Cardamom Raisin Bread

I used to buy this Honey Date Walnut bread at Whole Foods in Denver that was just delicious. Really, it was the reason I got out of bed in the morning all winter long. But, apparently it was just a seasonal bread and they stopped making it. Since then, I've been on the quest for the perfect bread for my morning toast --

WANTED: Bread. A little sweet, but not too sweet. A little spice, but not enough that you can tell what's in there. Lots of texture and grains. Must go well with butter, honey, nut butters, and jam. Inquire within.

I've given up trying to find a loaf like this, especially for cheap, and now I've moved on to finding recipes to bake my own bread. Or, perhaps better said, I've taken to manipulating recipes I've found. My newest stab at the perfect morning bread. It's baking now. Review will be posted soon.

Cardamom Raisin Bread

1 Tablespoon dry activated yeast

1/4 cup warm water

1/2 cup + 1/2 teaspoon sugar

1 cup skim milk

2 eggs, beaten

1/2 t salt

3/4 teaspoon ground cardamom
pinch of ground cloves
smidge of ginger powder

4 1/2 cup flour (or whole wheat flour)

1/4 cup butter

1/2 cup raisins

Mix yeast, warm water, and 1/2 teaspoon sugar until yeast dissolves. Set aside. Heat milk in a saucepan over low heat until small bubbles appear along the edges. Cool slightly. Add beaten eggs, 1/2 cup sugar, salt, cardamom, and 3 cups flour. Beat well. Add butter, beat well. Add yeast mixture. Add remaining flour in three additions. Add raisins. Mix well. Knead on a lightly floured surface until smooth and elastic (~10 min). Place dough in an oiled bowl. Cover and let double (~1 hour). Punch down and let rise again until doubled (~45 min). Divide the dough in half. From each half, roll three ropes 12-18 inches. Braid the ropes into two loaves. Place on a greased baking sheet. Let rise until doubled (~1 hour). Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Bake 25 minutes, or until the loaves sound hollow when tapped on the bottom.

Summer wears on

It's 6:00 a.m. I'm heading to the gym in a minute.

The skies are grey, and it would be a perfect day for crawling back into bed and calling in sick. I've got my proposal, my baby, due today. There are phone calls to Peru to make. My iShuffle playlist awaits me, as I slowly wake up on the stationary bike. These are the summer days we would come out of Mr. Tyler's pool shivering and pretty much blue all over with purple lips. Mom would be waiting with arms open to wrap us in a towel. She'd feel so guilty throwing us into swimming lessons when we're that tiny and had so little body fat to keep us warm, we knew she'd make us hot chocolate on return. With marshmallows. We had it pretty good those days. Mid July is when you start to feel that summer, in fact, is not endless. But you rest assured that there are plenty of sunny days left ahead. More ice cream on Fridays at Smugglers or Captain Frosty's. More s'mores over the cooling barbecue coals. More sunsets at the bridge and shooting stars at midnight walks.

Summer wears on.

At this time of morning just a few weeks ago the sun would be up already. At night, it has started to get dark earlier. Hard to believe I've only three weeks left here in D.C. and just about four weeks until I'm back in Denver. I have this feeling that I'm leaving my real life here. The life that I love. The life that I went to Denver to be able to have. It's a nice affirmation that what I'm doing in graduate school will get me where I wanted (and want) to go. I just have to remember I'm not here yet. One more year. If I do land a job and get myself this real life for more than a summer, it'll all seem worthwhile. It's hard to imagine being in Denver, in school, taking exams, studying things like criminal procedure and evidence, for a whole other year. But, for now, I'll get myself to the gym, pump up my music, and move on with my grey summer day.

Summer wears on.

Small World story

So, there I was this morning on my way to my grandmother's for lunch and an afternoon visit. It was actually raining out this morning, a welcome change from the oppressively hot, humid D.C. weather. I made a quick stop off at the Firehook Bakery because I like to bring little cookie and scone treats for Grandma (she needs fattening up!). Of course I was running a little late, as usual, when I ran down the stopped escalator down to red line at Dupont. I get into the train, which is surprisingly packed for a weekend. I figure I'll try to get a seat somewhere in the middle because I'm going all the way to the last stop and won't need to push through to get off mid-way. I excuse myself to get by the crowd. Well! I see one empty seat - lucky me - and beeline toward it. Next to the empty seat is an attractive, my-age-ish guy who is smiling at me and patting the seat. He looks at me and says, "There's a seat for you right here" ... it was my friend, Max! Max is the high school friend of my dearest college friend. They went to high school together in Israel. He was born in Egypt, lived everywhere, does International Development theater work and last was living in Sudan. I last saw him about a month ago at our mutual dear friend's wedding in Philadelphia. Turns out, he was just here in town for the weekend or something and was going to some theater plays his friends were in. How crazy is that! We happened to be in the same city, going in the same direction, on the same train, in the same car at the same time. Small world. He said he lives "nowhere" now, was just working on a farm in PA for awhile and is possibly heading back to Sudan soon.

On one hand, I felt like, See! I have so many friends here in the city that I "run into" people randomly. Of course, it was especially nice to run into Max. I always have a particular soft spot for Max because he is such a good friend of my dear friend. I also partly have a soft spot for Max because he and I seem to have similar careers and lifestyles. But, on the other hand, somehow there was something about running into Max that made me pensive and feel a bit sad. As if, out of the whole city, the only person I know is a chance encounter with a friend of a friend. Both of us just passing each other by. We have just 3 stops together before one of us is off in another direction again. And, neither of us actually has a permanent life here, or really anywhere. It was all so quick. Pretty much like all of the times I've been around Max, there was not (will there ever be?) enough time to get to talk about the real things in life.

Isn't that weird, though? Running into someone I know made me feel independent in a small world, and yet immensely alone in a large world. Who knows, maybe it was just the dreary Saturday morning rain...

Presunto Culpable

Gente,

I saw this great documentary movie yesterday and met the filmmakers. It's about the disaster that is Mexico's criminal justice sector. It's shocking. Please, please visit their website. See the movie. Inform yourself. Tell others. Do what you can.

http://www.presumedguiltythemovie.com/

Two young Mexican attorneys attempt to exonerate a wrongly convicted man by making a documentary. In the process, they expose the contradictions of a judicial system that presumes suspects guilty until proven innocent.

Back at it

Oops, I didn't update for quite awhile. I'm back, though! There's almost too much to say, it's overwhelming. I suppose this is why I left it for so long.

Yesterday I saw a bunch of Orthodox Jews walking by the White house. They were wearing tall black hats, full-length black coats and suits underneath. It was 101 degrees. They weren't walking on the sidewalk, but in the street. I wondered if that was because women were walking on the sidewalk. Then, they were stopped at the crosswalk because cars in the other direction had a green light. One way was clear, so the Jews started walking across the street in a huge pack. But, then a massive truck came rumbling down the street. The Jews hesitated. Some took a step forward, others a step back. Most froze right there in the middle of a four lane street with oncoming traffic. It was like sheep, or a pack of freshmen girls going to a college frat party. Then a car came from the other direction. More confusion. One Jew reached the other side but the rest spread out in a line clear across the street. I thought for sure I was going to witness a Jewish Abby road album cover gone-wrong version.

I can tell the days are getting shorter, although perhaps it's the ridiculous humidity in the morning that diffuses the light differently. I'm not sad that summer is ending because I love fall. I am a tad bit sad to think that my life here in D.C. is ending. I love what I'm doing, have friends here, like having my weekends and evenings (mostly) free. I like being able to hop on a bus up to NYC to visit my brother. I love Trader Joe's and how curly my hair is on the east coast. I love walking to work and catching up with college friends. I like visiting my grandma every weekend.

(The Cuteness. Grandma, not me.)

I had lunch with my boss today. Just the two of us. He wouldn't let me pay, even though I invited him. The internship business is a whole other post, but I am really enjoying my internship and feel so lucky to be having this opportunity.

I've been reading various magazines at the gym. Harper's. The Atlantic. The New Yorker. I really like Harper's. What do other people think? Do you read magazines? Post a comment and tell me which ones you read and like!