Thanksgiving is in just a few more days. The house should be filled soon with wonderful aromas of special baking. Cinnamon and pumpkin and nutmeg, toasted pecans, vanilla and cream.

So what’s going on at my house? I decided the oven really needed cleaning, so I locked the oven door and turned the knob to “clean”. It didn’t take long for the house to fill with the horrible odor of incinerated food from things I’d spilled over the past few months. I’m definitely a sloppy cook and think that self cleaning ovens are one of the great inventions of our times. Waking to snow on the ground and cold temperatures meant I couldn’t really open up the windows, so we were stuck with the smell.

As long as I was at it, I thought I might as well do things up good. So I got busy with “refreshing my hair color” and the house additionally smells like ammonia or whatever they put in that stuff.

Welcome to my house – don’t breathe in deeply.

It’s that time of year, when cook’s (frequent and infrequent) have their thoughts turn to turkey, or how to cook the Thanksgiving centerpiece.

Organic/ fresh/ free range/ frozen/ Butterball. Brined/ deep fried (and burning up the garage in the process)/ roasted (low heat or high)/ traditional herbs/ ethnic.

Every year I read lots of cooking columns and magazine articles. Sometimes I even try something new. Usually I end up mixing some traditional herb mixture with butter and rubbing it under the skin, then roasting it in the oven for several hours.

Have you notice how it’s always done sooner than anticipated? I remember stories about turkeys going into the oven in the early morning and baking for many hours. Now, I plan on eating at a certain time and the surprise is always that the turkey is done way before intended. Each year it continues to mess up my nicely planned schedule.

So, think about it. We love the company that Thanksgiving brings. All the good food. But is the turkey ever what anyone really remembers most?

I say – make sure you have enough gravy and all will be well!

I was reading the latest copy of “Grow“. the alumni magazine from the University of Wisconsin College of Agriculture and LIfe Sciences (CALS). I don’t think I had a clue 35 years ago why I was in that college, but it’s become clear over the years that the life sciences fascinate me. One article in the recent edition in particular caught my eye. The current dean of the college has done considerable research on the genetics of beets and their nutritional benefits. He’s known as “the beet guy”.

I like beets. No, I love beets. The article was titled “Five things everyone should know about beets”. It talked about how beets role in history is very underappreciated, that today’s beets are not your grandmother’s beets, and that “they actually don’t taste like dirt”. Hmm. I never thought they did. But I guess that they do contain an organic compound that gives them an earthy flavor. The compound is called geosmin. It gives off a smell like a field after a rainstorm or freshly smelled earth. Human noses are very sensitive to it, and while some people don’t like it, others love it. All of a sudden things clicked for me. We have a refrigerator in the lab at work that contains a lots of reference standards. And a few people complain very loudly about how much it stinks when it’s opened. It’s the geosmin that they are smelling. And I always wondered why they found the smell so horrible when I didn’t mind it at all. SO now I know. It’s also why I like beets. And spinach and lettuce and mushrooms.

Huurah for science and helping sort these things out. (and providing absoutely useless information for most everyone else).

My mother recently alerted me that Michael Pollan’s book The Botany of Desire has been made into a PBS show.

I had recommended the book to her at some point in the past (after my daughter had recommended it to me some years ago), and I guess she actually paid some attention to what I had told her. Really, I think she is good about listening to all her kids and friends and remembering the things they tell her. It’s definitely a strong point of hers.

While I don’t have tv reception since we live in a canyon and I’m too cheap to pay for cable service now that the kids have all grown up and moved away, I have discovered that you can view many tv shows through internet connections. I have my laptop hooked up to my tv screen and am able to pull in all kind of shows.

So, we spent the past few nights watching the PBS show. I work in the apple industry, so was particularly interested in the segment on apples. It was titled “Sweetness: The Taste of Apples” and got me thinking about what I do for a living. Hmm. Basically, if you agree with Pollan’s view that the evolutionary success of the apple is a result of its ability to satisfy the human desire for sweetness, I guess my true boss is the apple, not Tree Top. Watch the PBS video – it’s pretty interesting, in my view.

12 Brix. It’s the name of my blog. And specifically refers to the sweetness of apples – on the average, 12% sugar, or 12 Brix. There you go.

(a test for observant readers — find the connection between this blog entry and food)

November 3rd. 2009. My older daughter, Carrie, turned 30 yesterday. I think your 30’s are a great decade. But it makes me feel old to have a child who has turned 30. As does my annual exam, which happened today.

My regular doctor was booked up through the end of the year, so I decided to see a physician’s assistant who had an opening in her schedule. I liked her and was pleased with her examination style.

Except when she got to my family medical history. She was reviewing my children’s medical history and commented about my younger child ” Your daughter really was born in 1984?”. What response is there to that kind of a question? “No, I lied on my medical records”. “Oh my gosh. 1984? There really were babies born that year?” Well, or course I said “yes”. And added that we’d also had a 1984 party that year (before Erin’s birth, totally unrelated). The PA seemed to find this very interesting. It’s been years since anyone even seemed to connect that long ago, back when I was in junior high school, 1984 had a kind of mythical ring to it. It was far away in the future, made famous by George Orwell, and would never come.

But it did. And so did the rest of the exam, including questions like “do you experience moodiness with your menstrual cycle?” Made me want to jump off the examining table shouting “Moodiness? You want to know about moodiness? Well, I can tell you all about it!!” Instead I quietly acknowledged that “yes, I do sometimes fly off the handle”. The PA found that phrase amusing and as she was describing with her hands the imagery it created for her she almost dropped her laptop to the floor as she didn’t open the little shelf in her desk enough for it to rest completely flat.

Really a nice appointment overall. I wish my niece luck in her dreams of pursuing a career as a physician’s assistant, and also wish her luck in not having too many patients like me.

Oh, part of the obligatory “lecture” included “no one gets enough fiber in their diet. You should try to get 25 to 30 grams a day”. My response – internally – was “Ha! You don’t know who you are talking to. I’m a nutritionist, and I know all about fiber, and calcium and all those other nutrients” And honestly, I really do get enough fiber.” But again, I just quietly said “yes”.

A quiet yes. That pretty much sums it up.

I recently had a business trip to Oregon. Our first stop was Salem, the state capitol. I was visiting a pear cannery but got to town early enough to visit the capitol building. It has a very pretty rotunda and an intriguing golden lumberjack gracing the outdoors top of the rotunda. I’ve never seen a similar top on a capitol.

After visiting the pear cannery, which was housed in an ancient looking building and even has a building that is listed on the National Registry of Historical Buildings, we drove back to Portland. I had made reservations at a McMenamins lodging called the Kennedy School. Originally an elementary school built in the early 1900’s and taken out of use in the ’70s, the building has been turned into a site with guestrooms/ restaurant/ bars/brewery/meeting rooms/ theater and performance center.

The guestrooms used to be classrooms, and still have the old chalkboards on the wall. We stayed in Miss Kinney’s room:

The room had high ceilings, lots of chalkboards, and a comfortable bed. Of course, I had to write my name on the chalkboard as soon as we arrived.

The hallways were wide and covered with original artwork and historical photographs. We had dinner and breakfast at the restaurant (which used to be the cafeteria although I couldn’t see many signs remaining of its former life except the tall windows looking into an enclosed courtyard).

I especially enjoyed the soaking pool, with relaxation stops both in the evening and the following morning.

After dinner, we spent a while in the former gym, listening to live music, then ambled down to the theater, where we munched on popcorn and lounged on large sofas while watching a movie. The movie, District 9, a fantasy film, wasn’t very good in my view, so we didn’t stay for all of it, but it was still fun to be able to leave the theater and just walk down the school hallway back to our room. No need to leave the building, except it was in a quiet residential neighborhood and was a good area for walking. All in all, a great place to spend the night.

Yesterday the skies looked clear and I was in the mood for some mountain adventures. My day was free of any scheduled events, and I wanted to head off to Mount Rainier National Park. Not the National Forests, much as I normally love them, as it’s the start of deer season and hiking, in my view, just isn’t compatible with hunting. Multiple use land management philosophy once again falls apart.

In past years, when we had a dog that prevented us from hiking in the National Parks, I’d find myself on mountain trails in glorious fall weather and realize that the others on the trails were in hunting garb carrying guns. I worried enough about someone thinking my dog (a very furry white American Eskimo) was a mountain goat and shooting her that I clothed her in an bright orange dog vest. I also worried that Dave or I would get shot. Now that we don’t have a dog anymore, we can once again hike in the National Parks, so that’s where I choose to head at this time of year. We headed out yesterday morning prepared for cold weather. I admit also to being a gawker/ rubbernecker and wanted to see the site of the landslide that recently closed off a state highway. The temporary detour is now open to the public so that’s the route we took up to Mount Rainier. We didn’t see the landslide as the detour took us out of view of the highway at that spot, but it was a pretty drive with colors changing and blue skies. Or, blue skies just until we reached Chinook Pass, and a cloud of winter weather engulfed the area. We stopped at the parking lot to use the restroom and ponder our next steps. Our trail of first choice looked like it had a new layer of snow on it. Some other hikers were venturing out in winter wear, but there was a ferociously cold wind and treacherous footing, not what I savor for safe hiking. So we decided to head on further.

As I headed down the other side of the pass into the park, on one of my least favorite mountain roads with hairpin turn after hairpin turn, the forest was a winter wonderland. Very pretty, but not what I really wanted yet. So we continued to drive, heading to the southeastern portion of the park. That’s the land of rain forests and large, old growth trees. And also temperatures at least 25 degrees warmer than at the pass! So we chose a lowland forest hike, leading us past the roaring waterfall of Silver Falls and into the Grove of the Patriachs. This photo isn’t mine, as I neglected to pack the camera for the hike but gives a good idea of what the area looks like.

I like the description of the hike on one of the park service web pages. “This is, perhaps, one of the most memorable hikes in Mount Rainier National Park because it’s like entering a magical kingdom. This is rare, even in a region with so many really big trees. Think about it. Doesn’t “the grove of the patriarchs” have that special ring to it? Like a Tolkien ring? You’ll walk through a forest of old growth trees, some a thousand years old, onto an island in the middle of the Ohanapecosh River. Better than some new world created for a virtual reality game, it’s all there for you to enjoy again and again.”

As we hiked, I was reminded of our family calendar from a few years ago (November 2003) that includes a photo of Dave , Kristin, Neil and Carrie circling the front part of one of the large trees in the Grove of the Patriachs.

Along with giant trees, we also enjoyed seeing lots of fall mushrooms, including a purple translucent looking one like I’ve never seen before. I especially liked the minature orange pixie caps, all just waiting for the forest pixies to come out cap shopping.

I LOVE to bake. Cookies. Pies. Bread. But I haven’t done hardly any baking for many months. My midsection had outgrew my clothes, and I needed drastic measures. So, I quit baking. Week after week, I stuck to my resolve to lose weight. And gradually, very slowly, it has been coming off. But the urge to bake hasn’t gone away. So I decided a few nights ago to make up a pan of cinnamon rolls to bring to work. That way I get to bake, but don’t have a dozen cinnamon rolls to tempt Dave and me to indulge too freely. The rolls are ones I’ve made dozens of times. I use a bread machine, and they are easy for me to make the night before, refrigerate, then bake in the morning. I consider them my “signature” baked goods, what I make over and over again and that people have come to expect (or at least, hope for) from me. I think with pleasure of what I consider other people’s “signature” recipes – my mother’s almond kringles, my sister’s Amish potato rolls. But these pecan cinnamon rolls are mine.

It’s a recipe I clipped from a Better Homes and Garden magazine years ago (decades ago, really). I’ve revised it to use a bread machine, but you can make them the “old fashioned” way if you’d like. Also, the original recipe was named “raisin-pecan cinnamon rolls”. I don’t like raisins cooked into anything, so I leave them out!

Pecan Cinnamon Rolls

4 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 1/4 tsp instant yeast
1 cup milk
1/3 cup butter, softened
1/3 cup sugar
1/2 tsp salt
3 eggs

In bread machine, add all ingredients. Program machine for dough setting – press start and come back in an hour and half or so. Take dough out of bread machine, punch down and turn out onto lightly floured surface. Cover and let rest 10 minutes. While dough is resting, prepare filling:

3/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup flour
1 Tbsp ground cinnamon
1/2 cup butter
1/2 cup chopped pecans

Combine all filling ingredients, cutting in butter till crumbly.

Roll the dough into a 12 inch square. Sprinkle filling over dough square; top with pecans. Roll up jelly roll style; pinch edges to seal. Slice roll into 12 one-inch pieces. Arrange dough slices in a greased 9 by 13 inch baking pan. Cover dough loosely with clear plastic wrap, leaving room for rolls to rise. Refrigerator for 2 to 24 hours. Uncover. Let stand at room temperature for 30 to 60 minutes (or until nearly doubled in size – it sometimes takes longer for mine to finish raising). (or, for immediate baking, don’t chill dough but let rise in a warm place until nearly double, about 45 minutes). Bake in 375 F oven for 25 to 30 minutes or until light brown. If necessary to prevent overbrowning, cover rolls loosely with aluminum foil for the last 5 to 10 minutes of baking. Remove rolls from overn. Cool for 1 minute. Invert onto wire rack. Cool slightly. Invert again onto serving platter and drizzle with Powdered Sugar Glaze: Stir together 1 1/4 cups powdered sugar, 1 tsp corn syrup, 1/2 tsp vanilla and enough half and half or light cream (or milk) to make of drizzling consistency.

Serve warm and make new friends.

So yesterday morning I brought the refrigerated pan of cinnamon rolls into work, let the rolls raise, and then baked them in the lunchroom of my building. Mmmm. Love that smell of baking bread, especially when cinnamon is included. And I kind of like how it seems to drive a lot of people kind of crazy – smelling bread baking but not knowing what’s going on.

When they were ready I let my department (of sorts) know they were ready, and some of the quality assurance folks and engineers sat down with me to enjoy them. So nice to hear how much they love them. And almost even funnier to notice the Director of Information Services poking into the lunchroom multiple times, kind of hovering around. But I didn’t invite him to join us. Am I mean or what???

I’m not quite sure…. I like sharing. I like baking. But I also like to choose my “guests”.

All readers of my blog – this invitation goes out to you. Be my guest and join me for some fresh from the oven baked goods. Please!

You’re a Superstar!  That’s what the invitation read.   The company I work for ended it’s fiscal year recently, and it was a successful year financially.  Which is why, I guess, our raises this year will be very small, as they were set to match what the average raise has been in our industry in this tough financial recessionary year.  (I really have to suppose that if the overall industry had huge raises, but we’d done poorly financially, we still would have gotten small raises.  Always find a way to work things to the company’s advantage.  oh well).   But, overlook all that, as all the corporate employees got invited to a special lunch.  The invitation clearly told us so.    Come to the Selah Civic Center and celebrate!   So we showed up.  And there really was a red carpet to walk down to enter the room.  And very entertaining posters from various movies, but with our president and vice presidents faces taking the place of the movie stars.  Tree Top’s CEO as Clint Eastwood, the VP of field services as Johnny Cash in “Walk the Line”, the VP of sales and marketing starring in Braveheart, the VP of operations in Transformers.  Etc. etc.

But I thought they said “we” were the superstars, the average employees?   Where we our photos on movie posters?   I guess I misinterpreted that part.  But “what the hey”.  It’s a catered lunch.  That should provide some memorable treats.  So we all formed a long line, wondering just what we would be served.  And most of us were quite surprised to find it was —  Hot Dogs!   Wait.  Did I get something wrong here?  A big celebratory catered luncheon, and hot dogs (or chili dogs, if you added the available chili) for the main course?   With little bags of potato chips?

Yup!   I hope that the executive committee from Tree Top isn’t reading this blog.  No, I take that back.  I hope they do.   It just didn’t leave me with warm, fuzzy feelings.   Can we try again next year?

Back to work!

Empty Bowls. I first learned about this grassroots effort to end hunger through my sister-in-law. She has been working quietly and steadily to help with their Milwaukee event.

What a great idea. Artists making ceramic bowls, chefs and bakers filling them with all sorts of delicious soups and breads, and community members giving from their pocketbooks to help local organizations that fight hunger while enjoying a warm, satisfying meal and taking home a piece of art. I looked online and hoped to find a local event for where I live. The closest I could find is in Seattle.  I had hoped to find something closer.   Hmm… who should I be networking with to start something like this locally?