A week of Christmas: the longest day
December 26, 2011
The good news is that despite what I thought would be mistimings and failed recipes, the Christmas dinner was pretty darned good after all. The bad news is that my mom and I have reached our point of more rather than less head-butting with each other. Can I just hide under a paper bag now, please? No? Okay, then I’ll sit here in bed in the dark with my iBook again. Illuminated screens in the dark are a great way to feign sleeping in order to be done with socializing.
I thought the turkey in particular turned out above average. This time I differently blasted it at 450°F for the first fifteen minutes to sear the outside and hopefully lock the moisture in, then cooked it at 400°F until the little thingy popped out, which was about an hour sooner than I was expecting. Consequently, I barely had my side dishes started before the turkey was finished. I overroasted the Brussels sprouts. The butternut squash gratin, which looked great on paper but then which seemed quite less than spectacular while putting together, ended up being everybody’s favorite part of the meal. I paired the redux of yesterday’s excellent homemade cherry pie with Odell Friek, the combination of which I had been anticipating all weekend and it didn’t disappoint. Nor did my (now) perennial favorite, Ommegang Three Philosophers, with the meal. Thanks again to Tori and Aaron for introducing me to that one a couple years ago.
But then it came to cleaning up time, and in my mother’s infinite desire to be helpful and my nearly infinite desire for her to just sit down and relax and stay out of my way, we had a major clash. I’d tell you the gory details, but I guess it wouldn’t be very becoming. Suffice it to say my mom and I are both very stubborn.
And yay, there’s a day and a half to go. Stay tuned.The weekend in cooking: three recipes
November 21, 2011
One of my joys in life is to spend the day cooking. This usually happens on Sundays as I prepare lunches and suppers for the week ahead. I confess that in the last year or two I’ve gotten a little lazy about cooking, generally because I discovered I like trying restaurants and particularly because food trucks hit the Minneapolis scene. But every time I end up cooking I remember how much I love it.
This weekend I was in overdrive. Odell Brewing had posted a recipe earlier in the week that I wanted to try for dinner. I also found an egg recipe to make for breakfasts; I’ve burned myself out on plain eggs recently so I need to dress them up currently in order to be able to consume them. Finally, I decided I wanted to make soup for lunches this short Thanksgiving week. No recipe for that.
I am copying and pasting the quinoa and egg recipes from the original sources, but editing them to reflect how I made them. I am linking to the original sources after the titles. The soup recipe I made up.
They’re all delicious!
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Brussels Sprouts & Quinoa Salad (original source here)
1 pound Brussels sprouts, trimmed and halved
Salt and pepper to taste
Olive oil
1 tablespoon honey
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1 clove garlic, minced
1 cup quinoa
2 cups water
1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees.
2. Toss Brussels sprouts in olive oil, salt and pepper, and spread onto a baking sheet and bake for 20–25 minutes. Remove and let cool.
3. In a large non-stick skillet, toast the quinoa over medium heat for 10 to 15 minutes; add two cups of water, bring to a boil, cover and cook for 15 minutes.
4. While sprouts cook, whisk 1-1/2 tablespoons of olive oil, 1 tablespoon of soy sauce, 1/2 tablespoon of honey, a pinch of salt and pepper and garlic until thoroughly combined.
5. In a separate bowl, whisk together 1-1/2 tablespoons of olive oil, 1 tablespoon of balsamic vinegar, 1/2 tablespoon honey, and a pinch of salt and pepper until thoroughly combined.
6. Toss the sprouts in soy garlic dressing and the quinoa in balsamic dressing and serve.
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Mini Mushroom-&-Sausage Quiches (original source here)
8 ounces turkey breakfast sausage, removed from casing and crumbled into small pieces
1 teaspoon extra-virgin olive oil
8 ounces mushrooms, sliced
1/4 cup sliced scallions
3 ounces shredded Swiss cheese
1 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
12 eggs
1/2 cup 1% milk
1. Preheat to 350°F. Coat a nonstick muffin tin generously with cooking spray.
2. Heat a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add sausage and cook until golden brown minutes. Transfer to a bowl to cool. Add oil to the pan. Add mushrooms and cook, stirring often, until golden brown and water is evaporated. Transfer mushrooms to the bowl with the sausage. Let cool for 5 minutes. Stir in scallions, cheese and pepper.
3. Divide the sausage mixture evenly in the muffin cups.
4. Whisk eggs and milk together in a medium bowl. Divide the egg mixture evenly among the prepared muffin cups.
5. Bake until the tops are just beginning to brown, 40 minutes for a 6-cup large muffin tin. (Regular 12-cup tins may need less time.) Let cool on a wire rack for 5 minutes. Remove from pan and let cool completely.
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Tex-Mex Soup (I made this one up all by myself!)
1/2 cup chopped yellow bell pepper
1/2 cup chopped onion
1 cup sliced tomatillo
14.5 ounce can diced tomatoes with green chilies
2 cups chicken broth
1/2 cup sweet corn kernels
1 cup cooked, shredded chicken
1-1/2 cups cooked black beans
1. Coat a dutch oven with cooking spray. Heat over medium heat. Sauté the peppers and onions until soft. Add the tomatillos. Cook for 2 minutes more.
2. Add the diced tomatoes and chicken broth. Bring to a boil.
3. Add the corn, chicken, and black beans. Reduce heat, cover, and simmer for 30 minutes.
Games bartenders play
September 7, 2011
This is why it pays to develop a relationship with your bartender. (I don’t know if it actually warrants its own blog entry, but when has that ever stopped me?)
Remember Wiley the usually quiet bartender at Pizza Lucé? I had enjoyed my first St Lupulin this afternoon prior to going to the Twins game and was ready for another. Wiley set down the above half-full glass in front of me. (1)
“What’s this?”
*smirk*
“Guess 1”, no.
“Guess 2”, no.
About five wrong guesses total.
*smirk* “What did [other bartender] just go downstairs to do?”
“Change the 90 Shilling to Cutthroat Porter.”
“Yeah, and…?”
“Uhh, erm…”
“The St Lupulin just ran out and…?”
“OMIGOD THAT WAS THE LAST HALF GLASS OF ST LUPULIN AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!” (2)
*smirk*
So then Wiley sets down this full glass.
“So what’s this?”
*smirk*
*taste* *dawning comprehension*
*smirk*
“So he also just changed the St Lupulin.”
*smirk*
“Psych!”
Tip your bartender well in appreciation of the games he or she will play with you!
(1) Wiley did not serve me the first one. He well could have checked my tab in the computer to learn what I had. Regardless, I was impressed with the game.
(2) I freaked out so because St Lupulin is seasonal, and it’s a short season, and that very likely COULD have been the last half glass for this year.
Cooking with beer: Odell IPA ???Hop On??? Chicken
September 6, 2011
All in all, it was a decent Labor Day weekend. I had kind of meant to go to the Minnesota State Fair. The weather was perfect with highs barely reaching 70°F/20°C, but I ended up doing a lot of cooking instead. My favorite vegetables have come into season at the Nicollet Mall farmers market—zucchini, tomatoes, eggplant, red bell peppers–and for each of the last two weeks, I’ve bought far too much. So I must cook it all up into tasty dishes. Today’s tofu zucchini stroganoff was okay at best, but last night’s dinner rated an A+.
For most of the week I had been trying to finish the Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix audiobook so that I could watch the movie at the weekend. Didn’t quite make it after falling asleep on it twice, but I got to the last chapter and I’ve come to learn that the main action is usually concluded by the second or third to last chapter so I decided not to worry about it.
Also for most of the week, I had been chomping at the bit to make the Odell IPA “Hop On” Chicken recipe that they posted. As you may recall, I tried making the Double Pilsner bread substituting whole wheat flour (with baking powder and salt) for white self-rising flour. The flavor if not the density was good, so I was excited to try another beer recipe.
To make use of a lot of the vegetables, I found a recipe for Italian Stuffed Eggplant from one of my favorite cookbooks, The Low-Fat Way to Cook (Oxmoor House, 1993, p. 126). I adapted it to use lentils instead of brown rice, and feta cheese instead of mozzarella.
The eggplants went into the oven to heat through and I set to work on the chicken.
I assembled those ingredients. This was the first chance I had to practice what I would like to be my new meat-buying philosophy after seeing the Wikipedia article about that horrible Smithfield pork producer. I don’t mind eating animals but I decided that I’d at least go to the co-op for more humanely raised meat. The chicken breasts were about three times more expensive but I think it was worth it.
I had gotten the chicken marinating the afternoon before, so they ended up marinating for 24 hours. I only got three breasts (or breast halves, I guess) because they were giant, and cut each of those in half.
I used my grill pan. I wanted to sear both sides before I left the chicken cooking. The pieces were thick, I think it ended up being about 20 minutes.
The eggplant halves came out of the oven looking perfect.
The chicken grilled up in the pan and came out looking perfect.
But more importantly, this was one of the most delicious meals I’ve ever made for myself! I put in the Harry Potter movie, poured one of the remaining Odell IPAs and had a very enjoyable date night for one. Who needs a restaurant?
Cooking with beer: Odell Double Pils beer bread
August 29, 2011
As I await an official Odell Brewing beer dinner in the Twin Cities (I am told I missed one last year and if I think about it, I perhaps vaguely remember its announcement), I decided to do my own mini-dinner at home centering around the baking of a loaf of Odell Double Pilsner beer bread, to serve with the vegetables I grilled and roasted last night.
Odell Todd gave me the recipe when I went to a beer and cheese pairing Wednesday night. Turns out he had made the three loaves of the bread that they served. I only had a taste because I got there a little later, compared to the whole slices that were served earlier. Todd assured me it was easy, and indeed, it only has three ingredients:
3 cups self-rising flour
1/2 cup sugar
12 ounces Odell Double Pilsner
Combine ingredients in a large bowl. Spoon into buttered pan. Bake at 350°F for 50 minutes, brush with butter, bake for 5 minutes more.
I decided to make it with whole wheat flour, because I try to avoid the processed, white versions of things if at all possible. So I did:
3 cups whole wheat flour
1/2 cup sugar
4-1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
12 ounces Odell Double Pilsner
I baked at 375°F for 50 minutes, brushed with butter, baked for 5 minutes more.
If I made it again with whole wheat flour, I would use 6 teaspoons of baking soda and less sugar, maybe only 1/4 cup, as well as use my smaller loaf pan. Or just use white, self-rising flour. It tasted good but I was disappointed that it didn’t rise up higher than the sides of the pan. I do realize that “whole wheat quick bread” is probably an oxymoron.
I cut a couple of slices, topped them with thin slices of feta cheese, and baked for 10 or 15 minutes and broiled to brown. I served with my leftover vegetables and had a nice meal.
Then and now (this is my life)
August 17, 2011
These two photos are the earliest and latest ones I have of myself. What has happened in between? Funny you should ask. Let’s take a look.
Ages ½–10
I’d swear I remember when the baby picture was taken. I have other toddler memories, such as what the kitchen in our first house in Manteno, Illinois, looked like. Yellow and floral.
We spent many summers in Bloomington, Indiana, while my dad worked on his PhD at Indiana University. He finished the work but his committee denied him of the degree.
To this day I have dreams that involve the house on Main Street in Ada, Ohio, where I grew up. I’d love to get back inside that house for a look. I remember listening to Winnie-the-Pooh and Peter and the Wolf records in the living room on our big, console stereo. It was a big deal when I got to operate it myself. We moved to a different house when I was eight.
Ages 11–20
Our new house was a block inside city limits. Most of the time I’d walk or bike to school, but if I wanted to ride the schoolbus, I walked over to Grandview Boulevard.
I spent countless hours in the city swimming pool. I spent countless hours playing Kick the Can with the neighborhood kids. I crashed my friend’s brand new bike that I rode around while she was inside eating supper. There was a horse at the end of the block, where the town suddenly turned into the country. There was a woods at the end of the block that seemed very big at the time. In it there was a treehouse.
We moved to Wisconsin two days before I turned fifteen. During the first year, my sophomore year in high school, it was novel and fun and not completely awful because it was to the small city where my grandparents lived and I already had a couple of friends. Then in my junior year, I grew to resent having been plucked from where I had grown up. I became a troubled teen. I stayed out all night one time without communicating with my parents. I broke up with my boyfriend which upset my parents who liked him a lot. Their reaction was very formative. I considered dropping out of high school.
I worked as a professional radio deejay.
I graduated high school. I started college. I dropped out of college.
I moved out of the house. I moved into the house.
I went back to college. I dropped out of college.
I moved out of the house. I moved into the house. I still have nightmares that for one reason or the other, I have been forced to move back in with my parents at my current age with my youth issues, such as no boys in my bedroom.
Ages 21–30
I started technical college. I transferred technical colleges. I dropped out of technical college.
I moved out of the house. I went back to college. I dropped out of college. Rinse and repeat.
I moved to Minneapolis, Minnesota, to go back to college. I finished college! My mom proudly told a friend that I was graduating at age twenty-six. Her friend asked what my PhD was in. Sadly, it was just my bachelor’s degree, in English, after eight years.
I went to Europe for the first time on a trip with my parents that was a graduation present.
I worked for a year at a job that was pretty dead-end but which got me lots of promotional copies of albums on cassette. I decided to go to graduate school.
I moved to Madison, Wisconsin, to go to the University of Wisconsin for meteorology. I learned that a boy who had been one of my best friends growing up and who also went to Wisconsin for meteorology was, in fact, gay and that we’d never have that chance to get together that I had been denied when my parents ripped me away at age fifteen.
I flunked out of graduate school when I failed calculus for the second time. I began to get serious about bowling.
I went to the local technical college, Madison Area Technical College, and met Chris Gargan. I graduated with my commercial art degree and have been a graphic designer ever since.
Ages 31–40
I moved back to Minneapolis. I worked through a temp agency and met my two best friends, Jim and California Rob. I became employed at my current position which I’ve held for over sixteen years. Oh my goodness, I began to grow up!
I became a published author, though not in the way I imagined as a kid. But my name now appears in the Library of Congress, so that’s something.
I went to the United Kingdom for the first time and fell in love with it. I realized that London is my soulmate. I will live there someday.
I got more serious about my bowling.
Age 41–present
Along with other spending, all of my trips to England contributed to my declaring personal bankruptcy. I learned that it’s not actually that difficult, in the big scheme of things, to live without credit. Except for being deprived of more trips to England.
I kept getting more serious about my bowling. People think I’m joking when I say I take three balls with my to league. The people who are really serious take six or eight.
California Rob moved to California. Jim got married. Possibly in the opposite order. I began my descent into curmudgeonhood.
Oddly, still in my bankruptcy, I was able to procure a mortgage and buy my first home, a condominiumized apartment. Gotta start somewhere. The housing market tanked. I am stuck unless I want to take a significant loss in my selling price.
I began to develop my love of craft beer. I hate saying “craft beer” because it’s such a buzz-term right how. But if more people like it, more will be made and that’s not a bad thing. My gateway beers were Bell’s Oberon and the local Summit Extra Pale Ale.
I have slowly and surely been gaining weight.
Last night, I picked up a twelve-pack of Summit’s Silver Anniversary Ale. Then I went to the preseason meeting for my Monday bowling league. Then I stopped at a bar that had a firkin of a special, grapefruit-infused version of Odell Brewing St. Lupulin Extra Pale Ale, a current favorite of mine. I was chit-chatting with the young patrons on either side of me about beers in general and India Pale Ales (my preferred variety) in particular. My bartender asked me—almost accusingly, as though I were a spy for a distributor—who I worked for. When I said a small graphic design company, he blinked and said, “You know a lot about beer.”
That made me feel really good.
Tonight, I enjoyed some of that Summit Silver Anniversary Ale.
I interrupt my intended topic for this evening (which was to have been a report on my recent side-by-side comparison of my four favorite India Pale Ales) for a different, though still beer-related, narrative—the in-depth explanation of today’s freaky (in a good way) events which came to light due to the purchasing by two involved parties of Odell Brewing’s new special edition Woodcut No. 5 Belgian-Style Quad Ale.
The story begins innocently enough. I realized that I could follow my favorite businesses on social media to get inside scoops. I followed one of my local booze huts, Zipp’s Liquors, on Twitter. At some point, I must have gotten an @ reply to a comment or question about whether they carried something. My beer friendship with Tyler was born, because he’s very responsive with the tweets.
My California friends (you know, Rob and his circle; Rob, who used to go to Saint Sabrina’s to get pierced with Lauren; Lauren who instigated my actual getting of my rabbit tattoo) turned me on to Instagram. This is the part I really don’t remember—who betweeen Tyler and me found the other on Instagram, but we did.
Instagram plays faster and looser with your associations, because you see what your contacts have liked, and then it’s real easy for you to get carried away and start liking some of the same photos, and the next thing you know you’re following people you’ve never heard of. That’s how I connected with Jason. I began to notice that Tyler frequently liked Jason’s photos and that they usually involved beer. As you know, I love beer. So I began liking Jason’s beer photos and the next thing you know, Jason and I were following each other. And Tyler followed Rob, so I guess we’re even!
Then I got bold and followed Jason on Twitter, keeping my remarks by and large beer-related (though he is a creative like me, and I wish I had the time to start the morning with sketching). Today it transpired that Jason asked Odell Brewing when the Woodcut No. 5 was coming to Minnesota. Odell Todd replied that it should be here, then Tyler said he got it in at Zipp’s today. I said I’d be over after work. Jason said he’d be by after work. I was hoping we’d end up there at the same time so that we could introduce ourselves. No such luck.
I got home with my Woodcut and snapped the requisite self-portrait for proudly posting online—artfully posed in front of my wall of woodcut art that I’ve made myself, but not gotten all framed—though I never got around to uploading it to Facebook because I got distracted by being outside for an hour and a half yardening. At exactly the same time that I tweeted my photo, Jason tweeted that he had arrived home to find that his awesome wife Lisa had a Woodcut waiting for him. I was overcome with excitement for both myself and him, so I tweeted kudos directly to Lisa, who at that point was not a Twitter contact with me in either direction.
That’s when the Beerlight Zone revved up.
Lisa immediately followed me which tickled me because Jason hasn’t yet, which I thought he might by now but which doesn’t bother me that he doesn’t, because I can be stingy about accepting new contacts myself and I totally get it. Nevetheless, it pleased me to reciprocate with Lisa. And then the darnedest thing happened.
When you follow someone new, Twitter helpfully suggests a couple other people who it thinks you might like. Well, damned if one of those people wasn’t Katherine, my former co-worker! I freaked out, in a good way. Katherine left us to move to San Francisco, but we still adore her, and she’s still doing some work for us long-distance.
I immediately got the feeling that I had met Jason and Lisa at a happy hour last summer, in particular, the one that happened after we had an office outing to a Twins game and stopped off afterwards, and Katherine, Karl, and two couples friends of theirs had joined in. But you know what? Anticlimax. In re-envisioning the events just now, I realize that it wasn’t Katherine’s friends but my other co-worker Colleen’s friends and it had nothing to do with a Twins game.
But the freakiness stands. Me -> Tyler -> Jason -> we love beer & Odell -> Lisa -> Katherine -> me.
My parents don’t quite comprehend why I love what they see as impersonally interacting with my online peeps as much as I do. Other people who have rich in-person circles (not all of them, but some of them) don’t quite understand how 92/8 online/IRL (that’s just an estimate) can be just fine by me. Tonight’s occurrence shows part of the reason why. Well, at least it does to me.
Incidentally, I did not pop the cork on my Woodcut No. 5 tonight because it was not chilled when I bought it and also because, after yardening in 85F/30C temperatures, the nice, light Southern Tier Hop Sun was just what the doctor ordered. I’ll probably have the Woodcut on a Saturday night when I can make a nice meal to go with it (though not tomorrow because I’m making a curry and I don’t think it would pair well with that, and not next Saturday because I’ll be at the Twins game). Jason said it’s good. It’s Odell, so I assume that much on faith!
Liquid love: now a 3-way
May 25, 2011
Over the course of various posts, you have learned how much how much I love Bell’s Oberon beer. I’ve extolled its virtues and touted it as a favorite sign of spring. Well, as of a year ago, Oberon has had to share the spotlight. It’s like Cate Blanchett’s character in the movie “Bandits” said—”What if I don’t want to choose? What if, together, you make the perfect man?” Well, Oberon and, now, Odell Brewing’s St. Lupulin extra pale ale make it impossible for me to choose my favorite spring seasonal and both have me anxiously awaiting spring.
I was first introduced to St. Lupulin a year ago during an enjoyable outing to a Minnesota Twins game with a good friend. We stopped at another of my favorites, Pizza Lucé (downtown), for solid and liquid refreshments before the game. Pizza Lucé has a decent beer list and they have a couple of spots that they rotate with seasonals and limited/special editions. I chose the Odell St. Lupulin because theretofore I had never had an EPA other than Summit’s completely delicious one.
Well, one sip in and I was in love.
I learned that Odell was new in town a year ago, and as new varieties appeared in various places, I made sure I tried every one of them. And as with the other five of my favorite breweries*, I have yet to meet one I didn’t like even if, generally, I don’t like that variety. I love all Odell beers, it seems.
As such, I’ve made it a point to follow their happenings around town. And in doing so, I’ve been getting to know the people associated with bringing this fine product to me, including Doug Odell himself.
Okay, so it was more a brush with fame with Mr. Odell than “getting to know.” In the last couple of years, I have made it my mission to get a photo of myself with the owners of each of my favorite breweries. Thus far, I have four and a half out of six. I am missing Sierra Nevada, and for Surly, I have Mr. Ansari, Omar’s dad. Guilt by association.
A week or two prior to my meeting Mr. Odell, I had attended the release party for another of their seasonals, Red Ale. Coincidentally and very happily, that event was held at the very same Pizza Lucé.
That was the same evening that I got to meet a local online friend, Holly, in person for the first time. Holly is an online acquaintance of my friend Rob’s friend Sara. Rob is my best friend from here who moved to California. Sara is one of his best friends there. Keeping up?
Holly took off and I stayed for one more. As the Odell people were winding things up, I introduced myself to two fellows, Hanszee from Odell’s distributor Capitol Beverage, and Todd the local Odell rep. It was the end of the evening and maybe they were looking to get rid of the rest of their stuff, or maybe they just appreciated my enthusiasm for their product. Hanszee gave me an Odell bottle opener key ring and a Red Ale t-shirt.
That was the start of my beer t-shirt collection.
A couple of weeks later I was excited because Doug Odell was coming to town and his meet-and-greet was being held at another of my favorite establishments, Brit’s Pub. I dorkily showed up in my Red Ale t-shirt, and it was about an hour before anybody came over to talk to me. Happily, it was Hanszee, and I explained to him my desire to get a photo with Mr. Odell, but that I was having a shy attack. Hanzee took charge and marched me over to Mr. Odell and my mission was accomplished.
There was no contact between me and the Odells for months after that. But then, spring drew nearer and I had a concrete date for the release of St. Lupulin. In quite the anticlimax, it turned out to be a week later than I had been led to believe but when it happened, the release party was thankfully at an establishment downtown and I was able to attend, barely. My parents were arriving for a visit at about the same time. I ignored that fact to go get a taste of springtime nectar.
Hanszee and Todd were there, as well as some other Odell associate who physically resembles Todd, and oddly, Nate the local Stone Brewing guy. Huh?
I was recognized and greeted, and though I would have loved to stay for two or three, I had to get going. On my way out, Hanszee offered me my snazzy St. Lupulin t-shirt. I was very excited!
A few days later one of my local stores, Zipp’s Liquors, had an Odell tasting. Turns out, Todd was there to pour. Then the following week, after a Zipp’s-sponsored major beer tasting, I got to hang out with Todd for a while, as well as a few other beer suspects including Hanszee and Tyler from Zipp’s, during a Double-Double mini-event. Double #1: Myrcenary double IPA. Double #2: Double Pils. A month earlier I had tried Myrcenary for the first time. Instant favorite!
One of the things about Odell Brewing is that the label artwork and hand-lettering is just beautiful. Such are the Myrcenary label and the St. Lupulin. I happened to notice that Todd had given a Myrcenary t-shirt to another patron. It didn’t take long before I was in possession of one myself. Heh.
So suddenly, I have five beer t-shirts, three of which are Odell**. Wokka! It’s a little bit silly how thrilled I am to have them, unless you consider how much I love what they promote!
*Bell’s, Lagunitas, Sierra Nevada, Summit, Surly (alphabetical order, because I couldn’t be expected to actually rate them)
**The other two are Surly, which I bought after a brewery tour, and Great Lakes Brewing, which was given to me at the above-mentioned Zipp’s tasting. I like the Great Lakes Commodore Perry IPA.
Odell brews I have brought home.
Odell brews I have tasted.
The keys to my happiness
March 31, 2011
This is going to be one of those really interesting entries because, although this looks like a boring picture of my keys by my front door, upon closer inspection you will realize that yet again we combine two of my great loves—rabbits and beer. That’s exciting, right?
I’ve had both of the key holders forever, though I installed the upper one only this past weekend after having lived in my current home for five and a half years. I bought the bottom one as naked wood at some place like Jo Ann Fabrics or Michaels and painted it with stain I had left from the rickety dorm room loft I built out of 2 x 4s and nuts and bolts but no fancy joints. Thinking back on it, it’s a wonder I’m alive to tell the tale. The color was the closest to black I could get. It was the 80s, after all.
The top key holder probably came from Lyndale Garden Center (no longer in business), and in your own shopping adventures you’ve probably more likely come across the cat version, where the hooks are the cats’ tails. Of course for the rabbits, they’re just hooks and I had had it up for decoration in my old place. In my current place, an 18-unit condominium, I have built up an impressive collection of my neighbors’ keys—from cat-sitting to main water shut-off access to I don’t know why. A few weeks ago I was rummaging around for something else and came across the holder and realized that it would be the perfect device for storing the other keys in a more accessible way, rather than jumble in the box in which they currently reside. Me being me, I’ve only managed to walk two sets of other keys the ten feet over to it thus far.
As for my own keys, I have two sets. The “big” set that includes my car key and some extra loops, and my “little” set that doesn’t, which I take when I don’t, you know, have to drive. And this is where the beer comes in and your perseverance is rewarded. The little set lives on my Bell’s Oberon tag. Oberon is, you may recall, one of my top favorite beers, and was, in fact, just released Monday for the 2011 season. Spring is not far away when the Oberon flows.
My big keys had a personality change recently. For quite some time they had sported a green whistle sponsored by Corona. If you have learned anything about me, it’s that I don’t drink thin, light, yellow beer. But the Corona whistle was also a bottle opener, so I tolerated its presence. A couple of months ago, there was an upgrade. I attended the Odell Red Ale release party at Pizza Lucé downtown and got swag, including a snazzy Odell bottle opener key ring. Buh-bye, Corona whistle.
I also noticed, in laying out the new picture of my key rings, that I apparently put my car key back on the opposite side the last time my car was in for service.
See? I told you this would be interesting.
Kelly’s Unnecessary Blog 