The Necessity of Zucchini Bread

Who wakes up in the morning and immediately thinks, “You know, what I could really go for right now is a nice thick slice of ZUCCHINI BREAD” ?

No one, that’s who. But sometimes—and especially at the end of summer—you find yourself mysteriously in the possession of an enormous zucchini, one that has been allowed to grow rampant on the vine until it’s roughly the size of your leg. No self-respecting storebought zucchini would ever approach these proportions, but here we are. 

(photo from jennyhansenauthor.wordpress.com)

So what do you do when life gives you, instead of lemons, a squash of mammoth size? 

Make zucchini bread, obvs. 

Why bread, you ask?

Well, what are your other options? A zucchini of this size can’t be minced into neat little chunks for your garden salad. You can mix it into soups or sauces, I guess, but who wants THAT MUCH zucchini in their soup? I mean, don’t get me wrong, zucchini’s great. It’s just kind of… bland.

Which makes it a pretty good (if surprising) base for quick breads. The appeal of quick breads is their moist density, not unlike pound cake, which makes them a good snack. Zucchini isn’t as inherently sweet as other quick bread bases like pumpkin or banana, but that doesn’t mean it can’t make just as tasty a bread.

When I was a kid, we had a garden and zucchini plants for a couple years. I remember when my mom made zucchini bread and, I’ll be honest, at the age of 10 or so I wasn’t the biggest fan. Fast forward 13 years: now faced with zucchini of my own, I wanted to utilize it in a delicious way. This zucchini would not go to waste!

I scoured the internet (read: searched for five minutes) for a highly-rated recipe so that my first attempt would be a guaranteed success. I found this one and used it with a few of the adjustments suggested by a commenter (always read the recipe comments!!). Here’s the actual list of ingredients I used:

• 3 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 3 teaspoons ground cinnamon
• 1/4 tsp nutmeg
• 1/4 tsp (heaping) allspice
• 3 eggs
• 1 cup vegetable oil
• 1 cup white sugar
• 1 cup packed brown sugar
• 3 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 3-4 cups grated zucchini (NOT drained!)

Other than that, I followed the directions exactly as they appeared on the site.

My (donated) zucchini was a pretty hefty end chunk, maybe close to 2 pounds? I’m bad at estimating, but you can get an idea of the size:

(sorry for the graininess, this one was with my camera phone)

The first think I did was cut it into smaller chunks and slice the skin off. Bigger zucchinis don’t have the thin delicate skin of their smaller counterparts, so you don’t want that tough stuff in your bread. 

I also carved out the soft, pulpy middle section. It wouldn’t stand up well to grating, is too dry, and also has these big seeds (also not appealing in bread). This left me with just the “meat” of the zucchini.

Next step: grate. 

As you can see, I have one of those “collapsible” graters that is annoying 99% of the time when I’m trying to grate cheddar and it keeps folding up, but was surprisingly helpful this time when I wanted to grate into a bowl. Zucchinis have a SURPRISING amount of juice in them. Like, way more than you’d think. You want that juice in your bread so that it’s nice and moist, so grate into a bowl so you don’t lose the juice all over your cutting board/counter/whatever. 

I used the smallest grater holes so that there wouldn’t be a ton of big gross zucchini strands in my bread. No one wants to KNOW they’re eating zucchini. It’s all about maintaining the illusion.

The original recipe says 2 cups, but several commenters mentioned that more was okay, so I went whole hog and grated up everything I had. It turned out to be somewhere between three and four cups, I think.

Yum. (it’s okay if you’re still repulsed. I wasn’t exactly enthused, either.)

I followed the rest of the recipe according to plan, except I added more spices because NUTMEG AND ALLSPICE, COME ON. I love me some spices. I would’ve added cloves, too, but didn’t have any in my cupboard. :(

I threw the resulting dough/batter in a couple of loaf pans and baked at 325 for an hour. The resulting loaves look surprisingly innocuous; you’d hardly know they contain a bunch of green squash flesh. 

Of course, as with any food, the true test is taste. Is it good?

The verdict:

YES.

A THOUSAND TIMES YES.

This is not zucchini bread. This is zucchini transcendence.

Please excuse me while I go finish off the entire loaf.

Victory Is Mine

After six months of sewing, procrastinating, applying to grad school, going to a convention, getting sidetracked on numerous other projects, and co-authoring a novel-length fanfic (my nerdiness knows no bounds), I HAVE FINALLY FINISHED THE COAT.

Everything was pretty much hunky-dory after I finished re-fitting the midriff and setting in the sleeves; I top-stitched the front edge, which keeps the edge from rolling and makes the lapel look extra sharp:

One of the last steps was to do the bottom and sleeve hems. I'd already pressed up and tacked the wool, so in theory all I had to do was sew the lining in place. Unfortunately, something I should have taken into consideration was the bulkiness of the Thinsulate. Because the hem on this kind of coat drops down and has a little extra folded up underneath (so it doesn't pull weirdly when you wear it), the Thinsulate would have to fold back in on itself at the very bottom. This was not a good look, as I found out when I turned the coat:

Uh oh...

There's your problem.

The Thinsulate is lofty and kinda thick, so creasing compactly is not something it does well. It caused the hem to buckle and poof outwards instead of hanging straight down.

My solution: trim the Thinsulate (not the purple lining) two and a half inches above the raw edge so that the only part that has to fold is the brocade. The Thinsulate doesn't unravel, so it's fine to just hang down inside the lining. That length made it hit right above the pressed-up edge of the wool, which was perfect.

Some careful trimming and hem-stitching later, my coat was nearly done! The only thing left after the hems was to attach the buttons. I bought these cool little guys waaay back at the beginning of my project:

I'd toyed with the idea of putting these on my black wool melton coat, but they didn't have them in the right size. This time, I thought they'd compliment the black and white well, although I had misgivings since they were kind of busy. But my dad convinced me that they were cool and would add an interesting feature. There are three large buttons up the center (not double-breasted!)

You can see here that I did machine-stitched buttonholes instead of the really difficult buttonholes that I put on my melton coat. These were fast but nerve-wracking because if you mis-cut them, your coat is RUINED FOREVER. 

(probably not, but it seems that way when you're about to take the first snip.)

I made sure to make them large enough, because the aforementioned melton buttonholes were definitely on the skimpy side. It always hurts my fingers to button that coat, but these fit the bill (and the buttons). The little black button you can see on the right, above, is an anchor for the button to keep it from pulling through the fabric. Definitely worthwhile whenever you sew on shank buttons, and particularly for loosely-woven fabric like my boucle.

So, are you ready for the big reveal, dear reader? I know I am!

What? I always sway my hips while taking off my coat.

Front view! 

Back view! It makes my shoulders look extra-wide because I didn't take in the sleeve seams after I fitted it. Oh well.

With scarf! Probably how I will be wearing it 90% of the time this winter.

So, it's done! I know, I can hardly believe it myself. But I now own THREE nice peacoats to wear to school, so I need never complain of having nothing to wear.

BONUS: After finishing the coat, I decided to make a new purse to replaced the one I sewed a year or two ago, which was wearing out at the seams and the magnetic clasp. I used the same pattern but picked out a sturdy peacock feather print canvas for the exterior, which should give me some extra life.

 

Peacocks have kind of been my thing ever since I  played Griffes's "The White Peacock" and apparently claimed it as my  piano piece soulmate.

I really love this bag because it's very comfortable to wear and has lots of space without seeming ENORMOUS. The two sides of the bag are actually large zippered pouches, and the space between them has a third compartment that closes at the top with a magnetic clasp. I really like this middle compartment for keeping my keys, cell phone, and other things that need to be within easy reach.

Such as lip gloss. You never know when you're going to have to whip that stuff out.

Also, SUPER SWEET POCKETS. Look at those awesome little guys. There's a wide flat one, and a pleated narrow one that is perfect for my gadgets. Never again will my cell phone float freely about the abyss that is the bottom of my purse!

The inside of the zippered pockets has lining like the middle. I was really fortunate to find a lining fabric by the same designer as the canvas, so it has a very similar color scheme (muted grays and warm taupes) and compliments it really nicely.

Those heavy-duty metal zippers were a change from the polyester zippers I had on my old bag. I wanted something a little sturdier; the problem I found with these, once I had installed them, was that they were incredibly sticky, to the point that I was worried about bending the teeth out of shape if I tried to force it. However, I did a little googling and found that running a candle over the teeth a few times will help lubricate them, and that seemed to do the trick. Now it zips pretty easily.

So, to recap my sewing adventures this year (in approximate order finished):

• Pajama pants for my brother
• Milk stand cushion for my brother
• Apron
• Cotton goodie bags for the Christmas cookie exchange
• Pajama pants for my sister (two pairs!)
• Stargate jacket
• Matching pants
• Boucle peacoat
• Boucle hat (which I will probably never wear, but at least it matches my coat)
• Peacock purse

What a lineup! Looking back, I sort of wish I'd made a formal dress or two to wear to recitals and things; I have a lot of patterns I've accumulated over the years but never bought fabric for. I guess that will be next on my sewing wish list!

It's a good feeling to put a bookmark in my sewing progress and enjoy what I've created. I've got one more month before I move to Idaho in August, and I'm not going to spend it sequestered in the sewing room (though I may be giving tips to my sister, who is embarking on sewing her own long peacoat!). But I'm glad I've been keeping track of my progress. Narrating the steps as I sew makes me think more about what I'm doing, and it makes me focus on doing the best job I can instead of working too fast and getting sloppy. Overall, I'm very proud of the work I've done this year, and I can't wait to see what's waiting just around the corner for me!

Plaid coats, grey coats, Browncoats...

This is it! Having run out of other things to do, I am finally resolving to get back to sewing THE COAT (dun dun dunn).

What's that, you say? What about that other awesome coat I recently made? And the aforementioned pictures with TV stars?

Well, okay. If you insist. Let's just get this out of the way.

Note the midriff tailoring that fits a lot more closely than it did previously. I'm actually quite proud of that.

The stubble! The hair! The eyes! What a MAN.

Actually these guys were pretty cool too I guess. (I wish I had gotten a chance to interact more with David Hewlett, far left, because he was a seriously awesome guy and very friendly.)

In short, this was possibly the best $100 I have ever extravagantly spent on a costume, because it made me feel like the coolest nerd at the convention. I had several people ask where I bought the coat, and one person even asked if I could make him one! (I declined.) I also won a Stargate mug in the costume contest, so you know, it wasn't a total wash.

Also, I don't know if you've noticed, but I have lost a lot of weight recently. We're talking right around the order of 20 pounds since early December, which is when I started seriously working out. My workout ethic (heh) has waxed and waned periodically since then, but I'm still trying to stick with it as much as possible, with the end goal of getting down to 140 lbs or so.

I have actually dropped two jeans sizes and I'm now at a comfortable 10 (whaaatt?). It's really fantastic to be able to re-access whole portions of my wardrobe again, but there's a cloud to every silver lining. In this case, the cloud is that I cut out and sewed my coat in a size that is now much too large for me.

Fortunately, the hiatus has worked a bit in my favor, because it's not too late to make fitting adjustments!

For my current sewing-TV-show, I've started watching Firefly, a series that I've started multiple times but never gotten around to finishing. Now I have an opportunity to see it to the end. Here's an inspirational quote for today from the pilot episode:

Mal: "Well, you were right about this being a bad idea."
Zoe: "Thanks for sayin', sir."


And back to the fitting!


I started with the lining (which at this point only had one sleeve set in). The easiest way to bring in the ease was to take the seam in an inch on either side seam, and contour the upper center back in about a half inch between the bottom of the yoke and the hips. That made it fit more closely while still allowing plenty of room for ease of movement.


Of course, the lining fitting went more or less without a hitch. The outer shell of the coat was another story.


Remember that time when I attached the belt carriers and mentioned, off-handedly, that I'd probably need to take them back off again for fitting? I should have listened to that little voice of reason. I did have to take them off. I also had to rip out some of the topstitching along the center back seam to take in that half-inch, and the wool fabric has the unfortunate tendency to "ride up" in the seam, so you have to go back again and tear it out (a second time) so you can make it lie flat. At this rate, I'll be surprised if this coat isn't full of holes before I finish it.


Annnnnd that's about all I got this afternoon. Slow going.*sigh*

We now return you to your regularly scheduled sewing

We are now on the cusp of spring: buds are blooming, the lawn is growing, the precipitation is more wet than cold, the chickens have once more begun to lay eggs, and my sewing room is still full of unassembled wool coat pieces. However! This is not to say that I've done nothing since my last post. Au contraire, mon ami!

Since I left you last, I have accomplished the following:

• Applied to University of Idaho's graduate program
• Been accepted to University of Idaho's graduate program
• Probably gotten a full teaching assistantship to University of Idaho's graduate program (but still waiting on the official letter-in-the-mail news)
• Accompanied a bassoon recital

This poster only begins to capture just how classy the whole experience was.

• Attended an opera

All of my friends are extremely photogenic.

• Achieved my first (and hopefully last) hangover

Worth it?

• Registered for the last official Stargate convention, ever! in Vancouver, B.C. for the end of April, including autographs with a couple of the stars and a photo op with my favorite; this will be the first con I've ever attended!

awwww yeeaaaahhhh

• Made a full costume to wear to said conference, because I got excited and over-ambitious, but it worked out!

Custom jacket? Piece of cake.
Inner turmoil over whether or not I'm nerdy enough to actually wear this to the con?
Not so easy.

• Made a cap with remnants from my coat fabric because I bought too much and because I didn't want to face THE COAT after the triumphant success of my costume
• Made two pairs of pajama pants for my sister (sshh!)  because nothing is more soothing than an easy pattern and cotton fabric
• Watched the entirety of The Office and Castle on DVD (while sewing, natch)

*siiiggghhh*

• Drove to Idaho to visit my BFF over St. Patrick's Day, realized I could probably not live in the Palouse for the rest of my life, but it's okay, grad school is only two years anyway

Beautiful, in a barren, alien kind of way

• Re-started my exercise regimen on our new treadmill (no more muddy shoes!)
• Learned how to change the brake pads and discs on my car

Basically, the mad dash to learn my audition rep shifted me firmly into stir-crazy, stay-busy, quit-lounging-around-all-the-time mode. I think I actually function best in this mode (I can only veg out for so long before I become deeply dissatisfied with myself). But now I'm back to the coat, with nothing else to potentially distract me (Nathan Fillion aside), so I'm off! I promise that the next post will contain some bona fide progress. Coat progress, that is.

Upheaval!

As those who have been following my frantic Facebook updates can attest, the month of February has been a CRAZY time. To make a long story short, I was convinced to do a very last-minute audition for the Master of Music in Collaborative Piano program at the University of Idaho. I've spent all month putting together my audition music, and this afternoon I presented it to the Idaho piano faculty. The whole trip was a little nerve-wracking, to say the least, but I'm excited. This program is exactly what I'm looking for, and I am falling more in love with the campus every minute.

Like this, but with fewer leaves and more snow.

There is a comforting familiarity in the Idaho music building. Even though I've only been there once before, when I auditioned for their undergrad program five years ago, there's a worn-in feeling, like a favorite pair of shoes. The energy of the music students feels the same as Western, where I got my bachelor's degrees. I went in yesterday evening to meet with a professor and found a familiar chaos: a high school choir concert in the midst of getting out; college students shouldering their way through; a group of pianists (I presume) lounging in the lobby and watching piano videos. They laughed with glee over a showy Chopin etude. "This one is my favorite!" They shot curious glances at me as I rounded the staircase and returned my smile.

I could be in that group, I thought. I suddenly ached for the easy solidarity of pianists, people joined in their shared love for the instrument with all its necessary struggle and success. Dr. Zavislak, the professor who has been my main contact at Idaho, assured me that the pianists here were really friendly. "Just knock on one of the piano practice doors when you need to go warm up," she said, "they'll let you in. They're really nice."

Even with as much work as it's been to get to this point, and with all the trepidation I feel about plunging right into grad school--without the extra fall to get my act together-- I can see myself falling into place here. When I originally decided to go to Western, I convinced myself of all the reasons why Idaho wasn't right: too much money, too far away from home, not enough mountains. The desolate Palouse stretches out for miles around the campus, its scraggly midwinter hills offering little variation. It was by no means the evergreen paradise that Bellingham offered. But now, I find myself comparing all the ways that Idaho will be a welcome change from my undergraduate school:

1. The practice rooms have windows! You'd be amazed what a difference a little daylight makes.
2. The offices in the main music building (or Dr. Zavislak's office, anyway) are HUGE. We're talking two-Steinways-and-a-harpsichord, couch, file cabinets, bookshelves, potted plants, vaulted ceiling, three windows huge. She was like "Sorry it's such a mess!" but all I could think about was how if you took out the pianos you could fit half an orchestra in there.
3. There is regular snow. I like snow. (the downside is that there are probably never snow days, just snowy days. this will require a wardrobe adjustment)
4. There were a lot of cute boys around campus. *cough*
5. Pretty much all the music students around the building were nice/smiled at me/said hello. 
6. I like the piano faculty! They all seem really friendly and approachable.

So, that's encouraging. Of course, I noticed some other things too. Not necessarily bad, just... different:

1. At least a third of the student body owns pickup trucks. More if you count SUVs. CRAZY. I'm putting it down to the miles of farmland surrounding U of I. Also, I guess, the snow.
2. Campus is enormous. Probably still smaller than UW, but most definitely larger than WWU. You can't just stroll to the other end of campus, it's like a good 15 minute walk.
3. You can't drive through campus (easily). Of course, you couldn't drive through WWU either... but at least they didn't have streets going halfway through and then ending because, whoops! Campus walkway.
4. Parking lots got really full during the day. Not sure how that would work out if I choose to commute. There might be a bus system, but I only saw a shuttle.
5. The practice room walls were really thin. This is a definite downside. We were kinda spoiled in the WWU piano practice rooms though.
6. The practice building is over 100 years old (constructed in 1902!!). It has tile floors, which are not conducive to lying down and napping. Neither is a Master of Music program, though, so I guess this is for the best.
7. People at U of I dress exactly like people at WWU (except with fewer North Face jackets), right down to skirts, leggings, and shorts in 35 degree weather with snow on the ground. Ladies, I admire your determination, but SERIOUSLY? I thought my face was going to fall off from the cold. 
8. There weren't a ton of posters stuck up around the buildings. Maybe there just aren't a lot of recitals at this time of the semester?
9. The housing office (the only non-music university entity I interacted with besides the parking office) was SUPER friendly and nice. Score, Idaho!

The audition itself was over with much more quickly than I thought it would be. I played through about two thirds of my Haydn sonata first movement, less than a page of the second, part of my Mozart sonata, part of my Schumann art song (plus I had to explain the plot, which makes me very glad I looked up the translation), all of my Barber art song, and none of the Chausson art song (probably for the best). Plus some sight reading that wasn't honestly my most perfect effort, but Dr. Yang, the collaborative piano professor, seemed to find passable. We had a little Q&A afterward, during which I failed to come up with any good questions, and they asked me about my motivations. I think I came off well. Dr. Yang cautioned me that the master's program would be a lot of work and I would have stacks and stacks of music to work through, that I'd definitely be sitting in on the vocal masterclass every week and sightreading--but, she said, "I didn't think your sight reading was that bad." Which I took to mean that she found me more or less up to the task. She had me sight read through a De Falla cancion, which I hadn't played before, and a Ned Rorem piece, which I was pretty sure after the fact that I had. 

Then Dr. Zavislak bid me adieu. I'll hear back about their decision at a later date. I am cautiously optimistic. My fingers are crossed, when they aren't untangling the Hindemith bassoon sonata for a recital next week.

It just never ends.

Come Ice or Rain or Sleet or Snow...

Note: This post was written on January 19, 2012. We are still without power and I still haven't made any more progress on my coat, but we do have internet, so I haven't perished of boredom yet.

What do you do when there’s 8” of snow on the ground, ¼” of ice on top of that, no power for at least two days because of the ice, and the road is impassable because there are too many fallen trees (even if you could get past the icy road)?

If you’re me, you wrack your brain for things that need to be done and haven’t because you have been too busy playing Skyrim for the last few weeks:

1. Piano practice (but I don’t have a rehearsal until February, so it isn’t urgent)
2. Laundry (but the generator can’t power the washer and the hot water heater)
3. Reading the stack of books I have accumulated in the last few months (but I can’t really focus because trees keep coming down outside and I always have to run to the window and make sure they haven’t hit anything important)
4. Sew my coat (but I couldn’t press any seams open because our iron sucks up a lot of power, apparently)
5. Blog about my coat (but our internet isn’t working, either)

BUT, I do have the option of writing up an offline post and putting it up when our internet eventually comes back. So here we are.

I always like to have music or a movie or TV show running while I’m working (because distracted sewing is the best sewing). Last year, it was Stargate Atlantis (and then Monty Python’s Flying Circus, I think). This year, due to some wonderful Christmas presents I received, it’s The Office (and if I finish that, which I probably will, then Castle). This week’s inspirational quote comes from Dwight Schrute of The Office:

“The best advice you ever gave me was, “Don’t be an idiot.” … Whenever I’m about to do something, I think, ‘Would an idiot do that?’ And if they would, then I do not do that thing.”

I’m pretty sure this is the kind of advice we can all follow.

When I last updated, I believe I left off with the Thinsulate I had ordered to line my coat with. It came super quickly, and I was able to get it cut out without much hassle, although working with the puffiness of the lining posed a slight challenge.

Puff Daddy? Puff Megan? Maybe just Puff.

This is actually a central Thinsulate layer quilted with a layer of thin polyester on either side. When I originally started looking around for lining, I could have gotten just plain Thinsulate, no quilting. But then I realized that it didn’t come in black, and I would either have to get the quilted kind, or buy even more black lining fabric to put between the Thinsulate and the see-through boucle. Since this was already getting to be an expensive hassle, I opted for the not-too-pricey quilted Thinsulate.

The good thing about the quilting is that it will give the insulation a lot of stability, which will hopefully make this a coat that I will be able to wear for a long time. The bad thing is that you can kind of see the quilting, or at least the puffiness of the quilted squares, through the lining pieces they’re sewn into.

The ripples are the puffs.

I’m not too concerned—that’s unavoidable. I’m mostly hoping that it doesn’t show through the boucle, but I think the texture of the fabric, and the fact that it won’t be tautly attached to the insulation the way the brocade is, will make it okay.

The wool boucle fluffed up quite a bit after I washed it, although that didn’t make it any thicker—just a little loftier, I guess. I had a moment before I started cutting out the boucle pieces where I considered actually using the wrong side of the fabric for the outside of the coat. The first fabric I had my sights set on was a beautiful crosshatch, vaguely plaid-ish design. The fabric I ended up with is a definite plaid, but the wrong side of the fabric has a softer look to the design:

Wrong side and right side, for comparison. 

I finally decided to just go ahead and use the right side, because I didn’t want it to look like I was wearing a flannel bathrobe for a coat.

I didn’t make any fitting adjustments to my pattern before cutting, which my old 4-H sewing instructors would probably berate me for. I was too anxious to get started. If anything, I will have to take in some seams since the pattern runs a little large, but I tend to need that room around the bust. My plan is to wait until I have the lining and shell constructed, and then check the fit before I sew them together. I suspect I may need a little extra room for the thicker lining than I would have without it.

I don’t have pictures yet, but so far I’ve finished putting together the outer shell and undercollar, and most of the lining and facing. I still need to put in the lining sleeves, which I’m finding is a huge pain because of the insulation thickness. Most sleeve heads require some degree of gathering the top of the curve so that it hangs nicely, without pulling (if you put it in without the gathers, the fabric would want to stick straight out, which would put a lot more strain on the seam). Gathering that thick insulation, however, is problematic. Even with very long stitches, it’s difficult to pull up the ease (essentially, bunch the fabric along the thread like a curtain on a rod) without breaking the thread.

After doing my ease stitches in one uninterrupted line and having them break when I tried to gather the ease, I then tried doing them in halves: sewing from each bottom edge of the gathered area to the top of the curve, so I only had half as much to gather. That seemed to do the trick.

I still hate putting in sleeves.

I also put together the tie belt and attached the belt carriers/loops to the coat, although if I have to take in the seams I’m just going to be tearing them off again.

Next on the agenda: THE FITTING, or, probably, How I Discovered that I Should Have Made a Muslin.