Captain Tom, take note, post cruise: no more m and m's on the boat, they roll into places and melt. Here's a better idea:
Wrap 6 cookies in clear cellophane with a pretty holiday bow... et voilà! A gift with Paris origins that anyone would love. The recipe makes 48 cookies.
Pierre Hermé Chocolate Chip Cookies~
2 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
2/3 cup unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 sticks plus 6 tablespoons (11 ounces) unsalted butter, softened
1 cup light brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar
2 1/2 teaspoons fleur de sel
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
10 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped into 1/4-inch pieces (2 cups)
In
a medium bowl, sift the flour with the cocoa and baking soda. In a
large bowl, cream the butter. Add the brown sugar, granulated sugar,
fleur de sel and vanilla and beat until combined. Beat in the sifted dry
ingredients just until blended; the dough will be fairly crumbly but
will hold together. Knead in the chocolate until evenly distributed.
Divide the dough in half and transfer to 2 large sheets of plastic wrap.
Shape each piece of dough into a 1 1/2-inch-wide log and wrap in the
plastic. Refrigerate until firm, at least 2 hours.
Preheat
the oven to 350°. Line 4 cookie sheets with parchment paper. Using a
sharp, thin knife, cut the logs into 3/8-inch slices and arrange about 1
inch apart on the cookie sheets. If the slices crumble, re-form the
cookies, pressing the dough together. Bake the cookies on the middle and
lower racks of the oven for about 17 minutes, or until puffed and
cracked on top; shift the pans from top to bottom and front to back
halfway through. Let the cookies cool on the sheets for 5 minutes, then
transfer them to wire racks to cool completely.
The cookies can be stored in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 1 week or frozen for up to 2 months...
(reprinted from the blog 'French Heart by the Sea')
Thursday, December 25, 2014
Dip Ship
(Just a minor note, to drop the point that there are all sorts of morning experiences available on board, including going overboard.)
On a boat, rolling at anchor, the movement gives you a sense that everything is at play; nothing is at rest. So, presumably, one acquires a sense of relaxed readiness for whatever the next moment will bring. You learn to maintain alertness, as the boat is always giving you warning that you are fair game.
A house gives no indication of its preferences regarding gravity, other than creaking and complaining. A boat, however, insists upon being attended. The ocean demands respect, you are continually told. If one disembarks and keeps their balance too high while taking the dinghy's rope off the cleat, it's only logical to presume that there is always the rogue wave ready to separate the two crafts in between, upsetting the balance. They conspire if you are found to be even slightly inattentive.
Therefore, supposedly, you guard yourself; you know the MOB drill, you learn the procedure for man overboard.
So, nevertheless, on Christmas Eve morning, all dressed nicely for a good breakfast on shore, I fell face first out of the dinghy, faster than imaginable, right next to the ladder. It was a split second and down in the drink I dropped. Dinghies pitch around more rapidly than the boat, but practice only makes you think you don't have to play by the usual rules. Well, you do.
Keep your weight low in a boat, bend your knees, keep down in gusty weather, even crawl when in a gale. When working on deck, keep one hand for the boat, another for yourself. Always hand your things from one person to another from boat to dinghy only after you are safely aboard. These are some of the standard precautions.
After my dunking, I'll add some other words to the wise:
Always wear a bathing suit under your dress. It doesn't look out of place when pinned to the lifeline, while drying it out, and no-one is the wiser (even though everyone finds out anyway). Wear flip-flops that hug your foot, so they don't come off under water. If you wear sunglasses around your neck, wear 'em snug, to make sure that they won't easily go over your head. If possible, contrive to find a sympathetic boyfriend who wouldn't dream of hooting at you, but pulls you out and makes a true effort to look sympathetically concerned.
Lastly, write in a blog and write it off. Ship dip happens.
On a boat, rolling at anchor, the movement gives you a sense that everything is at play; nothing is at rest. So, presumably, one acquires a sense of relaxed readiness for whatever the next moment will bring. You learn to maintain alertness, as the boat is always giving you warning that you are fair game.
A house gives no indication of its preferences regarding gravity, other than creaking and complaining. A boat, however, insists upon being attended. The ocean demands respect, you are continually told. If one disembarks and keeps their balance too high while taking the dinghy's rope off the cleat, it's only logical to presume that there is always the rogue wave ready to separate the two crafts in between, upsetting the balance. They conspire if you are found to be even slightly inattentive.
Therefore, supposedly, you guard yourself; you know the MOB drill, you learn the procedure for man overboard.
So, nevertheless, on Christmas Eve morning, all dressed nicely for a good breakfast on shore, I fell face first out of the dinghy, faster than imaginable, right next to the ladder. It was a split second and down in the drink I dropped. Dinghies pitch around more rapidly than the boat, but practice only makes you think you don't have to play by the usual rules. Well, you do.
Keep your weight low in a boat, bend your knees, keep down in gusty weather, even crawl when in a gale. When working on deck, keep one hand for the boat, another for yourself. Always hand your things from one person to another from boat to dinghy only after you are safely aboard. These are some of the standard precautions.
After my dunking, I'll add some other words to the wise:
Always wear a bathing suit under your dress. It doesn't look out of place when pinned to the lifeline, while drying it out, and no-one is the wiser (even though everyone finds out anyway). Wear flip-flops that hug your foot, so they don't come off under water. If you wear sunglasses around your neck, wear 'em snug, to make sure that they won't easily go over your head. If possible, contrive to find a sympathetic boyfriend who wouldn't dream of hooting at you, but pulls you out and makes a true effort to look sympathetically concerned.
Lastly, write in a blog and write it off. Ship dip happens.
Saturday, December 20, 2014
Taking it All In
This wasn't intended as a blog that would be only intermittent, but I haven't figured out how to stop myself in the middle of all this adventure to write regularly. It will come. Today was so full of snorkeling and enjoying the Cooper Island Beach Club with its beautiful accommodations and great beach bar that I have quite forgotten how to maintain any semblance of work ethic. Paddling around all the friendly fish, even some barracudas, sting rays and again, turtles, it has gotten commonplace to feel surrounded by gardens below and above the water. Paradise is accessible.
Yesterday we visited a remarkable garden, the J.R. O'Neal Botanical Garden in Road Town, which had a bench donated by Laurance Rockefeller, so it was one more piece of evidence of Rockefeller's hand in preserving the islands, in addition to the 11,000 acres that comprise the National Park on St. John, which he procured for the Government in 1952. He was not as concerned about the fate of St. Croix's Carambola area in the 4,000 acres in the northwest of the island, a very sensistive historical area for the Crucians. It is slated for massive development. Then there is Denis Bay next door to Caneel Bay, which is so lovely, where he spent millions making a beautiful place to come to enjoy the island; this area, also known locally as Jumbie Bay, was attempted to be developed by our own W. Donald Sussman, Chellie Pingree's hedge fund billionaire husband, who wanted to put in a huge personal pier for private use on Park Lands. I think, so far, he has been refused but money talks and bullshit walks. I digress.
I have spoken to the writer and horticulturist, Eleanor Gibney, over on St. John, whose family still owns the area called Gibney Beach in Hawk's Nest Bay. She has acquired near legend status on the island, being one of the key people making Caneel Bay, (originally bought and developed by Rockefeller), into the lovely area that it is.
She is a conservationist keen on keeping what is lovely about the island as preserved as possible, including the West Indies people who inhabit it, and who regard her with great devotion, from what I can tell, calling her Miz Gibney.
She and I discussed a landscape project I may become involved with and she gave me some suggestions.
I went to Road Town, Tortola, with Bob, to extend our stay, and I continued to study the flora for this project. Now, as of yesterday, seeing the beautiful Cooper Island Beach Club and speaking to their head gardener, Neal, I have a bead on how to organize this project.
The tropical vegetation existing in its natural and mature states is lovely. Learning how a devoted caretaker makes it all work, and conserves everything so as to make the most use of the resources, on the island, is inspiring. Beautiful material, beautiful design, sustainable environmental use. I just wish they could figure out how to pay the people a living wage. That's another story.
We in the North are used to seeing horticultural specimens in pots, the tropical ornamentals, yet here you see things in tree form which never looked like more than tiny vines. It is much more impressive seeing soaring palms of tremendous variety, and to see agave as massive specimens, for instance. It takes a lot of maintenance to look so natural, but it is clearly worth the effort to have ecologically developed areas than to have the developers run riot, which they are doing in some places, such as St. Thomas. Hopefully I can make a positive contribution.
Neither Bob nor I thought we would settle into doing some work, but it is good to earn what the Pardey's call 'freedom chips' which are monies which give you the freedom to keep sailing. We are in this cruising life, full speed ahead.
On a sadder note, my Dad is in full throttle decline and my great black cat has been missing in the cold Maine woods for a week, which does not bode well. Try to splice these two worlds together.
Monday, December 15, 2014
Dispatch from Maine
--It has been reported to me via Mom that Commodore Karen wishes me to not ramble and to talk more about what I am doing in every day living. I will try to focus on how we are making this work as a lifestyle for others to follow and visualize and that is good liven' (the name of a cafe on St. John run by a new friend Olivia) and that can still happen these days.
I do have to sit and write more but am off to catch the 8 am ferry to St. John to meet a woman I spoke to by phone who is famous on the island for her landscaping projects there, particularly some of the beautiful resorts on the North Side. I hope to enlist her support as a colleague.
I also spoke to my elder daughter Lily who I sent pictures to last night and am urging her to come (or, as they say here, come-come) to visit and stay on the boat. This would be right up her alley.
The larger subject of staying on course vs. changing courses is an allegory I hope to explore but it will have to wait. Right now it's time to make the ferry.
I do have to sit and write more but am off to catch the 8 am ferry to St. John to meet a woman I spoke to by phone who is famous on the island for her landscaping projects there, particularly some of the beautiful resorts on the North Side. I hope to enlist her support as a colleague.
I also spoke to my elder daughter Lily who I sent pictures to last night and am urging her to come (or, as they say here, come-come) to visit and stay on the boat. This would be right up her alley.
The larger subject of staying on course vs. changing courses is an allegory I hope to explore but it will have to wait. Right now it's time to make the ferry.
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
Loosen the Mooring Lines
Bob just learned that his job has turned into a lucrative enterprise and could be a permanent situation; no surprise there as he is so capable. I have plans underway as well, doing something that could keep me/us here, doing what we do, creatively. Our plans are not curtailed by this development as we are live-aboards looking for a way to fund our lifestyle, and it hasn't taken long to find some worthy venues.
We learned also that Bob could take his six-pk captain's lisence prep course and as he already has the necessary boating days to qualify for the Coast Guard's required 360 boat days, he could probably pass without trouble if he took the two week course in January. Then he would be able to take people on charters and that sort of thing. I have some, but not enough so it would take longer, but eventually I would also like to become a captain. In the meantime I have a job prospect that would take me back to the flora/fauna work that is my area of expertise. Surf and turf.
It is better to be balancing our options this way than to just hang out here as long-term vacationers; that can be done, but it gets old. We are either going to be cruisers and not stay long in any port or else we will find the right place to be and work with it. So far, it appears that this is a fair haven to reside in, for awhile, and we will see what becomes of this. So many places around here to travel to that living aboard makes possible.
We met a delightful Spanish family and they have two girls and a boy who wanted to learn about our adventures traveling, especially alongside the pods of dolphins. We are going to take a short cruise with them and they have promised sangria and paella. Sounds like a fair deal to us! It looks like we will be home for Christmas, if only in our dreams. Meanwhile, live is meant to be lived and lived fully every day. We hope that our discovery of a means to do this has encouraged other people to take a similar plunge. As it is said: Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all. That's rather extreme, but most people find a way to either play it safe or risk something and exercise a little faith. I prefer giving a little credit to the universe for working with us in the faith department. It just requires, for starters, that we loosen the mooring lines...
We learned also that Bob could take his six-pk captain's lisence prep course and as he already has the necessary boating days to qualify for the Coast Guard's required 360 boat days, he could probably pass without trouble if he took the two week course in January. Then he would be able to take people on charters and that sort of thing. I have some, but not enough so it would take longer, but eventually I would also like to become a captain. In the meantime I have a job prospect that would take me back to the flora/fauna work that is my area of expertise. Surf and turf.
It is better to be balancing our options this way than to just hang out here as long-term vacationers; that can be done, but it gets old. We are either going to be cruisers and not stay long in any port or else we will find the right place to be and work with it. So far, it appears that this is a fair haven to reside in, for awhile, and we will see what becomes of this. So many places around here to travel to that living aboard makes possible.
We met a delightful Spanish family and they have two girls and a boy who wanted to learn about our adventures traveling, especially alongside the pods of dolphins. We are going to take a short cruise with them and they have promised sangria and paella. Sounds like a fair deal to us! It looks like we will be home for Christmas, if only in our dreams. Meanwhile, live is meant to be lived and lived fully every day. We hope that our discovery of a means to do this has encouraged other people to take a similar plunge. As it is said: Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all. That's rather extreme, but most people find a way to either play it safe or risk something and exercise a little faith. I prefer giving a little credit to the universe for working with us in the faith department. It just requires, for starters, that we loosen the mooring lines...
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
Giving Some Leeway
It has been over a week since my last post, so there is some catch-up to do. As for sites and impressions, there have been plenty, the most memorable of which was seeing a sea turtle swim to the surface after being on the bottom eating sea grass; with the light behind the turtle and its flippers fully extended, swimming upward, it closely resembled a bird in flight. I have heard about turtles being graceful in the water and it was truly moving to see; streamlined and seemingly airborne; it struck me as an angelic apparition. It swam eight feet in front of me, unperturbed about my snorkeling presence. The turtle, not me, was the creature with the true claim to be there, trying to eat the food that should be in plentiful supply for it, carrying on an ancient existence. Even hummingbirds are not as graceful as the upward glide of that turtle and its up stretched arms. I have a new, exquisite, totem animal.
I also saw what I believe was a humpback whale coming to the surface, it was gargantuan, and supposedly they do swim in these waters. It is hard to believe myself, so I don't expect to be believed by anyone else that I saw a leviathan, but I did, I think. It was off Shark Island in St. Thomas, where we have been staying, in Red Hook. Bob has picked up some work and it appears that I have a project which will be very exciting, so we will see how this plays out.
Last week, I took a great picture of two dolphins playing around the boat as we went to Tobago. The island is populated by birds and there are some lovely white terns which are commonly called tropic birds, as well as boobies and frigates. Pelicans are everywhere in the harbors. I saw some black shape shoot ten feet out of the water, some have said it could have been a sting ray. Then there are many fish that jump as well as fly, but in those cases, they are likely trying to avoid being eaten.
So many things have been happening that it makes my head swim trying to figure out how to record them all. I am becoming proficient with motoring a dinghy, and I 'drive' Bob to work in the morning by dinghy, going around the hill to the left of the harbor and going to a lovely resort and marina. The water is aqua, the moon has been full. The winds are shifting now and everyone is happy about their coming; I think I heard them referred to as the 'Christmas' winds.
I have been hearing great live music and dancing has been fun but my feet have been complaining, so it is important to invest in sensible thongs (flip-flops). We went to a party at a place called 'Villa Fantasia' at the apex of the hill on the right side of the harbor. The view was 360 degrees and it was possible to see St. Croix, 40 miles to the south. Hot tubbing with some lady captains and swapping stories was a particular delight. Bob bringing me some dark and stormies while in the hot tub was part of the Fantasia experience. I reciprocated by bringing him some ice cream while he listened to two new friends playing guitar and blues harp by the pool as the moon rose over St. John. There really is no way to describe this stuff without preening. Please excuse me for this.
There are some downers to life here: the cinguaterra and the chikunganya for two. I am trying to learn about them and will post soon what I have picked up about these two varieties of island illnesses. The first is a disease you catch eating reef fish that eat a particular organism at a certain latitude and the second is supposedly mosquito transmitted. It, I believe, a fast spreading epidemic resembling malaria, if not being actual malaria. There seems to be a news blackout of this, or just a glaring lack of responsibility by the CDC (center for disease control) for managing it. I have heard that there are 400 cases on St. John, which means it is about ten percent of the population. This is a severe situation and it has already hit the U.S. and spreads quickly. I will write more about it.
I realize that this log has to be more of a duty, as my sister reminded me, because if there is no discipline imposed, I will easily be subsumed with vacation mind think. The pattern of life is very easy when you are just playing every day. We have our boat responsibilities but meeting up with people and making friends is much more relevant than cleaning house/boat. These opposing routines--the live-aboard life vs. vacationers play schedule-- have been vying for my attention, with the result that I am realizing that I will be giving short shrift to some of the wonderful things that have been happening, by not giving them the freshest description. This will not do; we are having too much in each day for me to let this time go by with it not being noted.
I will find a way to reconcile this adventurous life we are experiencing every new day, with making it worthwhile for those hearing and reading about it. It's only fair.
I also saw what I believe was a humpback whale coming to the surface, it was gargantuan, and supposedly they do swim in these waters. It is hard to believe myself, so I don't expect to be believed by anyone else that I saw a leviathan, but I did, I think. It was off Shark Island in St. Thomas, where we have been staying, in Red Hook. Bob has picked up some work and it appears that I have a project which will be very exciting, so we will see how this plays out.
Last week, I took a great picture of two dolphins playing around the boat as we went to Tobago. The island is populated by birds and there are some lovely white terns which are commonly called tropic birds, as well as boobies and frigates. Pelicans are everywhere in the harbors. I saw some black shape shoot ten feet out of the water, some have said it could have been a sting ray. Then there are many fish that jump as well as fly, but in those cases, they are likely trying to avoid being eaten.
So many things have been happening that it makes my head swim trying to figure out how to record them all. I am becoming proficient with motoring a dinghy, and I 'drive' Bob to work in the morning by dinghy, going around the hill to the left of the harbor and going to a lovely resort and marina. The water is aqua, the moon has been full. The winds are shifting now and everyone is happy about their coming; I think I heard them referred to as the 'Christmas' winds.
I have been hearing great live music and dancing has been fun but my feet have been complaining, so it is important to invest in sensible thongs (flip-flops). We went to a party at a place called 'Villa Fantasia' at the apex of the hill on the right side of the harbor. The view was 360 degrees and it was possible to see St. Croix, 40 miles to the south. Hot tubbing with some lady captains and swapping stories was a particular delight. Bob bringing me some dark and stormies while in the hot tub was part of the Fantasia experience. I reciprocated by bringing him some ice cream while he listened to two new friends playing guitar and blues harp by the pool as the moon rose over St. John. There really is no way to describe this stuff without preening. Please excuse me for this.
There are some downers to life here: the cinguaterra and the chikunganya for two. I am trying to learn about them and will post soon what I have picked up about these two varieties of island illnesses. The first is a disease you catch eating reef fish that eat a particular organism at a certain latitude and the second is supposedly mosquito transmitted. It, I believe, a fast spreading epidemic resembling malaria, if not being actual malaria. There seems to be a news blackout of this, or just a glaring lack of responsibility by the CDC (center for disease control) for managing it. I have heard that there are 400 cases on St. John, which means it is about ten percent of the population. This is a severe situation and it has already hit the U.S. and spreads quickly. I will write more about it.
I realize that this log has to be more of a duty, as my sister reminded me, because if there is no discipline imposed, I will easily be subsumed with vacation mind think. The pattern of life is very easy when you are just playing every day. We have our boat responsibilities but meeting up with people and making friends is much more relevant than cleaning house/boat. These opposing routines--the live-aboard life vs. vacationers play schedule-- have been vying for my attention, with the result that I am realizing that I will be giving short shrift to some of the wonderful things that have been happening, by not giving them the freshest description. This will not do; we are having too much in each day for me to let this time go by with it not being noted.
I will find a way to reconcile this adventurous life we are experiencing every new day, with making it worthwhile for those hearing and reading about it. It's only fair.
Monday, December 1, 2014
sailing the simpler life
This post was originally pirated by an outfit proposing to sell Facebook 'likes', pretending to be posted by me at 7:41 this morning, which is when I turned on my phone to internet. Security is at risk here until I figure out how to get the demons off my page, but hope you will subscribe once I figure out how to do that link to set it up.sigh.
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