25 July 2010

Complicated Tasks

It was over 100 degrees in DC this weekend, so I was obviously delirious when I decided to make Michoacan-style Paletas. My kitchen is pristine and unused, like an IKEA showroom, and I like it that way. But English Mum practically goaded me into this. She makes complicated tasks like raising chickens and boys look easy and fun. In hindsight, I should have known better. You should never make something yourself that you can just pay someone else for. If you happen to not live near a Paleteria, though, here are some basic instructions.


First, just because your new cute popsicle molds say dishwasher safe on the package does not mean they really are. They could disintegrate. Hypothetically.




Once you're done exposing yourself to poisonous melted-plastic gases, cut up some fresh fruit. Or, since you've been through enough already, do what I did and use pre-sliced fruit from Whole Foods.










Next, put the fruit in a blender with whatever juice you like. For paletas de leche, add sweetened condensed milk or cream. I made two kinds: mango with chile and strawberry cream with pink peppercorns.




Don't use this many peppercorns. There was an unfortunate pink peppercorn avalanche when I didn't check to see if the grinder cap was on tight, which I'll also blame on the poisonous plastic gases circulating throughout the house.


Now, fill whatever molds you didn't already melt and wait about 4 hours. Que rico. And Dios Mio.

23 August 2009

10 August 2009

Beat The Heat

4th Street NW

Apparently, opening a fire hydrant is illegal. This begs the question of how ordinary citizens manage to wrench the cap off, anyway? Half the time I can't open a mayonnaise jar.

15 April 2009

Blogging will resume

as soon as I get some free time again. Until then, just be patient come clean my house call me at work add me on Facebook.

16 March 2009

Leprechaun Kitsch

I lived in Boston for a few years back in graduate school, and on this continent at least, it's generally accepted that Boston's about as Irish as a city gets. So imagine my surprise when I visited Tiny and family in New Orleans and discovered that if any city goes all out for St. Patrick's Day, it's that one. To the truly Irish: try not to wince too much at the shiny Leprechaun kitsch that follows.

(note to self: must ask English Mum if anything like this went on in Cavan over the weekend)










17 February 2009

I'm just

very, very busy.

25 January 2009

The Difficult Thing


The difficult thing about my ongoing quest for the perfect Marriott-style bedroom is that the orange cat hair just keeps coming back.

22 January 2009

You May Not Know This Sender

Screen shot from an email in my inbox this morning:

Thank you‏
From: President Barack Obama (info@pic2009.org)
You may not know this sender. Mark as safe Mark as unsafe

I mean, we're not on a first name basis yet or anything but he seems pretty safe to me.

19 January 2009

One Big Party

My day in pictures. Since I'll be at work tomorrow, I headed down 7th Street from H all the way to Jefferson and Pennsylvania Avenue to catch some of the celebration.














18 January 2009

No Celebrity Sightings

Well there were most certainly no celebrity sightings, but we did get to network with the Red Cross and FEMA. Anyway, it's only Sunday; Oprah may still turn up.

17 January 2009

Offer Of An Air Bed

Make sure you keep an eye on CNN tomorrow. I'll be hanging out with these guys for 12 hours and angling to catch a glimpse of Bono, Oprah, anyone. Today I drove down to 3rd Street and Pennsylvania Avenue to take a few photos for those of you who didn't take me up on the offer of an air bed for the week. Leave me a comment and I might consider getting you an official souvenir...




12 January 2009

No Ball Gown


About once a year in middle school we were bused into Washington to the standard field trip venues: the Vietnam Memorial, the Smithsonian, the National Gallery, the Washington Monument.

On one especially electrifying visit the intent was to see Congress in action but Mr. Pishnick got the wrong tickets and so we were let loose in Union Station for six hours instead. I believe that was also the year no one counted properly and Morgan Travers got left behind; the rest of us were too busy chowing down on astronaut ice cream to notice.

In any event, this is shaping up to be way better than any of that. Plus, no ball gown required.

10 January 2009

I Wasn't At Ben's

Oh, man. I can't believe I wasn't at Ben's today. Look what I missed.

New New Year's resolution: eat more pork products. Then maybe I'll be in the right place at the right time, next time.

Saturday Photo


U and 12th Streets, NW. Happiest tooth ever.