June 25, 2013

  • And another move!

    I’ve been feeling a little cramped and unhappy with xanga for quite some time, and now seems as good a time as any to make a change.

    Also, we’re neither homeschooling nor pursuing our doctorates any more.  So, again, change seems appropriate.

    So, Homeschooling the Doctorate is now moving to a new website with a new name: Some Ordinary Readers.  Please consider bookmarking, following, downloading a feed, subscribing, or however-it-is one follows blogs nowadays (if one still does that).

    There will be boxes everywhere for quite some time as we get adjusted to the new webplace.  But hopefully you can still come over for a cuppa and a little chat.

June 21, 2013

  • Moved!

    We’re here.

    We’re only mostly buried under boxes.

    No major appliances yet.

    But we finally have internet!

    See you soon . . .

June 4, 2013

  • Moving, Moving, Moving . . .

    . . . packing for the moving, boXES!!

    Yes, we’re all getting a little punchy here.  Maybe we actually started packing too early.

    I think we’re in better shape than we were last time.  Maybe even the last two times.  But there’s more to do.

    Fortunately, there’s always Theo.  I don’t know whether to thank him for weeding the garden or for bringing me flowers!

June 1, 2013

  • Toe Food.

    Okay, now you probably won’t eat it.  But that’s what my kids call it, thanks to a Theophilized pronunciation about three years ago.

    But if I tell you that they all fight over who gets the last piece of “toe food,” will you try it then?

    So, here’s how I make tofu that my kids fight over:

    I usually use extra-firm tofu.  I cut it up into whatever-sized pieces I like, and I place the pieces between several layers of paper towels.

    Then I put a flat, heavy weight on it.

    . . . adding extra weight if necessary.

    While it’s being pressed, I get the ingredients for the glaze.

    I usually use something salty, something sweet, and something to make it interesting.  This time, that happened to be soy, mirin, and miso, but I’m also a big fan of soy, pineapple juice, and garlic.

    I use only about an ounce or two of each.  (No more than an ounce of soy–otherwise it’ll be inedibly salty.)  Sometimes I remember to add minced ginger, too.

    So, after the tofu has been pressed for a few minutes,  . . .

    . . . it looks pretty much exactly like it did before.  It’s not even all that much flatter.  But it is drier, and that’s a good thing, since I’ll be frying it in hot oil.

    This is one of the few things I prefer to use a non-stick pan for.

    I heat up the oil (I use a good bit–maybe a quarter cup?) and put the pressed tofu pieces in a single layer (this is important).

    I give it a little shake every minute or so, to make sure the tofu doesn’t stick.  It is extremely splattery, even if you’ve carefully dried it off, so I 1) don’t let the kids “help” with this one, and 2) don’t cook this on a day after Stephen mops the kitchen floor.

    Tofu is like pancakes–you only flip it once.

    Once the pieces get good and golden on the one side, flip them all over.

    Still in single layers, see?  And I still do that little shake-the-pan thing to keep it from sticking.

    And then when that side is golden, too, I add the glaze.

    It gets bubbly pretty fast.

    I don’t worry about flipping the pieces to get both sides coated.  I just give the pan a little shake until the pieces are coated.

    Soon–three or four minutes, tops–the liquid will be reduced to a glaze-type consistency.  You have to pull the pan off the heat as soon as it gets there, otherwise you’ll very quickly find yourself with a gloppy, ugly goop that doesn’t make anyone happy.

    And then it’s ready to serve!

    You could serve it with, like, double-bacon-cheese fries and ranch dressing, but I think people usually aim for a healthier meal when they cook tofu.  I went with roasted broccoli and a nut pilaf.

    I’m not saying it gotten eaten faster than cheese fries and ranch, but it did get gobbled respectably quickly.

May 31, 2013

May 28, 2013

  • I Have Measured Out My Life In Moving Boxes . . .

    I’ve, um, . . . well, I’ve actually lost count of the boxes.

    Not because there’s really all that many of them.  (My guess is 47.)  I just don’t have the energy to figure out exactly how many boxes are tucked in the back there, behind all the other boxes.

    Anyway, let’s call it 47.

    47 boxes down, 13 days to go!

May 25, 2013

May 21, 2013

May 20, 2013

  • Happy Pentecost!

    Red Velvet cake batter really is the most lurid and unappetizing shade of red.

    And my skills with marzipan won’t get me an invitation to Cupcake Wars any time soon.

    But the kids seemed to like their Pentecost cupcakes.

    Next year, I should make the Flaming Tongues of Fire out of moldable chocolate, with lots and lots of cayenne pepper.

May 18, 2013

  • Panic Button

    “Mommy, can you come fix the download part?”
    “What?”
    “My LeapPad isn’t downloading.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “I just bought some games, and they aren’t downloading.”
    What?
    “I bought four games, and none of them are working.”
    Four games?
    “Stretchy Monkey 2 (because I already have Stretchy Monkey 1), Dinosaur Invasion, Dinosaur Invasion 2, Sugar Bugs 1 and Sugar Bugs 2.”
    “Theo, that’s five games!”
    “Oh.  Sorry.  Five, not four.”
    Theo, did you just spend eighty dollars on LeapPad games?!”
    “Yeah, I needed more games.  But they’re not downloading.  Can you come fix that?”
    HOW?!?!?
    “Well, I just clicked on the button that said, ‘Add to cart,’ and then the one that said, ‘Complete this tralacket.”
    IT’S TRANSACTION!!!!!
    “Oh.  Transaction.”
    [later]
    “Okay, Theo, it looks like you didn’t buy any games.”
    “Aw.” :pout:
    “Theo, that’s very good news for you, because if you had, you’d be in big trouble.”
    “But . . . but . . .”
    Theo.  If you ever try to buy games without permission again, I’m throwing your LeapPad in the garbage.”
    “Yes ma’am.  But . . . but . . .” [crying]
    “NO BUTS.  You just tried to steal our money.  When you use someone’s money without permission for yourself, it’s called STEALING.”
    (“Uh, Mom, technically it’s embezzling.”
    “Isaac, go find your brain.  You left it somewhere again.”)
    “But, Mommy [bawling] . . . that’s our money.  It’s not just yours.  It’s the family’s!”

    Why did I ever teach these people how to speak?