When the trip is over, but you don’t want to leave.

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I’ve been away from home since October 25th and have yet to write anything about it here. So, yeah. My bad. But on the upside, I’ve now got a big ‘ol backlog of stories to share! So get ready for a cascade of posts over the next week. Woo!

But right now, there is only one thing I could possibly write about, and that’s the fact that in just over an hour I will be leaving Iceland. And I am so insanely miserable about it that I hardly know what to do with myself. I don’t think I’ve ever been so upset to leave a place in my entire life.

This past summer, I spent over a month in Europe. I was hopping around here and there, mostly for work (and my work is fun, so also for fun). And when I had to fly back to Seattle, I was distraught. Why did I have to leave??? But then, just a few weeks later, I got the wonderful news that I was going to move to Amsterdam because my job warranted it, so I spent the rest of the summer riding this sensational high. Finally! This thing I’ve wanted for ages is finally coming true. I get to move to Amsterdam and be the European I always wanted to be!

And yet, the past two days have been this unbelievably intense internal struggle, during which I legitimately considered quitting my super awesome job and staying in Iceland forever. Even though I’m about to move to Amsterdam. Even though I want to move to Amsterdam. Even though I love my job. All of these things were trumped by the fact that I want nothing more to stay in Iceland FOREVER.

It’s weird how these things happen. I still haven’t quite processed the last 9 days, during which about 40 million amazing things happened. I met some incredible people. I saw 41 shows over 5 days at a music festival. I hiked on a glacier. I stayed out until 6am like a college kid and partied my ass off. And I met more, and more, and MORE cool people every day. People I wish I could see every day, but of course they live all over the world.

And now I have to leave it all behind.

I know it wouldn’t be the same if I stayed. I know I wouldn’t continue to have the same experience I’m having now. There’s something about a trip being finite that makes it so much more enjoyable. But I still can’t shake the feeling that I found something here. I found something I haven’t found before, and I really don’t want it to go away. I can’t put my finger on it yet, but I am not the same person I was when I arrived here. Perhaps after a bit of time and reflection, I’ll figure out what happened over the past week. But for now, all I know is that I’m different, and different in a good way.

There are so many more things to share about this trip, but for now I need to get on a plane and mope for the 8-hour flight home. But it’s ok. Sometimes it’s important to be sad. Even more important if something positive comes of it. And I’m pretty sure it will.

Thank you, Iceland, for making me better than I was. I’ll never forget it.

The dangerous art of biking and beering.

Ah, day drinking. It really is one of the greatest pastimes on earth.

Yesterday I went on a biking and beer-drinking adventure with my friend Chris. Because what’s more fun than riding your bike around Seattle and drinking beer at craft breweries on the weekend?

Things started poorly when I decided to take us to a brewery that doesn’t exist. #winning

Somehow, Chris decided I was still trustworthy enough to follow me a second time, and we actually began our drinking adventure at Peddler Brewing Co. This turned out to be a stellar choice for our first stop. At 1:30pm, the place was not particularly full yet, so we sat at the bar and shot the shit with the bartenders, both of whom were awesome Midwestern transplants who enjoyed making fun of each other and talking to us instead of serving the other customers. They seemed to think we were pretty cool, because we ended up with a free beer as well!

IMG_2544We tried the two IPAs they had on draft: I had the On Your Left IPA, and Chris had the Tropic Thunder IPA. Both were delicious, but mine was better. Christina 1, Chris 0. Haha!

(This wasn’t actually a competition. But now I’m excited about making this a competition after the fact. Pretty sure I’m going to lose though.)

The adventure could very well have ended there, because despite the fact that I told myself I would photo-document the entire afternoon, this is the only photo I took. So I think I lose a point for that. Back to 0-0. Sigh.

Somehow, though, the adventure continued. For some unknown reason, Chris allowed me to lead the charge again to our next stop: Lucky Envelope Brewing. This brewery has only been open since May, so neither of us had been there before. Hurrah, new things!

lucky_envelope_1(I stole this photo from the internet!)

This time we were lame and both ordered the Fresh Hop Citra Pale Ale, because ’tis the season and soon the fresh hops will be gone. It was good, but not amazing. We both get a half point for effort. Or something.

Next stop was Reuben’s Brews, which is hands down one of my favorite breweries in Seattle. They have a new-ish taproom that is pretty sweet, and we were joined by Laura and Juanse, who are super cool people who ride bikes a lot and are basically just the most fun to hang out with. We also needed food, and there is always a food truck at Reuben’s, hence the decision to go there. Saturday’s food truck was called Napkin Friends, and it was insane.

Ok, so I know this post is supposed to be about beer. But can I just talk about this food truck for a minute? HOLY YUM. I am actually having trouble writing about it right now because I’m beginning to drool all over my keyboard just thinking about this sandwich. (Ok, I know, that’s kind of gross. But if you’ve ever read my blog you’ll know that I often discuss my overt drooling habits when talking about delicious things. So you might as well get used to it. Or don’t, what do I care?)

a8d37bc7ccb6c018efa36b9be4950f15For those of you who didn’t click on that link and are still reading this, here’s the deal: this sandwich doesn’t have any bread. Sounds crazy, right? But no, because it’s AMAZING. Instead of bread, there are latkes. Yes. Potato pancakes. Delicious potato goodness. Two of them, hugging the contents of the sandwich with such care and joy that your taste buds legitimately can’t contain themselves anymore, and once you bite into the sandwich you’re transported to a world where bread no longer matters, because fuck normal sandwiches, THIS IS LITERALLY MAGICAL.

[Sorry. I need a moment to breathe. And by that, I mean WINE BREAK. You know, to calm my nerves.]

Ok. ANYWAY. Back to business. And by business, I mean beer!

Reuben’s Brews is a wonderful spot, and they have a lot of beer. It’s pretty impressive. We’re now at a point in the afternoon where I started losing track of shit, so I don’t entirely remember what we were all drinking. I know I had an Imperial Pumpkin Ale of some sort. I think Laura and Chris both had a Dark Lager. I don’t remember what Juanse ordered, because by then I was a) slightly drunk and b) absorbed in the really intense social/political/real-life-shit conversation we were having. Which, of course, I have little memory of now. Woohoo!

Oh, and as for points, I get points for drinking the strongest beer at the table. So Christina 1.5, Chris 0.5. YES!

So things get a bit shitty here because it started to rain. So, summoning my tipsy authority, I convinced Chris to go back to Peddler for another beer instead of riding all the way home in the rain. He was clearly not entirely on board with the idea, but ultimately he admitted (after the fact) that it was a GREAT IDEA and I am a genius. (He didn’t say that. He did say it was a good idea though. But only afterwards.)

So I get a point for being right (woo!) but Chris gets 2 for putting up with me. So we’re now tied at 2.5 each. Damn.

The return to Peddler is mostly a blur. We sat there for a while, but the place was filled with Ohio State fans and I didn’t really understand what was happening. I also took far too long to drink my beer. So I lose a half point.

Christina 2, Chris 2.5. Shit.

At this point it was definitely time to go home. Both of us had uphill rides ahead of us. But seeing as Chris had to go at least 2 miles farther than I did, he gets an extra point. Christina 2, Chris 3.5.

Well crap. I lost. Damn!

Wait, no. That can’t be right. I went out day-drinking for 5 hours and rode my bike and was super cool and CLEARLY this means I am a winner. Yes. (Chris might be more of a winner, but he’s not here to defend himself so HA!)

And so, dear friends, the moral of the story is that I drank a lot, I biked a lot, and I won. Because that’s just a fact.

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[Next time, on Christina’s Adventures in Drinking: That time I was forced to drink fruit beer in London.]

It’s time to stop being an asshole.

In February, I wrote this post about the fact I was too drunk in January to write a blog post. At the time, that was mostly true.

But now, I’m going to tell you the real and honest truth.

I’m an asshole.

Seriously. I kept saying I’d write more, and then I didn’t. And I kept saying I was sorry (and actually, I was). But then I didn’t do anything about it. I kept saying that I promised it would be different, I promised I’d change, I knew I needed to improve and I really, truly wanted to! But I didn’t.

I’m literally the worst significant other you’ve ever had.

So here’s where the truth comes out: I’m a jerk. And I cannot promise that I won’t be a jerk again in the future. BUT, this time, I’m actually going to try and do better. And here’s why:

In January, I am moving. Not just moving. MOVING. Like, I am leaving this country and moving to a different one. AMERICA, BE GONE. I’m gonna become a full blown European asshole. (Not that all Europeans are assholes. They are not. But I’m an asshole, and now instead of being an American asshole, I’ll be a European one. Whoopeee!)

So why does this change the blog situation? you might ask. (Or you might not. Which is fair, cuz I suck and why should you care?)

Well, I realized I am going to have good stories. Because in putting myself in a completely foreign and crazy life situation, I’m bound to have ridiculous adventures and do stupid things. And, well, writing about it will somehow ground me and make me feel connected to all of you who aren’t in Europe with me.

Yes, I am feeling mildly sentimental at the moment. And I’ve also consumed about 3/4 of a bottle of red wine. BUT I PROMISE I SPEAK THE TRUTH.

I’ve actually got some good stories already from this past summer, and I know there are more to come. For instance, I have a vacation planned next month in Iceland, and apparently buying groceries there is hilarious. So I’m pretty pumped to do that and tell y’all about it. Because why not? I don’t actually give a fuck if you read this or not.

(Ok I do. I’m trying to make myself feel better, ok? Life on the internet is lonely.)

But for reals. I do want to stay in touch, and this seems like the best way. Sure, maybe you won’t know about everything I do, but most of what I do revolves around booze and food, so you’ll get a pretty decent picture. No, this won’t be a travel blog, per se. But for some drunken traveler out there, maybe it’ll be the right blog.

Love to you all. More to come soon. And this time, I’m not kidding.

But first, I gotta go finish that wine.

Too Drunk for January

Guys, January is over. In fact, February is almost over too. WHAT HAPPENED???

Instead of looking back and realizing that I was simply too busy with work to remember January, I am fabricating a new story: I was simply too drunk to remember January!

Now, in order for this crazy story to make any sense, I’ll have to go back in time a little bit. Basically, it all started over Christmas when I went to DC to visit my parents and my dad fed me a lot of beer. (This is generally what happens when I go home. My father is an enabler who says things like, “You know, you really shouldn’t drink so much,” while pouring me a glass of 11% abv beer. Hypocrite.)

When I arrived home just before midnight on December 23rd, I assumed my dad would be asleep (his bedtime is like 10pm). But apparently he had been waiting for me to arrive, just to have an excuse to open a bottle of Trappistes Rochefort 10. Belgian Quad. 11.3% abv. Holy. Hell. I have the best father on the planet.

So then, the next day was Christmas Eve, followed by Christmas (duh). During those days, much craft beer was consumed.

Also wine.

Oh, and scotch. ALL OF THE SCOTCH.

And then–because we hadn’t had enough–on December 26th we went and visited some breweries!

The first stop was Heavy Seas Brewing, which was honestly only OK in my book. Their IPA and Lager and Pale were really just average beers. Not bad, mind you, but nothing to write home about either.

But then there was the Porter. Oh man. They make a damn good porter. My dad ended up buying a 6-pack of Peg Leg, and 2 of the bottles ended up coming home with me. Because my dad is the best.

After that, we went and did the brewery tour at Flying Dog Brewery. YES. First of all, this is one of my favorite microbreweries. They make incredible beer. Damn. Second, the tour was actually FUN! I’ve been on so many brewery tours and they’re basically all the same. But this one was unique! I got to drink wort, which was super weird (and sweet and yummy!). I got to watch them bottle (in action!) and we saw their crazy science lab. And on top of all of that, Hunter S. Thompson was best buds with the founder so the walls are covered with weird shit like this:

Also, the guy who led the tour was this amazing, bearded, goofy, nerdy beer man with a super weird streak and awesome sense of humor. Because of him, I have decided that my future husband must be a brewer. So yeah, I’m now taking applications. Holler.

We tried like 15 beers between the 3 of us after the tour, and I was super drunk and incredibly happy. And then, just 2 days later, we went to another beer bar and had a sumptuous dinner with beer pairings. Fantabulous.

Basically, I spent a week in DC getting drunk on amazing beer with my parents.

So when I got home, the only way I could even begin to imagine celebrating New Years was with fantastic beer. So I went and bought some fantastic beer at my favorite bottle shop and headed over to a friend’s place, where we proceeded to drink said fantastic beer and play lots of Jenga.

And then I just couldn’t stop! I was just drinking beer for weeks straight! (That’s an exaggeration, but I was drinking quite a lot of beer. Completely against my father’s instructions.)

One of the more amazing beers was called Stochasticity Project: Master of Disguise by Stone Brewing. It’s a golden stout. By that I mean, it looks like a golden ale. But it tastes like a stout. IT WAS MIND-BLOWING. Confusing and delicious.

And then I drank a fantastic beer that I brought back from the Netherlands last summer: Bitch Black Saison by Brouwerij De Molen. It tasted like a fucking campfire. In the best way imaginable. Somehow, despite how smoky it was, it went down so smooth that I probably could’ve consumed it all night long.

And then I went to LA, and things got super crazy:

Indeed, that is a trunk full of boxed wine.

(Full disclosure: I drank none of that. It was, oddly enough, for a work thing. And we gave it all away. So I didn’t drink any boxed wine, but I got several hundred people super drunk on boxed wine that weekend. Huzzah!)

And then I went to Europe! Amsterdam, Bruges, Gent, and London. London was a bit of a bust beer-wise (I did drink quite a lot of gin though). But you can bet your ass I drank a shitload of beer in Holland and Belgium. Oh yah. You betcha.

There was some of this:

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 And some of this:

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And my particular favorite, this:

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I mean, can we just take a moment and talk about how awesome that label is? Brouwerij ‘t IJ is an incredible brewery and they make fantastic beer. The one above, for example, is an IPA brewed in the American west coast style. So, of course, I’m pretty obsessed with it. (It’s fucking delicious.)

That photo was taken in an awesome bar in Amsterdam, which had fun stuff on the walls like this:

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So yeah. That was my January! I spent much of it either on the road or drunk. Or both. Wheeee!

February has been less travel, and a bit less beer. But I got crazy and bought a bunch of beers last week, including Ballast Point’s Grapefruit Sculpin IPA, which is SO DELICIOUS IT’S LIKE CANDY. I can’t stop.

And tomorrow….17 mile bike ride to a brewery??? I must be a crazy person.

Hope your 2015 is starting out as successfully (drunk) as mine!

Apparently I’m a liar.

Last time I posted, I said I’d post every Friday about the 5 new beers I tried each week.

Instead, I haven’t posted in over 2 months. Oops.

You know when you actually intend to do something, but then life kind of gets to you and bites you in the ass? And suddenly it feels like everything has gone horribly awry? Yeah. That was most of October and November.

But you know what? It’s not a big deal! All is well, and despite the fact that I’ve been horrible about sharing my stories, I’ve done a fair amount of awesome drinking over the past few months.

Right now, for instance. I’m drinking this amazing beer called Victory at Sea, by Ballast Point Brewing.

Screen Shot 2014-12-20 at 22.57.53First of all, it’s 10% abv. (And FYI, I’m on my 2nd one. And that’s after a 22oz of a different winter beer. So, suffice it to say, I’m drunk. #winning)

Second, the food pairings include pulled pork, mole, and chocolate cake. This beer is out to kill you…with all the most delicious things you can think of (including coffee, which is IN the beer).

So, of course, I love this beer. It feels like a battle, tastes like magic, and makes me feel sooooo gooooooooood.

I could babble on about that, but I could also tell you about this other cool thing I did…which involved being in Banff National Park (whoa) and drinking the best black pilsner I’ve ever had. To be fair, I wasn’t entirely aware black pilsner was a thing. But I knew about black lagers and black IPAs, and I love both of those things. And this black pilsner. Hell. It fucking blew me away.

In fact, it blew me away so much that I returned to the brewery again just one day later and bought two bottles to bring home with me. (Side note: Canadian border patrol thinks I’m some sort of loony because I travel alone so much. So every time I lie about how much beer is in my vehicle/luggage, I’m always a tad concerned that they’ll search me and discover I’m lying, and then I’ll get the real Canadian border treatment. Which is probably really boring.)

But before I even got to border patrol, there was yet another awesome drinking experience to be had!

After nearly dying* in the mountains driving from Banff to Vancouver, I made it to my hotel (yes, HOTEL, not hostel, which is where I’d been in Banff). So I got my OWN ROOM with a BIG BED and it was so fucking magical. I got in around 6pm and was so spent from the 9-hour driving trauma that I almost just went to sleep immediately.

But NO. I’m in fucking Vancouver for one night, I have to do SOMETHING at least.

So I went out to the best cocktail bar in the city.

L’Abbatoir is one of the many cocktail bars that is recommended by the “interwebs” when you’re in Vancouver. But it’s the only one where the mixologist is actually mentioned by name in articles. That’s the sign, folks. If they actually name their mixologist, he/she must be really good.

So I went there. And I met Sean. And Sean is, in fact, very good at making cocktails.

I was lucky enough to sit at the bar, and even luckier because Sean was training a new bartender. So not only did I get to watch him mix drinks, I got to watch him explain in detail how to do it, and why they are made a certain way. I was secretly taking notes. Because I’m a thief.

Ok, not really, I was just taking mental notes. But it was sweet! And Sean seemed super cool. Plaid shirt and beard, which is just basically the mixologist tell here in the PNW. And he was smart and had a ton of friends visiting him, and he made a goofy/adorable joke when I tried to ask him a question. All in all, I give him an A.

He did tell me where to go in Seattle (which is the question I ended up asking). He mentioned Tavern Law (he borrowed one of their recipes, as is mentioned in their menu) and Canon (amazeballs) and ZigZag. That’s the one I hadn’t been to, so I told him I’d be sure to check it out. He told me I definitely should, and if I do, I should say hi to Paul.

WIN. I have an in. New mixologist friendship is imminent.

Basically, after having 2 drinks at L’Abbatoir (both of which were magnificent) and meeting Sean (super cool and friendly) and talking to two of his friends (also cool, one of which I want to BE someday), I’ve decided I need a mixologist friend.

I mean, I also need a beer friend.

But mixologists are rad, yo!

Anyway. That’s all I got for now. I’m rather drunk. And despite my ramblings, I have yet to make a mixologist friend, so I need to do that. New years resolution: make mixologist friend. Also, beer. Yeah. All the things.

2014 was the year of ME. (As self-pronounced by myself and my roommate.)

2015 will be the year of…mixologist friend-making? I should probably think about this some more.

Yup. That’s all. Too drunk to keep talking to the internet.

 

*I wish that my “nearly dying” statement were an exaggeration, but it’s not. I actually almost died a few times on those roads. Me in a small sedan (rental) with no snow tires in the middle of a blizzard = me losing control of my vehicle more times than I’d like to count. Were it not for the fact that I a) didn’t panic and b) am a pretty good driver, I might not be here to share this story today. Special thanks to the truck driver who watched me spin out for 15 seconds, because he seemed concerned (from what I could tell in my rear-view) and I’d like to think he would have tried to save me had I gone off the edge of the cliff.

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[Next time, on Christina’s drunk adventures: I go visit my parents! And I bring them crazy-high ABV beer! And my dad inevitably gets me drunk and feeds me lots of Scotch! Yay!]

 

[Five Beer Friday] Hopped up on freshies

Oh hey friends. This past week I made an incredibly important decision. It’s going to completely change my life. For reals. Ready? Here goes.

Every week, I am determined to try 5 new beers.

WHOA.

Ok, that’s not actually all that difficult. It simply means that every time I go have a beer with a friend, I need to try something I haven’t had. And in Seattle, that’s fairly easy to do. There’s new beer everywhere all the time!

So, each Friday, I will post about my 5 new beers. I’ll do my best to describe them to you all, but keep in mind that a) I’m often drunk when I’m drinking, and therefore not great at taking notes and b) sometimes I’m with friends so I’m awkwardly taking notes under the table and pretending I’m not, so when I look back at them they’re completely incomprehensible or illegible.

But whatever. I’m still gonna do this.

So, without further adieu, my inaugural Five Beer Friday post commences!

Week 1 – October 2nd-9th

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This week was dominated by fresh hop beer season. And that’s pretty much the best. I freaking LOVE me some fresh hops. Here’s what I tried:

1) Amarillo Fresh Hop IPA – Backwoods Brewing [October 3rd, Chuck’s Hop Shop]

This was a lovely brew. Quite mild, in fact! Hoppy (of course), but not nearly as bitter as many fresh hop ales. It was bright and a tad wheat-y. Very drinkable! (Perhaps too much so…) 6.4% abv and 30 IBUs

2) Hop Gusher FH ISA – Worthy Brewing [October 3rd, Chuck’s Hop Shop]

This one was much hoppier than the previous one I tried. Meridian as opposed to Amarillo hops. It was bitter, but mildly so (didn’t dry out your tongue or anything). Despite being so hoppy, it also had a lot of grain flavor to it, which was interesting. And a tad of sweetness, kind of as an afterthought. 5.1% abv and 57 IBUs

3) Citra Fresh Hop – pFriem Family Brewing [October 7th, The Pine Box]

Man, do I love me some pFriem beers. This was just fantastic. Bright and floral, tasted like a meadow! It was so easy to drink with an incredible hops aroma on the nose. 5.5% abv and 35 IBUs

4) Hop Trip FH Pale Ale – Deschutes Brewing [October 7th, The Pine Box]

This was a hops collision! Nugget, Centennial, and Crystal hops combined to make this a super bright pale. But not at all bitter, considering all the hoppiness in that glass. A tad more grainy than the Citra from pFriem, but very drinkable and light. 5.4% abv and 38 IBUs

5) Protege FH – 10 Barrel Brewing [October 7th, The Pine Box]

Unfortunately by this point I was pretty drunk, so I have terrible notes. In fact, all they say is: “I’ve already had 2 beers, so it’s hard to know…” Not sure what I was trying to tell myself there. BUT, this was all Crystal hops and I remember liking it, so that’s nice. It’s an English Bitter style, but with the fresh hops in there you almost couldn’t tell. 4.5% abv and 25 IBUs

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So there you have it! My 5 beers for this week. I also recently drank a few other fresh hop beers, so here’s the quick and dirty list:

  • Fresh Hop Citra IPA (Breakside Brewery)
  • Fresh Hop Vortex IPA (Fort George Brewery) — best FH ale I had all season
  • Fresh Hop Amarillo IPA (Schooner Exact Brewing Company)

[Next Week on Christina’s Beer Adventures: PUMPKIN BEERS. The season is here.]

[Drunk Baking] Adorable Apple Cake

On Sunday afternoon, I got drunk and made an apple cake. It also happened to be super adorable. Here is the story of how the adorable apple cake came to be.

October 5th. The Un-Live Blog.

3:22pm – Open a beer. Drink it. Gotta warm up your drinking muscles and relax your cooking muscles. #science

3:46pm – Open beer #2. Time to start cooking!

4:01pm – Spend far too long cutting apples. Blegh.

4:02pm – Drink a bunch of beer.

4:07pm – Quick clean up. Drink more beer because you’re too sober. Restrain yourself from eating the apples that are now coated in sugar and lemon juice.

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4:17pm – Halfway through beating the batter. Arms are tired. Need more beer.

4:21pm – Seriously, why are you drinking your beer so slowly?

4:28pm – Finish beating batter. Lick the beaters. Chase with beer.

4:29pm – Dance break!

4:35pm – Beat those eggs whites! Listen to “Beat It” as you do so.

4:40pm – OMG THE BATTER IS DONE.

4:42pm – OMG this cake is going to be amazing.

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4:45pm – In the oven! Eat remaining batter off the spoon. Finish beer.

4:49pm – Beer #3!

4:50pm – Dance break.

4:55pm – Dishes break.

4:58pm – Dishes are done!

5:00pm – Cake smells amazing. Still 20 minutes to wait. TORTURE.

5:01pm – Distract yourself by doing something else in the kitchen.

5:05pm – Successfully quarter an acorn squash. This has nothing to do with cake. Also, it only took 4 minutes. DAMNIT.

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5:07pm – Continue drinking beer and dancing around the living room.

5:12pm – OMG HOW HAS IT ONLY BEEN 5 MINUTES. I am too impatient right now. I blame the beer.

5:13pm – Drink beer. Again. Because what else are you going to do?

5:17pm – 2 MINUTES LEFT.

5:20pm – TIMER WENT OFF OMG IT’S DONE.

5:20pm – Shit, no it’s not. DAMNIT.

5:20pm – Set timer for 5 more minutes. Glumly drink more beer.

5:21pm – Beer is awesome!

5:26pm – THE CAKE IS DONE. Look how adorable it is!

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5:27pm – Allow cake to cool. Try to figure out how to edit a video. Fail completely. Drink more beer.

5:35pm – ROOMMATE IS HOME! Yay! Now I can actually do something productive with that acorn squash…

[At this point, hours pass. I do, in fact, cook the acorn squash. My roomie and I also make salmon and kale. We be fancy. We eat dinner. I drink about half a bottle of wine. The drunkenness continues. Dinner is delicious. And then cake-time continues.]

8:49pm – CAKE. (Suddenly I have remembered that cake happened earlier.)

8:50pm – Make honey glaze for cake.

8:51pm – Honey glaze is done! (Yeah, it’s basically just slightly-warmed honey. Whatevs.)

8:52pm – Glaze cake.

8:53pm – THIS CAKE IS BEAUTIFUL.IMG_20141005_210914

8:48pm – My roommate and I then proceed to devour said cake. And by devour I mean we each have a small slice that we eat very delicately with a fork. Because we are classy like that. (I mean, we just had salmon + squash + kale for dinner. We be classy folk here in Seattle.)

Ok, I’m pretty drunk. Umm. Yep.

OH. Right. Recipe. If you want it, I stole it from Smitten Kitchen. Cuz she’s pretty much the best. You can find it here!

And now I have no more to say. Happy Sunday!

I discovered yet another alcoholic beverage that I enjoy!

Success! Drinking! Hurrah!

A few weekends ago, I discovered that I love cider. I had no idea! It’s pretty damn exciting. Because now there is YET ANOTHER THING that I enjoy drinking. And it has alcohol in it! Just like all my other favorite things!

Life is good 🙂

That Friday afternoon, I attended the Seattle Cider Summit. It was pretty great. I got to try 8 new ciders, talked to some hilarious Canadians, and enjoyed the sunshine. Also, cupcakes! At the end of the summit, I couldn’t help by buy a bottle of cider to bring home.

All in all, it was a successful afternoon.

THEN, on Saturday, I went to the grand opening of Schilling Cider in Fremont! They were giving away free growlers! Unfortunately the growlers were empty (womp womp) but I filled mine with delicious dry-hopped cider. And I also ordered a glass of cider to drink. It was only 11am! Best Saturday ever!

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When I got home at 2pm, I figured I’d probably wait until the next day to crack open my growler. I had plans that evening, I didn’t want to overdo it. But no. I couldn’t wait.

I opened the growler at 4pm.

Solid choice.

And then on Sunday, I finished the growler (with some help, of course, from my lovely roommate).

Since then, I’ve been on a cider kick. It never used to be my jam. (When you drink too much Woodchuck in college, you tend to believe all cider is sugary and gross like that.) But it’s not! Cider is amazing! Dry-hopped ciders are like a magical mix between dry champagne and beer. Berry ciders taste like juice. And barrel-aged ciders straight up taste like whiskey. Incredible.

And so, on that note, I’m off drink more cider. Because it’s 2pm on a Saturday and what else do I have to do today?

When your wine does the talking

You know those times when you come home and suddenly that bottle of wine on your counter starts talking to you?

No? Just me?

This afternoon, I left work early to go to the Seattle Cider Summit. Doesn’t that sound fancy?? I mean, it’s sort of fancy. Cider is basically the thing you drink when you’re like “today I’m feeling fancy and want something other than beer, but I’m not fancy enough for champagne.” That’s exactly what it’s like. Seriously.

[The point is, it wasn’t really a “summit” because that is an important meeting between heads of state or something, and this was more just a bunch of casual Seattle folk getting drunk on cider.]

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Photo stolen from Twitter, specifically @seattlebeernews

 

Disirregardless, it was super fun, and it was a damn good excuse to leave my office at 3pm. So I drank a bunch of cider. Here is a bullet-point recap:

  • Apple cider is far better than pear cider. I have done the testing. Trust me.
  • Sometimes brewing cider with hops makes it taste super duper amazing.
  • Dry cider is always the better choice.
  • If you can barrel-age your cider, you probably should do that. (OMG bourbon)
  • Some men who make hard cider are incredibly attractive.
  • People from Alberta, Canada are really awesome.
  • I love dogs.

I tried 8 ciders, I bought 1 bottle, and then I came home and planned to do very little with my evening. Some leftovers for dinner, maybe a beer, watch The Daily Show…

And then the wine started talking.

Oh god.

What do I do??

I cannot possibly resist its advances. It’s basically the most effective pickup line on earth. And by “it” I mean the wine itself. By simply being the wine, it is automatically more successful than pretty much any pickup line I have ever heard.

(Note to all men: If you want to succeed at picking me up, become a bottle of wine. OR make me lamb chops and enjoy my use of the word “segue.”)

The point is, I am immune to many things. Especially horrific pickup lines (like the one where the guy saw me texting at a party and asked me if I could recommend a service provider to him…worst ice-breaker in history).

BUT. I am not immune to wine. Nope. The wine on my counter looked at me, and in the sultriest voice an inanimate object can muster, it said “Hey baby. I’ve been sitting here for 2 days. There’s only a few glasses left in me. Liberate me, baby. I know you want to.”

*SWOOOOOOOOOON*

Yeah. That’s right. I just got turned on by that bottle of wine. It fucking worked.

And now I’m drunk. And it’s awesome.

Happy Friday ❤

The Pain au Chocolat Challenge was a RAGING SUCCESS

That’s right. SUCCESS. I fucking owned the shit out of that challenge.

I WON.

You want to know why I won? Because I ate 5 pains au chocolat in like, 24 hours. That might be the definition of #winning. Yeah, I’m fucking Charlie Sheen-ing this bitch.

Alright, sorry for the profanity. I’ve had too much wine. (Wine!!)

Anyway. For those of you who don’t remember, at the very end of July I embarked upon the best challenge ever challenged to any challenger ever. (This is false. Also, I created the challenge myself, and then somehow ended up doing it. I think the whole thing may have been an excuse for me to eat a lot of chocolate croissants.)

THE POINT IS. I was supposed to eat 5 pains au chocolat in one day. The catch? Each chocolate croissant had to come from a different country.

Technically, I failed, because a) France had run out of pains au chocolat so I had to “fashion my own” and b) all the bakeries were closed when we got to Switzerland at 10pm, so I had to do it the next morning.

BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER. Because it was fucking epic and I recorded it for all eternity on Instagram and, oh, you know, had a fucking CAMERA CREW following me throughout. Because, yes, I am a baller.

Need I say more?