Carousel of Progress.) I don't know if I've EVER waited more than 5 minutes to ride it. This actually adds to the specialness for me, because it's a guaranteed time-killer and air conditioning surge. It's great.

Basically this ride is so special to me for 1 reason...

It was one of the first rides I rode at Epcot and while it seemed a little "kiddie" even then, there was a charm about it. It also so much embodies all of the beauty of Epcot. Or at the time "E.P.C.O.T." It's a ride about innovation, and imagination, and creativity. It's got a catchy tune and a beloved character. It was probably dated the moment it rolled off, but for some reason it's always captured the... ehem... imagination of the audiences. It's not as good as it once was, but I never feel more permitted to be silly than on that ride. I love it.

And now... The Disney Trivia Question of the Day

Question: What company has sponsored Journey Into Imagination since it's inception?

If you think you know, please send an e-mail to blog@beefymuchacho.com

Everyone with the correct answer will receive a point. An incorrect answer gets 1/2 a point. The person with the most points will get a Limted Edition Pin purchased during my stay.

Standings are being updated daily at http://www.beefymuchacho.com/ on the "Contests" page.

I'll repost the questions with the answers at the end of the contest.

8 Days to Disney: Makes me all emotional. Like a baby kitten.

So, I think we've probably got it pretty well established that I am an emotional mess when it comes to some thing Disney related. I like to cry a little. I like going to Disney and tapping in to every weird little nostalgic tidbit I can.

I've realized that so much of why I'm so in love with that place, is that I love to revisit past great times just as much as I love to experience new great times. Well... if there's a single attraction in all of the parks that, for whatever reason, gets me more than almost any other is Mickey's Philharmagic.

Much like the Monsters Inc thing from yesterday, the concept of this attraction is pretty simple.

We're in a giant concert hall, there for a symphony concert conducted by Mickey Mouse and his enchanted instruments. Donald Duck steals Mickey's sorcerer hat and the instruments revolt and hide in all of these past Disney animated films. Oh...and it's in 3-D.

The thing that makes it amazing is the execution. It's easily the best 3-D I've ever seen, in terms of the huge number of layers and the details. It's fantastic. They also incorporate Donald and the instruments into the famous scenes from these movies seamlessly. He's on the Magic Carpet with Aladdin and Jasmine in "A Whole New World". He flies around Big Ben with the kids in Peter Pan. He enjoys Belle's feast in Beauty and the Beast. It's truly a beautifully executed film. The music is moving. It has a great, simple storyline that is crammed into about a 10 minute thing. It's funny, heartfelt, and the music is incredible and familiar.

When I went back to Disney for the first time in almost 5 years in January of 2005 and I experienced this for the first time, I think I said how incredible I thought it was. I've now seen it 5 more times or so, and without question it's one of the best things at The Magic Kingdom.

The only negative thing I can say about it is that while I've never really waited more than 10 minutes for it (fast pass is our friend, people, never forget it) the queue line is a little stuffy for my taste. As in the ventilation always seems a little bad. The wait seems longer than it is. There's not much to look at.

That's a very minor quibble in what is otherwise an A+ attraction. Something that every kid will love. Something that inspires the most nostalgic feelings of my youth in me.

And now... The Disney Trivia Question of the Day

Question: What is Donald's Boat in Toontown called?

If you think you know, please send an e-mail to blog@beefymuchacho.com

Everyone with the correct answer will receive a point. An incorrect answer gets 1/2 a point. The person with the most points will get a Limted Edition Pin purchased during my stay.

Standings are being updated daily at http://www.beefymuchacho.com/ on the "Contests" page.

I'll repost the questions with the answers at the end of the contest.

27 Days to Disney: The Carousel of Progress

I'm going to let you all in on a secret...

Walt Disney is my hero.

Shocked to hear it, I'm sure. One of the reasons I admire Walt so much is that he was always ahead of his time. His vision was never focused on the present, but rather on moving forward. In fact, my favorite quote of his goes like this:

"We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we're curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths. "

It's inspirational, hopeful. Exactly the traits I most attribute to Walt. That childlike curiosity that allows new doors to be opened. New paths to explore. It's what led Walt to create Snow White. To create the Mickey Mouse Club. To create Disneyland (and Walt Disney World). New terrain with which to try new things.

Of all of Walt's visions of the future; Tomorrowland, E.P.C.O.T., Etc... the one closest to my heart is The Carousel of Progress.

It was originally featured at the 1964 World's Fair (where It's a Small World also started it's unholy reign of terror), and it shows a "typical" American family learning about new technologies throughout the decades, with vignettes in 1900, 1920, 1940, and the FUTURE! It has been updated several times, but the general idea remains the same. It featured advanced audioanimatronics and a song by the Sherman Brothers, who also brought us the music for The Tiki Room, It's a Small World (!), Journey into Imagination, and others (not to mention about a million movie scores, including Mary Poppins and The Jungle Book.) The song they wrote for The Carousel of Progress speaks of that same look toward the future, and the promise it brings:

"There's a great big beautiful tomorrow, shining at the end of every day."

The movie "Meet the Robinsons" featured both that quote by Walt and an awesome recording of the song done by They Might Be Giants. Check it out. It's awesome.

But anyway, sometimes I get chills thinking about walking down the same streets that Walt imagined in his head. I want to go to Disneyland just to be where he was. When I want to sit in the calm, and relax, and imagine what Walt would think about today's Walt Disney World, I go to The Carousel of Progress. It makes me smile like thinking about an old friend.

And now... The Disney Trivia Question of the Day

Question: The Earful Tower, Hollywood Studios water tower landmark wears a Mickey Ears Hat. What's the Hat Size?

If you think you know, please send an e-mail to blog@beefymuchacho.com

Everyone with the correct answer will receive a point. An incorrect answer gets 1/2 a point. The person with the most points will get a Limted Edition Pin purchased during my stay.

Standings are being updated daily at http://www.beefymuchacho.com/ on the "Contests" page.

I'll repost the questions with the answers at the end of the contest.

B.U.I.

So... do you remember that one night (just the one) where you got drunk (or...whatever) and you went into the kitchen lookin' for something to snack upon, and... nothing there seemed to fulfill all of your drunken food requirements.

Sure...there were the pretzels with their salty, crunchy goodness, but they didn't hit that sweet tooth at all.

Yes... there were the leftover buffalo wings with the grease-bomb core that would be oh-so-tasty, but you just didn't think you had enough ranch and it made you cry a little.

Of course you had that bag of 2 week old circus peanuts that were certain to make the most colorful puke possible, which of course had a certain appeal, but didn't have the salt your little heart most desired.

So what did you do? You took those wings and put them on a plate. On top of them, you crumbled a bunch of those pretzels, and then you generously portioned out some of the orangest circus peanuts you ever saw right on top. Popped them in the microwave for 100 seconds, and then you chowed the fuck down. Heaven.

Until the next day, of course, when you woke up with a bloody lip and melted peanut remnants on your shirt, and a penis drawn on your face in that ranch you found later in the last place you expected it to be (the refrigerator). That's when your Circus Chicken Nacho Extravaganza (you named the dish and made up a song even, that you can't remember now), doesn't seem like such a good idea. When you can't stand up straight because your stomach is exploding from deep within... you know your drunken experimentations were unwise. And you curse your friends for taking those pictures where you're performing lewd acts on the arm of a chair in your grandparent's basement.

So anyway, that's what happened with my latest Beefy Muchacho Baking Adventure. Except I wasn't drunk. The pie crust was. I was B.U.I.; Baking Under the Influence. And despite my lack of any actual alcohol consumption, I feel that my vodka laden dough was leading me down a dangerous path... Allow me to take you back to the beginning... two weeks ago...

You'll recall I made my second pie in as many weeks, the Mexican Pecan Fiesta Pie (The name keeps getting bigger, doesn't it?), and I vowed to make my own pie crust the next time. I felt like a pretender. A fraud. A glorified Stir-er. So, my aunt, an excellent (near legendary, really) baker sent me a pie crust recipe....

A Vodka Pie Crust.

That's right. A pie crust with vodka in it. Sounds delightful doesn't it? I don't know either, but she claimed that you can't taste the vodka at all, and it merely inhibits the formation of gluten (or some such) and that it makes a more tender crust.

Apparently the vodka also makes me fucking crazy. I went in search of a pie recipe. I wanted to do something simple, because if it was really crazy it would possibly make the crust evaluation more difficult. I found in The Book an apple pie recipe that seemed simple enough, so I headed off to the store with a short list of ingredients (I also made chili, but that's not particularly noteworthy...though I will say that bacon is an interesting addition).

Needless to say, by the time I'd left the store, my plans had grown a bit more complex, and I'm blaming the booze.

Here be the Mise en Place: You'll note a thing or two not typically included in an apple pie recipe. Yep... those are craisins. Yep...that's extra sharp cheddar cheese. Now...don't get me wrong. I'm not in any way equating putting orange circus peanuts on a hot wing with adding craisins or cheese to an apple pie. In fact, I've had an Apple and Cheddar cheese pie before. And really, how much could throwing in some gloried raisins fuck things up? So...maybe it's not that big a deal. Of course, I'm constantly reminded of how delicate a balance you strike while baking.

For example, last weekend, for a party, I baked Lemon Bars. (I know..what's with all the baking Muchacho?). Me being me, I couldn't leave well enough alone, so I added raspberries. I also added about 2 tablespoons more lemon juice than it calls for, because what can I say... I like tart foods. So anyway, it seems that the additional liquid, even what little additional liquid there was, prevented the lemony goodness from setting up quite right, so they were way more gooey than I like in a bar. They were tasty, but gooey.

Anyway, so my point is... I was playing with measurements on things that don't have them. More on that later...

The crust...

I have to admit...this whole crust making process perplexed me. Maybe it's just my tentativeness in doing new things, but little variations throw me (like..the recipe makes several mentions of a food processor, which I didn't have). I used a pastry thingy (likely not it's actual name) to mix the butter, flour, shortening, and sugar. Then I mixed in the water and vodka (ice cold...and by the way, the giant bottle of vodka from the picture was the final remnants of a party from months ago. Someone wanted me to make sure that I mentioned it wasn't just like..the house vodka for the week or something.) The other thing with the recipe is that there are certain descriptors that are completely subjective.... like... what is "tacky" to one may be not "tacky" to another.

My usual guide, the beautiful Tofu Muchacha (pictured here in her costume for the production of Romeo and Juliet we're performing in starting Friday) was super, super busy, so I couldn't have her come into the kitchen every 10 seconds when I started whining about it not being tacky or too crumbly or whatever. It was a truly terrifying experience...

So basically, I was a rudderless baker, playing with drunken dough. I managed to get them balled up and into plastic wrap, where I was instructed to let them cool (like a drunk tank) for 45 minutes or so... I took that time to peel me some apples. My hand is still cramping, since I decided to be a tough guy and peel them all fancy with a paring knife instead of using a peeler. This was a poor, and time consuming choice. Let me tell you. Also, as you'll probably come to find out, I am absolutely terrible at guessing how much of something or other makes a cup. I did it with the peaches before, and I did it with the pie now. My GOD Muchacho! What kind of crazy, giant pie are you making? So... I actually timed it pretty well, because by the time I was done slicing the apples and concocting the rest of the melange of filling (Including cinnamon, nutmeg, sugar, and lemon juice), the crust had cooled well enough.

This "melange" or "slurry" is where my concern about fucking with ratios and whatnot comes in. I eyeballed about a cup of that sharp cheddar cheese and about a "handful" of craisins. The most scientific measurements possible, basically. You know those weights they (THE GOVERNMENT!!) have locked up that are like the official Gram and the official Ounce? Well... my fist should be locked up too. How do you measure "grate cheese until you're tired of grating cheese" or "an eyeballed amount of craisins"?

Anyway, I mixed those things in too. Here's where it gets a little hairy... Not literally. That would be gross. Did I mention I'd never made a pie crust before? I didn't really know anything about rolling that fucker out. I am kind of taken aback by the total lack of science behind rolling the dough, since there's so MUCH science in creating it. Like... when they suggest liberally applying flour to the rolling pin and board, what does that mean, exactly? I'll tell you what it means. It means liberally, because that dough stuck to just about everything unless I added flour. A lot of it. Of course, this made me paranoid about adding too much flour and thus making it tough or something. I honestly had no idea what it would do, but it just doesn't seem appealing. The Tofu Muchacha has a really handy pastry board that has pre-fab circles on it corresponding with different sizes of pie and crust and whatnot, so I had a nice circular guide. I'll say this... were it not for that, I would have been completely and totally lost, instead of merely lost.

This was my best attempt at getting the crust into the pie plate. I will say that I was pleased that the crust didn't tear or crack in the putting it in. It lifted well and didn't stick. I'll also say that there were parts that were entirely too thin, and conversely other parts that were too thick. It was strangely shaped too. Things to work on the next time, I suppose. I wasn't altogether pleased, but it could have certainly been worse. I'll call this "The Blind Squirrel Correlary".

After that, I piled in all of that delicious topping, I rolled out another dough ball to cover everything, and I sealed and pinched away. I even cut some dainty slits in the top.

Here's where my total inexperience in pie dough rolling shows the most. I didn't give myself enough "lip" on the lower later to sufficiently pinch in all of the places, and there were other places where there's a veritable log of pinched crust. It makes for an ugly pie, for one. It also seems that it could potentially make for uneven baking.

Anyway, I popped it in to the oven at 425 for _____ minutes. I say that, because I set the timer for 45 minutes, but then forgot to start it. Thankfully I take a ton of pictures, and the camera has time stamps, so I had at least some idea of when I'd taken the covered pie picture above. I think I lucked out, overall. It maybe baked for 47 minutes, but that could have been disastrous.

Here's the completed pie: I have to say... really doesn't look to bad, does it? The crust, not being even made for some difficult and messy cutting, but aside from that it looked pretty good.

As for the taste? It tasted like an apple pie with a little too much nutmeg (I'd mis-read the recipe and basically used a quarter teaspoon instead of an eighth.) The cheese didn't add a ton to it, aside from a nice rich aroma layer. The craisins were good, but I could have used more.

The crust, however, was really pretty tasty. Again..there was some uneven baking due to the inconsistent thickness, but I'd definitely call it a success for my first time out. I'd eat it again. I'd eat another piece.

So... Successes, Failures, and Things I'd Do Differently:

Successes:
- I'd have to say that the crust was pretty good for a first attempt.
- The apples were nice and tart. I like a tart pie.
- I liked the subtext of the cheese...it was at least a good idea.

Failures:
-Too much nutmeg.
- Uneven and poorly pinched pie dough.

Things I'd Do Differently:
- I'd slice the apples waaaaayyyy thiner. First, they didn't all bake enough, so they had too crunchy a texture in some places. Also, I think they'd be easier to lay in the pie if they were smaller.
- I'd use a stronger cheese, or more cheese or something. As it is, it just sort of strikes me as a throw-away gimmicky thing. Doesn't do much for me one way or the other. Knowing how much I like to mix sweet and spicy, I'm sort of toying with like a hot pepper cheddar. Or something like that. We'll see... that may be too much.
- I'd use more craisins. Probably double what I did use.

All in all a success.

Coming up are my Countdown to Disney Blogs, plus the start of my Disney Trivia Contest. Stay tuned!

The Perfect Game

"There's nothing wrong with a one-hitter, there, Barbie. In fact, it's miraculous. And I won't have you of all people cheapen what should be an endless pursuit of perfection just because you want the world to laugh with you tonight."
-- Dr. Cox, Season 1 Episode 12 of Scrubs "My Blind Date"

Baseball is my favorite sport. I've been told lately that I toss around the word "Favorite" a lot, but baseball really truly is my favorite. Has been since I was but a tot. For some reason it's always spoken to me on a deeper level than any other sports.

There are a lot of reasons... I'm hopelessly sentimental, and I have dozens of warm memories from my childhood that revolve around baseball. I love arguing, and there's no better sport to debate (Barry Larkin vs. Greg Maddux for 1995 MVP... GO!). I love history, and what sport has a richer, more colorful history than baseball?

Those are all big reasons for me... but maybe the biggest correlates to this gut feeling that baseball just makes sense on a cosmic level. I've stated, probably entirely unoriginally, that I believe baseball is a beautiful allegory for life in microcosm. I was discussing this recently with the Decidedly-UnBeefy Muchacha (I'm working on a cooler nickname for her), and she suggested that I get it down on pixel here in the blog. So here it is...

Baseball as Life.

Despite the claims to the contrary, life IS fair.
Everyone says that life's not fair, but I totally disagree. Life often sucks. Life is rarely balanced. When you look at life's individual moments, many of them are unfair. However, when you look at life as a whole... the WHOLE fucking thing, it all pans out exactly the way it should. I'm not saying that it's always good, because, let's be honest here... people often equate "fair" and "good for them", and that's just wrong, but it's exactly how things SHOULD be. Same with baseball. It's not a sprint, but a marathon. You NEVER see a team win the World Series without earning it. I'll use this year as an example... The Kansas City Royals and The Florida Marlins both started the season super hot. We're now about 60 games into the season and they are both currently in 4th place in their respective divisions... There are no pretenders in baseball... Sure you'll occasionally get a really weak division where a bad team makes the playoffs, but you don't see them winning.
The overall point is that Life is long like a 162 game baseball season. There are peaks and valleys, streaks and slumps... but in the end you always end up right where you should.

Everybody gets the same chance.
I said it. I know that on the surface this seems patently false. People are born in slums or mansions. People have phyisical advantages. People have genetic advantages. That's all true, and that's not at all what I'm talking about. On a spiritual level we're all given the same chance to be a good person. To make smart choices. To be upstanding. That's a pretty twee things to say... I know. I acknowledge that everyone has different obstacles in their way. I would contend, though, that everyone HAS obstacles. In baseball, these same issues arrise. Each team has the same number of innings. The same number of outs. Each batter has the same number of strikes and balls. And as with life, there are obstacles. A home team bats second. Certain ball parks are better suited to different styles of play. Some players are naturally better than others. The more important factor, though, is that every game is played by the same defined standards. It doesn't end in a tie (except for one dumb All Star game). I know if I'm going to the ball park, I'm gonna see 9 Innings. Every time.

Everyone has a style.
Earl Weaver, famous baseball manager, is associated with the game style philosophy of "Pitching, Defense, and the Three Run Homer". On the other hand Whitey Herzog won a World Series without a real power hitter (sorry Keith Hernandez fans) playing nothing but small ball. The point is, there are more ways to win than there are stars in the sky. Just like life. Some people toil and chip away and work every day of their life. Hitting singles and doubles and taking their walks and stolen bases. This works for them...they end up with a lot of successes based on small movements. Other people build up for the big score (the home run). They put all of their eggs in one basket and sometimes it works out, and when it does it's HUGE. Sometimes it doesn't, and they have nothing to fall back on.

The quote I listed at the top of this entry is from one of the best episodes of the first season of Scrubs... Dr. Cox has 27 patients on his watch, and he's trying to get through the whole night without one of them dying (likening it to a perfect game in baseball). He makes it to the very end of the shift... five minutes to go, and one does. Elliott, trying to help, wants him to just wait 5 minutes before calling the death, and he shoots her down using the beautiful words above.

For me, it more than anything, perfectly sums up why I love baseball, and why baseball and life are one and the same.

You always, in life as well as baseball, aim for the absolute top. Batting .400... Pitching a perfect game...Whatever personal achievement that equates in your life. And rarely will you achieve those goals. Only one guy in the last 70 years has hit .400. Only 17 perfect games have been thrown in Major League history. If you measure success in such black and white terms... "I'm only a success if I can purchase my own jet." You're going to be pretty miserable. However, if you can look at the little successes.... Turning a beautiful double play or lining a double into the gap. Throwing a one hitter.... Those are small things that contain trememdous beauty. If you can savor the minor successes, you're going to be happy. Life will be fair and balanced. Maybe not always good, but fair.