It’s possible I should upload pictures more often, so that my uploads are slightly less schizophrenic. To which I say: pppffft. You’re lucky I take pictures at all.
Cheese!
Anyway, I have pictures for March and April, including lots of playground stuff, pretty much every nice day in the last 6 weeks, Piemas, grandma, Easter, and many silly faces by Grey (which represent only a small portion of the silly faces that have pictures taken).
Enjoy!
So this Friday is my last day of the blessed interregnum. I think it’s time. Two weeks was, as it turns out, just long enough. On the one hand, I think I could handle this pretty much indefinitely if forced to… this whole not working while mostly getting paid, having benefits, and having the kids go to daycare. It’s a tough gig, I know.
But I’m really well rested. I’m the best rested I’ve been in years. In part thanks to that darn stomach bug on Monday, I’ve gotten more sleep this fortnight than I’ve gotten since… I don’t know when. Maybe since puberty. Nah, there WAS that stretch of unemployment in 2001. Still. I slept in until 10 am this morning because hey! Gather you snoozes while you may for time is still a-flying!
And then there’s my to do list. Do you remember that long list? I’ve done the taxes, done the budget (that took ALL DAY yesterday, for reals), cleaned the carpet, cleaned out our clothing for donation, gotten recycling stickers (although not put them on the cans), applied for a HELOC and was told that one needs EQUITY for a Home Equity Line of Credit. (Who knew!) I got the cat food, bleached the comforter, cleaned off the front porch, repotted my ivy, made a turkey dinner, did the old company offboarding, the new company onboarding, got sick, took care of a sick kid, and tried to make sure that our evenings and weekends were unusually chore free.
I did not order pictures or update the baby book, but the day is not yet done.
On the fun side, I read several books (not enough), watched the Olympics, beat Torchlight, got to an end point in Fable and slept in. I probably did a little too much work and a little too little goofing, but even when you’re not working, there isn’t infinite time.
This moment is a little frustrating. I look at everything undone (why does the pile seem none-diminished?) and think, “Wow, it’ll be hard getting around to that.” There are still things that I’m not willing to give up, but that I know will be a challenge to get done. I realize I’ve been thinking of starting my new job as the complete loss of all free time. While for sure I will not have as much free time as at my last month or two at my old job, or this lovely break, my life will not cease because I have a job. (If so, it’s the wrong job for me. I don’t think this will be the case.) I wish there was some way to channel the restedness of my current self to make life easier for me in the future. I suppose that’s what doing the taxes now was all about.
It actually helped TREMENDOUSLY to have that interim meeting with them. I can imagine where I’ll be sitting, what kind of work I’ll be doing at first, who my coworkers will be. Instead of a black box onto which I project my worst fears, I have a filled in outline of my opportunities. It’s a great company.
I admit that I am afraid for this blog. I’ve worked really hard at it. I know that may not always be obvious from the quality of posts: “Today’s random collection of cute kid stuff and witty complaining”. But some of the posts have been hard work, hard writing, and stuff I can be proud of. Writing a blog post is a little like buying a lotto ticket — you keep hoping that this will be the one that launches you to Internet Fame and Advertiser Fortune! But that hasn’t been the case for me. The few I thought had a chance to do that have settled down into obscurity. In fact, the one posting of my that is most hit is from a Google search of “today sucks”. (Sorry mom! You taught me to use better language!) It’s exactly the kind of whiny post I write on days when I have nothing to say. The only redeeming fact is that plenty of people click through for a link of “Gives Me Hope” that I added after noticing all the traffic.
So what does the future here hold? Gradual drying up? Guilt for not posting? New, rich posts because my brain has all this new, rich material to process? Once a week catchups? I don’t know.
I love variety. I struggle with change. I’m not nearly as confident as I appear in the movies. I just have to have faith it’ll all work out.
Oh, before I forget! I didn’t do my big “order prints for great-grandma and baby books and a non-digital future” but I DID get the latest pictures up on the web. There are three sections:
The goodbye party at Chuck E Cheese: aka why I should be nominated for sainthood
My church’s potluck. Probably not interesting to you unless you attend my church.
And finally, I did something new. For Grey’s second to last day at his old preschool they were supposed to bring a picture of something they loved. I let him loose with the camera. When he was done, I made a collage on Picasa (fun and addictive!) of some of the things he loved. I made one mistake, making it too much about the things I love, but hey. We’re all human. He didn’t notice.
Things Grey loves
Dressed up for my interview
So as has become abundantly obvious, I just finished a successful job hunt. This represented the first time I’d actively looked for work in over 9 years. (I was poached for the position I had last. Ah, 2003!) I was intrigued by some of the things that were different now than I remember, I learned a few things, and I got some feedback. I figured that maybe what I learned would be a little helpful.
I should mention that my experience was highly influenced by my location and skill set. I live in Boston, which is a pretty darn good job market. I have a highly technical background with 10 years experience divided between pure programming and project management. For this market, that seemed to be a selectively in-demand skill set. I’m not sure if my advice applies if you’re coming out of finance or manufacturing, however. So your mileage may vary.
1) The jobs available are not online to be found. YOU have to be online to be found. I would say that 80% of the jobs for which I was well-qualified were NOT on any of the job boards. Right now, hiring departments are getting ground down under the weight of all the people who say they’re sending out hundreds of resumes and not getting any responses. In order to counter this, tons of companies who have jobs are not willing to post them on their website or on Monster.com. They simply don’t have the resources to wade through the flood of resumes, 95% of which will not be suitable, that they’ll get if they post anything.
So instead, they are calling recruiters. The recruiters aren’t posting any but the hardest to fill positions. They’re trolling Monster and Dice for resumes. The jobs they’re calling about, you cannot find by yourself. So if you are looking for a job, your first step is to make sure your resumes are on the job boards and are up to date. Change them regularly to look “active”. Be extremely polite to recruiters, and if they call for a job that doesn’t work, let them know what you ARE looking for and ask if they have anything else that might suit you.
Early on, there was a posted job I was extremely excited about. It sounded right up my alley. I applied through proper means. I did research and figured out the email address of the would-be-boss of that position. I used my network to find a back door to get my resume in. I got absolutely NO feedback from any of these three methods. I’m guessing they had either filled it or were just swamped. But the recruiters have consistently called with interesting positions that weren’t anywhere else, and they could only find me because my online information was relevant and up to date.
2) Think hard about your acronym set. I’m a programmer, and my resume is pretty much a laundry list of acronyms. How it works when they’re deciding to interview is that there’s a set of acronyms they need, a set of acronyms it would be cool to have, and the set of acronyms you offer. You almost always have to match the one or two they NEED, and then the rest are a bonus. Initially I was all over my main ones: Coldfusion, SQL, FLEX, Javascript, CSS, HTML, AJAX. I was taken by surprise about which one actually made a big difference in how my resume was approached: SAAS. That stands for Software as a Service. It’s not a technology. It’s not a methodology. It’s really how technology is delivered. But for recruiters, it was an important acronym to match up. For some hirers, they were excited that I had a background in that, since it apparently said something about my background and experience I hadn’t realized. So look around at what you do. There may be some descriptors you haven’t considered that are assets.
3) The interviews you bomb are your chance to get better. I like people. I like learning new things. Interviewing (you’re going to hate me now) was actually a lot of fun for me. Even if you don’t get the job. Even if you totally and completely blow the interview, it is a fantastic opportunity for you.
The first interview I went on, I blew a bunch of highly technical questions, and it turned out that I wasn’t a great fit for their open position. But I consider that interview a total win. Here’s what I did to make it a win.
Now I could’ve argued that those questions were completely irrelevant to what I was going to be asked to do, and that 15 minutes with Google would clear it all up. That would’ve been true. I could’ve been angry to be asked such off topic questions. But what I DID do was decide that while I’d gotten tripped up on those once, I wouldn’t be tripped up twice. I went home and read a book on HTTP. I went online and read about XHTML. And my husband also had a book on Deadly Security Sins in Programming, which I read appropriate section of.
(If you’re curious:
-HTTP has eight methods: get, post, put, head, delete, trace, options and connect.
-XHTML has additional constraints over HTML including: Case sensitivity, requirement for closing all tags, quotes are ALWAYS required around attributes, boolean values must be made explicit, and you cannot have implicitly created tags like head or body.
-Security is a bear. Obviously you have to be careful not to permit unescaped values into your database which can be executed, but my conclusion is “gosh, it’s hard”. I’d never considered how to make sure that the data doesn’t execute when you read it back OUT of the database!)
That company actually ended up not hiring me for that position, but tried to make a different one just for me that would play more to my strengths. That didn’t work out, but now I have friends there. It’s a small world. It never hurts to have friends.
4) Print your resume on nice paper and bring 3 copies. Chances are excellent your interviewer will have a crappily formatted, web-printed copy of your resume done on bad printer paper, which will look like all 500 other resumes currently piling on top of their desk. Printing a copy of your resume ahead of time shows you’re prepared. There’s a tactile sensation that’s a pleasure with better quality paper. I recommend an ivory paper so there’s not mistaking you went out of your way to make an impression. (Also, don’t worry too much about length. My resume took 3 pages because I have 3 pages of experience to talk about. That didn’t seem like a problem. If I’d tried to get it to 2, I don’t think it would’ve been as strong. After about 5 pages, though, consider eliminating some of your less relevant experience and having different resumes for different skill sets.)
5) Get to know the person at the front desk, if you can. Best case scenario, they’ll give you information about what’s happening, help you avoid stupid mistakes, and cheer for you. Some particularly smart interviewers ask receptionists afterwards what THEY thought. Worst case, you didn’t spike yourself. The receptionist at the second place I interviewed helped me with some minor issues, and offered moral support by cheering for me and saying he hopes he’ll see me soon. Now, when I show up for my first day of work, I’ll at least start out with a friendly face!
6) Send. A. Thank. You. Note. Yes, it’s the 21st century. Yes, people have email, Twitter, Facebook, Linked In and text messages. Do it anyway. Step 1, before you even interview, should be to go to a NICE stationery store and buy NICE thank you notes and make sure you have stamps that are not Simpson themed. When you get home from the interview, sit down immediately and write a thank you note to every person whose business card you got during the process. Talk about how grateful you were for their time. Explain how excited you are (if you were) about the position. Close by saying how you hope to be working with them soon. Mention something the two of you talked about.
It seems super obvious, but especially in technology that sort of formality and politeness can really set you apart. Everyone mentioned that they were very grateful for the notes. I think it showed that I’m the kind of person who knows what the proper protocol is and can execute it quickly and graciously. How I treat my interviewers is a sign about how I’ll treat my clients if I work for them.
7) Do your research!!! I’m not being innovative on this one. Pretty much every job hunting advice column says this. But it makes a huge difference. I’m pretty sure that the tipping point for the job I got was that I’d not only done research, I’d practically google-stalked them. I had read their employee handbook, was up on their financials and latest products, could talk about their corporate history, had a question about a previous big technology decision, knew my interviewer’s last two huge projects, knew what she looked like, and had done a sample application in the new language they would be asking me to program in. This was particularly great, since I didn’t have a lot of time to review the offer. By the time it came, I felt like I was already part of the team, I knew so much about them.
The very first question my second interviewer asked was “Why THISCOMPANY?” and I was able to give an essay for an answer. I suspect that was all she was really looking for.
So that’s what I did. I’m not sure how big a difference the finer points made, but it gave me confidence to know that I was doing the very best I knew how. Good luck to you, in your job hunt!
Let’s imagine, hypothetically, that you were given two weeks. Two weeks when the kids would be in their appropriate child care locations. Two weeks during which time you would not be refinishing the baby’s room (as my husband would like to mention). Just, well, two weeks for whatever it is you decide is important.
Now, resting and relaxing (or chillaxin’, depending on your vernacular) is definitely on this list. But what else? What projects are you going to undertake? What “this needs 4 dedicated hours without children” tasks, so long delayed because you never get 4 dedicated hours without children, are going to make your list?
Worst of all, which ones aren’t? Because let’s be honest — if it isn’t important enough to make your 2 weeks list, what is it important enough for? Will it ever get done? Aren’t you pretty much admitting it’s a low priority? You might as well drop it from your mental memory if it doesn’t get done in this two weeks.
Well, it just so happens that this is the circumstance in which I find myself. I have two weeks (minus next Thursday, which is bespoken). I have a list of ten items of “work”. They are:
Then there’s the goofing off. In broad strokes that looks like:
Finally, there are the Things That Need To Be Done. You know, the laundry, the dishes, buying diapers at Target (which seems to happen every 3 days or so) pick up the boys from daycare, exercising, do the regular bills (now with extra excitement from paycheck variety) cook dinner, reconstruct the house after the Thanepocalypse (how can someone so small make such a mess?)
Then there are the maybes. Like bleaching our bedspread or cleaning out the tupperware cupboard or tackling the detritus on the hutch.
When you look at it that way, suddenly 2 weeks doesn’t seem like that much. But I’ve decided something. First, to treat the fortnight as the gift that it is. Just because it’s likely to be rich and full doesn’t mean that it’s not wonderful. I could get all defensive about how it’s not so much time and it’s interrupted with daycare dropoffs etc so as to make sure other people don’t “count” the two weeks as a period of pure leisure. But I don’t think that’s honest, productive or fair. It is a great gift. Second, I want to prioritize the goofing. That might sound weird, but I almost always make time to do the things that need to be done. I am much less good about actually sinking back into the couch with a good novel.
Finally, I want to make this a time of joy for my family. I want to take some of my extra energy and play better with my sons, and be a bit more patient. I want my husband to revel in two weeks of what it would be like if my energies were devoted to being a housewife with daycare. I’d like to spoil him a little. And I’d like to emerge from my hiatus energized, enthused, confident and ready to face new challenges.
Part of the reason I’ve been so tongue-tied here lately is because there’s been something big going on that I haven’t — couldn’t — blog about. When so much of your thoughts, imagination, pondering and wondering are caught up in something you can’t write about, it’s hard to generate much for the things you can write about. So, without further foot-dragging, here’s the news.
I’m leaving my job for a new one.
Like this - I never could do these
What? You don’t think that’s earth-shattering? That’s because you’re not the one doing it. I feel like I’m doing one of those puzzles where there are 9 slots with 8 tabs and you have to reorganize them to make a smiley face. I’ve been working at my current company for 7 and a half years. I was 23 when I came. I was employee #6. I’ve watched every stage of development and invested my energy, enthusiasm and imagination. I and my coworkers have grown into adulthood together, and started families. It’s really hard to leave. But I am ready for some new challenges, opportunities and growth. And I have been offered a fantastic new position, which I’m going to take.
I think this is good news for me and hopefully for my family. I suspect, however, that it is bad news for you. Changing jobs requires lots of energy. I’m expecting to go into this position and spend my days working really hard. I’m looking forward to it, actually. But one of the places that new energy is going to come from (let’s be honest) is right here. Now, I’m not DROPPING the blog or anything crazy like that. I just suspect that the posting frequency (and possibly length) will go down significantly, at least for a while.
And one of the huge changes, which probably deserves it’s own post because by huge I mean completely ginormous, is that my sons can’t stay in their current child care environments. That commute does not compute. So (and I have to tell Grey this weekend!) I’m pulling the boys out of Abuela’s, their beloved daycare provider. I’m super-duper-uper sad about this. I also feel terrible about leaving her with open slots. Happily, it occurred to me that maybe I could use my Blog powers for good (instead of for potty training updates), and I made her a website: Rubertina’s Daycare in Lawrence Mass. If you HAPPEN to know anyone who needs fantastic childcare in the Lawrence area, I can hook you up.
I have a few weeks before I start, so I’m not going to make you go cold-turkey on updates. But eek! Adventures ahead!
Saturday was tree day. After several cumulative hours of aikido and a few tantrums because it wasn’t tree time RIGHT NOW we finally went to go purchase our Christmas tree. As we stood in the bitter winter afternoon winds, surrounded by swirls of evergreens, Grey demanded candy instead and promptly pitched a fit about not getting it. Then when I had my back turned he “went to find daddy”. Ahhhhh fun times. Then when I applied what I thought was an overly mild punishment (loss of DS use for leaving mommy) he cried so hard he threw up. All over the car. I think on purpose. And I broke the external screen on my phone somehow – I don’t know how.
Merry Christmas!
Happily, life then improved. We got home and cleaned up the car. We put an exhausted Thane down for a nap, and erected our festive boughs in the living room. Grey helped decorate the tree. Only two ornaments have been shattered so far. And as we decorated, it began to snow — the first true snowfall of winter a white benediction on our celebration.
Victorious Christmas tree assemblers
Yesterday I put all three boys down for a nap. First Thane (night night little Pookie!), then Grey (Robby, please make sure Grey goes to sleep), then Adam (he didn’t need much urging). Only Adam got any sleep, and that was 15 minutes while Thane was bopping around his crib before he started being unhappy.
While the boys were Not Sleeping, I was attempting to update my ipod (and mostly failing — my old one has a battery issue) and uploading pictures (and mostly succeeding). Here, for your viewing pleasure, are the latest and greatest in the our familiy snaps!
I contributed to global warming yesterday. It’s much better for the environment when I just come to work and sit here under the warm glow of fluorescent tubes. (Actually, I can’t complain. I get tons of real light, and in winter have a lovely view of the river.) But yesterday was my Random Day Off!
My first trip out the door was to get the boys to their appropriate daytime locations. We were LATE for preschool, because our dudes have started sleeping later (glory be!) which is fantastic for weekends but less fantastic for school days. On my way home I: washed and vacuumed the car, got a nummy breakfast sandwich, and bought many needful and useful things at Target.
I returned home and unloaded the trove of loot. I immediately went back out for round #2, which took me to Michael’s (where I completely struck out) and AC Moore (where I did nominally better). This time I returned with waning daylight, Christmas light hooks for the front porch and a bunch of inexpensive (er, let’s be honest, cheap) picture frames.
Once again I returned to our abode and unpacked, hung festive lighting on a precarious ladder, and then went to reframe and hang our family portraits.
The cheap frames didn’t have the hanger thingies attached. You had to do it yourself with these TEENY TINY CHEAP nails. I’ve had more fun. Happily, the boys weren’t around to learn any new words from mommy.
Then I went back up North for another hour and a half round trip to get the boys. Traffic northbound was ugly.
I brought the boys back home and delighted them by feeding them pancakes. I’ve noticed that it doesn’t matter whether Grey professes his undying adoration of a meal or his inimitable disgust in the offering — he still doesn’t EAT it. Thane, on the other hand, has an “if it doesn’t move it’s food” attitude which I’m beginning to find rather refreshing. After bath time (an increasingly soggy affair) and story time, I was off to church for Prayer at the Close of Day.
Phew! Happily, the Christmas lights are up, we have enough diapers and new toothbrushes all around, the looming project that had been mocking me first thing every morning is accomplished, dinner is in the slow-cooker for tonight and joy abounds!
Now if only I’d gotten any Christmas cards done it would’ve been perfect!
Sadly, this morning I feeling woogly. My throat is scratchy. I’m tireder than I should be given several nights of good sleep. I hope that a good dose of Zombie Cowboys (long story) clears things up!
My son’s preschool sent home a book about making butter the other week. It gave very simple instructions on how butter is made (although I find the premise unrealistic: who has cream sitting around but not butter?)
The day after Mocksgiving, I was glancing at the book when I remembered I had the remnants of a pint of heavy whipping cream in the ‘fridge, which would likely go unconsumed. So I got out a canning jar and lid, had Grey help me fill it half way with the cream, and we started shaking. We passed the jar around the table, shaking as we went. Finally, I was advised I should put some marbles in the jar, because the shaking didn’t seem to be agitating enough.
When Grey and I went to open the jar to add the marbles, however, voila! Apparently, when you use whipping cream, the entirety turns to butter instead of separating to buttermilk & butter. It was a ton of fun and the butter tasted delicious. So, without further ado, here’s how I’d recommend making butter (either ahead of time or the day after) with your preschooler:
1) Get a clean canning jar and lid. A tupperware container would also work. I used an 8 ounce jar.
2) Add about a cup of heavy whipping cream to the jar/container. (You should fill it about halfway.)
3) Add a small amount (half teaspoon?) of salt, assuming you like your butter salted. You can also get inventive and add other flavors, like honey, maple, cinnamon or nutmeg. This would be fun to play around with.
4) Take turns shaking. Make sure your preschooler takes lots of turns, but likely the bulk of the agitation will come from grownup arms. If you trust the seal, you can roll it around on the floor.
5) When you shake but nothing moves, the butter is done. You can then check it out. If you make it in the canning jar, you can serve it right next to your jam on Thanksgiving day!
I think I’ve mentioned this before, but blogging is really a feast-or-famine kind of thing. You have a great weekend with time enough to think and read a book, and suddenly you have like 6 posts all thought out, including a societal indictment and discussion of good bras. This after the last month where you hoarded and scrimped anecdotes in a desperate attempt to make your life sound interesting, at least to yourself.
Well, I’ve discovered that hoarding good blogging material is a little like hoarding Thanksgiving leftovers — if you don’t use them right away, they go bad. So you might as well whip up a nice tall open-faced turkey sandwich and enjoy already.
Fantastic!
This weekend was marked on the calendar as “I am Fantastic” weekend. I put it on the calendar so I would take it seriously. There are always things that need to be done, and making myself look and feel good is usually at the bottom of that list. That’s ok short term, but sometimes you need to invest in yourself in order to give as wholly to the other people who count on you. “I am Fantastic” weekend started at 1:30 at Intimacy Copley Place in Boston. I’ve spent the last 5 years pregnant, nursing, trying to get pregnant, rinse and repeat. The body changes involved in that have made any investment in undergarments a losing proposition. That time is now over, and I was ready to invest.
I figured a really good bra would cost about $50. I added $25 on to my estimates to be safe. I had trouble imagining a bra could cost more than $75. The fitting was interesting. My fitter had a zip up dress so she could model the combination she was sporting that day. (In her defense, it looked great on her 10 months post-partum self!) She sat me down and gave me the lecture on proper care of my bradrobe. (I’m not making that word up.) Then she brought out the samples. I figured I’d start with two — one that would work under anything and one that would be very, uh, appealing.
None of the bras had price tags on them. This should have clued me in that I was in over my head.
I got two bras that were — are! Fantastic. They look awesome and make me feel awesome. One is extremely comfortable, and I suspect the other will be once I break it in.
But man, I totally and completely underestimated just how much a bra could cost. I’m pretty sure if I’d been shopping in a less, uh, intensive environment I wouldn’t have bought the more expensive one. I’m pretty sure if I’d seen a price tag, I wouldn’t have tried it on in CASE I liked it as much as I ended up doing. I find myself ashamed to have paid so much for something — this is a kind of indulgence I don’t really feel comfortable with. The more expensive bra cost $180.
I walked out of the store sort of shell-shocked into this mall that takes it for granted. The beautiful people all around me were likely all wearing $200 bras and $500 shoes. I looked around and I felt like I was all wrong: my shoes are a little scuffed, my pants are not designer. I was wearing makeup (unusual for me) but we’re talking Wet-and-Wild folks. My top, which seemed pretty in the morning, seemed dowdy and unsophisticated in the glare of the marble. My favorite courduroy jacket seemed threadbare in the soft lighting. My purse is hopeless — a $20 Target creation overflowing with children’s toys and touched by white wall paint in the corner. I hugged it close to my body hoping no one would notice me. As I hunted desperately for safe ground (aka Starbucks) I hoped no one would see me or call me out or notice how wrong I was. I wondered just what criteria the numerous lurking security officers used for escorting someone out. (One hopes more than a terrible purse.) I felt like there was exactly one part of my entire self that was ok for this place: the new bra.
These environments are set up to make you feel like you are not good enough. They also try to let you know that your failings are not permanent — if you spend enough money, pay enough attention and do the right things, you might perhaps hope to walk those halls between the Prada store and Monolo Blalik with confidence that you are all right. You are presented with the false hope that this is a winnable path to being acceptable.
I choose not to play that game. I vehemently reject the premise that “good enough” has to do with the right shoes and right clothes and perfection of physical attributes. It was a with a great sigh of relief that I crossed the busy street to Back Bay T stop, to a more normal world where I’m a perfectly ok person.
Did I mention I picked up “Twilight” to read during my sojourn? I enjoyed it as I switched from the Orange to the Red line. You see, I know Forks. My father lived there for a year when I was in my late teens. A boyfriend and I on a date had once wandered our way across the Olympic Peninsula, to many of the spots mentioned. I was that love-lorn teenager wishing to be called out as special in that tiny Northwest town. The bits about the sports — Volleyball etc. — ring very true. She must’ve grown up there too. So in addition to being a fun if flippant read, it made me rather nostalgic. Thank heavens I didn’t encounter it when I was 16 or I would’ve thought that FINALLY someone UNDERSTOOD me!
Anyway, on to my next stop. I got off at Harvard Square, with fading self-consciousness, and went to DHR to get my hair cut. Dale did an amazing job — I think this is the best cut he’s ever given me. I opted not to add some clarification to a rather vehement opinion Rob held about the middle ages (see also: completely monolithic society with total control over everyone — so not possible), and switched conversation safely over to “Red Dwarf” instead (they’re huge sci-fi fans).
And I emerged looking fantastic. I went home and had dinner prepared by my husband, got the kids in bed, and finished reading Twilight in the bath.
Truly, fantastic.
Not sure if you can really see the haircut -- I should've used a better backdrop
On November 6th, I made this wise statement: After years of panicking about cooking, I’m now confident that a) there will be enough food b) I know how to cook a turkey.
Ah, hubris!
Also, this might be a good time to mention that I try very hard not to be superstitious because I do not believe in superstition. It’s totally a load of crock, in my humble opinion. Also, I TOTALLY JINXED MYSELF WITH THIS STATEMENT. That was nearly as bad as talking about a no-hitter, people.
I changed two things about how I cooked my turkey this year.
1) I bought a new pan. My old pan always stuck to the top of the turkey, and pulled flesh off when I went to baste it, and was really too small for the behemoth birds that occupy my oven on Mocksgiving day. So I saw a new, bigger pan that didn’t have a lid but did have a cool little rack thingy and I went for it.
2) I read Cook’s Illustrated. Their November edition had some neat ideas on roasting turkeys. I didn’t do the pork one only because I couldn’t find the pork. I didn’t do the brining because I’m really lazy. I didn’t do the baking powder crispy skin bit because I have a hunch that the extra oil I add is needed to make the amount of gravy I produce.
But I did try the temperature thingy. I cooked the bird at 325.
And here are the results. Glorious, no?
Quite possibly the finest-looking bird I've ever cooked
And completely underdone. The breast was done, mind. The popper thingy popped out. The temperature was right for that breast meat. But the bottom of the bird — the dark meat and thighs, etc? Totally undone. Completely.
I hadn’t flipped the bird. I’d cooked it right side up. And since the skin looked so amazing, I didn’t crank the heat up (note: I actually think that was the right call).
We had let the bird set for half an hour, as recommended, and everything was on the table when my husband started carving and we realized that we had a turkey-disaster on our hands. Thinking fast, we pulled out cookie sheets and put turkey parts on the sheets to cook that way. It actually worked out ok. And frankly, I’m not sure that anyone would’ve even noticed if I just failed to put the turkey on the table period. There were so many fantastic options that the turkey was, well, gravy. Mocksgiving was by no means ruined by the total turkey FAIL.
Additionally my gravy was also a fail. I’m good at gravy. I make gravy all the time. But the open-topped pan allowed for much greater evaporation of delicious turkey-juices, so I kept adding water to the drippings. I added too much, and it came out as weak sauce. I actually usually (shhhh) add chicken boiullion (however you spell it) to my turkey drippings when they start to percolate to increase the volume of gravy. Since it cooks with the turkey for several hours, it ends up tasting like turkey gravy. But this time, it just tasted weird. If I want to use the open pot, I’m going to need to come up with a better plan for gravy. Of course, the fact that the turkey wasn’t COOKED might also have led to a diminution in drippings and subsequence chickenosity of the gravy.
Lessons learned:
1) It’s probably a good idea to start the turkey wrong-side up and flip it halfway through
2) Wrap the entire pot in tinfoil before cooking, not just turkey, to prevent evaporation
3) Maybe cook a larger turkey at 350 instead of 325.
I’m actually half-tempted to make a turkey on Thanksgiving just to tinker and figure out what I did wrong. (I can hear you saying “WHAT? Thanksgiving IS turkey day!” Not for me. If I can’t cadge an invite to a Thanksgiving dinner someone else cooked, Thanksgiving is likely to be a pizza night.) Also, the turkey and gravy didn’t come out well. This means NO HOT TURKEY SANDWICHES FOR ME. This, friends, is completely unacceptable.
As an additional Mocksgiving note, I made this Cranberry sauce ahead of time. More than 50% of my motivation was that I’d previously made pomegranate molasses for a recipe I didn’t end up making and it was lurking in the ‘fridge making me feel guilty. This was a fantastic make-ahead dish. It tasted excellent and looked amazing. If you need to bring a dish to a Thanksgiving, I’d heartily recommend this one. I doubled this recipe, and really. Don’t double it. All 28 of us having a serving barely made a dent in it.
