My mom was awesome

If you haven't yet checked out My Parents Were Awesome, do it now! It's full of pictures like the one above, in which my mom proves that she was totally awesome with some unknown biker dude. Maybe I should submit it to the official site.

Dr. Dad

Today I finally got the referral to see an orthopedist about my broken hand; it's likely I will have to wear a cast of some kind for four to six weeks. Ah, the inconvenience of it all, especially heading into the holidays! It's hard to knead bread with only one hand.

All week long I've been missing my dad especially hard. Dad was an orthopedic surgeon (that's him in action on the left, above), and if he were around my week would have gone differently. He would have driven me to his office in the middle of the night, taken and developed the x-ray himself, confirmed the fracture, and put the cast on himself. The whole thing would have taken an hour or so, not this week-plus ordeal it has turned into.

Dad loved being a surgeon; he really enjoyed operating. He had originally planned on becoming a general practitioner, but he fell in love with orthopedics when he hit that part of his residency rotation. It took him an extra year (or was it semester?) in med school to learn his chosen specialty, but he felt it was worth the extra time. He specialized in clubfoot, which seems like a fairly rare condition, but he had a steady stream of patients, nearly all of them under a year old. He would put tiny plaster casts on their chubby little legs to correct the bone deformities, and most of those kids never needed surgery thanks to his careful ministrations. I remember asking him once if there was a particular kind of surgery he disliked, thinking he'd tell me about some boring, tedious procedure, perhaps one that kept him on his feet for hours at a time; he said the only kind of surgery he didn't like was performing amputations, because they made him sad.

I miss you something fierce, Dad.

Thank god the World Series is over . . . .

. . . . and we can get back to quality programming!

Best wedding gift EVER!

When my co-worker Helen got married, her uncle, a doctor, gave her a year's worth of birth control pills.

Book of the week

Oh, I could drink
a case of you
and then pass out
in my own vomit.
When the EMTs arrive
to pump my stomach,
I'll still be slurring
your name.
Oh, I'll still be slurring
your name.

~ Pamela August Russell

The author "lives in Los Angeles near the freeway."

Casts & cookies

This is what I look like in my splint, only not so tiny and adorable. Tomorrow I should be getting my referral to see an orthopedist.

This is what I really want to write about today. All Cakes Considered is a great new cookbook from the good folks at NPR's All Things Considered. So far I've tried two of the recipes: ATF Gingerbread (so-named because it contains very little sugar but is loaded with good-sized chunks of spicy crystallized ginger) with a luscious ginger-and-cream-cheese frosting, and Salty Oatmeal Cookies.

A year-and-a-half ago, everyone seemed to be buzzing about the salty chocolate chip cookie recipe that appeared in the New York Times. My pal Norman sent me a link to the article when it first appeared, along with a strong hint that if I wanted our friendship to survive, I had best make these cookies pronto. I was intrigued by the two major differences between this and every other chocolate chip cookie recipe I'd ever seen: first, that the dough should rest, covered, in the refrigerator for up to 72 hours before being baked, and second, that the cookies should be sprinkled with sea salt just before they go in the oven. When I made them, I understood why these two steps were vital to the cookies' success. The resting period allowed the "wet" ingredients (the butter and the eggs) to completely permeate the dough, giving the finished cookie the perfect blend of textures: crispy around the edge, chewier towards the middle, and soft in the center. And the salt beautifully balanced the rich semi-sweetness of the dark chocolate discs. Everyone who ate them remarked how incredibly good they were (well, everyone except my sister Mary -- feh!), and they all singled out the salt as the defining ingredient. So when I came across Melissa Gray's recipe for Salty Oatmeal Cookies, I thought I'd better give them a try, especially as oatmeal cookies are Sean's favorite.

Here is her recipe from All Cakes Considered. The one major change I made was that I let the dough sit for about six hours instead of the recommended "at least one." All other changes are noted parenthetically below.

SALTY OATMEAL COOKIES
makes about 2 dozen

3 tbsp unsalted butter
3 cups old-fashioned rolled oats (not quick-cooking)
3/4 cup butter-flavor Crisco shortening (surprisingly not easy to find)
1 cup light brown sugar
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
2 large eggs
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp coconut extract (I used imitation coconut flavor to no ill effect)
1 3/4 cups rice flour (had to go to Whole Foods for this)
Kosher salt, for sprinkling (I used Maldon sea salt)

1. In a medium saucepan, melt the butter. Remove from the heat and stir in the oats. Set aside.

2. With the mixer, beat the shortening on medium-high speed until light and fluffy. Scrape down the sides of the bowl and add the sugars gradually, beating until mixed.

3. In a separate bowl, dry whisk the baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon together. Add to the creamed mixture and beat until incorporated.

4. Add the eggs, vanilla extract, and coconut extract, beating until blended.

5. Reduce the mixer speed to low and add the oatmeal and the rice flour, scraping down the sides of the bowl and beating until just incorporated. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap (I actually took the dough out of the bowl and wrapped it up tightly in plastic wrap) and refrigerate the dough for at least 1 hour.

6. About 15 minutes before you're ready to bake, center a rack and preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Cut out parchment paper to fit the cookie sheets.

7. Form the dough into balls the size of a golf ball and place on the baking sheets about two inches apart. Flatten the balls slightly (I used the bottom of a glass) and sprinkle generously with kosher salt.

8. Bake one sheet of cookies at a time (huh? 2 at a time worked fine for me) for 15 minutes, or until the cookies are puffed and starting to turn golden brown.

9. With a spatula, transfer the cookies to a cooling rack. (The cookies are extremely soft at this point, so I recommend dragging them on the parchment paper onto the cooling rack and letting them sit for about 10 miutes before removing them with the spatula.)

These cookies are insanely good, especially with a glass of milk or cup of coffee. I'm sorry to say I didn't get a photo of them before they disappeared, but at least I now have a new recipe in my holiday cookie arsenal. Melissa Gray's ATF Gingerbread is also very tasty, very grown-up, and I can't wait to try her recipe for Dark Chocolate Red Velvet Cake.

Hey, it's National Blog Posting Month!

It's NaBloPoMo, and it's a fine time of year to break my hand. I thought I had a broken finger, but this morning I took a look at the discharge form the Urgent Care doctor sent home with me, and it definitely says "hand fracture." Specifically, it's a "boxer's fracture," which sounds angry and dynamic; sadly, I did it not by punching a wall, but when a lightweight piece of metal scaffolding Sean and I were setting up slammed down onto the side of my hand. How mundane.

All of this is to say, my posts for the first few days may be brief, as I am typing this almost entirely with my right index finger. My hunt-and-peck method is pretty dependent on three of the fingers on my left hand, and they're out of commission for the foreseeable future. I hope to be visiting an orthopedist sometime this week, and my posting should pick up speed after that.

(That, by the way, is not my hand in the x-ray, so don't go holding it up to the light looking for the break. In case you're interested, my fracture is in the fifth metacarpal -- my poor little pinkie. When I have more energy, maybe I'll tell you how the doctor had to manipulate the displacement back into alignment.)